Chapter: Pinning Her Down at First Sight?
This chapter offered the perfect opportunity to bring out the emotional playfulness and physical tension between Su Min and Xie Yingying. While the original version already implied a certain intensity—especially from Xie Yingying's side—it leaned toward abrupt, almost comedic pacing, with quick shifts in tone and limited interiority. I wanted to preserve the core energy of the original, but enrich it with more emotional layering and physical detail.
In the original:
But just when Su Min landed in front of her house in Xianmen, Xie Yingying rushed in from inside. Then the latter seemed to be stimulated by something, and almost instantly rushed in front of her and threw her to the ground.
Then he threw himself into his arms, breathing something greedily.
This scene made Su Min dumbfounded. What had Xie Yingying done wrong?
"Hey, wake up."
Su Min calmly pulled Xie Yingying away from her arms, and snapped her fingers, causing a stream of clear water to fall from the sky, cooling Xie Yingying to the bone and finally bringing her back to her senses.
After all, he is a cultivator in the fusion stage, and he has strong control over his desires.
After seeing Su Min, her face turned slightly red.
"What's wrong with you? Why do you have a crazy attraction to me? Slurp, so that's why your solar energy has become even stronger."
She straightened her clothes a little, and it took less than a second to dry them again. Only then did Xie Yingying reluctantly move her thighs to move her body away from Su Min.
Xie Yingying's sudden lunge and Su Min's reaction are described in a way that feels vaguely humorous, but the implications (especially the "sticky" comment) are left vague and underexplored.
I chose to rewrite this sequence by heightening both the sensual charge and the characters' inner responses.
"Hey, hey, snap out of it."
Calmly prying Xie Yingying off, Su Min snapped her fingers, summoning a clear stream of water that drenched her face, finally bringing her back to her senses. After all, as a Unity-stage cultivator, Xie Yingying had strong control over her desires. Not like when they were in the Golden Core Avenue, where Xie Yingying needed decades to control her urges. Su Min could only assume her return had shaken something loose.
"What's wrong with you? Why do I feel this insane attraction to you? Sniff... Ah, I see. Your Taiyang energy has grown stronger."
Blushing faintly, Xie Yingying adjusted her robes, drying them in less than a second. Her tone came out slightly strained, even as she tried to play it off. Xie Yingying reluctantly shifted her legs, moving her body away from Su Min's.
In the revision, I shifted the mood to something more flirtatious and emotionally charged, rather than comedic. Su Min isn't just confused—she's amused, intrigued, and increasingly aware of how strongly she affects Xie Yingying.
Instead of original:
"I met a Sun Body in the Mahayana stage, and he gave me all of his remaining essence."
At this time, no matter how stupid Su Min was, she knew what was happening, so there was no obvious change in her expression.
The solar energy in her body had a terrifying attraction to Xie Yingying, who had a yin body. Of course, the other party was not a beast that could not control itself. It was just that after seeing her, she probably obeyed the desires of her body.
When Xie Yingying activated the solar energy in her body in the Yin-Yang Land, she had shown this behavior.
I change it into:
"I encountered a Mahayana-stage Solar Sovereign Body practitioner. He gave me all his remaining essence."
"...I see."
Xie Yingying shifted slightly, her gaze dropping to the floor, then off to the side, anywhere but at Su Min. Her usual composure faltered, and the tips of her ears—always the first to betray her—flushed a telltale pink.
Even if Su Min were the dullest person alive, she'd understand the situation by now, so her expression remained unchanged. The Taiyang energy within her quietly stirring, exuding heat like sunlight behind silk. It pulled at Xie Yingying's Lunar Sovereign Body with terrifying precision, awakening a resonance that defied logic, restraint, and will.
But Xie Yingying wasn't some beast swayed by lust alone. Her cultivation path demanded discipline. Even now, her breathing remained steady, her qi restrained beneath layers of spiritual control. For years, she had kept herself untouched, untempted, unmoved. Even when surrounded by those who desired her, she remained untouchable, aloof, like moonlight on snow.
But all of that discipline seemed to falter whenever Su Min was near.
It wasn't the Taiyang resonance alone. No, the attraction hadn't begun with a surge of spiritual energy. It had begun with a voice—calm, clever, stubbornly alive even when the world burned around her. With eyes that never judged her, even when the entire cultivation world saw her only as a prize.
Back in the Yin-Yang Secret Realm, when Su Min's Solar Sovereign Physique first awakened, the reaction had been instantaneous. Resonance had struck like lightning—beautiful, overwhelming, terrifying. At the time, Xie Yingying told herself it was just the inheritance. Just the compatibility of their physiques. A rare convergence of yin and yang, nothing more. But she had known, even then, that it wasn't that simple. Her body had reached for Su Min before her mind could speak. And so this time.
This is not just about attraction. It's about denial, restraint, and longing. About the internal conflict between body and mind, especially when their Yin-Yang resonance stirs things beyond conscious will.
"Yeah, a little sticky."
But when Su Min patted her clothes, she felt a strange sticky feeling.
But just as this feeling came out, she felt a chill on her hands. Then there was nothing left. She looked up and saw Xie Yingying with her back to her.
The "sticky sensation" is no longer vague or throwaway, but becomes a significant sensory cue:
"Hmm, a little sticky..."
Su Min's brows drew together ever so slightly as her fingers brushed against the front of her robe. There, just below the fold of her waist sash, the fabric clung faintly to her skin, still warm with lingering heat. A tacky trace remained—ephemeral, yet unmistakable. Her touch lingered only a moment before a sudden cold breeze curled around her hand, cooling the spot like nature itself had swept in to erase the evidence.
She lifted her gaze.
Xie Yingying stood a short distance away, her back turned rigidly straight, as if carved from jade. Her arms were stiff at her sides, fists clenched just a little too tightly, a little too composed—like someone trying very hard not to look guilty, or undone. The nape of her neck, barely visible above her collar, had gone flush with color. The air around her shimmered faintly with suppressed qi, like the surface of a still pond trying not to ripple.
And in that quiet, suspended moment, Su Min understood.
Her gaze lowered, following the crumpled lines of her robe—creased where a knee had pressed, rumpled where fingers had gripped, and now... that faint trace, just beneath the navel, barely visible, but very much there.
This decision was intentional. Rather than shying away from the sensual implications, I leaned into them—tastefully—because it reflects the stage of their relationship. They've already crossed into emotional and physical intimacy, and the story benefits from letting that show more clearly. The physical contact is no longer just an accident. It's a catalyst.
I also gave more space to Su Min's perception. In the original, she comes across almost neutral—teasing Xie Yingying lightly, but without much depth.
"If my solar energy is truly perfect, I will most likely become a true solar body. Who knows, I might have some strange reactions with you then, hehe."
"Woo"
At this moment, Xie Yingying's body couldn't help but tremble, which made Su Min's eyes light up and she suddenly felt it was quite interesting.
So at this time, he quietly walked over from behind and hugged Xie Yingying around the waist, then put his face on the latter's neck and activated the solar energy again and said: "Your face is red, do you have a fever? It's very rare for a cultivator in the fusion stage to have a fever."
This time, before Su Min finished her words, she found that her arms were empty. Xie Yingying had already gone somewhere, after all, the two were just playing around. Su Min couldn't really be ruthless, so naturally she lost control at this time.
"Tsk tsk tsk"
He looked at the empty courtyard and smelled the lingering fragrance on his hands, and a burst of joyful laughter rang out in the yard.
"Hahaha"
I chose to give her more control, more awareness. She notices everything, but chooses not to confront it directly. Instead, she lets her actions speak, teasing in ways that walk a fine line between tenderness and provocation.
Her dialogue is slower, more suggestive, like:
"If my Taiyang energy does reach full perfection, I might truly awaken as a Solar Sovereign Body. Imagine the kind of reaction that would trigger between us. Heh... wouldn't that be exciting?"
A small sound escaped Xie Yingying—something between a hiccup and a squeak. Her entire body jolted.
Su Min's grin deepened, catching the sound with sharp amusement. Her gaze lingered, heavy with mischief. "Oh? What was that? I didn't know you were so sensitive."
With effortless grace, Su Min rose, her movements liquid as she circled behind her prey. The air between them shifted, playful teasing giving way to something heavier, hotter. Step by deliberate step, she closed the distance, until her arms slid around a slender waist, pulling her back against the solid warmth of her body.
"Your face is burning," she murmured, lips grazing the shell of a flushed ear. "A Unity-stage cultivator, catching a fever? Tsk. How… unexpected." Her voice dipped lower, rougher, the words a slow drag against sensitive skin.
Xie Yingying remained rigid, refusing to turn, but the hitch in her breath betrayed her. The rapid flutter of her pulse beneath pale skin, the way her ribs trembled with each unsteady inhale—
...
After that I expand more by add more of the the playful teasing until Xie Yingying overwhelmed and vanish from her claws
And just like that, the spell shattered.
In a flicker of movement, she pulled free, vanishing from Su Min's arms like a gust of wind. But the heat remained, lingering on her skin like a phantom touch, her scent still caught in Su Min's lungs.
"Tch." Su Min smirked, lifting her fingers to inhale the fading sweetness. "So slippery."
"Hahaha..."
The sound echoed through the quiet courtyard, light but tinged with something softer underneath. After a while, her laughter faded, and she rested her elbows on the table, cupping her face with both hands.
And then come this moment of introspection:
"The desire that has been suppressed for a thousand years has completely awakened at this time, but it feels pretty good."
In the original, the line gives us a glimpse of Su Min's emotional state, but it's vague, almost surface-level. It frames her reaction through the word "desire," which can easily be read as romantic or even sensual in nature. However, I felt that "desire" didn't fully capture the breadth of what Su Min was reflecting on here.
So, I reframed it into:
"A thousand years of restraint," she murmured, her voice quiet, thoughtful. "Or perhaps even more. Have I really been holding back for that long?"
This version shifts the tone from a moment of gratification to something quieter and more contemplative. For Su Min, it isn't just about attraction to Xie Yingying—it's about the emotional ice that's slowly starting to melt. She has lived through dynasties, wars, and betrayals. Her restraint isn't just about desire, but about grief, fatigue, detachment, and the fear of loss. I used this scene to make that subtext more explicit, and to explain why she has kept others at arm's length for so long.
That's also why I added:
Perhaps that was the real reason she'd drawn a line between herself and others. Not fear, but certainty. That everyone she grew to care for would one day vanish—and she would still be here.
It's not dramatic. It's just true.
And in that truth, her loneliness becomes more understandable. (｡•́︿•̀｡)
And then follow-up scene, where Su Min notices Xie Yingying's absence.
Originally, it was written quite simply:
"It seems that the attack was a bit harsh. Xie Yingying may be too embarrassed to come out for the time being. Let's go check on my two dear disciples. I don't know how they are doing."
Su Min used her soul power to scan the area, and was surprised to find that she could not find Xie Yingying at all. She had no choice but to leave and go to the sect of the Immortal Sect. But what she didn't know was that Xie Yingying was in the deepest part of Xuantian Palace, using the thousand-year-old ice to help her cool down.
I chose to expand this. Not just to show where Xie Yingying went—but to dive into why she went there, and what she was really dealing with.
My version reads:
"Ah... perhaps I went a little too far."
Su Min stretched lazily, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "Knowing her, she won't show her face for a while now." She extended her spiritual sense outward, brushing over every corner of the sect grounds—only to frown slightly in surprise. No trace of Xie Yingying. Not even a flicker.
"Hm... completely gone?"
Su Min sighed with exaggerated resignation and shook her head, though a small glint of amusement remained in her eyes. Unbeknownst to her, Xie Yingying was already nestled deep within the cold heart of the Xuantian Mansion, seated atop a slab millennia-old ice, doing her utmost to suppress the fire Su Min had lit.
It was a battle of willpower she hadn't anticipated. Xie Yingying's breath came in shallow bursts as she gripped the icy surface beneath her, her mind a tangled mess of conflicting desires. The flame Su Min had ignited within her was impossible to ignore. The Taiyang energy had grown so powerful—almost overwhelming—and every lingering touch, every teasing remark from Su Min had brought her dangerously close to the edge of control.
This wasn't just about physically cooling herself down. It was about emotional restraint, internal struggle, and vulnerability. Xie Yingying is someone who prides herself on control, but Su Min breaks that control with a few teasing words and gentle touches. Her Solar Sovereign Physique resonates so deeply with Xie Yingying's Lunar Sovereign Body that even the most casual contact leaves her disoriented, shaky, and craving more.
Yet Xie Yingying doesn't want to fall into that again—not because she doesn't want Su Min, but because she doesn't want to lose herself. She wants to love with clarity, not impulse. Her line:
"You can't let this happen again," Xie Yingying told herself. She wouldn't—couldn't—allow herself to be so weak.
echoes a past mistake. She's been overwhelmed before—consumed by Su Min's presence and unable to find her center. That kind of loss of self, even if driven by genuine connection, can be terrifying for someone like her.
This entire expansion wasn't written in the original, but I felt it was necessary to show the intensity of their bond. Without it, the shift in their dynamic could feel abrupt. By taking us inside her head—by showing how hard she's working to keep her composure—I hoped to let the reader feel the strain beneath her quiet exterior.
It also sets up future emotional payoff. Every time Su Min so much as smiles at her after this, the reader will understand what it costs Xie Yingying to keep calm. (๑•﹏•)
Chapter: Goodbye (NSFW) – Woven from "Time to Depart" & "Reunion with Yao Xian'er"
This part was originally split across two chapters, but in translation, I chose to weave them together into one seamless narrative arc. It felt more natural that way—the emotional buildup and resolution between Su Min and Xie Yingying flows better when uninterrupted by structural breaks.
The first major change I made was expanding Su Min's monologue at the beginning. Originally, her line was:
"It's time to say our final goodbyes. Let's go find Jie Yingying first."
I expanded this to:
"Time for my final round of goodbyes," Su Min murmured, brushing imaginary dust from her sleeves. "Let's start with my favorite one."
This wasn't just for style. I wanted to show that for Su Min, this moment isn't just about logistics or duty. It's personal. It matters. She teases, yes—but the softness in that line, the way she brushes off her sleeve like she's preparing for something weighty, suggests that this visit to Xie Yingying carries emotional weight, even if she won't say it directly.
The second adjustment I made was in how I handled the lore around their physiques. The original text provides the cultivation mechanics in an almost clinical way: Solar and Lunar Sovereign Bodies can't coexist peacefully, they react strongly, and this attraction is primal.
I kept that foundation, but wove it into the emotional subtext:
But if two such individuals ever met, they'd feel an irresistible pull toward each other—a primal urge rooted deep in their souls, not just physical desire.
By anchoring it in the soul instead of only in the flesh, it reframes their bond from something merely instinctive to something spiritual. Su Min and Xie Yingying aren't just drawn to each other because of their bodies, but because of a deeper resonance—one that both affirms and complicates their relationship. This distinction matters because later, when they finally cross the physical line, it doesn't feel like a loss of control—it feels like a culmination. (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)
The biggest expansion, of course, was the entire lead-up to the dual cultivation scene.
Now, let's take a moment to zoom in on this line:
If both were below the Dao Comprehension stage, there'd be no stopping what came next. But even at the Unity stage, the influence remained.
This sentence says a lot more than it seems at first glance. It reveals the sheer scale of how Yin-Yang resonance affects cultivators with the Lunar Sovereign Physique or Solar Sovereign Physique. Even at the Unity stage, which is already the seven major stage in the cultivation hierarchy, the pull is still potent.
Now let's rewind for a bit. The first time Su Min and Xie Yingying engaged in intimate dual cultivation was all the way back during the Golden Core stage (specifically in Extra 4 (Part 2): Burning Through the Moonlight [NSFW]). At that time, Su Min could only sustain her Solar Sovereign Physique for about three minutes. But make no mistake—she had indeed activated it, and for Xie Yingying, that meant everything.
Golden Core is just the third stage. Dao Comprehension? That's the sixth. So when you consider how deeply the resonance affected Xie Yingying back then, it really puts things into perspective. She wasn't able to resist it at the time—she was swept away by the pull, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the connection. And yet, what followed was decades of inner struggle, a slow, painful process of learning to master that chaos. The fact that she eventually did gain control over something that powerful... to me, that's incredibly impressive. It speaks volumes about her discipline, her growth, and her identity as a cultivator who holds herself to the highest standard.
(๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧
Now that we're on the topic of Extra 4 (Part 2), I want to pull back the curtain on something behind-the-scenes. The first act of that chapter is written with a chaotic, stormy tempo—fast, erratic, urgent. Why? Because it was their first time. More importantly, it was Xie Yingying's first time. In that moment, she was the only one being swept up by the resonance. Su Min didn't feel the pull as strongly, since her Solar Sovereign Physique was temporary. Xie Yingying, on the other hand, is the true bearer of the Lunar Sovereign Physique, so the effect hit her like a tidal wave. (;•̀д•́)
That imbalance persists throughout their dynamic.
By the second act in that same chapter, I made the shift more deliberate. Xie Yingying is no longer being dragged by the current. She's testing things, trying to regain control—and although she ultimately surrenders to the pull again, you can already see that desire to remain grounded.
Fast forward to this chapter.
Originally, the section read:
Normally, Xie Yingying was the picture of grace and aloofness, thanks to her Lunar Sovereign Body and cultivation techniques. But like this? The contrast was hilarious.
It was like those pure-hearted succubi or fallen elves in modern games—a delightful contradiction
This is a cute contrast, but I felt it lacked weight. So instead, I wrote:
She looked like a noble phoenix caught in the middle of a very undignified molt—stunning, composed, and completely horrified.
That small description gives Xie Yingying dignity and vulnerability at once. She isn't just a "blushing beauty," she's a woman trying very hard to maintain her composure in front of the one person who knows exactly how to dismantle it. Throughout the teasing exchange, I emphasized her resistance—not just to Su Min, but to her own emotions, her body, and the craving that comes from being with someone who quite literally completes her.
Lines like:
"You know what this does," she hissed, burying her face in her palms. "This isn't funny anymore."
capture that inner tension. She's not weak. She's overwhelmed. There's a difference.
On Su Min's side, I made sure she wasn't just being a flirt—she was being deliberate. The Taiyang energy isn't just affecting Xie Yingying by accident. Su Min knows exactly what she's doing.
Back then, she could only sustain that aura for a few minutes... Now, she could maintain it for an entire day without collapse—no more frantic countdowns, no desperate rationing of breath and strength.
This expansion clarifies how their dynamic has shifted. In earlier chapters, Su Min state only last for a few minutes. But now, she's fully stepping into her power. And that power affects more than just her cultivation—it affects her partner. Her presence alone can unravel Xie Yingying's careful restraint.
And yet, there's tenderness underneath the teasing. That was something I wanted to preserve, even as the scene edges toward NSFW. The way Su Min boxes her in, the way she smiles, the way she says, "Missed me?"—it's playful, but it's also intimate.
Because of the earlier line I quoted (If both were ...), I structured the scene where Su Min teases Xie Yingying—and Xie Yingying tries to resist—as lengthy and drawn out. I wanted to showcase Xie Yingying control over herself (this is also happen in previous chapter, when Su Min teases her).
The first major shift was in narrative perspective and control. The original structure places Su Min as the dominant one, teasing and pushing Xie Yingying until she cracks. While that dynamic remains in the first half, I wanted to reverse it at the climax—not for shock value, but because it reflects a deeper truth in their relationship.
I wrote:
Su Min hadn't even pulled back before Xie Yingying moved.
A sudden, desperate shift, swift as moonlight skimming water's edge.
With this line, the entire power balance shifts. Xie Yingying, who has always been the one suppressing, the one holding back due to fear or restraint or reverence, finally releases. She becomes the one who moves first—not with hesitation, but with clarity and command. This wasn't about lust alone. It was about permission. About finally accepting that what she wants is not dangerous, not wrong.
I referenced a long-standing inside joke between them:
The beast had awakened. But this time, it didn't need to chase blindly. It knew exactly what it wanted—and how to take it.
In earlier chapters, Su Min had teasingly called Xie Yingying a "beast" after their first experience. It stuck, and here I reclaimed that label as a symbol of agency, not shame. "Beast" no longer implies loss of control—it now implies confidence. Hunger, yes, but also trust. A knowing kind of dominance that comes only after deep emotional connection.
But more importantly, I use the two lines after that—"didn't need to chase blindly" and "knew exactly what it wanted"—to highlight her growth.
She's no longer overwhelmed. She's in control.
Throughout this entire chapter, I left breadcrumbs to show Xie Yingying's self-discipline, and how she takes the reins in their dynamic. She's the dominant one here—the one who leads, the one who holds back, until she decides to act. Su Min, on the other hand, is the one who surrenders, the one who gets swept away. I wrote her narrative to reflect that:
It was surrender.
Su Min nearly sobbed. Her eyes fluttered shut, and her voice cracked. "I missed this," she whispered. "I missed you. I want you. I need you, Yingying. Don't stop. Please, don't stop…"
She yielded completely. And Xie Yingying guided her through it.
This contrast isn't just for show. It emphasizes just how much control Xie Yingying really has—even when she's the one affected by the resonance. Even when Su Min keeps unraveling, climaxing again and again, Xie Yingying remains grounded. Calm. Devastatingly in charge.
That's the illusion I wanted to create: even though Xie Yingying should be the one losing control, she's the one orchestrating every moment.
It also ties back to something the original author once dropped in passing:
You have to know that because of her Taiyin body and the cultivation method she practices, Xie Yingying is usually very dignified and aloof.
And previous chapter in original version:
Taiyang energy in her body had a terrifying attraction to Xie Yingying, who had a yin body. Of course, the other party was not a beast that could not control itself. It was just that after seeing her, she probably obeyed the desires of her body.
The thing is, those lines tell us what kind of person she is. What I wanted to do in this chapter was to actually show it—through her control, her restraint, her dominance. It's a portrayal not just of physical interaction, but of emotional strength and character.
Now, let's not forget: this chapter isn't just a bed scene. It's intimate dual cultivation, deeply tied to the Yin-Yang resonance between them. So naturally, I layered those concepts throughout the chapter, with passages like:
Their opposing energies, once volatile, now danced in delicate harmony. Taiyin and Taiyang, no longer fighting for dominance, began to entwine like two rivers meeting in the valley of fate—gentle at first, then surging, unstoppable.
Her Taiyin qi responded instinctively, flowing toward the Taiyang heat with reverent longing.
A quiet whimper escaped her throat as Su Min's lips trailed down the column of her neck, lingering at the hollow of her throat—her spiritual pulse point. The moment Su Min pressed a kiss there, her meridians flared open, and their resonance deepened with frightening intensity.
With every slow glide of Su Min's fingers, every kiss that descended lower, Xie Yingying felt the pressure building—not just within her body, but within her very soul. Her meridians began to shimmer faintly, Taiyin qi blooming like a moonflower opening to golden dawn.
Her Taiyin energy pulsed again—potent, cool, intoxicating. It slithered into Su Min's body like a tide, wrapping around her dantian like ivy choking sunlight. The Taiyang within her surged, but it did not resist. It folded, reverent, like dawn bowing to dusk.
These descriptions aren't just poetic fluff—they reflect their spiritual bond, the way their energies interlace during cultivation. It's intimate, but also mystical. A resonance of body, soul, and qi.
And, to wrap this up, remember what Jian Xi once said:
After all, the first time a Lunar Sovereign Body cultivator engaged in dual cultivation, their essence blood would enter their partner's body.
I echoed that subtly here too:
The sensation of being filled—not just physically, but spiritually—overwhelmed her. Her petals bloomed, unguarded, and her energy responded like a tide pulled by the sun.
Another surge of Taiyin energy crept into her meridians. Cool, black, and endless. It coiled in her limbs, nestled in her bones, cradled her core with devastating tenderness.
Her entire body convulsed, caught in the tide. A radiant glow pulsed from her dantian, but it wasn't pure white anymore. Faint threads of black glimmered in the light.
She pressed her palm to Su Min's lower belly, right over the dantian where white now danced with black, and whispered something too soft to catch.
These aren't just pretty details—they show that something fundamental has changed inside their body. Something was passed on. Something sacred, intimate, irreversible.
Another key expansion was the way I handled time:
They didn't count the peaks. There was no need.
They didn't speak of time, either. It passed not in hours, but in shared heartbeats...
Originally, Su Min's Solar Sovereign state was limited to three minutes—a source of frustration, tension, and restraint. But now, it lasts an entire day. I used that change not only to allow for an extended scene, but to show what it means for them emotionally.
This wasn't indulgence. This was healing.
The gift of time, uninterrupted by the world or their cultivation limits, became a space where both of them could just exist. It was peace. It was presence.
And even when Su Min was completely spent, she still gave herself to Xie Yingying:
Her breaths came slow and shallow... limp and pliant in her embrace.
But Xie Yingying didn't stop.
Even when the Taiyang glow dimmed... she never pulled away.
It says everything about their relationship. That Su Min trusts Xie Yingying not just with her body, but with her spirit. That Xie Yingying, once afraid of taking too much, now knows how to give without hurting.
Even when Su Min is exhausted she allows herself to keep receiving, and this was important. Their dynamic has always revolved around protection, and here, Su Min chooses to be vulnerable:
Even when Su Min's gaze grew hazy... she never pulled away.
And still, she gave.
She let Xie Yingying guide her down again—open, willing, and completely hers.
This was one of the most important lines in this section, because it encapsulates their dynamic now. Su Min trusts Xie Yingying enough to let go. She isn't afraid of being overwhelmed. She doesn't feel the need to be the strongest person in the room. She can collapse, and know that the hands catching her won't vanish.
This was never just about cultivation. It was about surrender, safety, and acceptance.
lower part of "chapter: Time to depart" originally ended with a brief, almost clinical sealing of Taiyang energy and a note that Su Min would be leaving soon. Xie Yingying's affection remained buried under habit and decorum, and Su Min's departure lacked emotional closure.
In the translated and restructured version, I wanted to go deeper. Their last night together was not just physical release—it was culmination, confession, and a quiet promise made in silence.
The aftercare portion was the first place I expanded.
Rather than ending the scene with a physical cooldown, I slowed the moment into something rare for both of them: stillness. The lovers who had once chased cultivation and vengeance now lay beside one another, vulnerable in a way that had nothing to do with their bodies.
"I didn't mean to lose control," Xie Yingying said quietly…
Originally, there was no room for Xie Yingying's doubt. But here, she reflects—openly and vulnerably—for the first time in this arc. It's not about her cultivation or restraint anymore. It's about her heart.
She confesses she thought she had trained herself to endure Su Min's presence without falling again, but the moment they touched, she knew she was wrong. That line wasn't just romantic. It was an emotional confession masked in simple words.
"You're mine."
"Yes," she whispered. "I've always been."
This mutual acknowledgment had been building across several arcs. The resonance between them was once described as fate, as cultivation compatibility. But here, it became something human. Something chosen.
And still, it was never loud. The tone remained soft, restrained—reflective of who they are. This scene marked the first time both characters admitted, without humor or sidestepping, that what they shared wasn't just circumstance. It was love.
Then came the farewell section, told across two halves—the late night, and the morning after.
In the original version, Su Min left after Xie Yingying rejected her offer to help her cultivate. The conversation ended with a light note, and Su Min left to build the secret realm.
But that stripped the weight from their goodbye.
In the revised version, I rewrote the morning as a quiet, sacred interlude. Both women now carried the emotional marks of the night before—visible in the soft ache of limbs and the bruises left by heat and hunger, but more importantly, in the way they spoke to each other.
"You'll come back."
"I always do, don't I?"
"That's not what I meant."
Here, I expanded what was once a one-line acknowledgment into a true emotional exchange. Xie Yingying, who once hid behind formality, speaks her truth plainly:
"Let me say it... Just once. Come back. No matter how long it takes. Come back to me."
That line was essential. It wasn't about physical longing. It was about hope. And faith.
Her request was not dramatic, not desperate—but resolute. It echoed Su Min's promise from earlier arcs, but reversed. For once, Xie Yingying was the one who asked Su Min to stay safe, to return. Not for the world. Not for the realm. But for her.
Throughout the morning-after scene, I placed symbolic cues to their changed relationship. For instance:
"Her robe—half-slid over one shoulder... clung more like mist than fabric."
The imagery evoked is no longer cold or aloof. Xie Yingying wears the aftermath like a second skin. She isn't hiding. She doesn't rush to restore her composure. She lets herself be seen—and that, for someone like her, is an act of love in itself.
Even Su Min's departure is no longer impulsive or brusque. It carries reverence:
"Her departure was quiet, but her presence lingered, like the last warmth of sunlight before winter claims the sky."
That line reframes Su Min's usual comings and goings. She is no longer just the wandering alchemist with a hidden past. She is someone leaving behind a part of her soul. And both of them know it.
Finally, the chapter closes where the original did—with the creation of the Secret Realm—but now infused with longing:
"Still, somewhere in her thoughts—between the flickers of flame and frost—was a girl with moonlight in her eyes and fire in her veins."
"...Don't wait too long," Su Min murmured, half to the wind, half to herself. And then the forest bloomed.
That last line is symbolic. Their goodbye isn't an ending. It's the start of new growth.
In the original, this was a transitional chapter.
In the translated and expanded version, it became a rite of passage. Not for their power, but for their hearts.
And so the chapter ends—not with a break, but with a bloom.
If you curious about the "full goodbye" original version, I write it in the next chapter.
I spent more than two weeks writing this chapter. It's only the second time I've written an explicit scene, but in many ways, it felt even harder than the first. Not because of the content itself, but because I had so much I wanted to express through it.
This chapter wasn't just about sex. It was about personality, about emotional buildup, about trust, and about letting go.
I wanted Su Min's mischievous nature to shine through, how she uses teasing as both armor and affection. I wanted to show how Xie Yingying restrains herself constantly, how tightly she holds the reins of her desire, and what it means when she finally lets go. Their dynamic has always been clear in my mind: Xie Yingying is the one who gives, who dominates quietly but absolutely, while Su Min submits—willingly, lovingly, trustingly.
But it's one thing to know that, and another to show it in a way that feels natural. I kept asking myself: In what situation can I express this clearly, without disrupting the rhythm I've built up across the story? That balance—between narrative pacing, character voice, and sensual tension—was incredibly difficult to maintain.
I also emphasized the theme of time throughout the chapter. Back then, Su Min's Solar Sovereign state only lasted for three minutes a day. Now, after absorbing the Taiyang essence, it lasts a full day—and that matters. Not just as a power-up, but because of what it means for the two of them.
A whole day means they don't have to rush. It means Xie Yingying no longer has to suppress herself. It means Su Min can give, and keep giving, even when she's exhausted—because she wants to. Because she loves her.
This chapter also deepened a quieter thread that's been there from the beginning: Su Min spoils Xie Yingying. She always has. Not always with gifts or praise, but with herself. With how easily she gives in to what Xie Yingying wants, whether it's spiritual support, safety, or—here—intimacy. It's a pattern that continues in The Eastern Azure Wood, Extra 4 (Part 2): Burning Through the Moonlight (NSFW), The Nascent Soul Pill is Complete, and Chaos Creation. But here, I wanted to make that spoiling explicit—framed through love, not power imbalance.
Then came the aftercare section.
This part mattered to me deeply. Throughout the entire novel, Xie Yingying rarely speaks openly about her feelings. And Su Min despite everything they've been through, never directly voices the nature of their relationship. Until now.
This was the one place in the story where I wanted that vulnerability to surface.
For once, they stop teasing. They stop performing. They just speak. And what they say isn't grand or dramatic—it's honest. Soft. Raw.
"You're mine."
"Yes. I've always been."
Simple lines, but ones that say everything they've never put into words. That scene became the emotional anchor of the entire chapter.
And finally, there's the morning after. I knew I didn't want it to be dramatic or tearful. They're not that kind of couple. But it had to carry the weight of what they'd shared the night before, and the uncertainty of what's coming next. In contrast to the aftercare scene that focused on Xie Yingying, this one centers on Su Min.
The tension is quieter now, but it lingers—in the ache of her body, in the way her gaze lingers on Xie Yingying's skin, in the hesitation before she walks away. The goodbye had already happened in words. Now it happens in silence. In touch. In absence.
I was honestly afraid this chapter might come off as cringe, clipped, or awkward. That fear followed me throughout the process—just like when I wrote Extra 4 (Part 2). But this time felt harder. Because this wasn't just about writing an NSFW scene. It was about closure. About what it means to love someone, fully and without pride, even when you have to let them go.
So I truly hope you enjoyed it—and that it landed the way I meant it to.