Every disciple chosen by a master bore a unique emblem, and at this moment, Elder Mei Lian—known throughout the sect as Fairy Mei Lian—sat in her private residence with one such emblem resting in her grasp.
She never thought the day would come when she would hand it over, much less to a man. In her mind, if she were ever forced by the sect master's pressure to take a disciple, it would be someone with dazzling potential, someone worthy of her name.
But now everything had shifted, because Jian had appeared at her doors holding her acceptance talisman. That talisman left her no choice—he was already her disciple, bound by the sect's rules.
Her fingers tightened around the emblem, and bitterness welled inside. That damn bitch… she cursed inwardly, thinking of the one who had sold the talisman in the first place. That woman was likely enjoying a life of luxury somewhere, leaving Mei Lian to bear the consequences.
Selling an acceptance talisman was never forbidden, but anyone who sold theirs had to take responsibility for whoever claimed it. And responsibility was the one thing Mei Lian despised.
"Let's get this over with," she muttered coldly, rising from her chair.
---
Meanwhile, Jian sat cross-legged within his chamber. The cultivation array around him hummed faintly, drawing spiritual energy into the room. Streams of qi condensed into the stone slab beneath him, gathering at a single point for the cultivator to purify and absorb. The formation made the process efficient, but the real burden still rested on his body and will.
Jian had long finished combing through the inherited memories of this body, and now, every spare moment was bent toward growth. His breathing was steady, his body taut as he refined every thread of qi that entered his meridians.
Hours passed before his eyes opened. A faint gleam flickered within them. His aura had shifted—stronger, firmer. He had broken through again, stepping into the eighth stage of the Flesh Strengthening Realm.
It was not an extraordinary feat. The early stages of cultivation were rarely difficult for someone with discipline and a steady supply of qi. But Jian knew better than to be careless. Progression at such speed was dangerous.
Breakthroughs stacked too quickly could shatter a foundation rather than build it. The body might seem invincible in its rise, but cracks would form, and one day, those cracks would demand a price.
He exhaled slowly, suppressing the urge to press further. "Enough," he murmured, voice calm but resolute. "Strength built in haste will always fail."
Walking out of the cultivation chamber, Jian's gaze landed on Maria, who sat slouched at the table like a weary receptionist long abandoned by customers. Her chin rested in her palm, eyes half-lidded with boredom.
From the scattered arrangement of neatly stacked scrolls and a polished tea cup already drained twice over, it was clear she had redone her small tasks more than once, just to pass the time.
"Someone seems out of place," Jian said casually, his voice breaking the stillness.
Maria jerked slightly, blinking herself awake. "Oh—you're done?" Her brow furrowed, confusion written on her face as her eyes trailed over him.
Jian's lips tugged faintly at the corner. He could imagine why she looked that way—his skin bore patches of dried, greenish-black gunk, the sticky residue of impurities forced out during cultivation.
"Yes, I am," Jian replied simply. His tone carried a calm finality. "I'll be with you shortly. Let me get rid of these impurities first."
Without waiting for a response, he made his way toward the bathing area.
Inside, he stripped down and stepped into the shallow stone basin, already filled with fresh water.
As soon as the impurities touched the surface, they dissolved into murky streams, sliding down his body in dark rivulets. The sensation was strangely satisfying.
Jian scrubbed the last of the residue from his arms and let the cool water wash over him. It felt refreshing, grounding—like every trace of weakness had been rinsed away.
When he finally emerged, dressed in fresh robes, his gaze drifted to the table. He pointed at the parchment resting there.
"That is for you," Jian said, his tone calm yet deliberate. "Memorize it."
Maria tilted her head, curiosity flickering in her eyes. "What is this?"
"It's a cultivation technique," Jian replied. "One tailored to your physique. I want you to master every character, word for word. But…" His lips curved faintly as he stepped toward her. "…before that, let's deal with the loneliness that you have been dealing with for a while now."
He reached across the counter, fingers lightly tilting her chin upward. His lips descended upon hers with quiet certainty.
As if she had been waiting for it, Maria melted into him. Her body moved instinctively, climbing onto the table with a sudden urgency, their lips never parting.
She leaned forward on all fours, her weight braced against the polished wood, but her entire focus tethered to the kiss.
Jian felt the hunger in her touch, the way her movements betrayed not just longing but something deeper—a spark from her physique reacting having been exposed to Yang qi from previous sessions with jian.
Her kiss grew fiercer, and she hooked her arms around his neck, pulling him into her rhythm as their tongues tangled with reckless passion.
A heartbeat later she leapt onto him like a wild monkey , her legs locking tightly around his waist. Her lips brushed his ear, and her whisper came low, sultry, almost foreign to her usual voice.
"Jian… I really want you now."
There was something strange in it—too sharp, too demanding.
Jian drew back just slightly, his sharp gaze locking onto hers. In that instant, he saw it: her irises shifting. One eye shone with the calm blue of an endless ocean, while the other burned with a crimson tint that glowed unnaturally at the pupil.
He smiled
Now… there was no mistaking it her physique was truly the Ice burning Yin Yang physique.