Ying Wu's expression suddenly turned cold, her eyes glinting with icy menace.
"Fellow Daoist Ye Hua! For the sake of our being fellow cultivators, and since you gifted me a rare spiritual medicine like the Bodhi Spirit Stamen, I do not wish to fall out with you. But I ask that you show some respect."
After speaking, Ying Wu seemed to feel that she had still been insulted. The anger in her heart remained difficult to quell, so she added,
"Originally, I thought you were different from those mediocre fools. Who would have thought that all crows under heaven were black alike—equally lustful men obsessed with appearances."
Song Wen seemed to have anticipated Ying Wu's reaction long ago. He neither grew angry at her rebuke nor became dejected at her rejection.
"The love of beauty is common to all. I admit that upon first seeing you, Fellow Daoist, I was stunned as if beholding a celestial being. But..."
Song Wen looked directly at Ying Wu. His gaze was upright and clear, his tone unhurried, every word distinct.
"To find one of a single heart, and grow old without ever parting!"
"What I admire is far more than your immortal grace and jade-like beauty. It is also your persistence in the immortal path, and your ingenious ideas for raising demonic beasts."
"Beauty is like spring blossoms—there will come a day when it withers. But your breathtaking brilliance will surely shine forever, illuminating the ages!"
The frost in Ying Wu's eyes suddenly trembled, like a cold pool reflecting the moon, brushed by a wisp of spring breeze and stirred into ripples so faint they were almost imperceptible.
Yet those ripples vanished in an instant, and the pool froze over once more.
At that moment, Song Wen suddenly slapped the black spirit beast