Chapter Seven: Qin Ning

Shen Qingyun walked through the desolate mountain, and behind him trailed a massive serpent, thirty feet long, crushing trees in its wake. Blood gushed from a wound on the serpent’s body, flowing ceaselessly. The blood that stained Shen Qingyun’s clothes vanished quickly, absorbed by the shifting fabric he wore.

“To think that even in the outskirts, there are third-rank demon beasts lurking. It seems Zhao Rencai was telling the truth,” Shen Qingyun muttered, his expression darkening. Once, such creatures had been as insignificant as weeds by the roadside to his former self, but to him now, they were priceless treasures.

“I’ll harvest the Withered Grass first, then head to Great Roc Mountain,” he decided silently.

After walking a while, a hint of puzzlement flickered in Shen Qingyun’s eyes as he stared ahead—there was nothing visible before him.

“How could there be a formation boundary here?”

Right by the formation, several tufts of Withered Grass grew—three blooms and two leaves on a single stalk, their bodies entirely black, making them easy to identify.

He strode over and picked the Withered Grass. Suddenly, a sense of danger seized him. Shen Qingyun dodged to the side just in time as a cold longsword appeared from thin air, sweeping past his chest.

His face remained impassive as spiritual energy swirled around his palm. He seized the sword and yanked it forcefully, pulling a coldly beautiful woman in ornate robes from the void.

She let out a startled cry before Shen Qingyun flung her heavily to the ground. She sprang up, eyes brimming with murderous intent. “Who are you? Are you here to kill me too?”

Shen Qingyun gazed at her with disdain. “If I wanted to kill you, do you think you’d still have a chance to resist?”

She noticed the scorn in his eyes and sensed his cultivation level. A mocking sneer appeared on her lips. “You? At first level of Qi Refining? If I were at my peak, killing you would be as easy as slaughtering a pig!”

Shen Qingyun moved with an uncanny step, and in the next instant, he was before her, his hand gripping her throat so swiftly she had no time to react.

“But you must realize—you’re not at your peak right now. Killing you would be even easier than killing a pig,” he said coldly.

The woman was shocked by his speed. Instinctively, she tried to struggle, but Shen Qingyun’s grip was like an iron vise—she could not break free with strength alone. So, she called upon her spiritual energy...

The moment she did, she spat out a mouthful of blood.

Fortunately, Shen Qingyun reacted quickly, dodging aside before the blood hit him—he didn’t fancy getting splattered, especially since his face lacked a self-cleaning function.

After coughing up blood, the woman’s face grew even paler. Gripping her sword, she watched Shen Qingyun warily, but her body could no longer support her. She collapsed backward.

Shen Qingyun raised an eyebrow and was about to leave, but sensing she still had a thread of life left, he paused. He frowned, muttering, “Her life or death has nothing to do with me. Why should I care?”

Yet, another thought crossed his mind—she bore him no grudge, and it felt wrong to let her die without lifting a hand.

Suddenly, his gaze fell upon her slender fingers, where a silver-white storage ring gleamed. Remembering his lack of cultivation resources, he knelt beside her and slipped the ring from her finger.

“I’ll take this ring as payment for saving your life,” he declared.

Then, carefully, he checked her pulse, thoughts racing as he examined her condition.

“Spiritual energy in reverse flow, meridians damaged. If not for her profound foundation, she’d be dead already,” he mused. “To save her, I must first realign her chaotic meridians. Otherwise, only a divine elixir could help her.”

A smile broke over his face. “Luckily for you, you’ve met me. Even without a divine elixir, I can save you.”

As a former emperor, handling tricky injuries was second nature. The Spirit Dragon Heavenly Gate Finger, a technique of his own creation, would be perfect here.

Just as he was about to begin, he hesitated. The reason was not technical, but awkward—the starting point for the technique lay between the woman’s ample breasts. To begin, he would have to remove her clothing, which made him pause.

“Why should I care about such things?” he thought. After all, it wasn’t his own clothes.

With little ceremony, Shen Qingyun tore the fabric open, revealing a field of snowy white. She was even more voluptuous than she appeared.

He only allowed his gaze to waver for a moment before he focused his mind, eyes steady. With two fingers, he pressed down, channeling spiritual energy into her body.

His hands moved quickly and precisely across her body as he worked to untangle the knots in her meridians. Occasionally, the woman let out pained gasps—sounds that, in truth, were rather inviting.

Half an hour later, Shen Qingyun finally withdrew his hands. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he rummaged through the storage ring, found her clothes, and covered her with them.

He originally intended to leave, but recalling that she was now as defenseless as a child, and that demon beasts prowled the Withered Mountain, he realized that if she was eaten, all his effort would be wasted.

“Consider yourself lucky to have met a kind-hearted soul like me,” he muttered.

Shen Qingyun sat cross-legged beneath a nearby tree, took out a spirit stone from her ring, and began to cultivate.

Qin Ning felt a gentle warmth suffusing her body. Though unconscious, her mind was dimly aware of hands moving up and down her form.

By the time she awoke, the sky was strewn with stars.

“You’re awake?” came Shen Qingyun's indifferent voice from the side.

Startled, Qin Ning suddenly remembered the sensation of hands roaming her body while she was unconscious. Her first thought was that she had been violated.

“Lecher!” she cried, grabbing her sword and lunging at Shen Qingyun.

He tossed aside his roasted meat, dodging the strike with ease and a faint smile. “Not bad—your swordplay is faster.”

His peculiar footwork allowed him to evade her attacks effortlessly. Qin Ning was both embarrassed and angry, shouting, “Lecher, I’ll kill you!”

Shen Qingyun said coolly, “Your clothes are falling off.”

Qin Ning looked down to find it was true. With a cry, she dropped her sword, grabbed her fallen clothes, and crouched, covering herself.

“Why are you calling me a lecher?” Shen Qingyun asked. Anyone would be annoyed to be falsely accused like this, but since he had already seen everything, he let it go.

Blushing furiously, Qin Ning replied, “Lecher! You did such things to me—what else could you be?”

Shen Qingyun sighed helplessly. “Please, just because your chest isn’t small doesn’t mean you have no brains. If I had really done anything, do you think you’d be alive and well enough to swing your sword at me?”

“I saved your life!”

“You saved me?” Qin Ning looked up at him in surprise.

Shen Qingyun nodded. “If you don’t believe me, check—aren’t your meridians already restored?”