Ning Rongrong Sneaks a Peek at Dual Cultivation, and Xue Qinghe Hears It

Fang Fan said nothing. He merely curved his lips into a faint smile.

The auras of the Netherworld Saint Tiger and the Hell Spirit Cat King spread from the two of them at once. A dark-blue Tiger Shadow and a deep-blue Cat Shadow met in midair, twining together until they seemed to melt into one.

Energy surged wildly through the room, as though the vital energy of the entire Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect were gathering there.

Moonlight spilled across the room. The brocade quilt grew slightly rumpled.

The deep-blue Cat Shadow and dark-blue Tiger Shadow circled and intertwined. As their auras merged, Soul Power surged like a tide. The two Martial Souls complemented each other, and their cultivation quietly rose.

Ning Rongrong tossed and turned, unable to sleep.

The image of Fang Fan blasting Yu Tianheng away with one punch and defeating Liu Erlong with a single Soul Skill kept replaying in her mind. Most of all, she remembered him standing with his hands behind his back, looking down into the pit. He had been so handsome it made her heart tremble.

Unable to resist, she slipped out of bed and crept from her room. She wanted to say a few more words to Fang Fan, or at least see him again.

Before she reached his room, she sensed a powerful wave of energy.

It rolled outward in surges, while vital energy from every direction rushed toward the room. It was as though the entire Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect had been drained of spiritual energy.

A strange aura filled the air, the distinctive pulse given off when Martial Souls merged.

"This is..."

Ning Rongrong froze, then crept over to the window.

A thin layer of paper covered it. After a moment's hesitation, she poked a tiny hole with her finger and leaned in to look.

Moonlight streamed through the window lattice, revealing two figures entwined inside.

The deep-blue Cat Shadow and dark-blue Tiger Shadow circled and merged in midair. The auras of their Martial Souls rose and fell in a rhythm like breathing.

Their Soul Power mingled in a way utterly unlike ordinary soul masters' cultivation, as though even their souls were intertwined.

Ning Rongrong's eyes widened. She clapped a hand over her mouth, nearly crying out.

Her face flushed all the way down her neck—

So this... this was Spirit Fusion Dual Cultivation?

So this was what Dai Mubai meant when he said Zhu Zhuqing had only grown stronger after getting together with Fang Fan?

When they cultivated like this, their Martial Souls merged and their souls nourished each other. No wonder Zhu Zhuqing's cultivation had advanced so quickly.

She told herself to leave, to turn around and run back at once. Yet her eyes seemed fixed to that hole in the window paper. She could not look away.

Zhu Zhuqing's figure was stunning. Even Ning Rongrong, a woman herself, could not tear her eyes from those graceful curves and the soft glow of her fair skin in the moonlight.

And Fang Fan—her gaze settled on him, and she swallowed hard.

His eight-pack was sharply defined, his muscles firm and lean, brimming with strength. He was so handsome, so powerful.

Her heart hammered, her face burned, and her breathing grew unsteady.

An image rose unbidden in her mind: herself in Zhu Zhuqing's place, entwined with the Netherworld Saint Tiger.

What would it feel like for the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda to merge with the Netherworld Saint Tiger?

The thought alone made her heart pound so hard she thought it might leap out of her chest.

How embarrassing! Since when had she, Ning Rongrong, become like this?

At last, she could bear it no longer. She spun around, gathered up her skirt, and stumbled back to her room. Diving beneath her soft brocade quilt, she buried her burning face in the pillow.

But whenever she closed her eyes, all she saw was what she had glimpsed through the window.

The Netherworld Saint Tiger and the Hell Spirit Cat King twined and merged in her mind again and again. She could not shake the image.

"Ning Rongrong, what are you thinking...?"

She mumbled into her pillow, her face red enough to boil an egg.

That night, the little princess of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect tossed and turned until dawn, unable to sleep.

Ning Rongrong lay with her face buried in the pillow, her mind full of what she had seen through that tiny hole. Her heart beat so fast it felt ready to leap into her throat.

Meanwhile, in the room beside Fang Fan's, someone else was just as unsettled by the commotion.

It was late at night when Xue Qinghe returned from Ning Fengzhi's study.

He and Ning Fengzhi had spoken in private for a long time. The delicate relationship between the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect and the Heaven Dou Empire demanded constant attention, and some things could only be said behind closed doors in the dead of night.

He walked along the corridor toward his room, his moon-white robe gleaming coolly under the moonlight. His steps were light and silent.

As he pushed open his door, he suddenly stopped.

A strange fluctuation of Soul Power came from the room next door. It was nothing like ordinary cultivation. It rose and fell in waves, sometimes fierce as breakers crashing against the shore, sometimes gentle as a stream. Two utterly different Martial Soul auras wound through the air and permeated each other. Each time they met, the vital energy throughout the little building shuddered.

Xue Qinghe stood frozen in the doorway, his slender fingers still resting on the frame.

He knew, of course, that it was Fang Fan and Zhu Zhuqing's room.

The Netherworld Saint Tiger's overpowering aura tangled with the Hell Spirit Cat King's cold, piercing one. It was more frightening than it had been on the training ground that day, and more—

Fervent.

He could even faintly hear what sounded like Zhu Zhuqing's stifled moan.

Xue Qinghe gently shut the door and leaned against it. In the darkness, his breathing grew noticeably uneven.

He remembered a Spirit Hall intelligence report mentioning that Fang Fan and Zhu Zhuqing seemed to share an unusual method of cultivation, one that let them improve together by merging their Martial Souls.

At the time, he had only glanced at it and thought no more of it.

But the strength of those Soul Power fluctuations far exceeded anything he had imagined—

Both Martial Soul auras had grown noticeably stronger in a short span of time. The efficiency of their cultivation was staggering.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, his slender fingers unconsciously gripping the quilt.

The Soul Power fluctuations next door continued. The Netherworld Saint Tiger's dark, domineering aura intertwined with the Hell Spirit Cat's cold sharpness. Even through the wall, he could faintly sense the distinctive aura of their merging Martial Souls, and his heart began to beat faster.

Blood rushed through his veins faster than usual. An inexplicable heat spread from deep within him, warming even his fingertips.

Couldn't those two choose another time to cultivate?

He lay awake in the dark, listening to every sound from next door. His throat moved as he swallowed.

How exactly did Spirit Fusion Dual Cultivation work? What sort of technique could merge not only two people's Soul Power, but their very souls so deeply?

With cultivation that fast, it was no wonder Zhu Zhuqing had soared from level twenty-six to above level thirty in just a few months. No wonder Fang Fan had reached the rank of Soul Emperor at such a young age.

He could not help shifting closer to the wall and pressing his ear against its cool surface, trying to hear more clearly.

His breathing became audible in the silent room.

On the other side of the wall, the Soul Power fluctuations continued to climb. The Netherworld Saint Tiger's Tiger's Roar and the Hell Spirit Cat's soft cry answered each other, as though two utterly different forces were searching for a perfect balance.

The candle remained unlit. Moonlight slipped through the window lattice and fell across his handsome, gentle face.

In the darkness, a rare, unreadable look surfaced in his usually composed eyes.