On this day, not only did Sword Douluo stay home, but Fu Ye and Ah Yin also didn't step out.
Fu Ye, who had remained a virgin for nearly eighteen years, finally offered himself to the one he called "Grass." As awkward as that might've sounded, it was true—and he could only gasp with satisfaction afterward, "Great~~"
As evening approached, their entangled breaths still lingered in the air. Ah Yin lay limp in Fu Ye's arms, her delicate face flushed with warmth and pleasure. Her normally serene expression was now tinted with the softness and vulnerability of womanhood fully awakened.
She didn't fully understand human intimacy—at least not until today. But Fu Ye's scent pulled her in, intoxicating and primal, with strength that made her feel safe, cherished, and desired. He was powerful, magnetic, and handsome beyond words. She had no resistance to him, nor did she wish to have any.
Their union had not been quick. It had been long, slow, consuming—like fire blooming over her skin. She remembered how his lips had first brushed her collarbone, hesitant at first, but then emboldened by her soft moans and encouraging touch. His fingers traced down her sides like poetry made flesh, every moment burning away her doubts, every kiss branding her with a new kind of pleasure.
She'd gasped when he entered her—pain and heat intermingled as her soul shuddered at the connection. But Fu Ye was patient. Gentle. His hips rolled with slow intensity, learning her rhythms, coaxing her into wave after wave of bliss.
It didn't take long before her moans filled the room, no longer shy, but hungry. Her fingernails dug into his back. Her legs wrapped around him, anchoring him deep inside. And when they finally reached the crest together—trembling, breathless—it felt like something inside her had bloomed, untethered and free.
Late into the night, she curled in Fu Ye's arms, breath steady and eyes closed in contentment. She looked like she belonged there—against his chest, lips slightly parted, her cheeks glowing faintly even in sleep.
The bond was complete.
[Congratulations to the host for successfully obtaining Ah Yin's 100% favorability. Favorability has been automatically locked.]
Another morning arrived, and Fu Ye finally understood what it meant to not want to leave the bed after a night with a goddess. With the soft fragrance of Ah Yin still in his arms, he had no motivation to do anything else.
Still, he sighed, sat up, and pulled open the system shop.
[Product: Yin-Yang Fortune Grass, stock: 99999 (upgrades martial spirit by one level, no future bottlenecks). Free]
[Product: God-level Kidney Treasure, stock: 999999 (enhances vitality and may increase size slightly. No side effects). Free]
[Product: Ninety-nine-level Extreme Douluo Puppet, stock: 99999 (100% obedient, can hide in shadows). Free]
Fu Ye's lips curled into a smirk. The God-level Kidney Treasure, huh? That explained last night's stamina. Not that he needed help—but a little extra never hurt.
Without hesitation, he clicked purchase.
[Congratulations to the host for purchasing a God-level Kidney Treasure ×1]
"Bottoms up," he muttered and drank it in one go.
His veins surged with strength again, but looking at Ah Yin still peacefully asleep—her legs tangled in the sheets, soft body still flushed from last night—he figured she needed more time before another round.
After dressing, he turned to the puppet option.
[Congratulations to the host for purchasing a Level 99 Extreme Douluo puppet ×1]
A moment later, with a metallic clang, a black-armored figure appeared and immediately knelt.
"Master!"
The voice was hollow, mechanical—but obedient.
"Protect the Blue Silver Emperor Ah Yin. Do not let any harm come to her."
Without a word, the armored puppet sank into her shadow, vanishing from view. Even with his own spiritual senses, Fu Ye couldn't detect it now, save for the beacon in the system interface.
Still, it wasn't enough.
[Congratulations to the host for purchasing ninety-nine-level Extreme Douluo puppet ×9]
With that, nine identical black-armored figures knelt before him in a perfect line.
"Master!"
"Master!"
"Master!"
"You will all guard Ah Yin's shadow. No one touches her."
"Yes, Master!"
All nine figures vanished into her shadow like smoke, leaving Fu Ye feeling far more at ease. She was his now. That meant she had to be protected—at all costs.
He still didn't plan to return to the Spirit Hall yet. No one had searched for him in over half a year. He was disgusted—especially with Yu Xiaogang. Everything wrong in that place seemed to start with that man.
He had plans for the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan. But not now.
And Haotian Sect? He sneered. Let them wait.
Yet there was one mystery still gnawing at him—Bibi Dong. Her favorability towards him had jumped again—now at eighty-nine. It was strange. He hadn't even interacted with her much. But she was nearing ninety. Why?
—Meanwhile, at the Spirit Hall—
Within the Pope's Hall, deep in the interrogation chambers, Bibi Dong stood silently, blood splattered beneath her feet.
"Shua!"
"Pa!"
The steel whip in her hands sang again, its tip laced with spirit pressure.
The department heads of the Spirit Hall, now strapped to metal frames, howled in agony. Skin flayed. Muscles exposed. Blood dripping. They were nothing more than meat now.
"Saint, spare me! I beg you!"
"I swear I don't know!"
"This matter has nothing to do with me!"
Bibi Dong's deep brown eyes were like a serpent's—calm, but merciless.
"You can scream all you like. But I want one name on my desk by tomorrow morning. The one who bribed you all to cover up Fu Ye's disappearance."
She knew the answer already—Yu Yuanzhen's son. But without evidence, she couldn't act. Not yet. But when she did… heads would roll.
And Yu Xiaogang…
She stepped out of the chamber, cold fury rolling off her.
"Every fifteen minutes," she said to her guards, "rotate salt water and acid water on their wounds. And if you slack off…"
She paused, her glare enough to freeze blood.
"…you'll join them."
In her heart, she whispered:
"Yu Xiaogang… I'll show you what it means to wish for death."
---