Inner Demon

Guo Jing let out a heavy sigh and said in a low voice, "Those two had extraordinary martial arts and were meticulous in their planning. Their escape skills were second to none, too. At least we managed to wound one of them, so we didn't come away empty-handed."

He looked at Lin Xuan, approval mingling with a trace of solemnity in his eyes. "Xuan'er, if you hadn't been so perceptive and found the lair of those unorthodox villains, they might have continued causing trouble in the city. Who knows how many more soldiers they would have killed?"

"Master's Husband, there's no need to blame yourself. Those two had strange martial arts and were elusive. But who exactly are they? Why did they attack the soldiers of Xiangyang?"

Lin Xuan pondered for a moment, then suddenly said, "Master's Husband, forgive my bold guess, but the martial arts those two used were the long-lost Xuanming Divine Palm. And anyone who could cultivate such a sinister technique to that level, especially working as a pair, must be the infamous Xuanming Elders."

Guo Jing's expression grew grave. "The Xuanming Elders? Haven't they been out of sight for years? If it really was them, then this matter is even more complicated. Why would they appear in Xiangyang, and why would they target our soldiers?"

A cold glint flashed in Lin Xuan's eyes. "I believe they must have been acting on the Mongols' orders. Unable to take the city, the Mongols want to undermine our troops' morale from within. The Xuanming Elders are highly skilled and ruthless. They're exactly the sort of lackeys the Mongols need."

Guo Jing clenched his fists and cried angrily, "Those Tartars! They've stooped to such despicable tactics! Xuan'er, your deduction is sound. It seems we must not only guard against the enemy outside the city, but also remain alert to the undercurrents stirring within it."

The two exchanged a glance, their hearts heavy. Defending Xiangyang was far more difficult and complicated than they had imagined.

Twenty-Eighth Chapter: Inner Demon

The breeze still swept through the Guo Mansion, and shadows of bamboo swayed and shifted.

Huang Rong, long renowned as the Beggar Sect's composed and resourceful leader, was now like a block of ice tossed into boiling water. Unprecedented turmoil and inner torment had utterly melted her composure.

Lately, scenes of Lin Xuan's passionate confession kept surfacing in her mind: that lingering kiss, that warm embrace.

She had tried to blame it all on Lin Xuan being innocently affected by the Soul Shifting Great Law and unable to control himself.

Yet whenever she tried to convince herself, she remembered his eyes in that dazed, "chaotic" state, burning as if they would devour her whole, and his hoarse, possessive growl: "This disciple has improper thoughts about his master." The memory was so vivid that every attempt at self-deception felt feeble and hollow.

She even felt a ridiculous sense of relief that he had still lost his memory, that he was as innocent as a blank sheet of paper. Otherwise, she truly wouldn't have known how to face this young disciple, who had already planted the seed of a forbidden feeling in her heart.

Lin Xuan, however, behaved impeccably. His innocence and humility left her not the slightest excuse to reprimand him.

Every morning, he respectfully had someone bring her a bowl of nourishing soup to calm the heart. He said he had come across the recipe while reading old texts at night and had specially instructed the cook to prepare it. It supposedly had the remarkable effect of "calming the mind, steadying the breath, and aiding internal cultivation."

As soon as the soup arrived in her study, a delicate herbal aroma drifted through the room. Huang Rong knew there had to be more to it and had meant to refuse outright. But for some reason, when the sweet, gentle scent wafted past her nose, her body developed an instinctive craving for it.

After drinking it several times, she realized that the soup really did soothe her unsettled emotions. Even the faint, growing heat deep within her body seemed to ease beneath its gentle touch.

At times, Lin Xuan would even praise Huang Rong in front of Guo Jing, seemingly offhandedly but always at just the right moment, for all the toil she endured for Xiangyang and her unmatched wisdom.

His words brimmed with the untainted sincerity and admiration unique to a young man. With a childlike sigh, he would say, "Master devotes herself heart and soul to Xiangyang and can't sleep at night. This disciple sees it all and aches for her." At other times, he would praise her from the heart: "Master's words always make everything clear to this disciple. Her wisdom is so profound that I could spend my entire life trying and never reach it."

Everything Lin Xuan did was like the spring tide, seeping silently into Huang Rong's heart through every crack.

Deep down, she knew she should stay on guard. Yet the filial devotion and obedience Lin Xuan showed her, so perfect in every detail, gave her no grounds to find fault with him.

She felt as though an invisible yet resilient net had quietly closed around her. No matter how she struggled, it tightened without a sound, leaving her unable to escape the tangled feelings Lin Xuan stirred in her—feelings that were shameful, yet strangely comforting.

These conflicting, agonizing emotions relentlessly seized Huang Rong's heart and mind, day and night.

To her horror, she discovered that she had developed an intense, almost unhealthy craving for Lin Xuan's distinctive scent.

Whenever Lin Xuan happened to pass by, the faint, fresh scent of pine that belonged uniquely to a young man, mingled with the vigorous heat radiating from him, made her graceful body tremble ever so slightly. A nameless tingling warmth rose from deep within her Dantian.

She would even hold her breath, then unconsciously draw in a deep breath, like a traveler dying of thirst, greedily drinking in the intoxicating fragrance.

This increasingly fierce craving left Huang Rong restless and deeply unsettled, even seriously affecting her internal cultivation. To her horror, she found her inner breath more chaotic than ever. At times, it stagnated like frozen water; at others, it rushed wildly through her like a raging fire. It was as if an invisible, powerful force was charging through her body, making it impossible to continue or focus.

At night, she tossed and turned, lying fully dressed on her bed, yet unable to fall asleep. Lin Xuan's young, resolute face, his low, resonant voice, and the searing heat of his fingertips kept replaying in her mind like scenes from a lantern show. Deep in her graceful, slender body, it felt as though a fire of damnation was raging, with nowhere to vent. It could only batter her from within, steadily damaging her heart meridians.

She tried to suppress this forbidden inner demon on her own.

She tried to cleanse her impure thoughts with the clarity of martial discipline and use the strength of her internal energy to suppress the unspeakable craving deep within her body.

But the effect was negligible, and even backfired. Whenever she forced herself into meditation, Lin Xuan's young, wild figure would involuntarily appear in her mind. The heat of his lips, the lingering touch of his fingertips, and his distinctive pine scent all clung to her like the most vicious curse, keeping her from ever truly calming down.

Huang Rong's inner energy raced through her meridians one moment and stagnated the next, surging this way and that and bringing wave after wave of tearing pain. She knew all too well what it meant. These were the most dangerous signs of qi deviation.

As the beloved daughter of Huang Yaoshi, the Eastern Heretic, she understood the ways of martial arts and knew that inner cultivation was most vulnerable to a troubled mind. Yet the more she tried to suppress the craving deep within her body, the stronger it grew. And the deeper the shame buried in her heart became. The two tangled together in an endless vicious cycle, pushing her toward the abyss.

Huang Rong felt lonelier and more helpless than ever.

That afternoon, urgent news arrived that large numbers of Mongolian troops were moving outside Xiangyang. Battle could break out at any moment.

Huang Rong sat in her study, reviewing a mountain of military reports, her heart restless and uneasy. She forced her inner energy to circulate, trying to pull herself free from her tangled thoughts. But suddenly her inner breath reversed, and a piercing pain shot up from her Dantian, spreading through her delicate, graceful body in an instant.

Her frail body shuddered. The brush in her hand fell to the ground with a sharp clatter. "Ngh..." Huang Rong let out a low groan, suppressed to the limit. Her usually rosy complexion turned paper-white, and beads of cold sweat covered her smooth, full forehead. It felt as if an invisible force were tearing her meridians apart while her inner energy rampaged through her, ready to burst her shapely body open. She knew it: she was showing signs of qi deviation!

A thought flashed through Huang Rong's mind like lightning—Lin Xuan!

Her body stiffened as if struck by a thunderbolt, yet her mind cleared in an instant. She remembered Lin Xuan's astonishing "Primal Essence Return Breath" technique. Without warning, she also recalled that night on horseback: the heat radiating from his powerfully built body and the pleasure that had made her lose control completely and surrender herself.

She had thought that memory was an everlasting shame, a forbidden thing she could never touch. But now, on the brink of life and death, that shame was crushed beneath her overwhelming instinct to survive and her longing for martial power.

She needed him desperately! She needed Lin Xuan to calm the chaotic, reversed flow of her inner energy, ease her physical agony, and drive away the inner demon that had tormented her for so long!

Struggling on the brink of collapse, Huang Rong gripped the edge of the desk with her slender, jade-like fingers. They turned pale from the force of her grasp.

She clenched her teeth, fighting the pain that was enough to make anyone faint. Summoning the last of her strength, she called out in a hoarse voice, as if forcing the words from her throat: "Someone... someone!"

Hearing her, a maid hurried through the door. At the sight of Huang Rong's ashen face, she turned pale with alarm and cried, "Madam! Wh-what's wrong?"

"Go... go get Xuan'er!" Huang Rong's voice was hoarse, edged with barely contained urgency. "Tell him... tell him my internal cultivation... has hit a bottleneck, and I need him... to help guide my energy!"

The maid was confused, but seeing how urgent Huang Rong's condition was, she had no time to think. She immediately turned and hurried out.

Huang Rong leaned weakly against the chair behind the desk, gasping for breath.

Her body still trembled uncontrollably from the pain, but deep in her heart, a strange, almost liberating sense of relief arose.

She knew that, in the end, she had bowed to Lin Xuan and to that forbidden craving. But she also knew this was her only way out. For the sake of her failing health, for Xiangyang's precarious situation, and for the greater good, she had to do this.

She struggled to steady her breathing and bring a trace of color back to her pale face, hoping to look calm and hide some of her current embarrassment and distress.

She raised a slender hand and straightened her clothes, disheveled by her struggle, then gently brushed aside a few strands of hair that had fallen across her smooth, full forehead. Over and over, she told herself, almost mechanically: This is only for martial arts, for Xiangyang, for the greater good. Nothing else.

Before long, Lin Xuan hurried into the study, led by the maid.

At once, he saw Huang Rong's face, pale as translucent jade. Her usually vivid lips had lost their color, and her frail body looked ready to collapse at any moment. Concern appeared in Lin Xuan's deep eyes.

"Master! What happened?!" Lin Xuan hurried forward.

Huang Rong forced herself to stand firm and managed to summon a faint smile to her pale face. Her beautiful face, usually as lovely as a hibiscus and strikingly charming, looked even more delicate and pitiable beneath its sickly pallor.

"Xuan'er... you're here." Huang Rong's voice was hoarse, tinged with a dependent, almost pleading note she hadn't even noticed herself. "My internal cultivation... has hit a few bottlenecks lately. My inner breath is unsettled and difficult to calm. I was hoping... I was hoping you could help me again with the 'Primal Essence Return Breath' technique, and guide my inner breath so I can break through."

She seamlessly blamed both her physical condition and her inner demon on a bottleneck in her internal cultivation, and deftly framed Lin Xuan's help as nothing more than guidance. She chose every word with care, trying to make her tone sound calm and natural, as if this were an ordinary discussion of martial arts, entirely unrelated to desire.

Lin Xuan maintained a humble, obedient expression, but inwardly his thoughts roiled!

"Master, you give me too much credit! This disciple will do everything in his power to help you!" Lin Xuan bowed respectfully, his tone firm and sincere.

Huang Rong forced herself to her feet and motioned for Lin Xuan to follow her to the bamboo grove. She didn't choose the safety of the study, nor anywhere a passerby might see them.

Deep in the bamboo grove, that secluded place was the last bastion of her heart and the only place where she dared lower her guard and seek "help."

As they stepped once more onto the secluded path screened by emerald bamboo, the breeze brushed the bamboo leaves with a soft rustle, like a lover whispering in her ear.

Dappled sunlight fell through gaps in the leaves, scattering patches of light across the ground and lending the green world a hazy, dreamlike beauty.

The air was filled with the fresh scent of bamboo leaves, mingled with the dampness of the earth and the faint, orchid-like fragrance that clung to Huang Rong. Everything seemed so still, yet an unsettling hint of intimacy lingered beneath the surface.

Huang Rong walked straight to the center of the pavilion. Instead of sitting as she usually did, she stood tall with her back to Lin Xuan.

She wore a moon-white gauze robe, its material soft and light. The loose garment did nothing to conceal her graceful, curvaceous figure.

Her full, milk-white breasts, her slender waist that seemed narrow enough to encircle with one hand, and her rounded, high-set bottom were faintly visible beneath the light fabric.

She exuded the mature charm and allure unique to a married woman, her bearing graceful and captivating.

Her dark hair was simply pinned up, with a few strands falling playfully beside her snowy-white ears, adding a touch of languid, delicate beauty. Her shapely back and graceful curves seemed alluring by nature.

Huang Rong struggled to steady her chaotic inner breath, trying to make her voice sound calm and natural.

"Xuan'er, my inner breath is unsettled, and I can't calm it on my own. Your 'Primal Essence Return Breath' technique worked very well last time."

She paused, her voice a little stiff, as though deliberately keeping Lin Xuan at a distance.

"Today, I'll have to trouble you again to guide my energy."

She didn't even turn around, afraid that if their eyes met, the memory of that bamboo-grove kiss would return, bringing back the shame that had left her mortified.

Lin Xuan stood a few paces behind her, his gaze resting on her alluring figure. He knew Huang Rong was deliberately keeping her distance, but that was exactly what he needed.

He bowed respectfully. His voice was steady and resonant, carrying a soothing warmth. "Master, you give me too much credit. It's my honor to help ease your burden."

"But... the 'Primal Essence Return Breath' technique relies on the resonance of qi and the joining of minds. To guide your energy more deeply, our breaths will need to be more closely connected. That will make the process twice as effective."

He walked closer, each step measured just right—not hurried, not slow, yet unhesitating.

Huang Rong's body trembled faintly. She could clearly feel Lin Xuan drawing nearer. His youthful, masculine presence, mingled with a faint pine scent, surrounded her like a rising tide.

She instinctively wanted to retreat, but her body seemed pinned in place by an invisible force, unable to move.

Lin Xuan finally stopped behind Huang Rong, less than half a step away. He didn't touch her at once, instead raising both hands as if preparing to do something.

His voice sounded again, touched with a hint of fatigue and sincerity. "Master, when I guided your inner breath last time, I noticed that although your qi was strong, there were a few minor points of stagnation."

"To clear them completely, I'll need to send my inner energy through the acupoints in your back and straight to your heart meridian. That way, I can guide your qi back to its source."

Huang Rong's breathing grew uneven. She knew he was right: guiding qi through the acupoints in the back was a genuine method of internal cultivation. But the close contact made her heart pound and her blood race.

She bit her lower lip. At last, she gave a faint sigh, her voice as soft as a mosquito's buzz. "All right... You... do what you need to."

She slowly closed her eyes, her long lashes quivering like two startled butterflies, betraying the struggle and helplessness within her.

The corner of Lin Xuan's mouth lifted in a barely noticeable smile. He slowly extended his hands. His palms were slightly warm as he gently, yet firmly, placed them against Huang Rong's back.

Her moon-white gauze robe was soft and thin, doing nothing to block the warmth of his palms. He could clearly feel the warmth and smoothness of Huang Rong's skin, as well as the tension and soreness hidden in the muscles of her back.

The Yin Yang Deficit Supplementation Technique instantly awoke like a starving beast, surging through him with a hungry growl. Streams of abundant Primal Yin Energy poured from Huang Rong's body into Lin Xuan's palms like a flood bursting through a dam.

This direct, plentiful absorption was nothing like what he had experienced during the foot bath. Lin Xuan felt warm currents fill every meridian in his body. Every cell seemed to cheer, and his inner energy surged at a speed he had never known before.

At the same time, Lin Xuan channeled a portion of his refined inner energy back to Huang Rong through his palms. This energy carried the nourishing power unique to the Yin Yang Deficit Supplementation Technique, seeping into her meridians like spring rain.

Huang Rong was overcome by a comfort unlike anything she had ever felt. Starting from her back, the stiffness and soreness melted away like snow. A warm, tingling sensation spread downward, relaxing all her muscles. Her body trembled faintly, an instinctive reaction to being overwhelmed by such intense comfort. Even her breathing grew long and deep. It seemed as though every pore was cheering, greedily relishing this strange warmth.

"Master, relax your mind and feel the flow of your inner breath," Lin Xuan said softly. His voice sounded by her ear, soothing and gentle.

He moved his palms slightly downward, resting them where the back of her neck met her spine, at the Dazhui acupoint. Using the distinctive technique of the Yin Yang Deficit Supplementation Technique to channel his inner energy into her body, he combined it with a massage, as if clearing a blocked river.

Huang Rong felt an indescribable heat rise from her back and spread through her whole body. She could clearly feel the inner energy that had stagnated for so long beginning to stir under the guidance of his power, flowing merrily through her meridians once more.

Beneath Lin Xuan's hands, the pale, jade-like curve of Huang Rong's shoulders was almost perfect. Her soft, dark hair spilled between his fingers, carrying a captivating fragrance.

Lin Xuan's palms were pressed against Huang Rong's back. He could clearly feel every bone along her spine and the soft muscles attached to it.

Her body was so shapely and graceful. Even through the light robe, her curves stirred his thoughts. He deliberately controlled the pressure of his hands, keeping his touch gentle, with the faintest hint of teasing.

Huang Rong's pretty face grew increasingly rosy, as if veiled in dew about to fall. She felt the blood rushing faster through her body, while the tingling sensation within her grew stronger. She could clearly feel the warmth and precision of Lin Xuan's fingertips with every touch, like the work of a skilled physician finding the precise source of her pain. Yet the gentle friction through her clothes brought an unfamiliar sensation that made her cheeks burn and her heart race, leaving her weak all over.

When Lin Xuan saw that Huang Rong had relaxed completely and was even unconsciously leaning toward him, he knew the time had come.

He slowly moved his hand downward, gently stroking her slender waist. His fingertips moved with an exploratory, teasing intent, tracing circles and kneading the soft skin at her waist.

"Master, the qi and blood need to flow downward to clear your meridians and relieve your fatigue completely," Lin Xuan explained softly, his voice coaxing and guiding. He slipped his fingers beneath her clothes, touching her tender skin directly.

Huang Rong's body jolted, and her breathing nearly stopped. She felt Lin Xuan's fingers, slightly cool against her skin, pressed directly to her delicate waist. The unprecedented intimacy filled her with shame, yet a strange tingling spread rapidly from her waist like an electric current, rushing through her limbs and leaving her soft, jade-like legs weak.

She tried to tell herself this was only guidance for internal cultivation, only a way to clear her meridians. But the sensation of Lin Xuan's fingertips, that invasive warmth, made it impossible to deceive herself. She felt a hidden pleasure awaken deep inside her. She was ashamed and vexed, yet also strangely drawn into it.

Lin Xuan's fingertips gently stroked her waist. Then his hand slowly slid lower along her slender waist.

At last, with a gentle touch that nevertheless carried an undeniable force, it settled on her high, full, rounded bottom.

Huang Rong's body jolted again, and a stifled moan escaped her, like the sound of a startled little animal. Her cheeks instantly burned crimson, so hot they seemed ready to bleed. She had never imagined Lin Xuan would be so bold as to touch such an intimate, voluptuous part of her body!

His fingertips circled and kneaded the soft, full curves of her bottom, gently yet firmly, sometimes squeezing her.

The sensation was so clear, so invasive, as if it would strip away her reason entirely. She could even feel Lin Xuan's body tense from their extreme closeness. Through their clothes, his solid chest radiated a scorching heat that gradually overwhelmed her senses.

Huang Rong's breathing grew faster and faster, and soft gasps escaped her lips. A longing unlike anything she had ever felt rose from deep within her. The tingling spread from her bottom throughout her body, leaving her weak and making her moan involuntarily. Her mind went blank, shame and pleasure intertwined until she could barely distinguish reality from fantasy. She even began to respond to Lin Xuan's touch, her body moving unconsciously as she sought deeper, more intimate contact.

Time no longer passed in its usual way. To Huang Rong, it felt as if a whole century had passed—and yet as if only a moment had gone by.

She sank into the intense comfort and shame, basking in the forbidden caresses that traveled across her back, waist, and bottom. Her consciousness blurred, almost entirely swallowed by the surging passion.

At last, Lin Xuan felt that the Yin Yang Deficit Supplementation Technique within him had reached a temporary point of saturation.

He slowly withdrew his hands, moving gently and unhurriedly, as if reluctant to let go. The instant his fingertips left Huang Rong's skin, they still remembered its softness, her unique fragrance, and the warmth of her body.

"Haa..." Huang Rong let out a long breath and slowly opened her eyes. Her clear pupils now shone with an unprecedented brightness; all her weariness and fatigue had vanished.

She felt filled with strength. Her inner energy surged like the tide, and her cultivation seemed to have advanced.