Chapter 2: Little Treasure  

Li Fuguang had never experienced such a life-or-death moment in his entire life.  

Likewise, he had never been saved in such a manner.  

Today, the sunlight was scorching, and with the Spirit light shimmering around the newcomer, she seemed to descend from the heavens amidst a radiant glow.  

When she embraced him, a sweet fragrance filled his nostrils, and her soft body made Li Fuguang feel as if he were floating on clouds. For a moment, even the pain from his wounds seemed to vanish.  

He was lifted by arms so tender they felt unreal, accompanied by pure Spirit power, swiftly pulling him away from the Fissured Dark Abyss that devoured lives.  

He looked up and saw the most stunning face he had ever laid eyes on—like a crimson flower, like the blazing sun.  

In that instant, it shattered too many of his life’s firsts.  

He had never known that a Cultivator could be as bewitching as a Demon creature, yet the overwhelming Spirit stream surging around her, powerful enough to topple mountains and seas, inspired awe in his heart.  

Li Fuguang was only at the early stage of the Illusion Shattering Realm. Under Qin Miaoyan’s unrestrained Spirit pressure, his heart felt as if gripped by an invisible hand, making even breathing a struggle.  

But Qin Miaoyan showed no intention of holding back. She swiftly carried him away from the Fissured Dark Abyss and, with a flick of her hand, transformed Spirit light into blades that whizzed through the sky, slicing apart the net of Parasitic vines.  

Soon, the remnants of the vines scattered through the air like an overturned emerald sea.  

It was then that Qin Miaoyan set Li Fuguang down on the ground and met his half-conscious, stubbornly open eyes.  

He was looking at her—just as she had expected.  

After all, this earth-shattering, awe-inspiring entrance had been meticulously orchestrated by her.  

When it came to romance between men and women, there were only so many tried-and-true tactics.  

Usually, playing the damsel in distress seeking a man’s protection was the most effective—especially if the woman was beautiful. It effortlessly stirred a man’s desire to conquer, protect, and indulge his baser instincts. It was practically foolproof.  

But in this Secret Realm, suddenly appearing as a helpless woman would have been suspicious. There was no time to stage that act, so she had to improvise a “hero saves the beauty” scenario instead.  

What Qin Miaoyan hadn’t anticipated, however, was the man’s appearance.  

So similar.  

Truly similar.  

She hadn’t gone to such lengths in years. She had originally decided that even if this man bore only a slight resemblance to her former lover—just based on his tall, well-built frame—she would play with him for a while.  

But she never expected him to resemble her past lover by seven or eight parts out of ten.  

No, he was even more striking—his sword-like brows and starry eyes, his sharp features. Lying on the ground, he strained to swallow, gritting his teeth to stay conscious…  

Blood soaked his body, his long hair disheveled from the struggle. The dark strands, drenched in crimson, clung to his neck, his Adam’s apple bobbing slowly and laboriously.  

It should have been a pitiful sight, but his skin was so pale that the blood staining him created a sinful, corrupted beauty.  

Yet he didn’t appear effeminate—though his features were delicate, there wasn’t a trace of softness. His handsome, otherworldly face carried an air of unyielding fierceness.  

Qin Miaoyan couldn’t remember the last time she had encountered such a perfect little treasure.

Her gaze softened involuntarily as she looked at him. She reached out to tuck away the stray hair clinging to his neck and gently wiped the bloodstains from his skin.

Falling leaves filled the sky like a lush emerald rain, cascading over the two of them in a verdant downpour.

Qin Miaoyan’s fingers trailed from his neck to the side of his face, then she slowly curved her lips into a smile.

When she smiled, even the blazing sun paled in comparison, and the most vibrant flowers seemed to wither.

But before her smile could fully form, she channeled spirit power into her palm and knocked the person beneath her hand unconscious.

He was too stubborn. Despite his severe injuries and the deliberate spiritual pressure she had used to crush his soul, he still refused to close his eyes. If this continued, his very soul might become unstable.

She wanted him to look at her—to feel fear, shock, and awe, to have his blood surge uncontrollably for her. That was the simplest way to ensnare someone.

But she didn’t want him to stubbornly cling to consciousness.

If he didn’t pass out, if he wasn’t critically injured and on the brink of death, how could she justify taking him back to Avici Land?

Tsk.

Once he was unconscious, Qin Miaoyan dropped all pretense. The spiritual energy around her dissipated instantly as she pinched his cheek, pleased with her handiwork.

As the glow of her spiritual pressure faded, the three survivors who had narrowly escaped the Demon Vine’s grasp—those who hadn’t lost consciousness—approached Qin Miaoyan one by one and knelt before her.

In unison, they said, “Disciple greets Master!”

Qin Miaoyan, half-kneeling on the ground, withdrew her hand from the pleasantly firm cheek she had been touching and turned her attention to the three.

At the forefront stood a man clad in deep blue robes, his features coldly handsome—her eldest disciple, Qin Hongfei.

Behind him knelt a man and a woman. The man had refined, scholarly features, looking more like a scholar than a cultivator—her second disciple, Qin Wenyan. Beside him was a woman whose facial contours bore some resemblance to Qin Miaoyan, though unlike her master’s peach-blossom eyes, she had narrow, elongated ones—her third disciple, Qin Rong.

These three were the only survivors who had noticed the Parasitic Vines being controlled early and retreated to the edge of the formation, thus avoiding being dragged underground.

Qin Miaoyan smiled at them, the righteous gentleness she had shown Li Fuguang moments ago now replaced with a wicked playfulness.

“Kicking others into the boiling pot when danger strikes—truly, you are fine disciples of Avici Land,” she said.

“Go down and rescue them. By the end of today, those fools will be neatly laid out below,” Qin Miaoyan continued. “The barriers I set won’t hold much longer against the elders of the Immortal Alliance’s sects.”

“Once they arrive, the three of you will work together to save the disciples of the various sects. After today, your names will be known throughout the Cultivation World.”

Qin Miaoyan stood up and retrieved an irregular, glowing emerald object from her sleeve, tossing it directly to her youngest disciple, Qin Rong.

“Rongrong, this is for you to snack on. But remember—keep your demonic aura hidden. The Cultivation World won’t tolerate a demonic being playing the hero.”

“Thank you, Master!” Qin Rong beamed with joy. When she wasn’t smiling, she could pass for human—she had even pretended to be mute while blending into the group earlier. But now, as soon as she opened her mouth and grinned, the rows of jagged fangs lining her mouth became impossible to hide, a truly terrifying sight.

Satisfied, Qin Miaoyan dusted off her robes, then pulled out a mustard seed from her sleeve and stored the unconscious man inside the pocket dimension.

When she turned back, her three disciples were still staring at her—or rather, at her sleeve.

Especially her eldest disciple, Qin Hongfei. His gaze was sharp as a blade, filled with hostility. He had always been fiercely territorial, and now his eyes darkened as they lingered on Qin Miaoyan’s sleeve.

Qin Miaoyan paused slightly, looking at her three disciples as she said with a smile, “This is a little novelty I’ve just acquired. You’d better not ruin my fun.”

Though her tone carried a chilling undercurrent that sent a shiver down the spines of her three curious disciples.

In Avici Land, there was no such thing as ordinary master-disciple bonds. Strength dictated respect, and the only reason these three could stay in Nether Valley as her nominal disciples under her protection was simply to amuse her.

Thus, upon hearing her words, they immediately averted their eyes and lowered their heads in silent obedience.

“Make the most of this opportunity, little ones,” Qin Miaoyan continued. “With the gratitude of the sects for saving their disciples, it’ll be easier for you to switch to the righteous path in the future.”

With that, she vanished in a streak of white light, taking her newly acquired “little plaything” with her.

Only then did the three disciples raise their heads. Standing at the edge of the abyss, surrounded by the shattered remnants of parasitic vines devoid of life, they exchanged glances.

Qin Rong, satisfied with the demon core she had obtained, didn’t mind Qin Miaoyan’s new “toy.” But the other two disciples locked eyes, their expressions tinged with unease.

Qin Miaoyan’s interests were fleeting—quick to ignite, quick to fade.

They weren’t worried about the “new plaything” being toyed to death. What concerned them was what would happen to them—those who could no longer provide amusement—if this novelty lasted too long.

The warning was clear. Qin Miaoyan had taken countless disciples over the years, yet none of those who had come before them remained alive.

But worry was futile. So they followed the path Qin Miaoyan had paved in her whims, descending into the dark abyss to retrieve the stranded disciples.

As Qin Miaoyan had predicted, by the time the Immortal Alliance elders broke through the Secret Realm’s barriers, she had already returned to Avici Land.

She released the “little plaything,” casting a cleansing spell to rid him of the blood and grime, even dressing him in fresh white robes before placing him on her bed.

Stepping outside, she instructed the maids in the courtyard to keep their mouths shut.

She had fed him a top-grade life-sustaining pill but deliberately withheld further treatment.

What better way to nurture affection than through prolonged convalescence?

There was no rush.

After settling him in, she made her way to the spirit pool near her residence.

In her own domain, Qin Miaoyan dressed casually. The jade-paved floors, kept spotless by arrays, and the intricately carved beams gave the place a lavish, treasure-house feel rather than an immortal’s abode.

Spirit tools served as lampshades, spirit stones paved the walkways, and she possessed three actual treasuries, along with a high-grade White Spirit Mine and a spirit vein yielding hundreds of mid-grade yellow spirit stones annually.

Barefoot, she stepped onto the ground and sat by the spirit pool, the calm water rippling at her presence.

Moments later, a slender serpentine tail emerged from the water, coiling around Qin Miaoyan’s ankle.

She held a wine cup she had taken from the small table beside the stone steps, tilting her head back to drink a priceless Spirit Brew, while the serpent tail sneaking up her trouser leg tickled her.  

With a soft laugh, she grabbed the tail tip that had slithered up to her knee.  

Then, a string of bubbles surfaced from the water, and a figure emerged from the depths, breaking through the surface.  

His skin was deathly pale and cold, his hair fine and soft like waterweed, the same dark red as his serpent tail.  

The crimson hue dripped with water as he rose from the pool, droplets falling like rolling blood.  

Soon, his true form was revealed—a face so exquisitely androgynous it was breathtaking, yet undeniably dangerous, carrying an eerie, inhuman malice.  

He stood upright in the water, the clear Spirit Spring revealing his lower half—a vividly patterned red-and-black serpent tail, coiled beneath the surface, easily several zhang long.  

He rose higher and higher until he was level with Qin Miaoyan, then abruptly leaned in. The dripping water splashed onto her as his face came within a finger’s breadth of hers.  

His icy breath brushed her skin as he braced his arms on the stone steps where she sat, pressing forward. Qin Miaoyan leaned back slightly.  

“You’re getting me all wet,” she said with amusement.  

The tail coiled around her knee twisted powerfully, slipping from her grasp, but before it could slither further, she caught it again.  

Yet he pressed closer, nearly draping himself over her, tilting his head to brush his cold lips against hers.  

Even as he did this, his expression remained blank, only his vertical pupils contracting slightly, as if narrowing his eyes.  

This was the little pet Qin Miaoyan had recently acquired from the Demon pet market. Enchanted by his striking patterns, she had named him Qin He.  

Qin Miaoyan gazed at the half-human, half-serpent with a smile. “Be good. I’m not playing with you today.”  

“In fact, I won’t be playing with you for a while. Go find somewhere else to amuse yourself.”  

Qin He tilted his head slightly, as if confused, then swiftly flicked out his slender forked tongue, licking the side of her neck.  

His tongue could sense emotions, helping him discern whether Qin Miaoyan truly wanted him to leave or was planning to give him away.  

“Stop that,” Qin Miaoyan chided, fishing a pill from her sleeve and pressing it to his lips. “A Transformation pill. It’ll last a few months.”  

“Didn’t you always want legs? Didn’t you keep thinking about that little widow who set you free when you nearly ended up in snake stew?” she teased. “She’s an old widow now, on the verge of death. Go see her.”  

Qin He’s pupils instantly narrowed into thin slits. He swallowed the pill in one gulp, even taking her fingers into his mouth.  

His tongue coiled around her fingertips, just as his tail often wrapped around her ankle, sensing her emotions—confirming she was serious.  

Overcome with joy, he thrashed in the water, sending a shimmering curtain of droplets into the air.  

“Fool,” Qin Miaoyan muttered, though her expression remained fond.  

Qin He quickly returned, slithering onto her, his tail slipping beneath her skirt once more.  

Though the pill had granted him human form, his intelligence remained limited—unable to speak or properly articulate thoughts. He knew only one way to please Qin Miaoyan.  

Pressing her shoulders down, he mimicked the actions she usually enjoyed.

Qin Miaoyan was indeed a bit distracted; she still quite liked this little snake, after all, she had only just acquired it.  

But soon, her languid, slightly flushed expression suddenly sharpened as she sensed someone approaching. The only person in her courtyard who would dare move around so freely was someone who should have been unconscious right now.  

And they were about to round the corner any moment!  

So Qin Miaoyan immediately straightened up and pushed Qin He away—but he had already slipped inside her. She raised her leg and kicked him away with a single forceful motion.  

With a loud *splash*, a curtain of water erupted, drenching everything in sight.  

Qin He, sensing Qin Miaoyan’s anger, sank to the bottom of the pool, not daring to resurface.  

Just then, Li Fuguang—who had woken up in an unfamiliar palace hall and stumbled his way here—pressed a hand to his chest as he turned the corner, following the sound of water.  

What he saw was a woman bathing naked in the pool, her long hair cascading luxuriously across the water’s surface. The alluring curves of her body shimmered faintly beneath the rippling water, an intoxicating sight.  

Hearing the noise, the woman turned and said with a smile, “Xiao Chun? Did you bring my clothes—”  

“Ah!” She gasped lightly, quickly crossing her arms and sinking deeper into the water, leaving only a pair of strikingly beautiful peach-blossom eyes wide open as she stared in his direction.  

Li Fuguang stood frozen in place.