Chapter 9: Internal Heat  

Qin Miaoyan propped herself up on her arms. The sky outside was still dark. She watched as Li Fuguang rubbed the arm she had bitten fiercely, silently sitting up. She grabbed his arm and channeled spirit power into it, quickly making the bite marks disappear.  

“You didn’t sleep?” Qin Miaoyan had just woken from those vivid dreams of the past, her mood and voice heavy with gloom.  

Li Fuguang withdrew his hand and reached out to lift Qin Miaoyan’s chin. The gesture was undeniably intimate, but when Qin Miaoyan sat cross-legged and met his gaze, she saw only deep remorse in his eyes.  

“I was watching over you, Your Eminence. You really were having nightmares. I’m sorry for ruining your blanket.”  

Li Fuguang scratched his head and said, “I grew up in the Secret Realm and never saw many fine things. I didn’t know about precious materials like Cloud Silk. I thought you wouldn’t want anything I’d slept on, and I didn’t dare use something as valuable as Silk of the Merfolk. I can’t repay your kindness, so I just wanted to cover myself with whatever was at hand…”  

“Your Eminence,” Li Fuguang sighed, looking at Qin Miaoyan, “how can someone as good as you exist in this world?”  

“My mother told me people outside the Secret Realm were all wicked and never let me leave,” he continued. “But the moment I stepped out, I met you. You treat me better than my own mother—never minding my foolishness or my thick leg hair…”  

Qin Miaoyan let out a derisive laugh.  

Half-leaning against the headboard, she couldn’t be bothered to maintain any pretense now. One leg was bent, the other stretched out, her toes just a palm’s width from Li Fuguang’s crotch. A slight shift, and she could tease his “treasure.” The aura around her was one of arrogance, mockery, gloom, and aloofness—nothing like the “good person” Li Fuguang described.  

Yet he remained oblivious, speaking with such sincerity, his gaze burning with admiration.  

It made Qin Miaoyan want to laugh—and almost believe she *was* a “good person.”  

This wasn’t the first time she’d been called one, of course. Those people always regretted it bitterly once they learned the truth, hurling every vile insult imaginable at her.  

Qin Miaoyan usually laughed at that. She quite enjoyed the spectacle.  

Now, she couldn’t wait to see what this fool would do when he discovered her true nature and motives. What words would he use to curse her?  

Languidly reclining by the bed, she gave Li Fuguang an inscrutable look. “Since there’s no more Cloud Silk, will you watch over me every night from now on?”  

Her gaze was dripping with seduction, her posture openly inviting—like a flower in full bloom, ready to be plucked and ravished. With her eyes alone, she spun puppet silk, slowly tightening it around her prey.  

“*Gege*…” Her red lips parted, releasing the unmistakably flirtatious term.  

Li Fuguang’s spine stiffened instinctively, his throat tightening as if bound by an invisible cord. He touched his neck, took a deep breath, and nodded. “I’ll watch over you every night, Your Eminence… *cough!*”  

He coughed hard, dispelling the suffocating sensation, and said earnestly, “I’ll watch over you as you sleep.”  

He added, “And I’ll play the role of your *gege* well—until you find a way to dispel your heart demon.”  

His eyes remained fixed on Qin Miaoyan, unable to look away, as a strange urge to draw closer to her took root.

Yet this sensation felt utterly unfamiliar to him. After all, in the Secret Realm where he grew up, apart from his birth mother and some female relatives from the clan, there were only other female Spirit beasts.

Since childhood, he had roamed mountains and rivers, wild as an untamed stallion.

His youth was as shallow as a creek unable to submerge river sand—utterly transparent, with everything about him laid bare.

He had seen women, but had never truly understood what it meant to be a woman, let alone known the meaning of desire.

Qin Miaoyan flicked out the tip of her tongue, licking her lower lip.

She smiled, having thought of a better way to slowly taint this clear spring.

“You grew up in a Secret Realm?” Qin Miaoyan was somewhat surprised, but upon reflection of his behavior since they met, it made perfect sense.

He did resemble a pampered young master from an Immortal sect, yet carried a rustic wildness they lacked, unburdened by the ingrained rules and etiquette that dictated their every move.

So he truly was a wild child.

Twenty years ago, when the Inverted Sea of Pluto Stars turned the world upside down, some Cultivation Clans unwilling to join the War between immortals and demons had hidden in Secret Realms to survive. Such things were hardly unusual.

“Yes,” Li Fuguang said. “I sneaked out this time.”

Qin Miaoyan had long guessed he was a runaway, so this came as no surprise. After all, no proper Cultivation Clan would easily let such an unworldly young master wander alone.

She cared little about his origins. Whether he was the son of a sect that hid in a Secret Realm twenty years ago or the heir of one of today’s most powerful Sects, she would play with him all the same.

Qin Miaoyan soon lay down to sleep, as dawn was still some time away.

Meanwhile, Li Fuguang, thoroughly provoked by her earlier advances, found himself unable to sleep—not by choice, but from genuine restlessness.

He burned with an inexplicable heat, his body’s warmth pooling low as he tossed and turned. Sitting cross-legged, he began practicing the cooling technique his father had taught him—a common Mind-clearing technique among cultivators.

Li Fuguang’s parents had him late in life, nearly sacrificing half their lifespans to bear this sole heir at over five hundred years old. They cherished him like fragile treasure.

Raised in isolation within the Secret Realm, he knew no strife. His elders taught him nothing, deeming him too young—even basic human desires were dismissed as mere Internal heat, something to suppress.

Moreover, cultivators shouldn’t Release vital essence too early, as it hindered Cultivation. With only clan relatives in the Secret Realm and no potential Dao companions, Li Fuguang had treated his urges as mere Spirit power fluctuations since his teens.

It took him a long while to suppress this “Internal heat.”

Yet he never forgot to watch over Qin Miaoyan, channeling Spirit power to soothe her whenever she showed signs of restlessness. This required pressing his palm to her Spirit platform between her brows.

Against all odds, Qin Miaoyan slept soundly despite the absence of Cloud Silk and her usual turbulent dreams—each nascent dream dispersed by white mist before it could fully form.

The next morning, when Qin Miaoyan opened her eyes, she found Li Fuguang leaning against the headboard with his eyes closed, his large palm gently pressed against the Spirit Platform between her brows.

She lifted his hand away, and he immediately woke up, his voice hoarse as he asked, “Did the Venerable One sleep well?”

Qin Miaoyan pulled herself up with his hand and gave him a gentle smile, nodding. For once, her heart softened unexpectedly.

No matter what, since he had promised to watch over her, he had at least kept his word every time without slacking off.

His palm was scorching hot, his meridians vibrant, and his arms robust.

He was still wearing the tattered strips of Cloud Silk from yesterday—that set of Silk of the Merfolk inner robes remained untouched.

Bare-chested and with his hair loose, his handsome yet slightly haggard morning appearance had a unique charm.

As long as he didn’t speak, he was exactly the way she liked him.

It was a shame he wasn’t mute.

“Venerable One, I’m hungry,” he said, always succumbing to the basic human needs, utterly devoid of any immortal grace—quite unworthy of his handsome face.

Qin Miaoyan looked at his long but not slender fingers, which seemed incredibly strong. Morning desires stirred in her, leaving her somewhat unsatisfied.

She had never suppressed her emotions or desires. At her current status, there was no reason to endure unfulfilled cravings.

Unfortunately, she had sent her little pet away, and this brat before her wasn’t quite ripe yet.

Her two disciples… well, she didn’t touch her own disciples.

“Then let’s eat,” she said, taking out a jade token to summon Xiao Chun.

But today’s meal wasn’t going to be simple.

Having kept him by her side for so many days, Qin Miaoyan was no true “good person.”

From his actions last night, she had deduced his innocence in worldly matters. Naturally, she intended to give things a little push so she could devour him sooner rather than later.

Patience was not her strong suit.

Thus, today’s meal consisted entirely of highly nourishing and heating ingredients. Nether Valley might lack many things, but aphrodisiacs were in abundant supply.

After all, the heretical cultivators and Demon clan in the valley were hardly the types to suppress their desires—each had their own unique indulgence techniques.

Of course, Qin Miaoyan could simply plant a Love Gu in Li Fuguang, ensuring he’d forget even his own parents and see only her in this world.

But that would strip away all the fun, leaving him as lifeless and unexciting as a Puppet.

Instead, she planned to slowly shape Li Fuguang into the image of her former lover. By working on both fronts, by the time this unripe fruit was fully matured, his outward “appearance” would perfectly match her preferences.

Surprisingly, because he had ruined her Cloud Silk, Qin Miaoyan neither scolded him nor beat him like the clan elders would have. This left Li Fuguang with a faint sense of guilt.

This manifested in him being far more obedient.

When Qin Miaoyan pretended her Heart Demon had resurfaced that morning, he became utterly compliant.

“No fidgeting. Be steady—he was steady. If you move around, you won’t resemble him.”

“Don’t smile. When you smile, you don’t look like him either.”

“These clothes are newly prepared for you, bought from outside the valley. They’re not made of any precious fabric, so wear them.”

Li Fuguang picked a black set—his usual color, practical for hiding dirt. Since childhood, he had been accustomed to running wild. Before mastering cultivation and the Cleansing spell, he had always ended up filthy.

Afraid of his mother’s scolding, he had always preferred wearing black.

But as soon as he picked it up, Qin Miaoyan leaned in and said, “Don’t wear black. He never wears black.”

Li Fuguang paused, turning his head to look at Qin Miaoyan with a stiff expression, not smiling.

Obediently, he took the aqua-blue robe beside him and put it on layer by layer. He also tied up his long hair, which had been loose for days, securing it simply with a matching ribbon at the crown of his head.

His hair was exceptionally fine, gathered at the top and cascading down past his waist, the strands thick and jet-black, like an inky waterfall, exuding vibrant vitality.

Once fully dressed, he turned to face Qin Miaoyan.

Still obediently keeping his expression rigid—no smile, no unnecessary movements.

This transformation struck right at Qin Miaoyan’s heart.

This was the aloof immortal lord she had fallen for at first sight, the dignified beauty.

His features were bold and exquisitely refined, with long, dark lashes and brows as if meticulously outlined and thickened by a fine brush.

Yet there was not a hint of softness or delicacy—his prominent Adam’s apple bobbed nervously as he swallowed, the perfect arc rolling up and down his throat, making Qin Miaoyan’s mouth go dry.

Qin Miaoyan had never liked how the sects in the Cultivation World favored white robes. She preferred bright, vivid colors, but now she couldn’t help but agree with the old saying:

To look striking, dress in mourning.

Just look at him—who could see past that handsome, solemn face to the foolish innocence beneath?

Her heart raced as she stepped forward, arms outstretched, embracing her meticulously groomed ideal lover.

Li Fuguang stood motionless, his Adam’s apple bobbing rapidly when Qin Miaoyan pressed against him.

His eyelids fluttered rapidly, his internal heat like boiling water, making it hard to endure.

He could eat—and he had eaten far too many rich, warming tonics. Just this morning, he had devoured an entire plate of Spirit Deer penis, stir-fried with greens. He hadn’t known what it was, only that it was delicious and chewy—seventeen whole pieces, from a third-tier Spirit Deer. How could he not be burning up?

Now his back was drenched in sweat, and Qin Miaoyan’s embrace made him want to leap out of his skin.

It was unbearably hot.

He wanted to push her away, because he had never been so acutely aware of her warmth, her softness, or the faint, elusive fragrance clinging to her.

Naturally, Qin Miaoyan noticed his discomfort—exactly as she had anticipated.

With just two words, she turned his resisting hands into an embrace.

“Brother…” she murmured affectionately.

Her face buried in his strong, broad chest, she grinned wickedly. Never had she thought the word “brother” could sound more intimate than “darling.”

Hearing this, Li Fuguang indeed raised his arms—originally meant to push her away—and instead wrapped them around her shoulders.

“Hmm,” he responded, thinking her Heart Demon had flared up, making her recall her brother. His voice was hoarse as he soothed her, “Brother’s here.”

But when he answered, Qin Miaoyan frowned.

“Don’t speak. The moment you open your mouth, you stop resembling him!”