The moon-viewing pool was silent except for the gentle ripple of water and Ling Xue'er's soft, uneven breathing.
She sat on the stone edge, knees drawn up, white robes damp at the hem from the mist. Her small hands clutched the fabric tightly, knuckles pale. The kiss—the first real kiss of her life—still burned on her lips.
Xiao Yang knelt before her, close enough to feel the cool purity of her yin qi, but not touching. Not yet.
"I… I shouldn't have done that," she whispered, voice trembling. "Senior Brother Zhao and I promised each other purity until marriage. We've waited since we were children."
Tears gathered in her luminous eyes.
"But when you're near me… my heart races. My qi feels like it's on fire. I've never felt anything like this."
Xiao Yang reached out slowly, giving her time to pull away.
She didn't.
His fingers brushed a tear from her cheek.
"Your yin is too pure, Xue'er," he said softly. "It's never been balanced by strong yang before. That's why it feels overwhelming."
She looked up at him, innocent and lost.
"Can you… help me calm it? Like you said? Just qi circulation?"
He nodded.
They moved to a cushioned meditation mat beside the pool.
She sat cross-legged, back straight in perfect posture. He sat facing her, their knees touching.
Palms pressed together.
The moment contact was made, her pure yin essence surged toward him like a pristine mountain spring—cool, powerful, untouched.
His High-grade Heavenly Yang flowed back—warm, golden, enveloping.
Ling Xue'er's eyes fluttered shut. A soft gasp escaped her lips.
"Oh… it's… so warm…"
Her body swayed forward instinctively.
The Yin-Yang Harmony Scripture activated naturally, cycling their qi in gentle waves.
Minutes passed.
Her breathing deepened. Her cheeks flushed a delicate pink.
Then, suddenly, her bottleneck at peak Core Formation trembled.
A soft moan slipped out as yin essence refined itself against his yang.
She leaned forward until her forehead rested against his.
"It's loosening… my bottleneck…"
He guided more yang qi into her palms, careful not to push too far.
Her hands tightened around his.
"More… please… just a little more…"
To reach deeper, skin contact was needed.
He released her hands gently and placed his palms on her lower abdomen, over her robes, directly above her dantian.
She stiffened, then relaxed with a shudder.
Through the thin silk, he could feel the frantic heat of her pure yin gathering.
His yang poured in—gentle but insistent.
Ling Xue'er's head fell back. Her lips parted in a silent cry.
The breakthrough hit softly—peak Core Formation stabilizing, traces of half-Nascent Soul appearing.
Her body trembled with aftershocks of pleasure.
When she opened her eyes, they were glazed, filled with wonder and guilt.
"I… I broke through," she whispered. "Because of you."
Her hands moved hesitantly to his wrists, holding them against her abdomen.
"I should stop this," she said, voice breaking. "I love Senior Brother Zhao. I truly do."
"I know."
"But I've never felt so… alive."
She leaned in again, kissing him this time—deeper, braver, small tongue tentatively brushing his.
The kiss grew heated.
Her robes loosened under trembling fingers.
Soon she sat in only her inner silk slip, modest yet clinging to her slender curves—small breasts with hardened peaks visible through the fabric, narrow waist, flawless legs.
Xiao Yang kept control, moving slowly.
He guided her to lie back on the mat, kissing down her neck, over her collarbone.
When his mouth closed over one nipple through the silk, she arched with a cry.
"Xiao Yang… ah… what is this feeling…"
He lavished attention on her breasts, then moved lower, parting her thighs.
The first touch of his tongue on her sacred valley drew a keening wail.
She was impossibly sensitive—pure yin making every lick electric.
Her first orgasm hit quickly, body bowing, yin essence flooding his mouth in sweet, powerful waves.
He drank it all, feeling his own cultivation surge toward middle Core Formation.
When she collapsed, panting, he gathered her into his arms.
They did not go further—not full dual cultivation.
Not yet.
She clung to him, crying softly.
"I'm sorry, Senior Brother Zhao… I'm so sorry…"
But her arms tightened around Xiao Yang's neck.
"I'll come back tomorrow night," she whispered against his skin. "I… I need more help."
He kissed her forehead.
"I'll be here."
As dawn approached, he left her sleeping peacefully—robes discreetly rearranged, face serene for the first time since arriving at the sect.
Then he climbed Jade Phoenix Peak.
Su Qingxue was waiting at the doors, silver hair loose, wearing only a thin night robe.
The moment he stepped inside, she slammed him against the wall.
Her kiss was fierce, possessive, tasting of jealousy and desperation.
"I felt it," she hissed against his lips. "Your qi carries her scent. Pure. Young. Innocent."
Her hands tore at his robes.
"Did you take her virginity?"
"No," he said honestly. "Only helped her breakthrough. Partial."
Pain and relief warred in her eyes.
Then raw need won.
She dragged him to the bed, pushing him down and straddling him immediately.
Her night robe fell away.
She was naked beneath—full, mature breasts heavy and swaying, hips wide and fertile, sacred valley already dripping with arousal.
She guided him inside her with one swift motion.
Both groaned.
She rode him hard—fierce, claiming, tears streaming down her face.
"Mine," she gasped with every thrust. "You're mine first. Mine longest. Mine deepest."
He gripped her hips, meeting her desperately.
"Yes, Qingxue… always yours…"
Her nails raked his chest.
"Fill me… mark me… erase her from your body…"
The sex was raw, animalistic.
She came twice quickly—Nascent Soul yin essence exploding in waves that pushed him into middle Core Formation.
On her third climax, she collapsed forward, biting his shoulder to muffle her scream.
He followed, flooding her womb with thick yang essence.
They lay tangled, sweating, hearts pounding.
After long minutes, she whispered against his neck:
"I hate that I'm jealous. I hate that I want you all to myself when I have no right."
He stroked her hair.
"You have every right. You're my phoenix."
She lifted her head, eyes red from crying.
"Bring her to me one day," she said quietly. "If she falls… let me see her. Let me accept her. Or I'll go mad with imagining."
He kissed her softly.
"If that's what you need."
She nestled against his chest.
"Dawn is breaking. Stay until I sleep."
He held her until her breathing evened out, body soft and sated in his arms.
The system spoke one final time.
But Xiao Yang silenced it.
Because in the quiet aftermath, holding the woman whose heart he had stolen first—feeling her possessive grip even in sleep—he knew the truth.
The hunt was no longer just for power.
It was for the dangerous, impossible dream of keeping them both.
Without destroying them all.