“Senior, consider this a token of your Junior’s affection.”

A small, exquisite wooden box slid from Li Meng’s sleeve into his palm.

Wen Huanhuan struggled slightly in his embrace, her cheeks flushed. “You… release me this instant!”

“As you command.”

Li Meng chuckled, his voice dripping with feigned obedience. He released her soft, pliable waist and took a respectful step back, though his eyes remained locked on hers.

Wen Huanhuan smoothed her robes, her breathing slightly ragged. Her gaze fell upon the box in his hand. “What is it?”

With a casual flick of his thumb, Li Meng popped the lid open.

Instantly, a rich, verdant fragrance exploded outward, saturating the air within the pavilion. Resting inside was a pill as green as emerald jade, glowing with an inner luminescence.

Wen Huanhuan’s breath hitched. “This… is this a Flawless Ageless Pill?”

A realization struck her like a bolt of lightning. She looked up, staring at Li Meng’s handsome, smiling face with wide eyes. “The mystery seller at the Auction Immortal Gathering… it was you?”

Li Meng stroked his beard, his expression indifferent yet pleased. “It was indeed this Junior.”

Wen Huanhuan’s expression shifted rapidly—shock, greed, hesitation, and longing warring across her features. She reached out, her slender fingers trembling as they neared the box. But just before contact, her hand jerked back as if scalded.

She bit her lip, her gaze torn. Then, desire won out, and she reached again.

Twitch. She pulled back again.

Watching this erratic display, Li Meng’s internal monologue was cynical. Is her madness flaring up? Or is this a war between her fractured personas fighting for control?

Regardless of whether it was a split personality or simple indecision, he had no patience for it.

Li Meng stepped forward, grabbed her delicate, jade-like hand, and forcibly pressed the wooden box into her palm. His fingers lingered over hers, warm and firm.

“Senior, this is merely a small tribute to your beauty. It carries no other meaning. Please, do not torment yourself over a mere trinket.”

Wen Huanhuan stared blankly at the box now in her grasp, then up at Li Meng. The chaotic shifting of her expression finally settled into a dazed stupor.

“And this,” Li Meng continued, producing a porcelain vial. “Please accept this as well.”

Wen Huanhuan glanced at the vial.

“A Third-Grade, Superior-Quality Soul Nourishing Pill?”

Her pupils constricted to pinpricks. Pills capable of strengthening the Divine Soul were rare treasures; a Third-Grade one was a fortune in itself.

Li Meng took her hand again, curling her fingers around the cool porcelain.

“Senior, your soul is damaged, leaving you with grave hidden dangers. As an Alchemist and Refiner, my greatest fear is an unstable Dao Heart. If you are unwell, how can I be at peace? I implore you to diligently practice the [Soul Refining Art]. In the future, when my cultivation advances, I swear to refine a Longevity Pill specifically for you.”

He stepped back, bowing deeply with impeccable etiquette.

“This Junior will not disturb Senior’s peace any longer. I take my leave.”

Li Meng turned, his robes fluttering as he prepared to ride the wind away.

“Nephew Li, wait!”

“Alright!”

Li Meng spun around instantly, his face breaking into a bright, roguish grin. He didn’t just wait; he strode forward, closing the distance in three large steps.

Before Wen Huanhuan could react, he extended his arms and pulled her crushed against his chest once more.

Boldly, recklessly, he lowered his head and captured her red lips.

Wen Huanhuan’s eyes went wide. Shame, fury, and a flicker of killing intent cycled through her gaze like a kaleidoscope.

Slap!

The sharp crack of palm meeting flesh echoed through the pavilion.

“You… what are you doing?!”

Wen Huanhuan shoved the audacious disciple away. Her chest heaved, her face burning with a mixture of rage and embarrassment.

Li Meng’s cheek stung, a bright red handprint blooming on his skin. Yet, his smile didn’t waver. If anything, the pain seemed to embolden him.

He stepped forward again.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her flush against him, and kissed her again—deeper, harder, with a possessive intensity that bordered on madness.

Wen Huanhuan’s body stiffened. The expression on her face twisted violently. The killing intent in her eyes surged, sharp as a blade, but her hands… her hands pressed against his chest with no real force, soft as cotton.

After a long, suffocating moment, another sound rang out.

Slap!

“You… you are presumptuous!”

Wen Huanhuan glared at him, her eyes glistening. Now, both sides of Li Meng’s face sported matching handprints.

Facing the wrath of a Golden Core cultivator, Li Meng showed not a shred of fear. He took another step forward.

Wen Huanhuan gasped and hastily retreated a step.

“You… if you do this again, I won’t be polite!”

Li Meng chuckled, a low, husky sound. He continued to advance, backing her toward the railing.

“Senior Wen, please… don’t be polite with me.”

Wen Huanhuan clenched her fists. At this moment, she truly wanted to slap this despicable, lecherous rascal into a meat paste. Before today, he had seemed so upright, so respectful. Had her beauty finally revealed his true, beastly nature?

If not for the promise of the Longevity Pill… she would have killed him ten times over!

Her back hit the cold railing. She had nowhere left to retreat.

Li Meng loomed over her, his presence overwhelming.

“You… you just wait!”

Wen Huanhuan’s face turned scarlet, a mix of shame, annoyance, and helplessness. With a threat that carried absolutely no weight, she transformed into a streak of escaping light and fled the pavilion as if escaping a demon.

Li Meng stood alone in the pavilion, watching the streak of light disappear into the depths of the peak. He touched his stinging cheeks, a cynical smile curving his lips.

For a mad woman like Senior Wen, one must use even madder methods to shatter her defenses.

She was a Golden Core cultivator, yes. But she was also a woman. No matter how insane she became, she still possessed a woman’s vulnerabilities.

Li Meng bowed theatrically toward the direction she had fled.

“Senior! Your Junior will return to disturb you another day!”

“Don’t you come again!”

From the depths of Cloud Soaring Peak, Wen Huanhuan’s exasperated, flustered scream echoed back.

Li Meng chuckled, smoothing his beard. He turned, stepped onto the wind, and soared upward, flying away from the peak with a light heart.

[System Notification: Affection +80] [Sub-profession Experience +150]

Li Meng smiled knowingly at the prompt. Finally, her Affection was no longer in the negatives.

I should probably keep this from Master, he thought idly.

Then again, was it necessary? The grudge seemed entirely one-sided on Wen Huanhuan’s part. Ruoshui had never seemingly cared about Wen’s existence. It was just a feeling, but Li Meng trusted his instincts.

…

Li Meng rode the wind through the sea of clouds, heading back toward Moon Gaze Peak.

“Senior Uncle Li!”

Just as he neared his home territory, a familiar, melodic voice called out from behind him.

Li Meng halted, hovering in mid-air, and turned.

A graceful figure approached on a flying sword. She wore a purple rainbow dress that clung to her tall, slender frame, accentuating the elegant curve of her waist and the fullness of her hips.

It was Yu Youwei.

She smiled radiantly, bowing in salute as she drew near. “Senior Uncle, what a fortuitous encounter. I was just on my way to Moon Gaze Peak to find you!”

Li Meng swept his gaze over the surrounding peaks, ensuring they were relatively private. He chuckled warmly at his Junior Niece.

“This is not the place for conversation. Let us go to the viewing pavilion on that mountain over there to talk in detail.”

Yu Youwei bowed respectfully, her eyes twinkling. “Senior Uncle, please lead the way.”

Li Meng flicked his sleeve, his gaze lingering appreciatively on her curves for a brief second before he turned. “Junior Niece, please.”

The two flew toward a solitary peak in the northwest. Landing gently in the secluded pavilion at the summit, they sat opposite each other at a stone table.

“Has Junior Niece come this time specifically to discuss the Dao with your Senior Uncle?”

Li Meng waved his hand, and an exquisite tea set appeared on the stone table, steam already rising from the pot.

Yu Youwei nodded lightly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I wish to seek Senior Uncle’s guidance on some… intimate questions regarding cultivation.”