He had never imagined that the clichéd “dual cultivation” plot from those storybooks would descend upon him in such a violent manner.
As the pain gradually transformed into a scorching wave, Qing Feng’s remaining consciousness still struggled to deduce: Yun Qingrao’s Mysterious Yin Art should have been pure and untainted, so how could she have suffered a cultivation deviation to this extent?
Even if he could dispel her malevolent aura at this moment, once she awoke, recalling the common “settling scores later” trope in certain storybooks, cold sweat seeped from Qing Feng’s back. Yet, he ultimately couldn't resist the unfamiliar tremor sweeping through his entire body.
In the tomb chamber’s faint blue glow, Qing Feng stared blankly at the undulating lines on the murals.
The warmth of Yun Qingrao’s skin lingered on his fingertips. The Dragon race female, who had been out of control moments ago, was now curled up on the jade platform, white scales spreading and growing along her spine.
He caressed the broken blade at his waist; a bone-chilling coldness emanated from the bronze sword hilt.
If he cut the chains now, he might be able to retreat unscathed.
The dome suddenly gleamed with scattered golden light, as if someone were writing with starlight.
He deciphered the flowing inscriptions word by word: “Chaos first splits into two poles, Yin soul and Yang spirit unite the dao. A spiritual platform jointly built for eternal life, only then can one roam freely among the clouds and rainbows…”
This was clearly a secret art for cultivating both Yin and Yang!
Qing Feng’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he took half a step back, his back hitting a stone pillar covered with coitus totems.
If the Beast Taming Sect’s heritage was a solitary pine on a snowy peak, this cultivation method was a vine-entangled abyss, yet every node of its meridian circulation secretly conformed to the celestial dao.
He suddenly recalled Ao Pan’s meaningful smile as he left. When that old Dragon race male said there was a fifty-fifty chance of breakthrough or downfall, his Dragon race claws clearly tapped the nuptial wine cup seven times.
As the last line of golden script melted into the shadows, the tomb wall rumbled. Two lines of crimson blood characters seeped from the stone cracks: “If Dragon race scales cover the body, quickly use the Profound Essence Heart Scripture to resolve its bestial nature. Forty percent chance of death, sixty percent chance of embracing the beauty. Ao Pan left this message.”
“Senior is truly considerate,” Qing Feng sneered, the sword qi in his palm sending the pearls scattered on the ground rolling wildly.
A sound like tearing silk suddenly came from the jade platform. A three-foot Dragon race tail had already grown from Yun Qingrao’s coccyx, and the black iron chains tightened inch by inch.
He looked at that face, half in pain and half enchanting, and finally understood that the “bestial nature” Ao Pan spoke of was not just murderous intent, but also the instinct for procreation etched into the bloodline.
From the depths of the Cold Pond, the old Dragon race male’s teasing voice transmission came: “Young man, the Dragon race doesn’t have the option of ‘reasoning’ when seeking a mate.”
When Qing Feng swung his sword, severing the last chain, he finally gritted his teeth and said to the void, “Once I break through to the Void Glimpse realm, I will definitely go to the East Sea and dismantle your Water Repelling Golden Crystal Palace.”
The moment his fingertips embedded into the edge of the ice coffin, Qing Feng suddenly realized this was a wrong decision.
The sleeping female in the coffin had frost flowers condensed on her eyelashes. Moonlight spilled onto her face through a crack in the tomb ceiling, making even the thousand-year-old profound ice seem like a mere set off.
His Adam’s apple bobbed, bringing up a bloody taste. By the time he reacted, his lips and teeth had already collided with her jade-like skin.
A stinging sensation burst from the tip of his tongue, but it unexpectedly activated an ancient contract. Ice-blue spiritual patterns spread wildly along their clasped fingers.
“This is… a Twin Life Contract?” His remaining rationality was washed away by the surging torrent of spiritual power. In the depths of his Sea of Consciousness, a Dragon race roar suddenly erupted, intertwining with the awakening Phoenix’s clear cry from the ice coffin, forming a vortex.
Seven days later, the surface of the ice coffin showed its first crack.
“Would Fellow Daoist like some spiritual dew?” Qing Feng asked hoarsely, gently tapping the coffin lid. The black iron chains rattled with his movement.
On the ninth day, ice cracks covered the entire dome of the tomb chamber.
“I still have three thousand-year-old snow ginsengs in my storage bag,” his voice trailed off, disappearing into the suddenly tightening cold silk, as ice-blue spiritual patterns branded new marks on his neck.
On the fifteenth day, a certain cultivator attempting to escape underground was dragged back to the ice coffin by his ankles, his desperate cries echoing between the mountain walls: “The Dragon race dual cultivation secret manual is a lie! It promised spiritual power mutual replenishment!”
When Qing Feng regained consciousness, he was facing the newly carved timer array in the ice coffin, with three hundred and sixty marks glowing with a faint blue light.
He stared at the phoenix tattoo that hadn't faded from his fingertips and suddenly laughed aloud: “So the ancient records were wrong; the Ice Phoenix bloodline’s spiritual power circulation needs to run in reverse.”
Before his words finished, the ice coffin slammed shut. A faint light shone from a communication jade slip at a certain cultivator’s waist: Congratulations, Host, on achieving the first stage of the Nine Revolutions Ice Phoenix Art. Reward: one Dragon Marrow Bone Forging Pill. Recommended immediate consumption.
After the mysterious state of bloodline resonance dissipated, only Yun Qingrao remained to refine the power of the Ying Long bloodline. As the vast Dragon race essence surged and flowed within her body, the situation gradually spiraled out of control.
Reality cruelly confirmed that a mortal body was ultimately unable to bear the original power of the Dragon race. At this moment, Qing Feng secretly rejoiced that he had previously summoned the Pure Yang Immortal Venerable with a celestial dao crystal for protection, otherwise, he might have already perished in both body and spirit. He suddenly recalled the rumored Legend of the White Snake—how did that scholar named Xu endure the primordial Yin of a thousand-year-old snake demon?
One must know that although Yun Qingrao had not reached the demon Immortal Maiden realm, the tyrannical nature of the Ying Long bloodline was several times stronger than that of ordinary snakes.
Amidst his chaotic thoughts, Qing Feng felt the burning pain emanating from his limbs and bones, and couldn't help but smile bitterly at the void.
If he had known earlier that the so-called mission to save the world would put him in such peril, and that he would face Yun Qingrao’s thunderous wrath upon her awakening, perhaps he would have…
A sudden soft warmth in his arms interrupted his regret.
The sleeping Yun Qingrao seemed to sense something, unconsciously pressing against his neck. Her skin, like fine mutton-fat jade, glowed with a faint red blush, completely unlike her usual cold and aloof demeanor.
Long eyelashes cast shadows on her eyelids, and her lips still held a hint of the rosy blush of a blooming crabapple. At this moment, she had shed all her defenses, revealing a touch of endearing childishness.
Qing Feng gazed at this peerless face, which he had seen day and night for over a month, and suddenly felt the residual Dragon race essence in his dantian begin to stir again.
His slender fingers unconsciously caressed the profound ice silk sash at the waist of the person in his arms, secretly cursing himself for ultimately being unable to escape his carnal nature.
If time were to flow backward… he would likely still make the same choice.
Just as he was inexplicably lowering his head to touch those crimson lips, a chilling frost suddenly permeated the cave dwelling.
The moment he looked up, he met a pair of glazed pupils, Condensation with ten thousand years of profound ice.
The Immortal Maiden, who had been docilely curled up moments ago, had already awakened. The three-petal golden lotus mark between her brows glowed brightly, and her delicate hand clasped his vital acupoint. The surging killing intent around her twisted the scattered clothes and scraps of cloth on the ground into dust.
Their bodies remained intimately intertwined, yet Qing Feng felt a suffocating sensation of impending death surging from the depths of his consciousness.
The starlight in Yun Qingrao’s eyes flickered. Her slender fingers pushed against the green jade bed, and she slowly straightened up. Lingering mist flowed around her body like a veil, with only her frost-white feet still hanging outside the cloud veil.
As the plain gauze dress, flying out from her storage bag, covered her icy skin, it brought with it a clear scent of pine.
Qing Feng watched the suddenly dissipated enchanting scene, a hint of regret flashing in his eyes. He casually summoned a black combat suit and put it on.
Fully dressed, Yun Qingrao had shed the gentle demeanor she had shown when they first met on the deserted island, and she did not continue her previous icy coldness. As if nothing had happened, she closed her eyes to regulate her breathing, surrounded by unstable True Essence fluctuations.
The sudden surge of profound spiritual power in his Sea of Consciousness caused Qing Feng’s pupils to contract slightly.
Upon internal inspection, the surging Ying Long bloodline in his meridians had pushed his cultivation directly to the Spirit Transformation third stage, and even retained a vast, unrefined residual power.