The sun slid low over Seven Profound Martial House, turning the refitted cultivation fields into bands of red-gold light.
On the floating stone platforms, the five women's auras slowly calmed.
Bone Forging cultivation had a particular "sound" to Ren's senses—bones ringing like tempered metal, marrow breathing in true essence, the body learning to carry weight it could never have borne before. Right now, all five notes resonated together, each with its own flavor, each braided around the subtle, deep rhythm of the Azure True Dragon Infinity Seeds in their bodies.
Murong Zi's was a spear crashing through flame, every bone humming with the ferocity of a thrust that refused to bend.
Bai Jingyun's was a sword being drawn, edge hidden beneath silk, Fire lines etched into meridian and marrow.
Na Yi's was a mountain settling its roots—heavy, unmoving, quietly bearing the weight of everything around her.
Na Shui's was a river smoothing stone, every vibration rounded, soothing, carrying the power to erode mountains given time.
And Qin Xingxuan's, on the highest platform, was a spear pointed into the sky, refusing to bow, Fire Laws tightening around an invisible edge.
Ren let them circulate a few breaths longer, listening to the way their bones sang, to the way Modified Chaotic Virtues Combat Meridians carved "perfect force" into their marrow with each loop of true essence. The formation beneath the platforms responded to him, faint Dao lines and his own Heaven's traces glimmering under the stone, gently compressing worldly energy and feeding it into their bodies.
Then he lifted his hand.
"That's enough for today."
His voice was relaxed, but it cut cleanly through the thick true essence. The floating stones shivered in response.
One by one, the lines of the formation dimmed. The stone platforms descended, stopping just above the terrace before locking into place with a soft, resonant thrum. Fire, Thunder, and Wind retreated from the open air, folding back into flesh—into blood, bones, meridians, dantians.
Murong Zi opened her eyes first.
Sweat clung to her neck, darkening the collar of her robe. The Azure True Dragon Infinity Seed in her dantian pulsed like a second heart, Fire, Thunder, Wind, and a faint spear Seed quietly rotating around it, each one reshaping her true essence into something more aggressive, more direct.
She exhaled once, the tip of her spear dipping, then straightened, eyes already reaching for him.
Ren chuckled.
"Zi, if you glare at me like that," he drawled, "people are going to think I bullied you."
Murong Zi snorted, but the flush on her cheeks deepened.
"You did bully me," she muttered. "Who makes someone run essence through their bones for that long?"
"Someone who doesn't want his spear-girl snapping her arm the first time she stabs through a Revolving Core shield," he said.
Her lips twitched. The complaints in her eyes melted, replaced by that fierce, hungry light he liked—the light of someone who saw a higher mountain and wanted to ram a spear through it.
Ren stepped close, hand curling lightly around the back of her neck. He bent, gave her a kiss that was just a bit longer than necessary, just deep enough to make her bones hum for a different reason.
When he pulled back, Murong Zi's breath had gone uneven, her Fire Laws quietly boiling. Her glare had softened into something more molten.
He left her like that and slid to Bai Jingyun.
Her breathing was steady, true essence moving with an elegance that hadn't been there months ago. Her Azure True Dragon Infinity Seed glowed in her blood, subtly reshaping her foundation with each realm. Her Fire, Thunder, Wind, and a faint Sword Seed calmly pulsed.
"You held the fire well," he said, voice softening without him thinking about it. "No leaks this time."
Bai Jingyun's lashes trembled.
"…That's because of you," she said quietly. "If you hadn't… rebuilt my meridians, I…"
Ren put a finger to her lips, smile easy, eyes calm.
"Hey," he said. "I told you already—what I did was just clearing stones out of the river. You're the one who keeps choosing to flow forward."
The corners of her eyes went a little red. The proud Heavenly Abode girl who once ground her teeth under the Seven Profound Valleys' pressure bit her lip once, then leaned up on instinct.
Ren didn't avoid it.
He caught her chin with a gentle hand and kissed her—slow, unhurried, just long enough for her to melt a little against him. When he drew back, her cool, aloof aura was a mess of shy ripples.
Behind them, Na Shui made a tiny sound.
"Shameless…" she whispered, but her eyes were shining, clear as water catching sunset light.
Ren turned, catching her gaze.
Na Shui's Azure True Dragon Infinity Seed and Seeds of Fire, Thunder, Wind, and Water turned like a small constellation—an adaptable, healing core wrapped around sturdy bone, a future support pillar in human form.
He spread his arms.
"Come here, Shui."
She hesitated only a breath—shame, shyness, expectation all mixing in her eyes—before obeying.
He drew her in, one arm firm around her waist, the other cradling the back of her head. This time, he didn't stay gentle. His lips moved against hers with the kind of practiced, patient ruthlessness that never pushed past what she could take, but absolutely refused to stop just because she was dizzy. He coaxed her, teased her, deepened the kiss until her knees almost gave way and her fingers clutched at his robe.
When he finally let her breathe, Na Shui's eyes were watery, her cheeks scarlet in a way that had nothing to do with Fire Laws.
"…Ren," she whispered, voice a soft ripple of reproach and sweetness.
Ren's smile curved.
"Who asked you to look at me like a little puppy?" he asked lazily. "If you wag your tail, I'm going to pet you."
Na Shui made a small, helpless noise and buried her face against his chest to hide the way that line hit her heart.
Na Yi watched from one side, expression calm as ever.
Her Azure True Dragon Infinity Seed pulsed at her core like compacted bedrock, supporting the Fire, Thunder, Wind, and Earth Seeds she'd carved out.
But even she couldn't keep every ripple from her eyes.
Ren met her gaze, and in that instant he felt it—the quiet tug, the restrained wish.
She wanted a day too.
Bai Jingyun did as well; he could feel it in the way she lingered close, in the way her fingers brushed his sleeve and didn't quite let go.
And above them, on the highest platform, Qin Xingxuan still hadn't moved.
She hadn't opened her eyes, but her aura betrayed her. Her Fire Martial Intent wheel turned behind her like a burning sun, Fire Laws pressing hard toward the second level. The Heaven-Piercing Elemental Cannon pattern in her Spiritual Sea was trembling on the edge of completion, its lines of Fire, Thunder, and Wind close to locking into a true "cannon" instead of a half-finished frame.
More than anything, her spear-heart was fixed on him.
She wanted to stay by his side, just a little longer today.
Ren's eyes gentled.
"All right," he said, raising his voice enough to reach all of them. "Today's training stops now."
He let his gaze sweep over the five one by one.
"You all did well," he said. "Better than most sects would dare dream of. If the Seven Profound Valleys could see you now, half their elders would cough blood from envy."
Murong Zi snorted, but her shoulders straightened, chin lifting.
Bai Jingyun's lips curved, shy pride slipping through the calm.
Na Yi's eyes narrowed in quiet satisfaction, like a mountain pleased with how its trees had grown.
Na Shui beamed openly, joy bubbling like a spring.
Qin Xingxuan finally opened her eyes.
They were bright, clear, like a spear-tip after being wiped clean.
Ren smiled straight at her.
"Especially you," he added.
Qin Xingxuan's heartbeat stumbled.
"Come down," he said. "You're done tempering for today."
She obeyed, leaping lightly off the highest platform to land at his side. Her steps were steady, but the faint tension at the corners of her mouth betrayed her expectations.
Murong Zi narrowed her eyes, looking between them.
Then, very deliberately, she hooked an arm around Na Shui's shoulders.
"…Ah," Murong Zi said, drawing out the sound as if in sudden realization. "I just remembered that Na Shui and I promised to help the juniors with basic spear forms tonight."
Na Shui blinked.
"We did?"
Murong Zi's hand tightened on her shoulder, spear-callused fingers digging in just enough to send the message.
"We did," she said firmly. "Isn't that right?"
Na Shui looked at Qin Xingxuan, at Ren, then caught the faint plea hidden beneath Murong Zi's forced-casual act.
Her eyes curved.
"…Yes," she said. "We did."
She slid her own arm around Murong Zi's waist, conspiratorial light in her gaze.
"We'll go ahead first," Na Shui told Ren, smile sweet. "Ren, you should rest properly too."
Ren laughed under his breath.
"You two," he said, amused. "Scheming for your sister again?"
Murong Zi tossed her ponytail, pretending indifference.
"If someone is too slow to say she wants something, then as her sisters we naturally have to help," she said coolly. "Isn't that right… Qin junior sister?"
Qin Xingxuan's ears turned red.
"Zi…" she said, helpless.
Murong Zi just grinned, grabbed Na Shui's hand, and dragged her toward the stairs, their silhouettes long in the sunset light.
Na Yi moved to follow, Bai Jingyun beside her.
As they passed, Ren reached out and brushed his fingers against their wrists, the touch light but deliberate.
Na Yi glanced at him; Bai Jingyun looked up.
He simply said, "Don't worry. All of you will get a day. We'll be lazy in the courtyard and let the world handle itself for a while."
Bai Jingyun's eyes lit up, a small, luminous spark.
Na Yi's expression barely changed, but a faint warmth flickered at the bottom of her usual still-water gaze.
"…En," Na Yi said softly. "We'll hold you to it."
They left together, red-sunset light trailing along their backs.
In moments, the terrace grew quiet.
Only Ren and Qin Xingxuan remained, standing side by side, the evening breeze tugging at their robes.
For a long breath, Qin Xingxuan said nothing.
Her fingers brushed the shaft of her spear, then stilled.
Ren tipped his head, studying her profile.
"You want to say something?" he asked.
Qin Xingxuan hesitated, then slowly shook her head.
"It's nothing," she said. "I just…"
Her voice trailed off.
He smiled.
"Come on," he said. "Walk with me."
…
The path from the cultivation field to Ren's courtyard wound past the Martial House's main training grounds.
Even at dusk, there were disciples still moving through basic stances, fists rising and falling, sweat dripping onto packed earth. Once, many of them had cut corners, skipped repetitions, treated cultivation like an obligation.
Now, when Ren and Qin Xingxuan passed, backs straightened. Stances deepened. True essence burned more fiercely. Even those who didn't look directly at him adjusted their breathing, forcing one more cycle of true essence through tired meridians.
No one dared slack under the eyes of the man who had crushed Acacia Peak.
But more than fear, there was something else.
Some of the younger disciples—especially the girls—stole glances at Qin Xingxuan, at the quiet spear-woman walking a half-step behind him. At Murong Zi's silhouette in the distance. At Bai Jingyun's cool, refined figure. At Na Yi and Na Shui's steady steps earlier.
Their eyes were full of a single thought.
I want to be like that.
Ren felt all of it.
He didn't comment.
This was the path he'd thrown at the Martial House's feet—a road paved with shattered mountains and kneeling elders. Whether they walked it or not was theirs to choose.
His courtyard door creaked open under his hand.
Qin Xingxuan stepped in and, as always, felt a little of her tension bleed away. Her spear-heart, always taut as a drawn bowstring, loosened just a fraction.
Ren closed the door with a quiet click.
He didn't rush.
He simply walked to the stone bench beneath the old tree and sat, patting the space beside him.
Qin Xingxuan approached slowly, then sat as well, hands folded in her lap, spear resting against the bench.
For a while, they simply listened to the evening—distant shouts, the thud of fists striking wooden stakes, a sparring cry, the rustle of leaves overhead.
Ren was the one who broke the silence.
"You pushed yourself hard today," he said. "Half-step Pulse Condensation is a tricky place to stand. You can't brute force the step or your foundation will crack later."
Qin Xingxuan's fingers tightened in her lap.
"…I know," she said. "It's just…"
Her brows knit.
"When you stand there," she said quietly, "it feels like the road ahead is… too wide. Like no matter how far I run, I'll still only see your back. If I don't at least keep chasing, I…"
Ren's hand moved.
He caught her chin, gently turning her face toward him.
Her eyes met his.
He didn't speak right away.
He just looked, gaze steady, warm, seeing the anxiety she was trying to bury, the stubbornness that refused to be shaken, the spear that only ever pointed forward—even when it hurt.
"You're thinking too much," he said finally.
Her lips parted.
"At your age," he continued, "with your background, with the Martial House's pitiful foundation… if you were somewhere else, any major sect would've called you a heaven-defying genius already. The only reason you feel 'behind' is because you keep comparing yourself to me."
He smiled faintly.
"That's not fair to you," he said. "I'm a cheat."
Qin Xingxuan blinked.
"…A what?"
"In this world," he said, amused, "there are normal martial artists who walk step by step… and then there are anomalies. People whose Daos come from too high up, whose tools don't belong to this era. People like that shouldn't be your measuring stick."
He tapped her forehead lightly.
"Look ahead," he said. "Not up."
Her eyes shimmered.
For someone whose Dao was as straight and stubborn as a spear, she didn't like showing weakness. But with him—after Acacia Peak, after blood and fire and the sight of him standing alone against a mountain—her defenses loosened.
"…Ren," she said softly.
He raised a brow.
She hesitated.
Then, in a single motion that surprised even herself, she shifted closer and leaned against him, resting her head against his shoulder.
His body was warm.
His true essence flowed like a calm, roaring river beneath his skin, the faint taste of Heaven-Piercing Martial Intent humming in his bones—Fire, Thunder, and Wind compressed to the limit and wrapped around his Dao Heart. She had been around it many times. But in this quiet, with no one watching, it felt… different.
More intimate.
Her voice came out barely above a whisper.
"…Stay with me for a while," she said. "Just today. I don't want to think about cultivation. Or Acacia Peak. Or Martial Meetings."
Ren's smile turned slow.
"That's more like it," he said. "When you want something, say it straight."
His arm slid around her waist, drawing her fully against him.
Qin Xingxuan's breath hitched.
He tilted her chin up again, and this time, there was nothing gentle about the way he kissed her.
Her world narrowed to the feel of his mouth, the heat of his hands, the way his true essence brushed against hers, coaxing, stirring. Modified Heretical God Force's spirals in her body responded instinctively, gates opening a sliver as her emotions surged. She clutched his robe, her spear-callused fingers suddenly clumsy.
By the time he finally let her breathe, Qin Xingxuan was flushed down to her collarbones, eyes slightly hazy, Fire Martial Intent wheel spinning faintly behind her like a half-seen sun.
"Ren…" she murmured.
He chuckled.
"What is it?" he asked, voice low. "Not enough?"
Her cheeks burned hotter.
"…You're impossible," she said faintly.
"That's fine," he replied, forehead resting lightly against hers. "As long as you still choose me."
He inhaled, her scent clean and sharp as fresh-cut bamboo, the cool undertone of evening dew still clinging to her skin. "I want you, Xingxuan."
The words settled deep, a quiet warmth in her chest that had nothing to do with Fire Laws.
His lips traced the line of her jaw, slow, deliberate, making her shiver.
"Relax," he murmured against her skin. "Just for today, you're not a genius who has to catch up. You're not even a spear artist."
He shifted, lips brushing against her ear, breath warm.
"Tonight, you're just Xingxuan."
Qin Xingxuan's eyes squeezed shut.
Something in her chest came loose.
She buried her face against the crook of his neck, inhaling the scent of him—clean, warm, with that faint, wild undertone of blood and lightning she'd come to associate with Ren. The arms around her tightened, one hand splayed against her back, the other cupping the back of her head, fingers threading through her dark hair.
"Just Xingxuan…" she repeated, the words half-muffled against his skin.
"Just Xingxuan," he confirmed, his voice a low rumble she could feel through her cheek.
He guided her, not toward the bed, but to a low, wide cushion by the low table, the old tree above them whispering secrets to the wind. They sank down onto it, the fabric cool beneath their knees. He didn't crush her. He simply drew her into his lap, letting her settle against him, her hands resting uncertainly on his shoulders.
The courtyard lights weren't lit. The only illumination came from the rising moon, a pale silver that softened the edges of the world, turning his hair to midnight and catching the faint gleam in his eyes.
"I've always watched you," she confessed, the words escaping before she could stop them. Her voice was soft, vulnerable. "Ever since you first came here. You were always… so far ahead. Untouchable."
Ren's hands moved, slow and sure, one tracing the line of her spine from nape to the small of her back, the other resting on her hip.
"Not untouchable," he corrected gently. "Just… busy carving a path."
He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth. "But I always saw you. The girl with the spear, standing alone. Never wavering."
Qin Xingxuan's breath hitched. Her fingers tightened on the fabric of his robe. "I was scared you'd leave me behind."
"Never," Ren's voice was a low vow against her skin. He kissed her again, a slow, deep pressure that made her toes curl. "You're part of the path I'm carving. And I don't leave my own behind."
His hands weren't idle. With a practiced ease, he loosened the sash at her waist. The fine fabric of her inner robes parted, revealing skin that glowed like polished jade in the moonlight. He traced her collarbone with a fingertip, a light, reverent touch that sent a shiver through her.
"You're beautiful, Xingxuan," he murmured, his gaze following the path of his finger. "Not just because of your face. Your spirit. The way you hold yourself. The way you fight for what you want. That's beautiful."
A flush spread across her chest, a deeper bloom than the one caused by the evening chill. She felt exposed, not just in body, but in soul. He saw too much. He always did.
She pushed at the shoulders of his own robes, a silent, desperate plea. She wanted to feel him, to erase the last barrier between them. He obliged, shrugging out of the dark silk until it pooled around them, leaving the hard planes of his chest and shoulders bare to the moonlight. The cool night air did nothing to diminish the heat radiating from him.
He lowered her onto the wide cushion, the silver moonlight spilling over them. He hovered above her, braced on his arms, looking down at her with an expression so full of warmth it was almost overwhelming. He was the storm, the wildfire, the force that had reshaped their world, but here, in this quiet courtyard, he was just hers.
"You don't have to be strong tonight," he whispered, his breath fanning her lips. "Not with me."
Qin Xingxuan exhaled shakily, fingers curling into his hair—short, silken strands slipping through her grasp. "But I—"
Ren kissed her again before she could finish, swallowing her protest with a slow, teasing nip at her lower lip. His hands smoothed down her sides, fingertips pressing just shy of painful into the soft flesh of her hips.
"You are strong," he murmured against her mouth, voice rough with want. "But right now, I want you soft for me."
His thumb brushed the inside of her thigh, drawing a startled gasp—her spear calluses scraped his shoulder when she clutched him tighter.
"Ren—" The name broke on her lips as he kissed down her neck, teeth grazing where pulse hammered. "You're... not playing fair."
Her usual discipline unraveled with every touch, Fire Laws flickering wildly in her veins.
He chuckled against her skin, fingers tracing the dip of her waist. "When have I ever played fair, spear-girl?" The nickname curled warm between them, intimate as his palm sliding up her inner thigh.
"But this?" His lips found hers again, slow, reverent. "This is the only rule I follow—making sure you feel every bit of how much I want you."
Qin Xingxuan arched into him, her usual sharp edges melting under his hands. "Say it again," she breathed, nails scraping his back. "That you—"
Ren caught her wrist, pressing her palm flat against his chest where his heartbeat thundered. "That I want you?" His lips traced the shell of her ear, teeth catching lightly. "Xingxuan, I've wanted you since I saw your spear, proud and steady, daring the world to try and knock you down."
His free hand slipped between them, finding her heat with an unnerving precision that stole her breath. "I want the girl who trains until her hands bleed, who never backs down. The girl who's stubborn, brilliant, and so damned beautiful it makes my own fire burn hotter."
He stroked her with a slow, deliberate rhythm that had her hips rolling instinctively. "I want all of you. The genius, the fighter, the woman right here in my arms, falling apart on my fingers."
"Ren—" Her hips bucked, seeking more friction, more of that maddening, perfect pressure. "Don't stop."
"I won't," he promised, voice dropping to a low growl against her throat. "Not until you're trembling, not until you're screaming my name, not until you forget every reason you ever had to doubt how much I—" He broke off with a sharp inhale as her fingers found him, her grip sure despite the tremor in her hands.
"Like this?" she asked, a flicker of her usual challenging spark in her hazy eyes. She stroked him in return, learning him with a touch that was all spear-woman's precision and newly-won confidence. Her thumb circled the sensitive tip, drawing a choked groan from him. "Is this what you want, Ren?"
"You're a fast learner," he rasped, hips jerking into her touch. He captured her mouth in a bruising kiss, tongue delving deep as he adjusted their positions in one fluid motion. He settled between her thighs, the blunt head of him notching against her entrance.
"But some lessons are better learned... like this." He pushed forward, sinking into her slick heat with a slow, inexorable pressure that stretched her deliciously, filled her until she was arching off the cushions, a choked cry tearing from her throat.
He stilled, buried to the hilt, giving her body a moment to adjust to the overwhelming intrusion. His forehead rested against hers, their breath mingling in the cool night air.
"Xingxuan," he breathed, her name a prayer and a claim. "You feel... perfect."
A tremor ran through her, a full-body shudder that had nothing to do with cold. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer, a silent, desperate plea for more.
"Don't just say it," she demanded, her voice raw with need. "Show me."
Ren chuckled, a low, dark sound that vibrated through her. He began to move, a slow, deep rhythm that was immediately intoxicating. He rolled his hips, each drag against her inner walls sending jolts of pleasure racing up her spine.
"Oh, I'll show you," he promised against her lips. "I'll show you until you can't think, until the only word you remember is my name."
His pace increased, thrusts becoming harder, deeper, each one a deliberate, powerful statement that said mine.
Her head fell back, exposing the long, pale column of her throat. Ren took the invitation, lips and teeth grazing her skin, leaving a scattering of marks that she knew would bloom into dark bruises by morning—a brand she would wear with pride. Her Fire Laws, usually a controlled inferno, blazed through her meridians, a wild, untamed thing, amplifying every sensation until it was almost too much. The world narrowed to the feel of him inside her, the sound of their bodies meeting in the quiet courtyard, the moonlight on their skin.
"Look at me," he commanded, his voice a low growl. His hand tilted her chin, forcing her gaze to meet his. His eyes were burning, the storm of his power barely held in check, but for her, it was a warmth, a shelter. "I want to see you. All of you."
Qin Xingxuan met his stare, her own eyes dark and dilated with pleasure. She saw everything there—lust, yes, but also something deeper, something that made her chest ache with a sweet, painful fullness. Affection. Pride. Love. She saw the man who had shattered Acacia Peak for her, the man who saw past the genius, past the warrior, to the girl who simply wanted to be seen.
"I see you," she whispered, the words torn from her on a gasp as he angled his hips, hitting a spot inside her that made her vision white out. "I see you, Ren."
His answering groan was raw, his hands tightening on her hips as he drove deeper, the rhythm between them fracturing into something desperate, perfect.
He shifted, pulling her leg higher around his waist, changing the angle until she was writhing, crying out with every thrust. Her hands scrabbled for purchase on the sweat-slick planes of his back, nails leaving half-moon indentations.
"Ren!" The name was a keening cry, ripped from her throat as her climax crashed over her, sudden and overwhelming.
Her body convulsed, inner muscles clamping down on him, and he followed her over the edge with a hoarse shout of her name, burying his face in the crook of her neck as he poured himself into her.
Afterwards, he didn't pull away. He stayed inside her, cradling her trembling body against his chest, pressing soft kisses to her damp brow.
"You're shaking," he murmured, voice rough with concern. She laughed weakly, fingers tracing idle patterns on his sweat-slicked back.
"You ruined me," she breathed, but there was no reproach—only wonder.
Ren chuckled low in his throat, nuzzling against her temple. "I rebuilt you first," he countered, his thumb stroking the curve of her hip. "And I'll keep rebuilding you every time you need it."
Qin Xingxuan tilted her head, catching his lips in a slow, tender kiss—softer now, without the desperate hunger of before.
"No wonder Zi calls you shameless," she teased, but her voice was fond.
His grin was unrepentant as he rolled them sideways, keeping her tucked against him despite the sticky warmth between them. "Zi's just jealous," he murmured, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "She'll get her turn soon."
His fingers traced the path of her Fire Laws beneath her skin, feeling the way they pulsed in lazy contentment. "Besides, I'm allowed to spoil you. Especially when you look at me like that. Don't think we're stopping just here."
Qin Xingxuan huffed, but the effect was ruined when he kissed the corner of her mouth—soft, lingering, unbearably tender.
"You're insatiable," she accused, but her legs tightened around him.
Ren's hand slid lower, coaxing a sigh from her as he stroked the sensitive skin behind her knee. "I can't help it," he promised, lips trailing down her throat. "You deserve to feel cherished, spear-girl."
He shifted, rolling her under him again as he braced himself above her. "Let me show you how much."
His touch was a slow exploration, learning her body with the focus of a martial artist studying a new form. Every gasp, every shiver, was a signpost guiding him. He paid homage to her strength—the toned muscles of her arms, the firm curve of her thighs, the slight roughness of spear-calluses on her fingers as she clutched at his back. He mapped her with a devotion that made her chest ache, a silent litany of praise spoken in the language of touch.
"Ren," she breathed, her head falling back as he nipped at the sensitive skin of her shoulder. The moonlight painted him in silver and shadow, making his eyes gleam with an intensity that was both terrifying and beautiful. "Don't... don't stop."
"I won't," he vowed, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through her. "I'll never stop wanting you, Xingxuan." He shifted, settling between her thighs once more, the hard length of him pressing against her.
"Look at me," he commanded, his thumb stroking her cheek. "I want to see those beautiful eyes when I'm inside you."
Her breath hitched as he pushed forward, sliding deep with a deliberate slowness that stole the air from her lungs. There was only a full sensation that felt… right. Like a key turning in a lock she hadn't known was rusted shut. Her hips lifted to meet his, a silent invitation he accepted with a deep, possessive groan.
He began to move, a slow, rocking rhythm that was a stark contrast to the hungry urgency of their first joining. Each stroke was a caress, a deliberate stoking of the fire he'd ignited in her. He watched her face, absorbing every flicker of pleasure, every soft sigh that escaped her lips.
"You're so beautiful like this," he murmured, bending to press a soft kiss to her forehead. "All that discipline, all that control… unwound. Just for me."
His words, more than his actions, unraveled her further. The need to perform, to prove herself, melted away, leaving only a raw, vulnerable want.
"Ren," she whispered, her hands tangling in his hair. "Kiss me."
He obliged, capturing her lips in a kiss that was slow and deep, a tender claiming that mirrored the rhythm of their bodies. There was no desperation this time, only a profound, almost reverent intimacy. He poured all the affection he couldn't always put into words into that kiss, into every gentle thrust, every possessive touch on her skin.
"Tell me what you need, spear-girl," he breathed against her lips, his hips rolling in a languid circle that made her toes curl. "Tell me everything."
"You," she gasped, her back arching as he hit a particularly sensitive spot. "Just you. Always you."
"Always," he echoed, his promise sealing the words between them. He adjusted his position, hooking her knees over his arms, opening her to him completely. The new angle allowed him to go deeper, and the friction sent jolts of pure pleasure singing through her veins. "I want to see you fall apart again, Xingxuan. I want to be the one to put you back together."
His control was a thing of beauty, a masterful display of patience and precision that was uniquely Ren. He drove her to the brink again and again, only to pull back slightly, letting the crest of pleasure recede before building it up once more. It was a delicious torture, a slow, deliberate unraveling of her senses until she was writhing beneath him, a litany of his name falling from her lips like a prayer.
…
By the time the first faint light of dawn slipped past the window screens, the courtyard was quiet again.
Qin Xingxuan lay curled against his chest, hair scattered across the pillow, her breathing slow and deep. The sheets tangled around them carried the faint scent of sweat, sandalwood, and the interwoven traces of Fire and Spear.
Ren watched her for a while.
Even in sleep, the spear in her heart didn't disappear. It had simply softened, turned inward, point resting but never broken.
He could feel the changes in her.
Her Azure True Dragon Infinity Seed pulsed with a new rhythm, its law adjusting itself upward, true essence capacity already beginning to expand to match. The four Seeds—Fire, Thunder, Wind, Spear—rotated with newfound harmony, each circulation of Modified Heretical God Force shaping her true essence into a tighter, sharper flow, every loop imprinting a little more of "Heaven-Piercing" into her core.
Deeper still, her meridians had begun to weave into a more complex network.
The bridge between Bone Forging and Pulse Condensation was forming—lines of circulation crossing the gaps between bones, carving out the first "pulses" that would one day connect her entire body like a single, beating heart of true essence.
He could have guided her through it explicitly, step by step. Explained how to condense the first pulse, where to let the true essence bite into marrow, where to let it flow.
He had chosen not to.
He preferred this.
She had walked to the cliff's edge herself. All he had done was stand beside her long enough that, when she finally jumped, she knew she wouldn't fall.
A faint tremor ran through her dantian.
Ren's eyes narrowed slightly.
There you are.
True essence surged.
Without waking her, her cultivation base moved—bones, blood, meridians, Revolving Core, all joining into a single, integrated circuit. The half-formed network between bones flashed, then condensed, weaving into a preliminary "pulse" that connected flesh, marrow, and core.
Pulse Condensation.
Not forced.
Not shaky.
Perfectly aligned with her body, her Laws, her Dao Heart.
Ren's lips curved.
He closed his eyes, letting his own true essence quietly wrap around her like a second, invisible blanket—stabilizing the transition, softening the impact on her Soul Sea, letting her slip through a realm-bottleneck as naturally as breathing.
Time flowed.
When Qin Xingxuan finally stirred, the sky outside had turned fully bright. Morning light diffused gently through the paper windows.
Her lashes fluttered.
Then she jolted—only to freeze when she realized exactly where she was lying.
Her face went crimson.
"…Ren—!"
He laughed, the sound low and lazy, the kind of laugh that said he had all the time in the world.
"Morning," he said. "Sleep well?"
She glared at him weakly, fingers clutching the blanket up to her collarbone.
"…You… how can you be so calm…"
"Practice," he said lightly. "Now, before you start panicking, take a proper look inside."
She blinked.
"Inside…?"
"Yes," he said. "Your dantian. Your meridians. Your core."
Something in his tone made the embarrassment in her chest pause, like a speartip halting a step before the thrust.
Qin Xingxuan closed her eyes, drawing her consciousness inward.
Her breath caught.
The first thing she felt was her dantian.
The resistance she'd always felt at the edges of her meridians—the slight roughness, the "drag" when she circulated too fast—was gone. Every loop of true essence was smooth, efficient, almost eager.
Then she felt the pulses.
Threads of true essence running like rivers between bones, weaving her body into a single integrated whole. Every motion she imagined sent a corresponding shift in those pulses, as if her body and true essence were finally moving as one.
"This is…" she whispered.
Ren watched her quietly.
"Pulse Condensation," she breathed. "I…"
She opened her eyes, stunned.
"I broke through?"
"You did," he said.
"B-but… we didn't…" She flushed again, words tangling. "We weren't cultivating, we were…"
"Who says you weren't cultivating?" he asked, amused. "You relaxed. You let go of the knot in your heart. You stopped staring at the bottleneck like it was a wall you had to smash through and just… breathed. The foundation was already there. Once your Martial Heart loosened, the rest followed."
Qin Xingxuan didn't know whether to be more embarrassed or more moved.
Her eyes burned slightly.
"…Thank you," she said quietly. "If it weren't for you, I…"
Ren's expression softened, the lazy edge fading, leaving only the depth beneath.
"Xingxuan," he said. "Don't make me repeat myself. I laid the groundwork. You walked every step. Pulse Condensation isn't some candy I can hand you."
She stared at him.
Then, very slowly, she leaned forward, hesitating only an instant before pressing her lips to his.
It wasn't a desperate kiss this time.
It was soft, careful, full of genuine gratitude and a spearwoman's rare tenderness.
When she pulled back, her gaze was clear.
"…Even so," she said seriously, "I still want to say it."
"Say what?" he asked.
She took a breath.
"Thank you," she repeated. "For Acacia Peak. For my spear. For this road. For… everything."
Ren smiled.
"You're cute when you're earnest," he said.
He kissed her again, quick and teasing, just to watch her flush.
"Come on," he said. "Let's see how your new strength feels."
…
A short while later, the courtyard's stone dummies had been dragged into position.
Qin Xingxuan stood in the center of the open space, spear in hand.
Her robes had been changed; her hair was tied back. The only trace of what had happened earlier was the faint color at her ears and the new steadiness in her aura.
Ren stood with his hands behind his back, watching, his presence quiet but inescapable, like a mountain's shadow.
"First, just circulate," he said. "Walk a few spear forms. Feel the difference."
Qin Xingxuan obeyed.
True essence flowed.
The Modified Chaotic Virtues Combat Meridians patterns rose and fell within her body, each motion of muscle and bone imprinting more "memory" of force into her skeleton. Modified Heretical God Force Seeds pulsed—Fire, Thunder, Wind, Spear—lending each spear-thrust a different flavor, a different edge.
She moved.
Thrust.
Sweep.
Pull.
Each form was one she'd practiced a thousand times… yet now, the power behind them had changed.
When she stepped, the pulses in her body cooperated perfectly, no lag, no roughness—true essence and flesh moving like a single spear being drawn and released.
When she thrust, true essence roared down the spear shaft like a river, guided by the concept of Spear she'd carved into her Dao Heart, compressed by Fire Martial Intent, sharpened by her Spear Seed's faint but stubborn will.
The air in the courtyard hissed.
Spearlight ripped thin lines into the stone tiles, shallow at first, then deeper, as if the ground itself was learning to fear her.
Qin Xingxuan stopped after a full set, gaze bright, chest rising and falling just a little faster—not from exhaustion, but from excitement.
"…So this is Pulse Condensation," she murmured.
"It is," Ren said. "And that's just the beginning. Now, try the Cannon."
She drew a slow breath.
Within her Spiritual Sea, the Heaven-Piercing Elemental Cannon pattern responded to her will.
Before, it had been a half-finished skeleton—lines of Fire, Thunder, and Wind Laws not yet fully intertwined. Now, as her true essence poured into it, those lines clicked into place. Nodes lit up one after another, forming a complete, three-layer structure that hummed with restrained aggression.
Small Success.
Heaven-Piercing Elemental Cannon.
The words weren't spoken, but the pattern carried that meaning.
Qin Xingxuan raised her spear.
True essence gathered at the tip, forming a compact, spinning point of multi-colored light.
Red—Fire.
Violet—Thunder.
Transparent—Wind.
Each rotation compressed them further, squeezing out impurities, fusing their structures according to Ren's Heaven-Piercing Martial Intent logic—shortest path, no waste, pure killing edge.
The courtyard felt it.
The air grew thin, wind essence sucked inward. Faint threads of fire and thunder in the surroundings trembled, as if some invisible hand had pinched them and dragged them toward her spear-tip.
Ren lifted a hand.
He pointed at the courtyard's far wall—a thick slab of reinforced stone, layered with simple protective arrays and braced by formations tied into the Martial House's earth-veins.
"Full power," he said. "Don't hold back."
Qin Xingxuan's spear-hand steadied.
Her Dao Heart quieted.
She stepped forward.
Heaven and earth's Fire, Wind, and Thunder stirred in response—as if a faint vortex had appeared, drawing them into the tiny whirlpool at her spear-tip. The compressed point of light grew more intense, not larger, its edges so sharp that even Ren's skin tingled from across the courtyard.
For an instant, everything held its breath.
Then she thrust.
The world seemed to pause.
A line of light streaked out—so fast it tore an audible crack in the air, like space itself being split open. For that single heartbeat, it felt as if there were no distance between spear-tip and target, only a straight, absolute connection between her will and the wall.
The Heaven-Piercing Elemental Cannon lived up to its name.
The beam struck the stone wall.
There was no explosion at first.
For a heartbeat, everything was silent.
Then—
Boom.
The protective arrays flared and shattered in the same instant, their inscriptions burning white-hot before tearing apart under the compressed Law.
Fire, Thunder, and Wind burst outward, the compressed Laws unraveling in a violent cascade. The wall didn't just break; it disintegrated. Stone turned to dust, dust turned to nothing, a ragged hole tens of feet wide punched straight through the courtyard barrier.
Beyond it, far down the slope, a shoulder of a distant mountain shook—chalky stone darkened, then exploded outward in chunks as a delayed echo of the Cannon's force rippled through rock. A line of shattered stone ran along the mountainside, as if some giant had dragged a spear across it.
The shockwave rolled back, hot and biting, carrying grit and the smell of scorched earth.
Ren flicked his sleeve.
Wind essence bent around them, deflecting debris, quenching the rampaging aftermath. His Heaven-Piercing Martial Intent quietly swallowed the excess Fire, Thunder, and Wind, folding them into harmless ripples that sank into the formation threaded through his courtyard.
When the dust settled, Qin Xingxuan was still standing in the center, chest rising and falling, spear-tip lowered.
She stared at the hole she'd created.
"…This…" she whispered, stunned. "This much… from me?"
Ren whistled softly.
"Not bad," he said. "Small Success Cannon plus Small Success Fire Martial Intent, layered on top of your Seeds and new Pulse Condensation foundation—that's about what I expected."
He stepped forward, resting a hand on her shoulder.
"Judging from that strike and your current circulation," he went on, tone casual but eyes sharp, "if we only talk about pure combat strength… you're sitting around peak late Xiantian."
Qin Xingxuan's head snapped toward him.
"Late… Xiantian?" she echoed.
"Even in the Valley," he said, amused, "you'd make those so-called Great Elders wake up with cold sweat."
She tried to speak.
No words came.
Her whole life, the realms above had been distant mountains—Houtian, Xiantian, Revolving Core. Now, with one night and one breath, she had jumped to a place she had never even dared imagine reaching so quickly.
Not just jumped.
Jumped solidly.
She hadn't sacrificed foundation, hadn't cut corners. Her meridians were smooth, her core stable, her Martial Heart clear.
Her hand tightened on her spear shaft.
The image of Acacia Peak flashed through her mind—blood, flames, her helplessness as a Heavenly Abode girl in front of Xiantian experts.
Now…
Now, if something like that happened again, she wouldn't just stand behind him.
She could stand with him—maybe not shoulder to shoulder yet, but no longer as a distant shadow.
Her eyes burned.
She turned sharply, stepped closer, and wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his chest.
Ren's hand slid up, fingers threading into her hair, palm resting lightly against the back of her head.
"Thank you," she said again, the words muffled by his robe. "Thank you…"
He just smiled and patted her back, letting her heart calm, letting her new realm settle while pressed against his chest.
…
When the others arrived—drawn by the shockwave, by the Spiritual Sea-thrumming aura, by the sudden, violent flare of Fire and Spear—the courtyard was still settling.
Murong Zi stopped dead in the entrance.
Na Yi's eyes narrowed, weighing damage, tracing cracks.
Na Shui's jaw dropped.
Bai Jingyun… forgot to breathe for a moment.
The wall on one side of the courtyard was simply gone. A huge hole yawned there, stone edges melted smooth in places, shattered jagged in others. The smell of burned rock and ozone hung heavy in the air, mixing with the calming sandalwood of Ren's formation.
Qin Xingxuan stood in the center, spear in hand, aura steadier and deeper than ever before.
Her dantian's pulse was paired with something new—a unified, flowing heartbeat of true essence that marked a step none of the others had yet taken.
Murong Zi's eyes widened.
"You—" she started.
Na Shui clapped her hands over her mouth.
"Xingxuan-jie broke through?" she squeaked, voice high with shock and delight.
Na Yi's gaze swept once over Qin Xingxuan, then she nodded slowly.
"…Pulse Condensation," she said. "And your Cannon…?"
"Small Success," Ren answered for her, entirely unapologetic. "We improved as a result of our love. It was a very productive night."
Qin Xingxuan nearly choked on air.
Murong Zi glared at him, face turning red for an entirely different reason than cultivation.
"Productive, my ass," she muttered. "You just wanted to eat wantonly while the rest of us were cultivating."
Na Shui, still flushed from the implications, couldn't help but nod, eyes darting between the ruined wall and the way Qin Xingxuan's ears had turned scarlet.
Even Bai Jingyun, usually calm, sent Ren a look that was half reproach, half helpless amusement.
Ren spread his hands, utterly unbothered.
"I told you," he said. "What I do for one of you, I'll do for all of you. It's just a matter of timing. Today was her turn."
Qin Xingxuan's ears somehow managed to redden further.
Murong Zi snorted.
"Then don't blame us," she said coldly, "when all of us demand our turn."
Na Shui nodded vigorously, eyes shining with mischief and anticipation.
Na Yi's lips curved almost imperceptibly, the mountain showing a hint of spring.
Bai Jingyun met Ren's eyes, gaze steady.
"…I'll hold you to that," she said seriously.
Ren laughed, low and genuine.
"Good," he said. "I'd be disappointed if you didn't."
The atmosphere lightened.
Envy, admiration, eagerness—they all stirred together among the women, but under it all was something stronger.
Trust.
They had seen Qin Xingxuan's change. Her aura wasn't unstable. Her eyes were clearer than ever. Her foundation was deeper, not shallower. The hole in the courtyard wall, the scar on the distant mountain, the way her spear now carried the weight of a late Xiantian strike—none of it felt like a shortcut that would shatter her later.
If this was the result of walking with him…
Then even throwing themselves into fire didn't feel so frightening.