Ning Rongrong Takes the Initiative to Fuse Martial Souls with Fang Fan...
Skywater Academy
Ning Rongrong had been holding back her frustration for several days, and finally, one evening, she got her chance.
Zhu Zhuqing was invited by Shui Yunlian to exchange cultivation experiences of the Nether Civet Martial Soul. Dugu Yan followed Shui Yue'er to see the Ice Crystal Medicine Field of the Skywater Academy. Xiao Wu still leaned against the icicle by the pavilion every day, lost in thought.
And Shui Bing'er —the ice beauty she feared most—
I was tied up with academy affairs, dealing with the entrance examinations for a new batch of students.
Ning Rongrong checked several times from the shadows before tiptoeing to Fang Fan's door.
She took a deep breath and raised her hand to knock on the door.
The door opened.
Fang Fan stood in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe, wearing only a thin white shirt with the collar slightly open, revealing a small section of his well-defined chest below his collarbone. He glanced at Ning Rongrong, a slight smile playing on his lips.
"What's wrong so late?"
Ning Rongrong didn't answer. She simply slipped under his arm, closed the door behind her, and bolted it shut. She turned and leaned against the door, her pink skirt swaying slightly in the candlelight. Her bright eyes were fixed on Fang Fan, her face filled with a do-or-die determination.
"Fang Fan, I don't care about who came first or who came last, and I don't care about Shui Bing'er or Shui Yue'er anymore."
I'll just ask you one question—can my Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda be fused with your Spirit Fusion Dual Cultivation?
She took two steps forward, now just an arm's length away from Fang Fan.
Today, she specially changed into a more fitted pink belted long dress than usual, with delicate glass patterns embroidered on the neckline, which perfectly outlined her slender waist and her beginnings of a well-developed figure.
She looked up, and the phantom of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda appeared in her palm. The light of the Nine Treasures Glazed Pagoda illuminated the room, making even the candlelight dim.
Fang Fan looked at the little princess in front of him, who had mustered all her courage, at the radiant Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda in her palm, and at her trembling yet unyielding demeanor. His smile deepened.
He didn't answer directly, but simply reached out and took her hand back from the one that was holding the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda.
The eerie aura of the Netherworld Saint Tiger overflowed from his palm, tentatively probing towards the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda.
The glazed light of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda met the Mo Lan evil aura of the Netherworld Saint Tiger in mid-air. The Light of Support and the power of Destruction touched gently, without fierce repulsion. Instead, it was like a pebble thrown into a lake, rippling out gentle and profound waves.
"Compatibility,"
Fang Fan took her hand.
"Good."
"Let's begin!"
Before Ning Rongrong could finish speaking, she jumped up, wrapped her arms around Fang Fan's neck, and wrapped her legs around his waist.
Her delicate face suddenly drew closer, a resolute glint flashing in her bright eyes, and then—she kissed him.
Her thin, delicate cherry lips clumsily pressed against Fang Fan's lips, lacking any skill whatsoever, yet carrying a reckless and brute force.
She had previously peeked through the window paper to watch Fang Fan and Zhu Zhuqing Spirit Fusion Dual Cultivation. The image of eight-pack abs intertwined with the shadowy blue Cat Shadow under the moonlight that night had swirled in her mind countless times; she thought that was the entirety of Spirit Fusion Dual Cultivation.
When you hug and kiss each other, your Soul Power naturally increases.
Fang Fan was taken aback by this sudden "attack," and felt the girl's clumsy yet passionate touch on his lips, carrying a faint fragrance of Osmanthus.
Ning Rongrong is really something else, completely different from her usual arrogant little princess self. He reached out to support her waist to prevent her from slipping off him, turned his face slightly to the side, and said helplessly:
"Where did you learn this? Spirit Fusion Dual Cultivation isn't done like this."
"Then how do we do it?"
Ning Rongrong clung to him, refusing to get down, her face flushed red enough to boil an egg, yet she remained defiant.
"I saw you and Zhu Zhuqing like that before—hugging each other, and then—"
That's just the surface.
Fang Fan carried her to the bedside and sat down, letting her straddle his lap, his hands supporting her waist.
Her waist was very slender, and through the thin pink dress, one could feel the warmth of her skin and a slight shiver.
He gently pulled her hands down from his neck, took her hands in his, and placed them on their knees, interlocking their fingers.
The aura of the Netherworld Saint Tiger slowly overflowed from her palm, and the eerie Mo Lan light probed into Ning Rongrong's body like threads.
Ning Rongrong's body trembled violently. The strange and domineering power entered her meridians for the first time, bringing a strange sensation of numbness and tingling. Her breathing became disordered, and she pressed her forehead against Fang Fan's shoulder, letting out a muffled groan.
"Close your eyes and feel the resonance of your Martial Soul."
The Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda is Light of Support; there's no need to clash head-on with the Netherworld Saint Tiger. Use your glazed light to envelop my Soul Power, instead of resisting it."
Fang Fan's voice was deep and steady, as if he were instructing her on a basic cultivation technique, but his hands had already slowly moved up from her waist, gently pressing along the curve of her spine to adjust her posture and breathing.
Ning Rongrong closed her eyes and did as instructed.
The Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda emerged from her palm. The glazed light no longer scattered in all directions as before, but instead flowed towards Fang Fan like water under her guidance.
The Light of Support and the Destructive Evil Breath collided, tested, and mingled between the two, each touch making Ning Rongrong's breathing quicken.
Her fingertips trembled slightly in Fang Fan's palm, and a small patch of her thin pink dress was damp with fine sweat.
Her heart was pounding like a drum, and she felt as if a fire was burning inside her, yet an unprecedented sense of fulfillment surged up from the deepest part of her Martial Soul.
The evil aura of the Netherworld Saint Tiger and the glazed light of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda finally found that delicate balance.
The two forces converged within her body, forming a complete loop. They flowed from Fang Fan into her and back from her to Fang Fan, each loop tempering her meridians and Soul Power.
The instant the two beams of light completely merged, Ning Rongrong suddenly tilted her head back, letting out a soft moan she couldn't suppress.
Her Soul Power burst through the barrier like a dam breaking.
Level 28!
The Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda spun in her palm, and the glazed patterns on the pagoda became more intricate and exquisite than before. The pagoda, which originally had only seven stories, faintly revealed the shadow of an eighth story. Although it was not yet solidified, its basic shape could already be seen.
Ning Rongrong's hands trembled with excitement as she looked down at the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda in her palm, her eyes filled with disbelief.
Not only has my Soul Power increased, but the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda itself has also become stronger!
Without saying a word, she pounced on him again, hugging Fang Fan tightly and refusing to let go, her voice soft and urgent:
"One more time! One more time!"
I feel like I'm just a hair's breadth away from touching the edge of the eighth floor!
Fang Fan let her do as she pleased.
The second integration went much more smoothly than the first. Ning Rongrong was already quite perceptive, and after tasting success, she became even more dedicated.
When everything returned to calm, Ning Rongrong lay beside him.
She felt so comfortable that she couldn't even lift a finger; her pink dress was already wrinkled.
The stray hairs on his forehead were damp with sweat and clung to his cheeks.