Inside the guest room.
Gu Qinghuan was wantonly venting all the longing she had accumulated these past days.
Lu Ning could feel wave after wave of pure, icy Taiyin Force flooding into her body.
This power rampaged through her dried-up meridians, washing over every corner.
She could even feel that trace of Ji Linglong’s Phoenix Aura being forced to retreat by this domineering Taiyin Force, eventually swallowed up and assimilated completely.
“Mm…”
Lu Ning let out a stifled, pained groan.
Right now, her body was like a battlefield.
Two mighty forces were clashing violently within her.
A long time passed.
Only then did Gu Qinghuan slowly lift her head, a shimmering strand flashing between the two for just an instant.
She gazed at Lu Ning, her own handiwork now thoroughly ravaged, and at those beautiful eyes now shimmering with tears, a trace of morbid satisfaction flickering across her own gaze.
“Master, are you feeling any better now?”
Gu Qinghuan licked her red lips, Lu Ning’s scent still lingering there, sending her into a trance.
Lu Ning glared at her, her eyes rimmed red.
“Wretched disciple! You… How dare you!”
“Dare?”
Gu Qinghuan let out a light laugh, a note of pleasure in her tone.
“Master, with how you look now, that line hardly has any deterrent effect at all.”
She gently caressed Lu Ning’s cheek, her tone ambiguous.
“Besides, your disciple is only helping you ‘heal your wounds.'”
“Look—hasn’t that hateful aura on your body faded a lot already?”
Lu Ning stiffened at her words.
Only now did she realize that the trace of Ji Linglong’s power within her—the one that made her feel feverish and uneasy—had indeed vanished without a trace.
In its place was the familiar Taiyin Force.
“Master, you don’t need to thank your disciple.”
It was as if Gu Qinghuan could see right through her thoughts; her smile grew even brighter.
“This is what I should do as your disciple.”
As she spoke, she began to undo the night-walking clothes on Lu Ning’s body.
When Lu Ning’s fair, jade-like skin was exposed to the air, Gu Qinghuan’s breathing grew noticeably rapid.
She saw something she wasn’t supposed to see.
On Lu Ning’s snow-white skin, faint red marks lingered.
Though shallow, Gu Qinghuan’s sharp eyes picked them out at a glance.
They were the marks left by some restraining power.
The damn Immortal-Binding Rope!
The thought of her own Master being bound by another woman in such a shameful way reignited Gu Qinghuan’s jealousy and rage.
“What else did that woman do to you?”
Her voice was hoarse, as though she was forcibly suppressing her emotions.
Lu Ning was startled by her appearance, her body trembling uncontrollably.
“N-no… nothing…” Lu Ning hurriedly denied it.
“Nothing?”
Gu Qinghuan clearly didn’t believe her.
Her fingertip traced those faint red marks lightly.
“Master, you’re still lying to me.”
“These marks are obviously…”
She didn’t finish the sentence, but her meaning was clear.
“Master, don’t worry.”
Gu Qinghuan’s face returned to that gentle yet morbid smile.
“I told you, I’ll help wash away all the filth from you.”
With that, she scooped Lu Ning up in her arms and strode toward the giant wooden tub on the floor, already filled with steaming hot water.
It was the bath Gu Qinghuan had prepared earlier.
With a splash—
Lu Ning was dumped right in.
The warm water instantly enveloped her entire body, bringing a hint of warmth to her icy skin—but far more overwhelming was the endless shame and fear.
She curled up in the corner of the tub, burying her head deep, not daring to look at Gu Qinghuan.
Gu Qinghuan walked slowly to the side of the tub and picked up a damp towel.
Then, she stripped off her own outer garment, leaving only thin inner clothes, and stepped into the tub as well.
“Master, don’t be afraid.”
Gu Qinghuan’s voice rang out by her ear.
She took hold of one of Lu Ning’s arms and began to wipe her down.
Her movements were gentle, as if wiping down a rare piece of porcelain, not missing a single spot.
“How could those wicked women bear to leave such ugly marks here?”
As she spoke, she gently ran the towel over the faint red marks, back and forth.
“Your disciple will help clean them all away for you.”
“I’ll help you return to the most perfect, pure state.”
“A state that belongs to me alone.”
Her voice grew lower, her breathing rougher.
The hand holding the towel also started to stray.
Lu Ning let out a stifled moan, her body trembling uncontrollably.
This feeling was too strange.
She felt as if this wretched disciple was slowly leaving her mark upon her, bit by bit.
“Seems like Master enjoys your disciple’s ‘service’ quite a lot, too.”
Gu Qinghuan watched her reactions, the smile on her face becoming more playful.
She tossed the towel aside, reached out, and turned Lu Ning’s body to face her.
Their gazes met.
Within Gu Qinghuan’s cool, clear eyes, Lu Ning saw unrestrained possessiveness.
“Master.”
Gu Qinghuan lowered her head slowly.
“Did you know?”
“Right now, I just want to hold you in my arms.”
“And never let you leave me again.”
As her words faded, she didn’t hesitate any longer, lowering her head once more.
This time, it was with a strange mix of tenderness and entanglement.
It was as if she was savoring the finest delicacy in the world, tasting it with utmost care.
At the same time, even purer, vaster Taiyin Force surged wildly into Lu Ning’s body.
Lu Ning felt her consciousness slowly being eroded, assimilated by this icy force.
She seemed to see an endless world of snow and ice.
And she herself was the only red lotus on that snowfield, about to be frozen over.
She wanted to struggle and escape, but her body sank deeper and deeper, unable to resist.
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