Han Lingxuan was left standing there in a daze.
Her body burned, and her cheeks flushed scarlet.
They looked almost ready to drip blood.
I... I was kissed?
That devil forced a kiss on me?
What on earth was going on?
Didn't that devil despise women?
Why would he do this?
She ground her teeth, unable to make sense of it no matter how hard she thought.
Her heart brimmed with grief and indignation!
She was a princess consort!
When had anyone ever humiliated her like this?
And... she had delivered herself to his doorstep.
Han Lingxuan glanced sideways and noticed several Demon Cult disciples watching from a distance.
Understanding immediately dawned on her.
His impotence was the devil's absolute taboo.
He had been hiding that secret all these years.
Just now, the devil must have noticed the guards nearby.
That was why he had swallowed his disgust and maintained his facade.
But...
It was simply too mortifying.
And why was her body burning so fiercely?
That was the devil!
Could it... could it be because I'd been imprisoned for three years?
Her thoughts tangled like a skein of hemp.
There were damp patches on her skirt.
Her face alternated between pale and red!
Her body trembled!
"Although I failed to kill that devil just now, I managed to disgust him. I've planted an inner demon in his heart. Sooner or later, his cultivation will run wild."
The princess consort clenched her teeth, and much of her sense of having lost out faded.
She even felt she had come out slightly ahead.
"Tonight, the devil will come looking for me again. That will be my best opportunity. I'll seduce him even more boldly then. I'll surely have my revenge!"
Another perfect plan took shape.
The princess consort was utterly confident.
She was just about to return to the Devil Palace's rear courtyard.
The White Snow Lion Cat that had been lying in her arms began yowling in heat again.
Its glasslike eyes grew increasingly resentful.
Even a little... jealous.
Meeting her cat's gaze, the princess consort felt inexplicably guilty.
[You smacked your lips, a sweet fragrance filling your nose as wicked thoughts immediately arose in your heart. With such a graceful figure, if you pulled out her hairpin and grabbed her silken hair...]
The narrator's voice rang out again.
Fang Yang could not be bothered with it. He merely watched the watery screen slowly unfurl before him.
Name: Fang Yang Marriage affinity: 1
"What is this marriage affinity thing? Could it be a cheat?"
He frowned and pondered for a long time, but found no answers. Finally, he simply shook his head and continued toward the grand hall.
Right now, he had no time to concern himself with any of this.
His eldest disciple, the God-Shocking Sword, Ye Qinghong!
He had traveled a thousand miles back to the cult.
It certainly was not out of filial devotion.
He wanted to probe Fang Yang's true condition.
His ability to fool the Princess Consort of the Southern Pacifying King just now had not been solely due to his superb acting.
The most important reason was that she was a mortal.
She had never cultivated.
She could not sense the changes in him at all.
But as far as he knew, his eldest disciple possessed astonishing talent.
He had a swordborn physique!
Cold by nature, he had always kept to himself.
He paid no heed to worldly affairs and devoted himself only to the sword.
Over the years, apart from obeying Fang Yang's orders.
To descend the mountain, kill people, and destroy sects.
He spent all his remaining time training relentlessly in his own Sword Hall.
At barely twenty-four, he had already brought the heaven-tier God-Shocking Sword technique to the realm of perfection!
The Universe Continent abounded with masters.
The martial world of the Tang Kingdom had three rankings: Heaven, Earth, and Human.
Ye Qinghong was the youngest expert on the Heaven Ranking, and he ranked ninth!
His intuition was keen to the utmost.
He might very well detect the changes in Fang Yang immediately.
"Looks like I'll have to pass through the gates of hell this time."
Muttering to himself, Fang Yang walked toward the grand hall.
Inside the grand hall.
Ye Qinghong waited quietly, dressed in a blue-green robe and blue-green cloth shoes, with a blue-green longsword strapped to his back.
His hair was simply pinned up with a bamboo hairpin.
Naturally, the bamboo hairpin was blue-green too.
Despite his plain, simple attire, his breathtakingly beautiful face remained impossible to conceal.
He was like snow in the depths of winter.
So beautiful it shook the soul, so cold it chilled the heart.
At that moment, he sat serenely in a chair to the left of the hall.
It was the chair closest to the central throne.
It belonged exclusively to him, the Demon Venerable's eldest disciple.
He closed his eyes, neither arrogant nor impatient.
He merely waited for his master's arrival.
Inwardly, he continued reciting the God-Shocking Sword Art.
The blue-green longsword behind him trembled faintly.
Wisps of Sword Qi drifted from it.
Like a gentle breeze through a bamboo grove.
Throughout his life, he had loved only the sword.
He was a true swordsman.
In his eyes, even when a sword remained sheathed in its case.
It still needed constant honing.
Only then could it easily sever a head when the time came to kill.
With the mirrorwater sword heart he cultivated each day.
He should have been able to settle into stillness easily at that moment.
But today, for some unknown reason, he felt restless.
Before he had even begun honing his sword heart, he had already opened his eyes several times.
"What exactly is wrong?"
He examined himself over and over.
Eventually, he discovered that a red petal had somehow stuck to the sleeve of his robe.
Before you continue