Chapter Seven

As the cold, desiccated corpse lay on the bed, the nine-tailed fox spirit stood before a copper basin, slowly and meticulously wiping her hands. She wiped them carefully, finger by finger, not even missing a spot under her fingernails, as if she had just finished a trivial chore and needed to clean the remaining stains from her hands. The handkerchief was a coarse cotton cloth provided by the inn, faded from washing, with frayed edges, but she used it with the elegant composure of polishing a fine piece of porcelain.

The sun shone brightly outside the window, its afternoon rays filtering through the oiled paper windowpanes and casting blurry patches of light on her plain white dress. The sounds of street vendors hawking their wares, horses' hooves, and children's laughter squeezed in through the cracks in the window, creating a stark contrast to the deathly silence inside the room.

Lin Jingxuan's consciousness huddled in the most inconspicuous corner deep within the human skin, like a weed repeatedly ravaged by storms, its roots still barely clinging to the soil, but its leaves all drooping. His consciousness was curled up in a ball, surrounded by weak, unstable fluctuations of energy, like a candle flame about to go out. When Leng Gu died, he did indeed feel the pleasure of revenge; the moment Leng Gu's life force was drained, a string that had been taut for so long finally loosened for a fleeting moment. But the ensuing climax, like a flood, overwhelmed that tiny bit of insignificant pleasure, mixing it with humiliation, ecstasy, and self-loathing, turning it into a pot of emotional turmoil that he could neither distinguish nor confront.

He should be happy to have killed his enemy. But he dared not think about how he had killed him. And what he dared not think about even more was that—in the moment of climax, besides the pleasure of revenge and the physical stimulation, he also felt a strange sense of relief. That relief was not the relief of "getting revenge," but the relief of "so this is how it can be."

This thought terrified him. He desperately tried to suppress it to the deepest part of his consciousness, using all his remaining willpower to build layer upon layer of barriers on top of it, pretending it had never existed. But thoughts, once they have arisen, never truly disappear.

The nine-tailed fox spirit sensed his series of emotional fluctuations. She tossed the handkerchief into the copper basin, closed her eyes, and sank her consciousness into the dark space deep within the human skin. She saw Lin Jingxuan's consciousness curled up in a corner, the barriers crookedly stacked, beneath which lay a faintly glowing thought he refused to face even in death. She looked at that corner, sealed off by layers of barriers, a meaningful smile curving her lips, but said nothing.

"My lord," she called softly, her voice languid and content, carrying the satisfaction of having just enjoyed a sumptuous meal, "Leng Gu is dead. Another name off your list. Aren't you going to congratulate yourself?"

Lin Jingxuan did not respond. His consciousness remained motionless, as if he were asleep or had simply shut down his perception of the outside world.

"Ignoring me?" The nine-tailed fox demon didn't seem to care. Her consciousness slowly circled around him, her tail tracing an elegant arc within the space beneath his human skin. "Alright, then I'll congratulate myself. I've absorbed another Golden Core stage demonic cultivator, and my energy has recovered somewhat. I can fly faster tonight. Most importantly—"

She brought her lips close to his curled-up consciousness, speaking in a soft, warm breath into his ear, like a feather gently tickling his eardrum: "My husband was exceptionally good today. Although you said no, you truly enjoyed it during your climax. Didn't you notice? You ejaculated more than yesterday morning. The body doesn't lie."

Lin Jingxuan's consciousness trembled violently. The thoughts suppressed beneath that barrier seemed to be poked by something, flickered for a moment, and were then firmly suppressed by him.

"As for those thoughts of taking revenge and then self-destructing," she chuckled, her tail tip lightly brushing against the surface of his consciousness, "it's best to discard them. I told you, during this climax, you had to be obedient. You've already experienced it—don't rush to deny it, denial is useless. Anyway, there's plenty of time later, take it slow. I'm not in a hurry, and you don't need to be either. Our destinies are intertwined; without each other, neither of us can recover."

After saying this, she pulled herself back to reality, leaving Lin Jingxuan alone in the depths of darkness, silently trembling as he faced the ever-thinning barrier and the increasingly bright thought beneath it.

A moment of silence fell over the room. The nine-tailed fox opened her eyes, walked to the bedside, and glanced down at the desiccated corpse of Leng Gu. The corpse's face still bore that intoxicated smile, making it look particularly ironic. Without even frowning, she reached out and stripped off his black robe, then untied his storage pouch and bone whip from his waist. The bone whip was cool to the touch, its surface covered with fine bone spikes—a rather fine magical artifact. She weighed it in her hand, nodded in satisfaction, and then casually stuffed Leng Gu's desiccated corpse under the bed.

“These things can be pawned for a lot of money.” She tidied her makeup in front of the mirror, slightly concealing her red and swollen eyes, so she no longer looked so disheveled. “Killing someone has given me clothes to pawn, even the heavens are sending me travel expenses. Husband, do you think I should go and buy a few pretty clothes first? I’ve been dressed too poorly these days. No matter how beautiful my skin is, I need some nice clothes to match it.”

Lin Jingxuan still didn't respond. She didn't care, and pushed open the door to leave the inn. The moment she stepped outside, her face and figure silently changed in the shadows cast by the doorframe. The adjustment to her features took less than three breaths—the corners of her eyes slightly lifted, transforming her originally gentle almond-shaped eyes into more mature, alluring ones; her lips became fuller, the cupid's bow more pronounced, naturally possessing a coquettish curve; after a subtle adjustment to the position of her cheekbones, her entire face transformed from a "dignified and gentle lady of a prominent family" to a "charming and mature socialite." Her figure changed as well—her waist thinned by an inch, the curves of her chest and hips became fuller, and the lines of her shoulders became more rounded and soft. She looked like a ripe peach, exuding a languid and contented womanly charm nurtured by time.

Her clothing was also subtly adjusted to reflect her changing temperament—the plain white dress had some dark patterns, the way the belt was tied changed from a dignified double knot to a more figure-flattering single diagonal buckle, and the neckline was slightly open, revealing a small patch of fair skin below her collarbone.

Clutching the bundle of clothes she'd stripped from Leng Gu, she went to a pawnshop first. The pawnshop owner, a shrewd middle-aged man, noticed the Bone-Eating Hall's insignia embroidered on the clothes; his expression changed slightly, but he asked no questions and offered a fairly fair price. The nine-tailed fox accepted the money and turned to a clothing shop on the next street.

The owner of the clothing shop was a woman in her forties. Upon seeing a customer, she immediately greeted her warmly, sizing up the beautiful woman before her. The owner had been running the shop for over twenty years and had seen many customers, but this woman was truly captivating. She wore a simple white dress, the style plain, the fabric not particularly fine, yet it possessed an indescribable allure on her. Her waist was so slender it seemed one could easily encircle it, while her curves were perfectly proportioned, her hips and breasts voluptuous. With each step, her waist swayed naturally, exuding a natural grace. Her skin was almost translucent white, with a thin, natural blush on her cheeks, as if she had just had a warm towel applied to her face, or as if something had stirred her heart. Most captivating were her almond-shaped eyes, slightly upturned at the corners, half-closed when she looked at people, as if holding a faint smile, or perhaps a hint of unspoken melancholy, evoking an irresistible tenderness in those who looked at her.

"Madam, what kind of clothes would you like to see?" the proprietress asked with a smile, already planning in her mind to recommend some of the most expensive styles in the store to this beautiful woman—a beauty like her would look good in anything, but she would definitely look even better in something nice.

“I’d like to see clothes suitable for a woman,” she said, her voice mature and slightly husky, as if she had just woken up or was slightly tipsy from a little wine. “I’m married now, so I don’t want anything too plain.”

"Alright, alright, this way please, Madam." The proprietress nodded repeatedly, taking down several brightly colored, high-quality dresses from the rack and unfolding them one by one for her to see. "Look at this peach-pink one, the fabric is this year's new Yun brocade, embroidered with twin lotus blossoms, it complements your skin tone perfectly. And this lotus-root pink one, the style is the most fashionable right now, it's a match made in heaven with your figure. This apricot-red one is also nice, the frog button on the neckline was handmade by our master craftsman, it's one of a kind in the entire Luoxia Town..."

The nine-tailed fox gently ran her fingers along the cuffs of the peach-pink brocade, feeling the delicate touch of the silk against her fingertips. These sensations were transmitted to Lin Jingxuan without reservation through the human skin. He had his eyes closed—or rather, the nine-tailed fox had his eyes closed—and he was passively receiving the visual signals. He didn't want to look at those colorful women's clothes, but his eyelids were not under his control, so he could only passively follow along.

"This peach-pink one is nice." She picked up the dress, held it up against herself, and then turned to look at a bronze mirror hanging on the wall next to her.

The bronze mirror reflected a mature and beautiful woman—her peach blossom eyes were slightly narrowed, a satisfied smile played on her lips, and her figure was so graceful that she seemed to have stepped out of a painting. She turned slightly to the side, pulling her dress from her shoulders to her waist, and twirled halfway in front of the mirror. The hem of her skirt swayed gently with her movement, revealing a section of her lotus-white ankles.

Lin Jingxuan was forced to look at the face reflected in the bronze mirror. This was neither the gentle and dignified young lady from a prominent family, nor the earlier, devastatingly beautiful nine-tailed fox spirit, but a completely new image—a married woman, mature and alluring, exuding the charm of a woman. She looked to be about twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old, the perfect age for a woman who had shed her girlish naiveté but hadn't lost her allure. Her eyes held a satisfied look of having been loved, her lips were full and soft, the slight upturn of them seeming both coquettish and provocative, and her skin was as smooth as a freshly peeled egg, gleaming with a soft sheen in the bronze mirror.

She was admiring herself in the mirror, but Lin Jingxuan knew that the "she" in the mirror was the "he" in the present.

This realization caused his consciousness to tremble violently once more. He desperately tried to look away, to close his eyes, to cut off the visual input, but he couldn't. The control of the human skin was comprehensive; he could only passively accept everything she showed him—every angle, every expression, every subtle movement of the beautiful woman in the bronze mirror was completely received by his consciousness and etched deep into his memory.

"I'll take this one." She looked at herself in the mirror again, nodded in satisfaction, and then turned to the shop owner. "Shop owner, is there a fitting room?"

"Yes, yes, this way please." The proprietress led her to a small booth at the back of the shop and drew the curtain. "Please take your time changing. Call me anytime if you need anything."

The moment the curtain was drawn, she was left alone in the small cubicle. A larger bronze mirror hung on the wall, its surface polished smooth, reflecting her entire body clearly from head to toe. Standing before the mirror, she slowly and deliberately loosened her belt, gently removing her plain white dress. The fabric rustled softly as it slipped from her shoulders, revealing a smooth, white shoulder and the curves of her body below her collarbone. The bronze mirror reflected a beautiful woman undressing, her movements slow and elegant, as if performing a striptease for her own solitary audience.

Lin Jingxuan desperately tried to close his eyes deep within his consciousness—but he had no eyes to close. Visual signals poured directly into his consciousness through his skin; the image of the beautiful woman undressing in the bronze mirror was so real it seemed etched onto his retina. He felt the slight friction of the fabric slipping off his skin, the inadvertent touch of her fingers brushing against his waist as she unbuckled her belt, and even the temperature change as her skin came into contact with the cool air after she removed her clothes. He didn't want to see the mature woman's body in the mirror, but his choice had already been completely taken away.

What he found even more unbearable was that—in the brief moment she was changing, his genitals were again slightly rubbed against the inner wall of her skin. It wasn't intentional; it was just a natural muscle contraction caused by her bending over to take off her skirt. But this slight, unintentional friction caused his organ to involuntarily twitch for a moment. She could feel his twitch, her lips curved slightly, but she said nothing and continued to put on her new clothes at her own unhurried pace.

She put on her peach-colored dresses one by one. First, the close-fitting undergarment, then the lining, then the outer skirt, and finally the belt. With each garment, she would examine herself in the mirror, adjusting the neckline, smoothing the cuffs, and running her fingers through the strands of hair that fell over her shoulders. Her movements were unhurried, like a noblewoman attending a banquet, with ample time to prepare herself. In the bronze mirror, the beautiful woman became more and more complete, more and more refined, more and more like a true, secluded, and alluring lady, her attire refined and elegant.

"Does it look good, my love?" She turned left and right in front of the mirror, gently touching the area below her right collarbone with her finger. Beneath the skin, a small, irregularly shaped red mark was faintly visible—Lin Jingxuan's spot. From the outside, it was just a very subtle difference in skin tone, but she could feel that the nerve sensitivity of that area was several times greater than that of other parts of her body. She lightly pressed her fingertip on the mark, with a touch as light as a dragonfly skimming the water, but Lin Jingxuan felt a jolt of electricity explode from the point of contact. His entire body jolted violently within his skin, and his genitals involuntarily twitched for a moment.

"This is my husband. Let me fasten your sash for you." She said with a smile, slowly fastening the buttons of her new clothes one by one.

His voice was hoarse and weak, carrying a sense of crushed exhaustion, "You... that's enough."

"Enough?" The nine-tailed fox raised an eyebrow, withdrew her hand, took one last look at herself in the mirror to make sure her makeup and clothes were impeccable, then pulled back the curtain and said to the proprietress, "I'll take this one. Also, see if you have any cloaks and embroidered shoes suitable for going out."

The proprietress's eyes lit up when she saw her emerge in that peach-pink dress. She praised it repeatedly, saying it was tailor-made for her and looked better on her than on any model. The nine-tailed fox smiled and accepted the compliments. She then picked out a moon-white cloak and a pair of matching embroidered shoes, paid for them, had the proprietress pack up her old clothes, and left wearing her new attire.

As she stepped out of the clothing store, the afternoon sun shone brightly on her, making her peach-colored dress appear to be edged with gold. Passersby on the street turned their heads, and many lingered on her for a longer time than on others. Oblivious to their presence, she carried her bundle and slowly walked back the way she had come.

Halfway there, she suddenly stopped.

It was a busy intersection, bustling with people in the middle of the afternoon. Seven or eight pedestrians brushed past her simultaneously; some carried shopping baskets, others led children, and a vendor pushing a cart shouted "Excuse me, excuse me!" as he squeezed past her. In this noisy, chaotic, yet perfectly normal environment, the nine-tailed fox suddenly opened a crack inside her human skin—she was relinquishing control of her body to Lin Jingxuan.

"My lord," she said in her mind, her tone as casual as if she were discussing what to have for dinner, "I'm a little tired. You can walk back by yourself for the rest of the way. The inn is just up the street ahead; turn left and it's the second door."

Lin Jingxuan was stunned.

His first thought was—this was a trap. She never relinquished control without a reason; every time she loosened her grip, it was to get him to do something even more shameful. But before he could think any further, he felt his limbs regain sensation, his sense of balance return to his consciousness, and his eyes could move freely again.

He regained control of the body.

But this is nothing to be thankful for. Because he controls her body—the body of a woman dressed in a peach-colored dress, with her hair styled in a noblewoman's updo, exuding the charm of a mature woman.

He stood at the crossroads, carrying a bundle of old clothes. Pedestrians came and went all around him, and the noise of people filled the air. His feet trod on the soft soles of embroidered shoes, his calves felt the slight friction of his skirt as it fell, his waist felt the tightness of his belt, and his chest felt the weight of his soft breasts supported by his undergarments. The silver hairpin in his hair swayed slightly in the sunlight, and the pulling sensation on his scalp clearly reminded him—you are not yourself.

Even more fatally, the moment he regained control of his body, the nine-tailed fox also synchronized his senses. This meant that with every step he took, he would experience two sensations simultaneously.

The first sensation came from his own body—his genitals were still encased in the inner walls of the human skin. As he took his first step, the movement of his thighs engaged the muscles of his waist and hips, causing his male organ, encased in the moist, warm vagina, to rub back and forth against the inner walls of the human skin with each step, as if he were actively using his organ to rub against the softest folds of her body. Each slight impact from landing was amplified into a feeling of penetration through the transmission of the pelvis, forcing him to slow his pace to reduce the stimulation.

The second sensation came from her body—as the manipulator, he simultaneously received all the information emanating from this woman's body. He could feel a warm organ filling his vagina, slowly moving in and out with each step, each slight friction bringing a tingling, pleasurable sensation that spread from his lower abdomen to his entire pelvic cavity. These two sensory systems operated simultaneously in his consciousness, forming a bizarre closed loop—he was both the inserter and the inserted, both the manipulator and the manipulated, the two roles running parallel within the same nervous system, mutually reinforcing and amplifying each other.

His first step almost made him fall.

He instinctively grabbed the wall by the roadside, his palms pressed against the rough, cold surface, panting heavily. His chest heaved with each breath, and he could feel the two soft mounds he was supporting bobbing up and down with each breath, each movement bringing a delicate touch. He quickly withdrew his hand, forcing himself to take deep breaths to calm her body's reaction.

"What's wrong, madam? Are you feeling unwell?" A middle-aged woman passing by stopped and looked at him with concern.

Lin Jingxuan opened his mouth, wanting to say "I'm fine," but the voice that came out was a woman's soft, gentle voice, perfectly matching her beautiful appearance. Hearing himself speak in that voice sent goosebumps down his neck and forearms. But to others, the voice was gentle and dignified, carrying a languid, mature charm, perfectly matching his current appearance.

"N-nothing...it's nothing," he said with difficulty, each word seeming to roll on a knife's edge. "I'm just a little dizzy."

"You must take good care of yourself," the middle-aged woman said with a smile. "Oh my, madam, your dress is so beautiful. Did you buy it at that shop over there?"

Lin Jingxuan nodded, forced a smile, and quickly walked away. He just wanted to get back to the inn as soon as possible, end this ordeal on the street, and retreat to his room never to come out again. But with each step, the friction between his legs produced a slight yet undeniable stimulation. His gait became somewhat strange due to this double stimulation—he wanted to take large strides, but the friction from large strides was stronger; he wanted to take small steps and walk slowly, but prolonging the ordeal would only make it last longer. He was like a tightrope walker, constantly swaying between fast and slow.

"lady--"

Another voice called out to him from the side. He turned around and saw a jewelry vendor holding up a jade hairpin and gesturing at him with a fawning smile, "Madam, your hairpin is a little crooked. Would you like to buy a new one? I just received a new batch here. It will definitely look good on you."

Lin Jingxuan subconsciously reached out and touched his hair bun. When he touched the strands of hair at his temples, he could feel how soft and smooth these long hairs that didn't belong to him were. When he looked down, he saw his delicate, white fingers and pink nails, each nail reflecting a pearly luster in the sunlight. Those weren't his hands at all, but they were indeed moving under his conscious control.

"No," he said in a low voice, then turned and left.

He heard the vendor muttering sullenly behind him: "She's quite good-looking, but she has quite a temper..." He heard it, but he didn't bother to argue.

His embroidered shoes trod on the cobblestone pavement, the soft soles making almost no sound. The hem of his skirt brushed lightly against his calves and ankles with each step, the gentle caress making him think with every step—this is a skirt, a woman's skirt, worn on him, worn on her, worn on this body that doesn't belong to him. The hem of his cloak, lifted by the wind, would flutter to his wrists, cool and soft, like a gentle reminder.

"My lord walks more steadily than I imagined." The nine-tailed fox's voice suddenly rang out from the depths of my consciousness, carrying a hint of suppressed laughter.

"Shut up," Lin Jingxuan gritted his teeth. He quickened his pace; the inn was not far ahead, and he could already see the lacquered red wooden door. If he went inside, returned to the room, he could return his body to her, and end it all—he told himself.

But when they were still a dozen steps from the inn, three people suddenly approached from across the street. Two male cultivators and one female cultivator, all dressed in matching cyan sword robes, carrying long swords on their backs, and with jade pendants hanging from their waists—they were disciples of the righteous Qingyun Sword Sect. The Qingyun Sword Sect and the Qingxiao Sword Sect were allied sects with a close relationship. Lin Jingxuan recognized the female cultivator in the middle; her name was Su Wan'er, the last disciple of the Qingyun Sword Sect's leader. Two years ago, when the two sects participated in a joint training exercise, they had teamed up together. She was a kind person, cheerful, and her swordsmanship was quite good; they had even sparred a few times back then.

As Su Wan'er walked, chatting and laughing with her fellow disciples, her gaze casually swept across the street and landed on him. Her eyes lingered on him for a moment—a casual glance, nothing more. She saw a beautiful woman in a peach-colored dress with a graceful figure, not someone she recognized, so she naturally looked away and continued chatting and laughing with her disciples as she walked past.

Lin Jingxuan stood frozen in place.

Su Wan'er didn't recognize him. This was perfectly understandable—he currently appeared as a charming woman in her late twenties, while the Lin Jingxuan she knew was a robust swordsman in his early twenties. Even his own junior sister standing there wouldn't recognize him, let alone her. But this understanding didn't lessen the shock in his heart. He had just been passed by. By someone who knew him, by a former comrade-in-arms, who mistook him for a strange woman and brushed past him.

At that moment, he suddenly realized with absolute clarity that he was no longer the "Lin Jingxuan" that anyone in this world remembered. He was merely something wrapped in the skin of a beautiful woman, experiencing dual sexual sensations, unsure whether he could still be considered human.

The nine-tailed fox remained silent, refraining from delivering a further blow. This silence, however, was more painful for Lin Jingxuan than any taunt. He gritted his teeth, pushed open the wooden door of the inn, and almost stumbled up the stairs, bursting open the guest room door. Then, his legs gave way, and he collapsed to his knees beside the bed, gasping for breath.