---o---
Jingliu's white dress was half-untied, and the ice sword in her hand was held askew. Her long, snow-white legs were faintly visible beneath the hem of her pristine skirt.
Yet the female sword saint's expression remained noble and cold, her moon-white hair cascading artfully down her back.
Faced with Ye Feng's question, Jingliu betrayed no emotion, her face a mask of indifference.
It was as if she paid it no mind at all.
"You don't actually think that by 'not being moved by your state of mind,' the Mara-Struck state can't do anything to you, do you? Well, alright, it does seem to be the case. The Mara-Struck state can influence you, but it can't control you. Ai, but I already told you, I'm not some illusion created by your Mara-Struck state."
In the face of Ye Feng's words, Jingliu focused her mind and calmed her breath, maintaining her inner balance, completely unmoved.
She treated him as nothing more than an inner demon, tempting her toward complete depravity.
If he truly were an inner demon born from within, he would indeed be unable to shake Jingliu's state of mind.
"Forget it. You can stay silent now, but don't beg for mercy later."
Ye Feng carried Jingliu to the large bed, which was draped with the pink gauze canopy.
Although it was night, the room was brilliantly lit. Amidst the peach-hued decor, the female sword saint in her white dress was like a half-opened lotus blossom, serene and pure, a perfect fusion of cold purity and alluring charm in a single body.
Her flawless skin was like the finest suet jade, tender and smooth, as if it would break at the slightest touch.
Her fair neck, as graceful and straight as a swan's; her perfectly rounded, slender shoulders; her willow-like waist that one could encircle with a single hand; her long, elegant, snow-white legs—there was truly not a single part of her that wasn't beautiful.
"She's gorgeous, but just too cold."
This wasn't a comment on her personality, but her body.
Perhaps because of the Mara-Struck state, or perhaps her natural constitution, Jingliu's body was as cold as the winter moon.
"Let me give you some warmth."
Ye Feng opened his palm, and a crimson jade bead appeared. It was the size of a pigeon's egg, crystal clear, with what looked like flames flowing within, radiating a gentle warmth.
"See? With this, I should be able to warm your body up a bit, right?"
Ye Feng smiled. The fingers holding the crimson flame-jade traced a line down Jingliu's elegant spine, down to her tailbone, and then lower.
Then, he pressed it inward.
"Mm, this size is about right."
"!!?"
This development was beyond anything she could have imagined. Jingliu's body stiffened, and she whipped her head around.
She saw another and another warm, crimson jade bead appear in his hand. The crimson beads were arranged tightly together, forming a straight line...
It looked exactly like a stick of bingtanghulu.
When Jingliu was a child practicing the sword, her life was one of grueling hardship. To be able to eat a single bite of one was pure bliss.
"Heh, you're right, it really does look like bingtanghulu. Shizun, your dear disciple invites you to eat some bingtanghulu."
"???"
Immediately after, Jingliu felt a scorching heat drill into her.
The process of it entering lasted a full five minutes.
Jingliu lay prone, biting down hard.
She was completely stunned.
She had never experienced such a... spiritual attack.
It was so shocking it nearly tainted her sword-heart.
After a moment of shock, Jingliu bit her lip, glaring at Ye Feng with shame and indignation.
Old Ye found her crimson-flushed face utterly adorable. This ethereal, noble, and aloof former Sword Champion of the Xianzhou could actually make such an expression.
The contrast with her status was the easiest way to provoke a certain kind of pleasure.
And so, Ye Feng pulled the bingtanghulu out again. It was truly a scene of large and small pearls falling onto a jade plate.
Jingliu could finally no longer suppress it and let out a muffled groan.
She threw her head back, the curve of her chin and neck forming a single, straight line.
Then, he slowly fed the bingtanghulu back to Jingliu.
Once that breath she had been holding so tightly was released, it was impossible to regain her composure.
Jingliu's fists were clenched so tightly her knuckles turned white, and she bit down hard on a lock of her own hair.
But from her nostrils, sounds still drifted out.
Like the intermittent sounds in the night, like rain dripping from the eaves, tinkling down, crisp and pleasant to the ear.
---o---
On an unknown planet somewhere in the universe.
This place was in a state of perpetual "night," with the "sun" visible only for extremely brief periods.
In the dim darkness, a single cool, ice-crystal candle burned. It wasn't a real fire, but a light condensed from pure energy.
It simply floated in the middle of a cave, casting its cool light across the dark, textured stone walls.
The slender figure of a woman sat cross-legged here.
She wore no makeup, her presence as cold and sharp as a sword.
The cerulean battle armor on her body gradually blurred, replaced by a flowing white dress, as pure and beautiful as a fairy's.
The waistline of this swordswoman's attire was high, not only making her already ample bosom appear even fuller but also accentuating the curve of her slender waist and perky hips to an exquisite degree.
A waterfall of fine hair cascaded down her graceful back, falling gently behind her hips.
Jingliu's beautiful brows knitted together.
The bead-like scorching heat brought on by the "Mara-Struck state" had followed her to her real body.
Jingliu didn't need to open her eyes to perceive the changes in herself.
"Why have even my clothes changed... Could it be true, as he said in the illusion, that it can affect reality?"
Jingliu's brows furrowed tightly.
Due to the influence of her Mara-Struck state, she would sometimes fall into a frenzy, shutting down her senses and seeing herself as nothing more than a sword that could shatter all obstacles.
Although Jingliu had long since surpassed her own limits and now walked the very edge of the Mara-Struck state, when it acted up, she would still be consumed by a burning hatred, desperately chasing the grudges of the past.
But it had never been like these past two days... so absurd.
Jingliu stood up, her long white dress trailing on the floor.
She felt the strange, scorching heat in her body and looked down at her different clothes, her heart filled with confusion.
In all the records of the Xianzhou, there was no mention of the Mara-Struck state causing such a change...
There were very few on the Xianzhou who could withstand the Mara-Struck state.
Such cases would not have been recorded.
Take Jingliu herself, for example. Her name had already been erased, and she had become a traitor to the Xianzhou, one who walked the brink of the Mara-Struck abyss.
However... although the attacks these last two days had been absurd, she hadn't fallen into a frenzy.
Jingliu shook her head and walked out of the cave dwelling.
The night wind lifted the hem of her skirt, revealing her fair calves. They were covered in a layer of faint, sheer silk stockings, which tinted her pale, tender flesh the color of the moon.
The coolness could not dispel the very real scorching heat she felt.
Moreover, as she walked just now, there seemed to be a feeling of blockage, making movement quite inconvenient.
The bingtanghulu... it couldn't have been brought into reality as well, could it?
A faint blush appeared on Jingliu's face as she reached a hand toward that place.
She froze.
Like a cold spring's frozen, muted strings, the song for a moment ceases.
What was even more difficult for Jingliu to accept was that she couldn't take it out.
Shame, anger, all sorts of emotions welled up inside her.
"Mara-Struck state... Ye Feng!"
Jingliu could no longer maintain her composure.
The black cloth covering her eyes slipped off, revealing pupils that shone with a soul-seizing, scarlet light.