Chapter Six

The Soul Emperor stood in the center of the Soul Clan's secret chamber, surrounded by scattered broken jade slips and ancient books. He had been studying tirelessly for seven days and seven nights, thoroughly examining all the Soul Clan's records on forbidden techniques of time and space and soul curses.

He found a solution.

A completely foolproof solution—since Yu Hongyan set up the restriction the moment before he traveled to challenge her, he wouldn't go to that point in time. He would travel directly to the moment Yu Hongyan was born, and nip her in the bud when she was still an infant.

This required an immense amount of soul power, so immense that even his half-emperor level body might not be able to withstand it. But he no longer cared. Six times. He had already experienced that humiliating and absurd cycle of reincarnation six times, and the marks of six women were etched into his soul. He felt like a piece of cloth repeatedly soaked in different colors of dye, its original color completely unrecognizable.

He didn't want to go through it a seventh time.

He was already a half-Emperor, only one step away from the legendary Emperor Realm, one of the few people standing at the very top of the entire Dou Qi Continent. Yet, he was being toyed with by the curse of a woman who had been dead for countless years, like a mouse being repeatedly teased by a cat, unable to escape, unable to die, only to be thrown into the bodies of those women again and again, conquered time and again by the boy he once regarded as an ant.

This is more than just humiliation.

This is a situation where one cannot live, nor can one die.

“Desire for Beauty,” the Soul Emperor stood in the center of the teleportation array, his hands forming a hand seal, and whispered in a deep voice, “This time, I will not give you any more chances.”

He closed his eyes, and his soul power surged forth like a flood, tearing apart the barriers of time and space.

The alternation between darkness and light is only a moment.

When he opened his eyes again, he was suspended in a chaotic void. He concealed all his aura, like a cheetah lurking in the shadows, silently scanning the land below. He saw it—the continent of that era, the mountains and rivers of that era, the cities and villages of that era, everything was more primitive and more wild than his own time.

Then he felt it.

The aura, though faint, carried an extremely unique soul fluctuation—it was Yu Hongyan's fluctuation, he couldn't be mistaken. The aura was located in an inconspicuous courtyard in a small town in the east, near a newborn baby.

The Soul Emperor smiled silently.

Without the slightest hesitation, he transformed into a streak of light and shot off in that direction.

Everything is coming to an end. Those damned women's bodies, those damned cycles of reincarnation, that damned boy—it's all coming to an end. He'll eliminate that baby before she even has a chance to plant the curse, then return to his own era, continue being the leader of his Soul Clan, and continue plotting his conquest.

He rushed into the courtyard.

He saw the baby.

Then he discovered a fact that terrified him—there was indeed the soul fluctuation of Yu Hongyan within the baby's body, but that soul was in an extremely special state—she was asleep, yet she was emitting a strange attraction, like a huge vortex, constantly absorbing the energy of all the surrounding souls.

He didn't come to kill her.

He came to deliver vegetables.

Before he could react, the gravitational pull had already seized him firmly, like an invisible hand violently ripping his soul from the Soul Emperor's body. He tumbled, spun, and plummeted through the air, the howling wind and the shrill cries of spatial turbulence filling his ears, countless images flashing before his eyes—mountains, rivers, cities, battlefields, weddings, funerals, life, death, love, hate—

Then he landed inside a soft, warm body with a faint fragrance.

The Soul Emperor opened his eyes.

Before my eyes stretched a lush, verdant forest, sunlight filtering through layers of leaves and casting dappled shadows on the ground. The air was filled with the scent of earth and grass, mingled with a peculiar, almost imperceptible fragrance of flowers. In the distance, the roar of a waterfall could be heard, while nearby, the chirping of insects and birds filled the air—a tranquil and beautiful scene reminiscent of a mountain forest painting.

He looked down and saw a fair hand, slightly smaller than that of an ordinary woman, with rounded fingertips and pale pink nails. He touched his own face; the skin was delicate and smooth, with a touch of baby fat. He moved his hand down and felt a petite and exquisite body, the curves of her breasts soft and full.

His gaze fell on the water's surface by the stream, where he saw the face reflected in the water.

It was the face of an extremely delicate little girl, about fifteen or sixteen years old, with skin as white as snow and features so exquisite they seemed to be God's most prized creation. She had large, bright purple eyes, long, curled eyelashes, a small, straight nose, and slightly pouting lips, carrying a touch of girlish charm and innocence.

Zi Yan.

The king of the Ancient Dragon Clan, one of the most powerful beings outside the eight ancient clans, a peerless genius with dragon and phoenix bloodlines, and a supreme magical beast unseen for ten thousand years—

She's Xiao Yan's woman again.

The Soul Emperor stared at the delicate little face on the water's surface and remained silent for a long time.

Then he began frantically trying to break free of the body. He tried everything—soul strikes, energy bursts, even self-harm. But as always, his soul was firmly locked within the body, like a prisoner trapped in an exquisite cage, unable to find a way out no matter how hard he struggled.

But this time, he was even more horrified to discover something—the body was not in the right condition.

Zi Yan is currently in a very special physiological cycle—the delayed bloodline awakening of the Taixu Ancient Dragon Clan. Females of this race undergo a bloodline awakening before reaching adulthood. During this awakening, their bodies are in an extremely sensitive and vulnerable state, and they also secrete a special pheromone that strongly attracts males of their race.

Worse still, Zi Yan's dragon-phoenix bloodline caused her to secrete dozens of times more pheromones during this period than ordinary female members of the Ancient Dragon Clan. These pheromones had no effect on humans, but for creatures with dragon blood, they were an irresistible aphrodisiac.

Unfortunately, Xiao Yan possessed a trace of dragon-phoenix bloodline—a gift from Zi Yan that allowed him unimpeded access to the Taixu Ancient Dragon Clan.

Before the Soul Emperor could even ponder what this pheromone meant for Xiao Yan, heavy footsteps echoed outside the cave.

It was the sound of human footsteps, but not entirely. The footsteps carried a majesty and power unique to dragons, a power that made the earth tremble. Each step felt like a blow to the heart, causing Zi Yan's body to tremble involuntarily—not from fear, but from her most instinctive reaction.

The Soul Emperor wanted to stand up, to escape, to hide himself. But his body wouldn't listen to him.

Zi Yan's body was moving, but it wasn't him moving. It was this body's instinct, the feeling and longing for a powerful member of its own kind during the awakening of the Dragon-Phoenix bloodline. She—it—was walking towards the direction of the footsteps, her steps light and urgent, like a little beast that had finally waited for its master.

The light at the cave entrance dimmed.

A tall figure appeared there, backlit, his face obscured, only his imposing silhouette visible. The setting sun cast a golden glow behind him, making him appear like a deity descended to earth.

The Soul Emperor's heart skipped a beat.

It wasn't for any other reason than that Zi Yan's body reacted most honestly in that instant—her pupils dilated slightly, her breathing became rapid, an unnatural blush rose on her cheeks, and her legs began to weaken. It was a pure, instinctive reaction from the depths of her blood, completely unrelated to her own will.

The figure took a step forward and stepped out into the backlight.

Xiao Yan.

This was not the naive young man he had first met, nor the promising youth he had encountered at the Yunlan Sect, but a more mature, stronger, and more composed Xiao Yan. At twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old, his figure was as upright as a pine tree, his features sharply defined, and a kingly aura already present between his brows. His eyes were deep and bright, as if containing an entire starry sky, or burning with an inextinguishable flame.

The moment he saw Zi Yan, his gaze softened.

"Little Ziyan? What are you doing here?"

His voice was still the same one in the Soul Emperor's memory, only now it carried the weight of years and the composure of a powerful being. He walked over and reached out to touch Zi Yan's head.

But his hand stopped a moment before it touched Zi Yan's hair.

His brows furrowed slightly, and his gaze became somewhat serious.

"Your bloodline...has awakened?"

The Soul Emperor wanted to say no, wanted to say don't come any closer, wanted to say stay away from me. But he discovered—

He was speechless.

Zi Yan's body was responding to Xiao Yan's message in a way she couldn't control. Her body trembled slightly, her eyes welled up with tears, and her lips parted slightly, revealing two small canine teeth. She looked like a small animal that had been starving for a long time, finally seeing the prey it had been longing for.

"Xiao Yan..." She heard her own voice escape her throat, carrying a soft, coquettish tone that even she herself couldn't believe, "I feel so uncomfortable..."

This is Zi Yan's voice, Zi Yan's tone, and the words she would say to Xiao Yan at this moment. In the original timeline, when Zi Yan's bloodline awakened, it was Xiao Yan who accompanied her and helped her through that difficult period. During that time, neither of them could resist the attraction of their bloodlines, and some things that shouldn't have happened occurred.

If it were the real Zi Yan, all of this would have happened naturally and effortlessly. But at this moment, the soul in this body is the Soul Emperor.

It was the Soul Emperor who once swore to kill Xiao Yan.

He was the Soul Emperor, whose soul had been repeatedly ravaged by six women and whose heart was filled with love and desire that did not belong to him.

Xiao Yan was clearly aware of Zi Yan's state. His eyes became complex, filled with heartache, hesitation, and a repressed desire that only a man could understand. He reached out and pulled Zi Yan into his arms, gently patting her back.

"Don't be afraid, I'm here. I'll help you."

His voice was gentle yet firm, like a reassuring pill, which made Zi Yan relax a little.

But the Soul Emperor's heart was in his throat.

Because he sensed it.

Xiao Yan's body heat seeped through her clothes, the scalding temperature seeming to set Zi Yan's body ablaze. His heartbeat roared in her ears, each beat like the oldest war drum, striking her eardrums and battering her reason.

Even more deadly was that Zi Yan's body was frantically absorbing the dragon-phoenix bloodline aura from Xiao Yan. For a female dragon in the awakening stage, that aura was like parched land finally receiving sweet rain; every pore was greedily sucking it in, and every inch of her skin was yearning for more contact.

Soul Emperor tried to break free from the embrace, but his arms involuntarily wrapped around Xiao Yan's neck. He tried to pull away, but his body pressed even closer. He wanted to close his eyes, but his gaze greedily traced Xiao Yan's features.

"Xiao Yan...I'm so hot..."

The words escaped Zi Yan's lips, trembling and choked with sobs. They weren't what the Soul Emperor wanted to say; they were words forced upon him by Zi Yan's body and the soul imprints of the six women.

He was making a final, desperate struggle.

Xiao Yan's breathing became heavier. He looked down at the petite girl in his arms—no, she was no longer a girl. The awakening of her dragon-phoenix bloodline meant she had truly come of age. At this moment, Zi Yan's eyes burned with a flame that only a mature woman possessed, a flame so dazzling and captivating that it was impossible to look away.

"Do you know what you're saying?" Xiao Yan's voice was hoarse and restrained. "You're not in your right mind right now, and I don't want to take advantage of you."

His words startled the Soul Emperor.

He hadn't expected Xiao Yan to say that. In his memory, Xiao Yan was always proactive and domineering when facing his women, rarely showing such hesitation and restraint. He couldn't help but look up into Xiao Yan's eyes, and deep within those eyes, he saw—

He saw genuine concern.

Xiao Yan was genuinely worried about Zi Yan, genuinely wanted to protect her, and genuinely didn't want to take advantage of her while she was unconscious. Even though the dragon-phoenix bloodline within him was stirring, and even though his body yearned for her, he still used his reason to suppress that impulse.

The Soul Emperor suddenly felt a strange and complex emotion.

The emotion contained admiration, surprise, and something else—

He himself was unwilling to admit that he felt even the slightest bit of attraction.

Zi Yan raised her hand and stroked Xiao Yan's cheek. Her hand was small, covering only half of Xiao Yan's face. Her thumb gently caressed his cheekbone, the movement as tender as if she were touching the most precious treasure in the world.

“I’m not out of my mind,” Zi Yan’s voice was soft and gentle, yet carried an undeniable firmness. “I know who you are, and I know what I’m doing.”

These words were half Zi Yan's instinct, and half the resonance of the six women within the Soul Emperor's soul. They were using Zi Yan's mouth to say what they had once said.

The last vestige of hesitation in Xiao Yan's eyes crumbled at the sound of those words.

He lowered his head and kissed Zi Yan's lips.

In that instant, the Soul Emperor's mind went completely blank.

Zi Yan's lips were soft, carrying the sweetness and purity unique to young girls. They were different from Xiao Xun'er's gentleness, different from Cai Lin's passion, different from Xiao Yi Xian's shyness, different from Nalan Yan Ran's reserve, and different from Yun Yun's maturity. It was a completely new and unprecedented sensation, like a newly ripened fruit, filling the mouth with sweet juice when bitten into.

Xiao Yan's kiss was gentle, unlike any of the previous ones. He kissed her as if she were a rare treasure, his tenderness and care filled with boundless affection. His tongue gently traced the shape of Zi Yan's lips, as if savoring an extremely precious delicacy, unwilling to swallow it whole, wanting only to savor it slowly.

During that kiss, the Soul Emperor felt something he had never experienced before.

The previous five times, he was driven by desire, dominated by instinct, and pushed along by his body's cravings. But this time, Xiao Yan's gentleness made him feel something different—it was true love, not out of desire, but out of cherishing.

He suddenly thought, what if he weren't the Soul Emperor, what if he really were Zi Yan—

No, he shook his head, trying to shake the thought away. But Zi Yan's body had already completely gone limp in Xiao Yan's arms, her fingers were running through his hair, her body was trembling slightly, her breath and his breath were intertwined, indistinguishable from each other.

Xiao Yan gently placed her on the soft haystack in the cave. That haystack was where Zi Yan usually slept; it was covered with thick, dry moss and leaves, and topped with a soft animal hide, exuding her unique scent. Xiao Yan leaned over her, one hand supporting his head beside hers, the other gently loosening her sash.

The Soul Emperor closed his eyes.

He didn't want to see. He didn't want to feel. He didn't want to experience that feeling of being penetrated, filled, and conquered again. But he couldn't control Zi Yan's body, nor could he control the resonance of those six women within his soul.

He could feel Xiao Yan's fingers tracing his skin, the calloused fingertips brushing against his collarbone, his chest, his waist. Each touch felt like an electric current exploding within him, sending shivers down his spine. He could feel Xiao Yan's breath on his ear, hot and rapid, carrying a longing that had been suppressed for too long and was finally being released.

He could feel that burning hot spot pressing against his crotch.

He could feel himself subconsciously spreading his legs slightly to accommodate the intruder.

Then--

Xiao Yan entered him.

The Soul Emperor's soul was torn apart in that instant. He felt like a piece of iron thrown into a furnace, melting, deforming, and reshaping in the high temperature. The feeling of being filled was too intense, so intense that his consciousness could not bear it at all. He could only float and sink in the tide of pleasure, like a small boat with no direction at all.

Zi Yan's body was different from the previous five. She was not human, but the queen of the Ancient Dragon Clan of the Void, the inheritor of the Dragon-Phoenix bloodline. Her body was softer, tighter, and more sensitive than that of a human woman. Moreover, due to the awakening of her bloodline, the temperature inside her body was much higher than normal, and the scalding, enveloping sensation made Xiao Yan unable to help but let out a low groan.

"Mmm... Little Ziyan... Your insides are so hot..."

Xiao Yan's voice was so hoarse that it was almost inaudible. His forehead was pressed against Zi Yan's shoulder, and his breathing was heavy and rapid.

The Soul Emperor did not answer, for he was speechless. His body trembled with each thrust from Xiao Yan, his fingers gripping Xiao Yan's back tightly, his nails leaving red marks. He heard his own voice echoing in the cave, a soft, seductive voice, tinged with sobs and whimpers, completely unlike any sound he could make.

He wanted to push Xiao Yan away, but he couldn't. He wanted to curse him, but when he opened his mouth, only groans and gasps escaped. He wanted to hate him, but he found that the pieces of ice deep within his soul were melting at an irreversible rate.

Xiao Xun'er said: He has grown up and has become a strong and upright man.

Cai Lin said: He is the only man who is good enough for me.

Little Fairy Doctor said: He has never disliked me, never.

Nalan Yanran said: If I hadn't broken off the engagement back then...

Yunyun said: He is my disciple, and also the only person I have ever loved in my life.

Zi Yan didn't speak; she simply looked at Xiao Yan with her purple eyes, her gaze filled with an intense and pure affection and trust.

Seven women.

Seven voices.

Seven love stories.

They intertwined and resonated within his soul, transforming into a vast, all-encompassing net that bound him firmly within it.

He felt himself melting into one of the seven women.

Soul Emperor floated and sank in waves of pleasure, his consciousness sometimes clear, sometimes blurred. When clear, he cursed Yu Hongyan, Xiao Yan, and this damned world in his heart; when blurred, he only knew that he was being embraced, being possessed, and being loved.

At the moment of climax, Zi Yan's body arched violently, letting out a piercing scream. The sound echoed in the cave, shaking dust off the stone walls and startling the birds outside. Her body convulsed beneath Xiao Yan, as if struck by electricity; each convulsion brought a wave of afterglow, sending her swooning and leaving her utterly overwhelmed.

At the peak of her climax, she saw a hand—the Soul Emperor's own hand—reaching out from the void, trying to grasp something, but grasping nothing. Then the hand vanished, transforming into starlight that merged into Zi Yan's body.

In that moment, he lost himself.

He no longer knew who he was. He didn't know if he was the Soul Emperor, Xiao Xun'er, Cai Lin, Little Fairy Doctor, Nalan Yanran, Yun Yun, or Zi Yan. He didn't know if he hated or loved, if he resisted or longed, if he was being conquered or redeemed.

All he knew was that Xiao Yan's embrace was so warm.

That warmth was something he had never felt in his three thousand years of cold life.

I don't know how much time has passed.

As the sun completely set and the sky filled with stars, the cave returned to silence.

Zi Yan nestled in Xiao Yan's arms like a satisfied little animal, her head resting on his arm, her breathing steady and long. Her body still carried the lingering flush of pleasure, and her eyes held a languid contentment after the joy. Xiao Yan's arms were around her waist, his chin gently resting on the top of her head, his breathing even, he had fallen into a deep sleep.

Then, Zi Yan slowly opened her eyes.

Those eyes no longer held the girlish infatuation and desire; instead, they held an extremely complex, weathered light.

That is the Soul Emperor.

He finally regained temporary control of the body.

He didn't move, simply lying quietly in Xiao Yan's arms, listening to his strong heartbeat, feeling his warm body temperature, and smelling the faint herbal scent on him. He found that he no longer resisted this embrace as before; he even felt—

I feel somewhat at ease.

He was startled by his own thought and tried to sit up, but as soon as he moved, Xiao Yan's arms tightened involuntarily, pulling him even closer into his embrace. He murmured something softly in his sleep, which the Soul Emperor didn't hear clearly, but the sound made a certain string in his heart tremble slightly.

He didn't move again.

He simply closed his eyes, letting himself lie quietly in that warm embrace.

He thought, perhaps this is fate. He had traveled through so many time periods, tried so many methods, but ultimately he couldn't escape the same result—to be Xiao Yan's woman, to be conquered by Xiao Yan. The curse of Desire for Beauty was like a woven net, and he was a moth, no matter how much he fluttered, he would eventually fall into that net.

He suddenly remembered something—on the timeline, those women had offered themselves willingly. Xiao Yan was unaware that his soul had reincarnated seven times within those women's bodies. In Xiao Yan's memory, he had simply lived his life step by step, encountered those women, and had the relationships that were supposed to happen with them. He didn't know that each time he entered their bodies, he was unknowingly taming a soul with three thousand years of cultivation.

This may be the only consolation.

As dawn broke, the Soul Emperor's soul finally separated from Zi Yan's body.

He returned to the void, looking down at the cave below, at Xiao Yan who was still asleep and Zi Yan curled up in his arms, and at the morning light gradually illuminating their faces.

He didn't look at it again.

He turned around, tore through space and time, and returned to his own body.

When he opened his eyes again, he was already in the familiar scene of the Soul Clan's secret chamber.

He sat up and looked down at his hands—the hands of the Soul Emperor, long and strong, with distinct knuckles. He touched his face again—angular features, a sharp jaw. He looked down at his chest—flat, firm, a man's chest.

But this body that had been with him for three thousand years now made him feel a sense of unfamiliarity he had never felt before.

He stood up and found that his gait had become much lighter, his waist swaying slightly without his notice, and his steps carrying a rhythm he himself was unaware of. He walked to the bronze mirror and saw the cold, aloof man in it, but found a hint of tenderness in his eyes that he himself was unaware of.

He sat down and instinctively tried to cross his legs, but found himself unconsciously keeping his legs together and slightly turned to one side.

He suddenly stood up, wanting to find something to do, but found that his fingers were unconsciously circling a strand of hair while combing his hair.

He froze.

He looked at himself in the mirror, his eyes filled with an expression he couldn't even describe—panic, confusion, shame, anger, and—

There was also a hint of resigned calm.

He spent three thousand years cultivating to become a half-emperor, killing countless people, crushing countless forces, and standing at the pinnacle of this continent. He thought he was omnipotent, that he could control everything, and that nothing could ever defeat him.

But at this moment he realized that he was just a pitiful man who had been ravaged by seven women in turn, and whose own body was beginning to feel uncomfortable.

He then tried altering his physical body, transforming himself into a woman. It was simple; for someone at his demigod level, it was merely a matter of moving a finger. He could transform himself into anything he desired—a perfect woman embodying all the virtues of those seven women.

Then what?

Go find Xiao Yan, tell him everything, be with him, and live a life that truly belongs to "her".

He looked at his hands in the mirror, his fingers clearly defined, the base of his thumb calloused from years of wielding weapons. These hands had once held the Xuan Heavy Ruler, formed world-destroying hand seals, torn through space, and felt Xiao Yan's warmth within the bodies of five women.

If I really did become a woman...

He was suddenly startled by his own thought.

He's actually seriously considering whether or not he should become a woman?

He abruptly withdrew his hand and took a step back, as if he had been burned by his own thoughts.

He felt he had gone mad. He must have been too deeply influenced by the soul imprints of those seven women to have such an absurd thought.

He shook his head, trying to shake off those thoughts. But they seemed to have taken root, lingering in his mind. He began to imagine himself standing before Xiao Yan as a woman—what expression would he have? What would he say? What would he do?

Will he recognize himself?

Will he accept himself?

The Soul Emperor closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and then slowly exhaled.

No, he can't do that.

He is the Soul Emperor, the patriarch of the Soul Clan, a half-emperor level expert, he is—

He was the one who was defeated by Xiao Yan seven times.

He opened his eyes, looked at himself in the mirror, and a very complicated smile appeared on his lips.

In that smile, there was anger, shame, resentment, helplessness, and a faint expectation that even he himself did not realize.