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Qingli paid no heed to his threats and walked calmly toward Nangong Yan.
Her tone was gentle, “Without me, your legs will remain the same. What’s more, the poison in your body will continue to spread—first to your upper limbs, then eventually your entire body. Even if you had the most skilled physicians treating you, you wouldn’t live past the age of thirty.”
“But if I treat you now, you’ll be just like any normal person. Living to seventy or eighty won’t be a problem. With such a good deal, you’d be a fool not to take it.”
Nangong Yan suddenly realized that his entire body felt weak—he couldn’t muster any strength, and his martial skills were completely useless. Humiliation and fury surged within him.
“You drugged me?” he growled.
His cold, piercing eyes shot daggers at Qingli as he demanded an answer.
Qingli nodded without the slightest attempt to hide it.
“Mm-hmm. If I hadn’t, how would I get you to behave?”
Nangong Yan’s face turned ashen, and his cold, menacing gaze fixed on Qingli as he threatened, “Now! Immediately! Let me go, and I might spare your life.”
Qingli ignored his threat and continued walking toward him. In just two steps, she reached him and effortlessly lifted him, carrying him toward the blanket she had laid out.
Nangong Yan was stunned! His pupils widened in disbelief.
A mere woman, yet she could lift him so easily?
Was he hallucinating?
With a thud, Nangong Yan was thrown onto the blanket. His face twisted with fury, his body emanating cold air as if he wanted to freeze her to death.
“I warn you! If you dare make a move, I’ll have your whole family pay with their lives!”
Nangong Yan’s threats held no weight in Qingli’s eyes; she was utterly unconcerned.
She removed her outer garment, a faint blush creeping onto her cheeks, her heart thudding with nervousness.
Luckily, the medicine in her body was kicking in, giving her the courage she needed.
Meanwhile, Nangong Yan’s body was undergoing some changes.
Qingli didn’t rush into anything rash. She knew she had to treat him first.
Seizing the moment when he wasn’t paying attention, she quickly pressed a pressure point on him, ensuring he would remain docile.
With his limbs rendered immobile, Nangong Yan grew increasingly anxious and enraged. For the first time, a deep unease settled in his chest.
Even when he had broken his legs back then, he hadn’t felt this kind of fear. But now, this woman had him completely rattled.
Qingli pulled out a set of silver needles and lifted the hem of Nangong Yan’s trousers, carefully inserting a needle into his leg.
Then she took out a yellow talisman paper, along with cinnabar ink and a brush made of wolf hair, and began to draw a charm.
Her actions left Nangong Yan utterly bewildered. Everything she was doing looked more like the work of a street-side mystic than a physician.
Qingli drew the charm slowly, every stroke deliberate and laborious, as if each line required immense effort. Beads of sweat formed on her smooth forehead, and her expression remained focused and grave.
Meanwhile, a heat surged through Nangong Yan’s body, that strange and indescribable sensation making his face flush red. A mixture of embarrassment and fury swirled inside him.
After a long while, Qingli finally completed the charm. She set aside the brush and cinnabar, placed the finished talisman in front of her, then brought her palms together. Her index and ring fingers intertwined and began to move in rapid, intricate patterns.
In the next instant, a flicker of flame-like energy danced from her fingertips, merging into the yellow talisman paper before vanishing without a trace.
Nangong Yan’s eyes widened in shock—was he seeing things?
Finger-ignited flame?
That was no ordinary trick. No, that wasn’t something any ordinary person should be able to do.
Even with her face partially hidden behind a veil, Qingli’s elegance was impossible to conceal. Her eyes alone were breathtaking—otherworldly in their beauty. Nangong Yan couldn’t help but question: Was this woman truly human? Or something else entirely? Though tales of demons and spirits were just legends, who could say they didn’t exist in the real world?
The more he thought, the further his imagination spiraled.
Meanwhile, Qingli, having finished drawing the charm, took it in hand and approached Nangong Yan. Holding the talisman up, she released it into the air—yet instead of falling, the flimsy paper simply floated midair.
Nangong Yan’s astonishment deepened. By now, he was almost convinced: he had indeed encountered a supernatural being.
Focused on her task, Qingli didn’t notice his increasingly wary gaze. Her hands came together once again, and she began murmuring something under her breath—too fast, too soft for Nangong Yan to make out.
In the next moment, the yellow talisman dissolved into a warm golden glow that flowed directly into his legs. Then, it too disappeared into thin air.
Having completed the ritual, Qingli finally spoke.
She said, “Your legs weren’t just poisoned—they were cursed. If it were only poison, any skilled physician could have treated it. But a curse… that takes a specialist. I happen to be one. Your legs will recover very soon. By dawn tomorrow, you’ll be able to walk again. Your muscles are well-maintained and haven’t atrophied. With my acupuncture, you’ll regain your movement by morning. When you wake up, you can walk back on your own.”
Then, she pulled out another talisman and set it on a nearby rock.
“This is a protection charm—one of my finest. I’m giving it to you. When you leave tomorrow, take it with you. In a critical moment, it could save your life.”
Having said all this, Qingli began removing his clothes. The medicine in her system had reached its peak, making her bolder than usual.
As she undressed, she said calmly, “This is your reward. You helped me neutralize the effects of the drug—an accomplishment in itself. What I’m offering you now is my way of returning the favor. If there’s anything else you want, feel free to ask. As long as it’s not too unreasonable, I might agree.”
As she spoke, the man’s outer robe had already been removed. His face darkened to a stormy gray, yet the tips of his ears were unmistakably flushed red. He wanted to curse her, to lash out, but the breath caught in his chest refused to rise—no sound escaped his lips.
Qingli, noticing his silence, cast a puzzled glance his way. Seeing the fury in his eyes—the indignation, the desperate urge to speak—she suddenly remembered.
“Oh… I think I might’ve sealed your voice acupoint earlier,” she said, offering a sheepish smile. “My bad.” With that, she quickly pressed a few points on his body to undo the silencing technique. “There you go. You can talk now. If you’ve got no other requests, let’s call it even.”
Nangong Yan was still struggling in vain. “You can’t touch me. I don’t consent to this.”
Qingli ignored him and continued undressing him. By now, the medicinal effects in both of them had reached their peak.
Her face was flushed deep red, though the veil concealed it. What couldn’t be hidden, however, were her eyes—misty, shimmering with moisture, their seductive gleam utterly irresistible.
Nangong Yan’s body was also reacting strongly, though he stubbornly resisted. But when his gaze met those mesmerizing, water-laced eyes, his last line of defense crumbled. His eyes turned bloodshot, and desire surged through every fiber of his being.
Qingli released the final acupoint restraining him, and then her crimson lips found his. The veil slipped from her face. At that same moment, the candle beside them flickered out, plunging the cave into complete darkness.
In the pitch-black silence, Nangong Yan could hold back no longer. With a fierce, dominant motion, he reversed their positions and pinned her beneath him.