Chapter 114: Lavender Scent

Ever since his rebirth, He Yimo had never given up studying certain demonic cultivation arts from his past life.

Mo Yuyan became his free daily experimental subject.

Of course, he wouldn’t truly inflict demonic corruption marks on her. The original novel didn’t even have a favorability system—let alone adult content. Besides, he lacked both the technique and the audacity to corrupt the Sword Saint herself.

Currently, all formations he carved on Mo Yuyan were for beneficial effects.

Take the Blood Lotus engraved on her sole. Though it looked improper, it functioned as a minor regulator.

He Yimo had tested this on Jiang Jinyou before, but back then his skills and cultivation were low—he only managed a single petal. Now, he could stably draw the entire lotus.
Through this lotus regulator, he could regulate her meridians and qi. Since today’s lotus was on her sole, it mainly eased thigh fatigue.

The Blood Lotus didn’t have to be on the feet—it could be placed anywhere on limbs. He chose the sole because:
1. Stealth: Feet are sensitive but rarely trained defensively, making the mark easy to implant.
2. Access: Feet are convenient during massage sessions.
3. Concealment: No one scrutinizes their own soles—unless Mo Yuyan suddenly developed a hobby of examining them for hours.

Beyond basic regulation, the lotus had advanced uses. For example, he could draw one on his palm, linking it to Mo Yuyan’s.
This link allowed:
– Shared Spiritual Energy: If she needed energy, he could channel it through the lotus.
– Energy Drain (Theoretical): He could forcibly siphon her energy, but… he wouldn’t dare.

Still, he secretly tested infusing his energy into her during massages. Sometimes,借助 (leveraging) the numbing effects of the paste, he’d inject spiritual energy and sword intent into her body.
Sure enough, that night she felt tingling in her feet. By day two, she felt lighter and praised his effectiveness—identical to Jiang Jinyou’s reaction. After refinements, the lotus no longer oversensitized the feet. Mo Yuyan showed no such symptoms.

Emboldened, He Yimo massaged her jade feet with increasing confidence.
“Mmph—!”
As nerves intensified, she let out a delicate moan.
But pride stifled her voice—she muffled it into the pillow.

Since she didn’t protest, he assumed she could tolerate more. He channeled spiritual energy to nourish the tiny Blood Lotus on her sole.
His touch remained gentle, yet the softer he was, the more her arch tensed, her long legs trembling beneath the dress.

Though he couldn’t see her face, recalling Jiang Jinyou’s reaction, he imagined Mo Yuyan now flushed, breaths hitching.
But again—Mo Yuyan wouldn’t speak; he wouldn’t acknowledge.

He had self-control, unlike with Jiang Jinyou. Now, his goal was research—exploring the lotus’s potential.
His technique alternated between conservative and teasing.
He hovered just before her breaking point, then eased when she nearly cried out. When she thought relief came, he’d target her sole’s sensitive points with relentless caresses…

After several cycles, Mo Yuyan lay face-down, buried in the pillow, breaths ragged. Though her moans were stifled, her willpower held. If she could endure, she saw no need to embarrass herself by stopping.

Result? The massage dragged on far longer than expected.
Endurance once bought minutes; later, seconds. By the tenth, twentieth near-breakpoint… her spirit waned. Sweat soaked her as she panted, utterly drained.

“Senior Sister… Senior Sister?”
Seeing her near collapse, He Yimo dared not continue. Everyone had limits—one more touch might shatter her composure. If she cried out, future massages would be off-limits.

He withdrew his spiritual energy. One hand cradled her foot; the other traced the glowing Blood Lotus, pressing it back into her skin.
As the lotus faded, his experiment ended.

The moment his fingertips left her sole, both feet shot up reflexively—
“S—mph!”
He Yimo started speaking, but her toes abruptly covered his mouth.
Startled by the moisture, the feet recoiled like startled birds.

Mo Yuyou sat up, hand over her mouth, face crimson. Even she seemed shocked by her own reaction.
She’d felt like a wound-up spring. When he’d almost finished, she’d endured—until his fingers left. A sudden spasm made her lift her leg… right into his mouth.

“S-sorry…”
Flustered, she hid her flushed feet under the covers.
Enduring so long… only for this final mishap! She’d embarrassed herself more than if she’d cried out earlier. Her swordmaster reputation was tarnished.

“I’m fine… it’s nothing…”
He Yimo covered his mouth, subtly swallowing. He waved it off.

He’d been restrained. Many demonic arts from his original knowledge remained unused. Those with invasive properties? Too risky—Mo Yuyou might sense the corruption and kill him. No reason to harm a kind senior sister.

He thought teasing her near the edge was enough. Though she was burning inside, her body found comfort. If only she’d… not reacted when he stopped.

Thankfully, she’d washed her feet. The paste left only a faint lavender scent on his lips—nothing strange.

If he could, he’d find a willing test subject—no moral burden—to fully experiment with demonic arts, drain their cultivation, and turn them into his personal energy source.
Certainly not Mo Yuyan.
Jiang Jinyou? A possibility—but she had life-saving tricks, including large-scale Abyssal Illusions. Better to stay low until he outcultivated her by two realms.

Sighing…

“Let’s pretend that didn’t happen…”

“Senior Sister, how does the new technique feel?”
Mo Yuyan still panted.

Under his ministrations, she’d been teased to the brink for so long, her spirit was utterly exhausted.

“Was it uncomfortable?”
He feigned concern, sitting beside her to observe her lingering blush.

She turned away, eyes flustered, fixed on her hidden toes.

After a steadying breath:
“It was… pleasant. Just stronger than usual.”

“My apologies, Senior Sister. I’ll be gentler next time.”

At “gentler,” her body tensed, face flushing. Her feet clenched under the covers.

“N-no need! Keep it like this…”
She rejected hastily. Even she found it odd—his gentleness only made her itch, her ears burn, nearly clawing at herself at the peak.

And when he stopped, her body spasmed!

Was this proof of his mastery?

She resolved to consult Mu Yanran after he left—about this and other strange phenomena.

“Very well. Tell me if it’s uncomfortable, or just say stop…”

“Otherwise, I can’t gauge your sensitivity…”

He covered his mouth, licking the lingering lavender scent off his lips.

Mo Yuyan noticed.
Feet weren’t sensitive before… but now his lips made her heat up. She wanted to call him a pervert… but she wasn’t much better. Who reacts uncontrollably to a foot massage?

If she hadn’t kicked… his mouth wouldn’t have tasted… anything.
She couldn’t fault him.

“It’s fine…”

“Don’t blame you, Junior Brother… it was comfortable…”

“That was an accident! Don’t dwell on it or mention it again!”
She drew a sharp breath, feigning nonchalance, but her eyes glared fiercely.

He Yimo nodded—then licked his lips again.
She noticed.
She flushed but suppressed it.

Pulling the covers aside, she examined her still-warm, sensitive feet.

Setting aside shame, she was impressed.
He Yimo was versatile—clever at Go, sword talent, skilled in medicine and massage!

“Don’t worry, Senior Sister! I tasted nothing!”
“As long as you’re comfortable. The massage techniques? Just basics from my aunt.”

He smiled innocently.
The Blood Lotus formation—implanted in meridians—was far more precise than normal massage. An hour of conventional pressing might not achieve what this spiritual microsurgery did.

“You still—!”
Mo Yuyan nearly flushed again. She knew he provoked her but stayed silent. Experience taught her ignoring his jabs was best.

“Senior Sister, you’ve been stuck at Nascent Soul for years…”

“I’ve been researching ancient body cultivation texts. Excess spiritual energy crystallizes in the dantian, burdening the body if not used. Once crystallized, it’s hard to refine, blocking further breakthroughs…”
“I’ve learned a formation to scatter these crystals and extract excess energy—perhaps easing your bottleneck.”

He shifted his gaze from her feet, rubbing his nose.
Now even that gesture felt suggestive to her! His hands… her scent…

But such thoughts stayed internal.

“I know this principle. Senior Sister Mu advised more outings too.”

“Agreed. High realm cultivators need daily consumption to avoid stagnation…”
Mo Yuyan composed herself, dismissing odd thoughts.
Staying on Soot-Stained Peak did cause anxiety.

“What’s your plan?”
“A new formation—scattering dantian crystals, extracting surplus energy before it solidifies…”
He spoke earnestly.
Technically, crystallized energy is harder to refine. Dispersing it externally aids breakthroughs.

But Mo Yuyan wasn’t truly stagnating. Her daily sword practice and the life-or-death battle with Gu Wanglan had long burned away excess crystals. He Yimo’s real goals:
1. Test the spiritual energy-draining demonic art.
2. “Leach” her energy for the upcoming Cangyuan Forest battles.

“Logical. Matches Senior Sister Mu’s advice.”
She nodded, convinced. Her progress had always been rapid—only the Nascent Soul bottleneck recently stalled. She’d try anything helpful that trusted him suggested.

“How should I assist?”
“I may need to place my hands on your dantian…”
“?!”

***

As the monthly Demoness Tea Party convened, the long Western-style banquet table filled with members from distant lands. “Demoness Cult” wasn’t a sect—it referred to the nine tea party members.

Alongside the table, each seat bore a symbol:
Pleasure, Wrath, Sloth, Corruption, Void, Mind, Vanity, Envy, Life…

The Tea Party wasn’t mandatory—merely a gathering for demonesses to chat. rarely all nine attended.

Today, however, surprised the present demonesses. At the usually vacant Life seat sat a pale-haired, bandaged maiden entwined with vines—present and cold.

“Oh my~”

“Saintess of Glazed Glass, what a rare honor?”

The Pleasure seat’s elfin beauty in lace smiled gently. Her six-pointed eyes held playful malice.

All eyes turned to the Life demoness. She remained silent, eyes closed—icy disdain radiating.

Until the doors opened again. A three-tailed fox, lips stained with blood, entered—
“Jiang Jinyou.”

“You finally grace us with your presence.”

The Life maiden spoke, opening her Glazed Glass eyes. Crimson vines lashed out like tentacles toward the fox spirit.

“Regarding the whereabouts of Chen Jianxin’s Innate Sword Saint Physique—”
“Any leads?”

—