Demoness, You Want to Take My Virginity?

The clapper sounded, and the temple gates were locked. The monks gradually retired for the night.

The whole of Shaolin lay beneath the mountain's shadow like a crouching beast, utterly silent. Only the footsteps of the night-watch monks echoed through the temple.

Zhu Yingxiong had changed into grayish-brown clothes. Soundlessly, he slipped out and melded into the night.

From his memories, he knew every path in the temple and every gap between guard rotations.

After several flickering turns through the shadows, he had passed the layers of halls and pavilions and arrived beneath a secluded wall on the western side of the temple.

With the lightest touch of his toes against the wall bricks, he rose as though carried by a breeze and silently cleared the ten-foot temple wall.

He lingered in the shadow by the wall for a moment. Once he had confirmed no one was following him, he darted straight down the mountain.

At midnight, Mount Song was steeped in darkness as thick as ink.

The night wind swept through the woods, carrying the faint sound of watchmen's clappers from the foot of the mountain.

By the faint moonlight, Zhu Yingxiong leaped through the mountains. The only sounds in his ears were his own footsteps and the occasional hoot of a night owl.

About half an hour later, a tenant farmer's small courtyard emerged from the darkness at the foot of the mountain.

Its earthen walls were low and peeling, its roof thatched. From the outside, it looked no different from the desolate farmhouses around it.

Only a large windproof lantern outside the wall was lit.

As Zhu Yingxiong approached the house, he saw that the wooden door was tightly shut, leaving only a nearly invisible crack through which a sliver of light spilled.

Zhu Yingxiong stopped before the door, where the earthen wall's shadow swallowed him whole.

His senses had become increasingly sharp due to his innate true qi, allowing him to catch an elegant fragrance drifting through the air, mixed with a faint cloying sweetness. It was like ripe honeydew melon, carrying a trace of temptation that invited one to sink into ruin.

Without knocking, he pushed the door open and walked inside.

The instant he entered, warmth and an exotic fragrance washed over him like a tide.

Candles were lit inside. On a long rosewood table stood a silver candlestick, three red candles burning brightly and illuminating the center of the room, while making the shadows in its four corners seem even deeper.

At the brightest spot stood a broad bed draped in gauze curtains.

A graceful figure in purple lay languidly across it.

Her purple gauze robe, thin as cicada wings, had slipped loosely from her shoulders, exposing a large expanse of dazzlingly white, smooth skin, glowing enticingly beneath the candlelight.

Her skirt had ridden up messily to the roots of her thighs. Two long, straight legs with perfect lines were crossed together, her ankles slender and her toes rounded like shells, curling slightly in an absent-minded invitation.

Hearing the door open, she turned her face toward him.

It was a face of bewitching beauty, the corners of her eyes slightly upturned, as if mist lingered in her gaze, while her lips were crimson without makeup.

Her black hair was spread over the pillow, several strands clinging to the side of her sweat-dampened neck, adding an extra touch of decadent allure.

She looked at Zhu Yingxiong, and the corner of her lips slowly curved into an expression that was half reproachful, half smiling.

"The wind is so cold. Hurry and close the door." Every smile and frown was utterly captivating.

Zhu Yingxiong obediently reached back and shut the door.

The seductive woman extended a slender jade hand painted with pale nail polish, lightly pointing toward the bed.

"Why are you standing there in a daze, junior brother? Come over already."

As she moved, her enchanting curves rose and fell. Her entire body seemed to radiate boundless allure, and Zhu Yingxiong's heart stirred with an urge to approach her, even to sink into her.

Just then—

The thread of innate true qi in his dantian suddenly stirred, and the Muscle-Tendon Transformation Scripture began circulating on its own.

An icy-cool breath rose in his mind, like enlightenment pouring over his head, instantly clearing his thoughts.

What formidable seduction arts!

Her breathing, her movements, even the fragrance filling the room—all had become weapons, seeping into a person's very bones. If not for the Muscle-Tendon Transformation Scripture, he would nearly have fallen for it.

The Yingui Sect had actually sent a demoness skilled in such arts?

As his thoughts raced, Zhu Yingxiong swiftly adjusted his expression. A trace of confusion and desire passed through his eyes at just the right moment. He stepped forward as instructed, stopping three feet from the bed.

"May I ask which senior sister this is?"

"My name is Lan Chan'er." The woman on the bed laughed softly, her eyes shifting as she looked him up and down. When she saw the burning desire in Zhu Yingxiong's gaze, a flash of barely concealed contempt passed through her eyes.

"Junior brother, you have suffered greatly, infiltrating Shaolin alone and enduring for so many years. It is rare for us to meet tonight. Since we both serve the Sacred Gate, we should properly... get close."

As she spoke, she actually rose of her own accord. Her soft body slipped out through the gauze curtains like a boneless snake, and she reached out with a jade hand to seize Zhu Yingxiong's wrist without allowing any refusal. Her touch was warm, soft, and smooth, carrying a scorching body heat.

"To restore the Sacred Gate's former glory, such minor hardships are not worth mentioning." Zhu Yingxiong let her pull him down to sit on the edge of the bed, his gaze "greedily" clinging to her body.

The contempt in Lan Chan'er's eyes seemed to deepen. She lifted her jade hand, pressing it against Zhu Yingxiong's chest, then slowly pushed him backward onto the soft brocade bedding.

Zhu Yingxiong was "forced" to lie back. His gaze inevitably traveled upward, taking in a breathtaking expanse of nearly uncovered, creamy-white skin that dazzled beneath the candlelight. Mixed with the increasingly rich sweet fragrance, it assaulted every one of his senses.

"Junior brother, did you bring the Muscle-Tendon Transformation Scripture?" Lan Chan'er bent down, their faces directly opposite each other and less than a foot apart. Her breath was fragrant, her hot exhalation brushing across his face.

"Of course I brought it." Zhu Yingxiong appeared somewhat dazed by the fragrance, his breathing slightly hurried as he slowly reached into his robes and took out the copied volume of the Muscle-Tendon Transformation Scripture.

Joy flashed through Lan Chan'er's eyes. Even her breathing quickened involuntarily, and the rise and fall of her chest became more pronounced. She eagerly reached out to seize the secret manual.

Yet Zhu Yingxiong drew his hand back, evading her. At the same time, he raised his eyes and looked at the seductive face so close to him with a "dazed" gaze. "This junior brother has obeyed orders and remained undercover, never daring to slacken in the slightest. After this, does the sect have any further instructions?"

The smile on Lan Chan'er's face became even sweeter and more intoxicating, with a hint of coquettish reproach. "Naturally, the sect leader has instructions. And there is an enormous reward for you as well~"

Before her words had faded, she twisted her waist and flipped over to straddle Zhu Yingxiong! Softness and astonishing elasticity pressed down on him at once.

One hand remained on his chest, while the other swiftly snatched the copied volume of the Muscle-Tendon Transformation Scripture into her grasp!

The moment the manual was in her hand, Lan Chan'er's smile blossomed. Wild joy and triumph nearly overflowed from her eyes.

"Now..." She lowered herself, her red lips nearly brushing his ear. Her breath was scorching, and her voice sickeningly sweet. "Let senior sister... reward you properly, shall I?"

As she spoke, she began slowly untying the fastenings of her already exceedingly loose gauze robe, intending to reveal that already stunning sight completely. Her movements were unhurried, full of blatant suggestion.

"So eager..." Zhu Yingxiong spoke then, his voice calm without the slightest ripple. "Do you want to harvest my virgin yang?"

"You—!" The alluringly sweet smile on Lan Chan'er's face froze instantly, and her expression changed dramatically. No longer thinking of harvesting his essence, the force in the palm pressed against Zhu Yingxiong's chest surged forth, intending to shatter his heart meridians and kill him at once.

But it was already too late.

Pfft!

Lan Chan'er cried out as if struck by a heavy hammer and was violently blasted off the bed! With a bang, she crashed heavily onto the cold Persian carpet several feet away, rolling another half turn before finally stopping.

"Ugh... ah..." She spat out a large mouthful of blood, her face instantly turning as pale as gold paper. She clutched her lower abdomen over her dantian tightly, where her qi was in chaotic turmoil, boiling wildly. She had clearly suffered a grave injury.

With difficulty, she raised her head. Her hair was disheveled, blood stained her lips, and her once-bewitching face was twisted by pain and disbelief as she stared fixedly at the bed.

Zhu Yingxiong slowly sat up and calmly brushed the rumpled front of his robes. Not a trace of his earlier confusion or desire remained in his eyes. Candlelight flickered in his pupils, yet there was not a shred of warmth within them.