Chapter 64: Who’s Holding a Blade…
Absorbing Yin to Nourish Yang refers to a technique where a man enhances his Yang energy by taking in a woman’s essence.
It was a method of health cultivation developed by the Daoists, allowing men and women to mutually enjoy and grow their True Qi through intimate pleasure.
However, thanks to one bastard’s stick, it was discovered that the effect of internal energy growth was several hundred times greater if only one party enjoyed it.
Thus, techniques that harmed the other person were deemed wicked, while mutually pleasurable methods became an embarrassing yet accepted aspect of maintaining a happy household.
Murim is vast, and people’s tastes vary widely.
Absorbing Yang to Nourish Yin existed as well, and some sects specialized in it. However, it was designated as a heinous martial crime and disappeared from sight.
On the other hand, Absorbing Yin to Nourish Yang, famously practiced by Thousand Blossoms Hall, was classified as a righteous orthodox sect technique and continues to operate without issue. This highlights how society’s standards can be rather biased.
There were even entire illustrated erotica collections inspired by Thousand Blossoms Hall, earning official recognition as a distinct genre within the world of erotic art.
And then, there was Absorbing Yang to Nourish Yin.
The most infamous sect specializing in this was none other than Palace of Bliss.
After its founder, the Lustful Demoness, Sunwoo Seol, declared that she would grant men the happiest deaths possible, countless men had their lives sucked dry beneath the thighs of the Palace’s disciples.
Since this technique harmed others for the sake of cultivation, the sect was, of course, labeled a public enemy of the Murim.
However, instead of being annihilated, they fled to the distant lands of Xinjiang—only to run into the Demonic Cult, which was raising its banners for an invasion of the Central Plains and fostering its thirst for revenge.
Joining the Demonic Cult was the obvious next step.
Currently, the leader of Palace of Bliss is a high-level female martial artist known as Saintess, Hamwol.
"Saintess" refers to Xi Shi, the most beautiful woman in history.
The title "Xi Shi's Divine Saintess" did not signify Hamwol’s own beauty but rather perfectly captured her sheer shamelessness.
After all, she had given herself the nickname and openly flaunted it.
Thus, the people of the Central Plains could only respond with resignation:
"Ugh… sure, whatever. If you insist, then fine. Just take it and go."
They simply added one more character to her title: Xi Shi's Retard Saintess[^Hamwol originally calls herself "서시신녀 (Seo Shi Shin Nyeo)
However, people mock her by inserting 병 (Byeong)—short for 병신 (Byeong Shin), meaning cripple or retard. (Seo Shi Byeong Shin Nyeo)
Seo Shi Shin Nyeo = Xi Shi Divine Saintess
Seo Shi Byeong Shin Nyeo = Xi Shi Retard Saintess"], Hamwol.
She was a woman who never left the Demonic Cult’s domain.
Many longed to slice that shameless face with a blade, but they couldn’t, which was a source of lifelong regret.
From that perspective, now was the perfect opportunity to resolve that regret.
For Xi Shi's Retard Saintess, Hamwol had secretly infiltrated the outskirts of Hubei Province.
“Hehehe, kidnapping the disciple of the Grand Matriarch… I can’t say I particularly enjoy using such lowly tricks against my lifelong nemesis.”
The boy listening to her words—Demonic Cult's youngest Iron-Faced Master Strategist, Ji Seungju —remained expressionless as he thought to himself:
"What a load of bullshit. A woman who does nothing but suck the essence out of men dares to call the Zenith amongst female martial artist her ‘lifelong nemesis’? You’re already past sixty, yet you’re still stuck at the pinnacle of the Trancendent Realm, you old hag—what a joke"
None of his disdain showed on his face.
Ji Seungju was infamous for never having shown an expression even once in his fifteen years of life.
That was why he was called Iron-Faced Master Strategist.
His face was as unreadable as if he were wearing an iron mask.
His mind, however, saw through everything.
Pavilion Lord, Iron-Faced Master Strategist, Ji Seungju.
“This mission must succeed. His Eminence has personally descended.”
“His Eminence! Truly? His Eminence is here?”
Hamwol’s expression melted into bliss.
“If this mission is a success, will this humble girl receive His Eminence’s favor? What do you think, Pavilion Lord?”
Ji Seungju responded.
"What the fuck? ‘Young mistress,’ my ass"
'…Of course.'
Hamwol’s eyes narrowed.
“Pavilion Chief, your words and inner thoughts are contradicting each other again. And did you just say ‘What the fuck’? Were you directing that at this humble girl?”
“My apologies. This happens occasionally. I tend to mutter to myself since I am not talkative.”
Ji Seungju offered a deadpan apology, his face unchanged.
It wasn't the first time the Iron-Faced Master Strategist had done this.
Thus, there wasn’t a single member of the Demonic Cult who didn’t know that Ji Seungju’s outward words and inner thoughts were completely different.
Hamwol’s insides boiled.
But there was nothing she could do about it.
Another title for Pavilion Chief was Demonic Strategist—the personal advisor to the Demonic Cult’s leader.
This expressionless, arrogant little brat was the right-hand man of the Demonic Cult’s Supreme Leader.
No matter how frustrated she was, she couldn’t take it out on him.
As Hamwol suppressed her rage, the brat spoke again.
“There’s no need for the Xi Shi Divine Saintess to personally act for the abduction. The real challenge is breaking the will of the disciple of Ximen Surin.”
“What if, in addition to the abduction, I also manage to complete that task? Surely, His Eminence would grant me his favor?”
A lecherous expectation glowed in Hamwol’s expression.
Although she was mocked as the Xi Shi Retarded Saintess, her beauty was truly world-shaking.
On the surface, she looked like a mature, seductive woman in her thirties.
On the surface. If one only looked at the surface.
"What crime did His Eminence commit to deserve dealing with a wrinkled old hag of sixty-three?"
Suppressing his true thoughts, Ji Seungju answered.
“…If that truly happens, His Eminence will surely take notice.”
At the same time, he thought:
'Ah… the Supreme Leader’s position is truly a pitiful one.'
Feeling sympathy for his leader, Ji Seungju quickly changed the subject.
“So, you mentioned a way to lure Ximen Qing away?”
“Would there be an easier fool to handle than a woman who believes herself to be a righteous heroine? This humble girl will personally lure her away, so Pavilion Chief, simply prepare to tie her up nicely.”
Ji Seungju responded with his usual blank expression.
"Bullshit. What ‘humble girl’?"
“…Ah, my words came out backward again. My apologies.”
Was this little bastard doing this on purpose?
The veins on Hamwol’s forehead throbbed.
Qing’s lightness skill carried her forward at incredible speed.
Because just beyond those mountains, Sichuan was waiting for her.
More importantly, countless mouthwatering dishes were eagerly awaiting her arrival.
Ma and La![^Meaning numbing hot/spicy. "Numbing" (麻) and "Spicy (piquant)" (辣)]
The fiery challenge of Sichuan’s legendary spice.
As a righteous expert, Qing had a duty to accept that challenge.
She was powering forward with gluttonous determination when—
“Someone, please help me!”
A delicate voice, one that stirred a man’s soul.
Though Qing had the body of a woman, her inner self was another story.
With a swift pivot using her Yue Maiden Footwork, Qing changed direction at a right angle.
Brushing past the thicket, she followed the voice and found a half-naked woman before her.
Her torn top barely covered her breasts, and her skirt was ripped wide open to her waist, fully exposing her undergarments.
“P-please… help me…”
“What happened? Hmm.”
Qing didn’t know where to look, averting her gaze into the distance.
Of course, she couldn’t help but sneak glances.
It was impossible to completely resist instinct.
And then, the woman threw herself into Qing’s arms.
The sweet scent of her body flooded Qing’s senses, making her mind momentarily hazy.
“H-Hey! This is… not proper… You can’t just…”
“Hik… huhuuk…”
The woman burst into sobs within Qing’s embrace.
Qing’s hands flailed awkwardly in midair before she cautiously patted the woman’s back.
It was a purely comforting gesture. No ulterior motives.
…Though, damn, she was really soft.
Qing had already accompanied Peng Daesan across various cities, experiencing the beauty of countless women.
And the disciples of the Divine Maiden Sect, who practiced Maiden Fairy Arts, were also no joke in terms of appearance.
She had started to think that her standards had become too high.
Yet, this woman before her? She was exceptional.
But… something felt off.
At that moment, the woman urgently grabbed Qing’s hand.
“Hero, please! My village—villains have invaded…”
It was a classic story.
A gang of bandits had raided the village, slaughtering the men and preying on the women.
Incidents like these were common throughout the Central Plains.
Qing played along.
“Damn bastards!”
“Will you… will you help us?”
“I want to slice them all down this instant. So, where are these bastards?”
“Oh! Thank you! Thank you so much…”
The woman clutched Qing’s hands tightly, expressing gratitude.
At the same time, she thought to herself—
Damn, that was easy.
Righteous experts were all the same.
When a woman in distress called for help, female warriors—especially those from the orthodox sects—tended to be even more righteous than men.
Half the so-called righteous male heroes would first look around to check if anyone was watching. If the coast was clear, they’d whip out their dicks and try to have their way.
Of course, Hamwol often used that very situation to her advantage—thanking them sweetly before sucking them dry. But it never failed to disgust her.
This trick had many variations.
For more righteous and naïve types, pretending to be suffering from aphrodisiac poisoning worked best.
They were idiots.
What? You’ll die if you don’t relieve the poison?
If that were true, why would anyone ever use poisons in the first place?
She could just drug them and wait.
All that was left now was to lure this fool into a secluded hideout, and the Demonic Cult’s warriors would take care of the rest.
“Then, I shall lead the way.”
Feigning fragility, Hamwol took the lead.
She took one step forward.
And at the same moment—
Shk!
“Urk.”
Hamwol’s body shuddered.
Her trembling eyes slowly lowered.
Between her heaving breasts, a sword tip peeked through her chest, almost as if smiling at her.
"Hi there! I’m the sword tip!"
Hamwol was a martial artist in the late stage of Transcendent Realm.
But no matter how strong one was, if they were completely off guard, a precise blade infused with sword force to the back was deadly.
As she experienced the sensation of her heart being shredded apart, Hamwol desperately croaked out—
“Why…? How…?”
“Hmm, because of the 400 points?”
“…What… are you saying…”
Hamwol couldn’t comprehend.
But she knew one thing for certain—this was unfair.
"She recognized my face."
Fine. That made sense.
After all, as the disciple of Ximen Surin, she could have known…
"But what kind of righteous warrior launches an ambush this naturally?!"
Not even the slightest change in expression.
Not a single trace of killing intent.
That was the end of Hamwol’s consciousness.
A wretched end for a heinous demoness who had drained countless men dry.
Qing withdrew her sword.
Ordinary warriors pull the blade out the same way it went in.
But Qing preferred to twist and remove it in a different direction—up, down, sideways—whatever caused the most damage.
Shlaaak!
The blade exited through Hamwol’s armpit.
Fresh blood gushed out.
The thick, iron-tinged aroma filled the air.
Qing took a deep breath.
Ahhh, this scent!
God, I missed this smell…
She curled her lips into a wicked grin.
"I had a good feeling about today."
A major demonic figure offering her back so easily?
Qing nodded to herself.
"Yep, today’s a lucky day."