The next day.
When morning light finally filtered through the wooden house, Purple Death was already properly dressed.
Right now, her robes were neat.
The cold, sharp air she usually wore had returned to her face... except it was not quite the same, as a rosy blush sat high on her cheeks.
Her skin looked brighter, almost luminous, as if the long night had not drained her but left her full of vitality instead.
She looked at her own hand, which was filled with renewed strength, and she could even feel that her cultivation had increased significantly.
Purple Death stared at her palm for several seconds.
Then her expression filled with disbelief.
"…This is ridiculous."
She clenched her fist.
"How did my cultivation increase this much?"
She could feel it without any doubt.
And all she had done was spread her legs and let that shameless man put her into every humiliating position he wanted.
