Even now, when she recalled the scene from earlier, a trace of terror still crept into her eyes.
It had been too frightening!
She had read in books that dual cultivation between men and women was actually a very brief process. Male cultivators were not that powerful, and were entirely within what women could endure.
Some Hehuan Sect cultivation techniques even stated it clearly: it lasted no longer than the time it took to drink a cup of tea.
But earlier, she had truly experienced a suffocating power. Now, she hardly dared exchange blows with that demon a second time. Even if she did, she would have to find reinforcements.
Otherwise, next time, she would not merely faint. She would die outright.
Inside the boudoir, atop the dressing table.
Black flames still burned over Chu Lian'er's body, clearly visible in the mirror.
The blood-colored mark originally etched between her brows was slowly fading.
And those black flames were precisely what caused it to fade. It likely would not take long before they burned the mark away completely.
By now, how could she not understand? The demon before her truly had no intention of toying with her. Instead, he was saving her.
She could feel the cold aura on her body rapidly receding. That feeling of having no control over her own life would soon vanish without a trace.
Her eyes reddened, and she could not help feeling tears well up. Her earlier bitterness and despair had long since disappeared.
In their place was endless joy.
Lies. Those rumors circulating outside were all false.
Many people in Chang'an said that the demon was cruel and heartless, treating women's lives as mere playthings to trample and ravage at will.
She had even prepared herself to deliberately approach him and be tormented