Recalling the method to condense lunar energy, Qing's recently calmed heart and flushed cheeks reddened again. There was a way, but with Elder Mu present, it was deeply embarrassing to consider.
Elder Mu stared curiously at the statue. Though its form and divine aura surpassed even Qing's beauty, he found it lacking compared to her.
"Turn around," Qing said softly, her trembling eyes and flushed face betraying her inner turmoil.
Elder Mu obediently turned, but soon heard the faint rustle of silk and satin being undone. His mind, consumed by lust and thoughts of Qing, pricked up his ears. His wrinkled face turned slightly, itching to peek.
Curiosity overwhelming him, he squinted, trying to steal a glance. But a blinding spiritual light seared his eyes, leaving him dizzy and teary. He quickly turned away, rubbing his stinging eyes to ease the pain.
"No peeking!" Qing's clear, icy voice rang out, laced with a hint of anger and embarrassment that dispelled her divine aloofness, making Elder Mu's heart race.
The sound of clothing being shed continued, each rustle tormenting him. He fought the urge to look again, still stinging from the earlier light. His fantasies ran wild, imagining Qing's flawless body and the divine sensation of her hips against his hands and cock through her clothes. His erection throbbed painfully, precum leaking as the tight trousers bit into his glans, fueling his arousal.
What would her bare hips feel like? Her breasts, her perfect form, her long, curvaceous legs? No imagining could compare to her true beauty. He pictured her gazing at him with that cool stare, his cock aching with need.
A splash broke his reverie as Qing entered the pool. Unable to resist, Elder Mu turned, only to be disappointed. Qing had vanished into the misty pool, its spiritual vapors obscuring her form. Straining his eyes, he caught only glimpses through the fog, her flowing hair, her smooth jade-like back, and the faint outline of her pert, youthful hips swaying in the water. The mist blurred the details, leaving him frustrated but enthralled.
"You should enter the pool too. It will benefit you," Qing's voice called out, cool yet tinged with shy hesitation.
Ecstatic, Elder Mu stripped off his clothes, revealing his gaunt, wrinkled body speckled with age spots and gray hair. Between his legs swung a monstrous cock, thick as an arm and long enough to reach his knees, its fist-sized glans grotesquely out of place on his frail frame. He stepped into the warm pool, the spiritual liquid soothing his body as it infused him with energy. Ignoring the luxury, he waded eagerly toward Qing's last known spot.
*Thud!* He collided with an invisible barrier, his face contorting as he slid down, nose bleeding, and flopped into the pool like a clumsy fool.
Qing, wading through the misty pool, caught sight of his ridiculous fall and allowed herself a faint smile.
Approaching the majestic statue, she gazed up at the Mysterious Lady's face. Lifting one slender leg, she revealed a delicate foot, as perfect as the statue's jade but vibrant with life. Her toes, like polished pearls, glistened with spiritual dew, sliding down her flawless curves. The mist clung to her soaked hair, her body a vision of lunar purity, unmarred by a single hair or flaw.
At the statue's base, she spotted a yin-yang wheel formed of pure spiritual energy, two illusory carp, one black, one white, swimming in harmony. They drew in the sparse spiritual energy, condensing it into droplets that fed the pool. At the center of their eyes glowed the immortal spirit energy, the realm's greatest treasure and the array's core, preserving it for the destined heir.
"Yin-Yang Extremity!" Qing exhaled in relief, seeing the fish undisturbed.
She stood bare to avoid triggering the array with enchanted garments. Using the Emotionless Technique, she attuned herself to the array's rhythm, lest the fish vanish into the void, reappearing only after an unknown time.
Sitting beneath the yin-yang fish, she closed her eyes, meditating on their mysteries and beginning to refine the coveted immortal spirit energy.
Eight moments later, the fish began to stir.
Meanwhile, Lian Zhen and Feng Wei reached the secret realm's beast enclosure, once home to countless exotic creatures, now pursued by a relentless mob.
Feng's reputation in the demonic factions was abysmal. From destroying the Ghost Sect's century-long plans to thwarting the Evil Heart Sect's schemes in the Sky Rift Valley's great battle, he had crushed their ambitions to overthrow the heavens.
A beam of demonic light enveloped them. Feng shattered it with a surge of mana, glancing back at the pursuing demonic cultivators. He wryly addressed Lian, who forged ahead, her halberd cleaving through black mist, scattering beasts and birds in her wake. "Lian, isn't this a bit too conspicuous?"
"Just call me Lian," she replied, glancing casually at their pursuers.
Feng nodded, sighing. "Alright, Lian."
He noticed the Celestial Pool Sect from Kunlun, their faces sour at the sight of them. Several readied their artifacts, only to be restrained by their saintess, sparing Feng and Lian a two-front assault.
Among the crowd, many righteous sect members smirked at their predicament, while others watched with amusement, treating it as a spectacle.
If Feng was despised by demons, Lian's reputation was equally notorious across both righteous and demonic factions. The Celestial Pool Sect, for instance, still smarted from losing their share of the Celestial Pool's sacred spring to Feng and Lian half a year ago, a humiliation that tarnished their name.
Wiser heads in the righteous factions held back, knowing that ganging up on two young prodigies would
only invite ridicule. Still, Feng and Lian's knack for stirring chaos wherever they went drew plenty of angry glares and curses. "That damned Feng and his cursed Dragon Halberd!"
As they countered demonic attacks and fled into the forest, a massive three-eyed, winged tiger charged them, its presence as formidable as a seasoned cultivator. Enraged by Lian's brazen advance, it roared, unleashing a bloody whirlwind.
"Get lost!" Lian's eyes narrowed, swinging her Dragon Halberd.
A draconic aura erupted, the halberd's spirit coiling like a true dragon. The whirlwind shattered, and the tiger, a local tyrant, was cleaved in half, its innards spilling as it wailed. The crowd paled, retreating further from the duo.
The Dragon Halberd, though less potent than in its prime, was unmatched in its tier. Lian's strike rivaled cultivators two realms above her, a terrifying feat.
Even Feng marveled. His confidantes each shone uniquely: Suya Jun's healing arts and compassion humbled him; Mira Rain's elusive footwork always left him chasing; Lian's halberd could sunder the skies, her battle aura unmatched; Qing's depths remained unfathomable, each action revealing new heights.
Each was extraordinary, peerless in their generation. His monk friend, Mingxin, called it his fortune, peach blossom luck, but warned that indecision could turn it into a calamity.
Yet Feng's greed made him hesitate, unable to choose, risking everything for nothing.
A horse's neigh interrupted his thoughts. From a grassy clearing, a white horse soared, leading a herd that galloped on clouds, vanishing like lightning.
These horses, surviving in this harsh realm, were no ordinary beasts. Their heads bore fleshy growths, their bodies covered in fish-like scales. Their hooves were clawed, their tails long and scaled. They radiated an aura that subdued lesser creatures, from strange fish to dragon-blooded crocodiles.
These were dragon horses, their bloodline purer than the realm's motley creatures. The lead horse stood out, its scales thicker, its tail longer, its body sleeker, with nascent dragon horns replacing the usual growth.
Its presence stifled weaker cultivators, freezing their mana.
"Dragon horses!" The crowd's eyes blazed with greed.
Since antiquity, true dragons had vanished from the mortal realm. The last, ridden by the Human Emperor, ascended with him after the Immortal-Mortal Oath. Dragon parts were treasures: scales for armor, blood for forging, whiskers for bindings, hearts for strength, and pearls for miracles. Even a蛟龙's pearl was a sect's cornerstone.
These dragon horses, brimming with dragon blood, were priceless whether tamed as mounts or harvested. A breeding herd could yield unimaginable wealth.
Righteous and demonic cultivators alike abandoned their schemes, charging after the herd. Even those hunting Feng and Lian redirected their focus.
"Lian..." Feng began, eyeing her unusually still stance.
He knew the Dragon Halberd's heirs dreamed of beholding a true dragon, a quest that drove each generation to their graves unfulfilled. These dragon horses were the closest lead yet.
"No rush. Let them fight over those," Lian said calmly, her face serene, startling Feng.
Seeing his confusion, she smiled. "The greatest treasures are often the least obvious."
She pointed to the clearing where the herd had stood. A lone black horse grazed leisurely.
Unremarkable, it lacked scales or draconic traits. Its black coat was unkempt, smeared with mud, its eyes docile. Mosquitoes buzzed around it as it swatted them with a plain tail, the picture of a dull, ordinary steed.