I Was Forced to Marry a “Trash” Cultivator, But She Turned Out to Be a Reborn Empress!

Chapter 222: The Saintess Falls, A Powerful Evil Artifact

The storm of breath and blood finally ceased.

On the large bed, the ghostly blue flames of the Turtle-Snake Lamp gradually receded, casting long, dancing shadows against the walls. The bronze statues of the turtle and snake interlaced upon the lampstand returned to their dormant, silent state.

Qiu Ruoli lay collapsed in Shen Xian’s embrace, utterly drained. Her snow-white skin was flushed with a faint, rose-colored hue, and fine beads of sweat clung to her temples, plastering stray strands of hair to her face.

Her Daoist robe was in ruins. The collar hung half-open, exposing her delicate collarbone and the swell of her chest.

She knew she should push him away. Dignity demanded it. But her body felt as heavy as lead; she couldn’t summon even the strength to lift a finger.

What shamed her more was the traitorous reaction deep within her dantian. Her Sunflower Water Spiritual Root was still trembling, humming in resonance as if it were mourning the loss of the surging, domineering spiritual power that had just filled it.

Shen Xian’s fingers traced idly down the curve of her spine. Everywhere his fingertips brushed, residual sparks of spiritual energy flared, sending shivers rippling through her skin.

“It seems the Saintess is quite satisfied?”

He chuckled low in his throat, his voice dripping with the lazy satisfaction of a predator who has just fed.

Qiu Ruoli bit her lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of an answer.

But her body betrayed her. When Shen Xian’s fingers slipped down to the curve of her waist, her breath hitched, quickening uncontrollably.

“Heh.” Shen Xian seemed to revel in her internal struggle. He reached up, pinching her chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing her to look at him.

Their eyes met.

Qiu Ruoli’s long lashes fluttered. A mist of unshed tears and lingering heat clouded her gaze. She should hate him. She did hate him. Yet, when she looked into those deep, indifferent eyes, her heart skipped a beat in a way that had nothing to do with fear.

“Your cultivation has risen significantly.” Shen Xian’s thumb brushed over her swollen lips, his tone playful yet calculating. “Keep this up, and you might genuinely break through to the Nascent Soul realm.”

His assessment was purely pragmatic. His choice to spare her had been correct. As long as she broke through, the harvesting multiplier from the System would increase, and his own cultivation would soar in tandem.

Qiu Ruoli’s heart trembled.

He was right. Her cultivation had surged violently.

The bottleneck trapping her at the Half-Step Nascent Soul stage had loosened. She could feel the threshold of the true Nascent Soul realm, tantalizingly close.

But to gain power through such a method… through this shameful, carnal dual cultivation…

She abruptly turned her face away, hiding the wavering conflict in her eyes.

Shen Xian wasn’t done with her. His hand slid down the column of her neck, his thumb pressing lightly against the hollow of her collarbone.

“Mmm…”

Qiu Ruoli let out a muffled, involuntary moan, her body arching reflexively. A crimson mark he had left there moments ago was still sensitive to the touch.

“What? Is the Saintess learning shame now?” Shen Xian laughed darkly, his fingers applying a malicious pressure. “You certainly weren’t this shy a moment ago.”

Qiu Ruoli’s ears burned scarlet. She wanted to die of humiliation.

The memories were vivid and unforgiving. She remembered exactly how she had behaved—her legs wrapped tight around his waist, her meridians greedily swallowing his spiritual energy, her voice whimpering in dissatisfaction whenever he deliberately slowed the flow…

Just the memory made her wish the floorboards would open up and swallow her whole.

But the true horror lay in the realization that followed.

She didn’t regret it.

The euphoria of her cultivation skyrocketing, the fullness of the spiritual energy, even the suffocating weight of his absolute control… it stirred a dark, secret longing in the depths of her soul.

“I… I need to bathe.” She finally managed to squeeze the words out, struggling to push herself up.

Shen Xian’s arm clamped around her waist like an iron band, dragging her back down into his chest.

“What’s the rush?” He lowered his head, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. “After such intense energy exchange, one must stabilize the foundation. Move too soon, and you risk Qi Deviation.”

Qiu Ruoli stiffened.

He was right, of course. It was basic cultivation theory. But she couldn’t stand to be in his arms for another second.

She was afraid. Afraid that if she stayed, she would sink into this abyss. Afraid she would forget who she was.

“Let… let me go…” Her voice trembled.

Shen Xian narrowed his eyes, studying her flushed face for a moment before smiling. He loosened his grip.

Qiu Ruoli scrambled off the bed, her legs jelly beneath her. She staggered, nearly collapsing, but sheer stubbornness kept her upright. She didn’t look back as she fled the room, desperate to escape the devil’s lair.

…

Once Qiu Ruoli had vanished, Shen Xian’s expression shifted from playful mockery to cold calculation. He turned his attention to the harvest of his recent battles.

A stream of light flashed, and a small, sinister banner appeared in his hand.

The High-Grade True Spirit Treasure—the Ten Thousand Souls God-Devouring Banner!

This was a supreme artifact of the ancient evil path, created by the infamous “Ten Thousand Souls Patriarch.” It had been forged by slaughtering 9,999 Nascent Soul cultivators and stripping their primordial spirits to feed the artifact.

It possessed three devastating abilities.

First: Soul Extraction. It could forcibly rip a target’s soul from their body, imprisoning them within the banner for eternity, denying them the cycle of reincarnation. These enslaved souls retained their memories and cultivation, serving as eternal slaves to the banner’s master.

Second: Soul Slaying. Upon activation, the banner could unleash a “Soul-Devouring Demon Tide.” Ten thousand vengeful spirits would scream forth, submerging the enemy’s Divine Sense in an instant and shattering their soul.

Third: Soul Seizure. This was the most defying ability. The master could sacrifice a soul from the banner to die in their place. Even if Shen Xian’s physical body were pulverized, he could borrow a compatible soul to undergo rebirth.

However, the restrictions were harsh. To resurrect, the substitute soul had to have a ninety-nine percent compatibility rate with the user—a near-impossible requirement.

Furthermore, the artifact was cursed. Constant use would allow the boundless resentment within the banner to erode the user’s Dao Heart. At best, one’s temperament would warp; at worst, they would descend into madness, becoming a mindless butcher.

And naturally, such a heaven-defying evil tool carried a heavy karmic debt. Using it too often would almost certainly provoke the Heavenly Tribulation Thunder Punishment.

Shen Xian analyzed the information floating in his mind.

‘A trump card,’ he decided. ‘Powerful, but dangerous. It stays hidden until absolutely necessary.’

Used correctly, this thing could even threaten a Soul Formation Venerable.

He willed the banner into his Blood Jade Ring.

As the banner entered his storage space, he sensed a ripple of fear from his other artifacts. He immediately sent a sharp pulse of Divine Sense into the ring, suppressing the evil spirit of the banner. The artifact spirit shivered and fell silent, not daring to act out.

…

The journey continued.

For the next half-month, Qiu Ruoli lived in a state of fractured reality. Her body and her will were tearing apart.

Whenever Shen Xian approached her, her skin would crawl with anticipation, even as her eyes grew colder than ice.

“This filthy body…” She would bite her lip until copper blood filled her mouth, using the pain to anchor her sanity against the rising tide of pleasure.

‘It is just a shell of flesh,’ she told herself, glaring at the man before her with defiant eyes. ‘You will never break my will!’

But the moment Shen Xian’s spiritual energy invaded her meridians, her resistance crumbled like sand in a gale.

The warm, domineering current flooded her system, making her toes curl and her vision blur.

‘This is cultivation… only for the breakthrough…’

She repeated the lie like a mantra. Yet, in the throes of passion, she found her arms locking around Shen Xian’s neck, pulling him closer.

What terrified her most was her own conditioning. When Shen Xian deliberately slowed his pace to tease her, her hips would move on their own, silently begging for more.

Fifteen days passed in this blur of humiliation and power.

Finally, the Sun and Moon Boat reached the borderlands—the dividing line between the Southern and Northern Regions.

A massive, pitch-black curtain of light stretched across the horizon, blocking out the sky. Inside the curtain, space twisted and folded upon itself, exuding a terrifying, chaotic aura.

The surrounding wasteland was desolate, stripped of life. Yet, Shen Xian’s Divine Sense picked up numerous faint fluctuations hidden in the shadows—cultivators lying in ambush, preying on travelers.

However, the imposing majesty of the Sun and Moon Boat radiated enough pressure to keep the rats in their holes. They watched greedily but dared not strike.

Shen Xian stood at the prow, his gaze fixed on the distortion ahead.

Beside him, Qiu Ruoli let out a long, shuddering breath.

The hellish torment of the last two weeks was over. She had survived the constant erosion of her dignity. Now, faced with the deadly danger of the Northern Region, she paradoxically felt safe. At least here, she didn’t have to fight herself.

Whoosh!

The Sun and Moon Boat accelerated, tearing through the atmosphere and crashing straight into the black light curtain.