Chapter Two

The moment Lin Jingxuan rushed out of the Burial Sword Abyss, he thought he could at least retain something.

Perhaps it was the control over his left hand, perhaps it was the blurred vision in his left eye, or perhaps it was the faint, hoarse voice deep in his throat that belonged to him. He made a deal with the nine-tailed fox demon—he would help her restore her life force, and she would borrow his power to take revenge. It sounded like a fair trade, two down-on-their-luck souls using each other in their desperate situation, each getting what they needed.

But he soon realized that he had oversimplified the matter.

The first ten breaths of flight were relatively normal. The nine-tailed fox spirit controlled this body wrapped in pink human skin, soaring through the night sky at a speed three points faster than Lin Jingxuan's sword-riding at his peak. The wind howled past her ears, blowing her long hair like a black flag. Moonlight shone on her fair cheeks, reflecting a cold and otherworldly glow. Nine fluffy fox tails spread out in a fan shape behind her, each tail swaying autonomously, like nine tentacles with independent consciousness, gently swaying in the night wind.

From her appearance, she was an absolutely stunning fox spirit, walking under the moonlight, her clothes fluttering, as beautiful as a painting.

But Lin Jingxuan's judgment wasn't based on appearance.

He was looking at it from the inside.

The feeling of being wrapped in human skin was like being stuffed into a soaking wet bodysuit. That pink membrane clung to every inch of his skin, every muscle line, every bone gap, so tightly that it was almost impossible to distinguish the boundary between "himself" and "human skin." But there was still that thin layer—how thin? Probably thinner than a sheet of paper, finer than a layer of oil, like a delicate state between adhesion and fusion.

It was this almost non-existent thin layer that allowed Lin Jingxuan to breathe a slight sigh of relief.

“There’s still a gap,” he thought. “It’s not fully integrated yet. As long as there’s a gap, there’s still a chance. I can slowly accumulate strength, find the weakness of this human skin, and take back control of the body when she’s weak. Her life force is almost exhausted. I can’t take her body, and it’s even difficult for her to suppress me. Although she said this in a casual tone, I could tell that she really didn’t have much strength left.”

He made a judgment based on his swordsman's intuition—this nine-tailed fox's state was not as composed as she appeared.

With this thought, his remaining consciousness calmed down slightly in the darkness. He stopped struggling and trying to regain control of his body, instead quietly shrinking into the thin gap, like a hunter lurking in the shadows, patiently waiting for his chance.

This decision became one of the most regrettable decisions he made in the long years that followed.

Because the nine-tailed fox sensed it.

I sensed that he had stopped resisting.

The flight posture subtly changed in that instant. Originally, she was simply traveling, as if rushing to some destination, straightforward and with a clear purpose. But in the very moment Lin Jingxuan gave up resisting, her waist suddenly swayed, a very small movement, yet with an extremely strange rhythm—like a fox that had just bitten its prey's throat, and after confirming that the prey had stopped struggling, finally had the leisure to begin savoring the taste of flesh and blood.

A slight smile curved her lips. From an angle Lin Jingxuan couldn't see, her long, narrow fox eyes narrowed into slits, the corners of her eyes curving upwards, revealing a satisfied and languid pleasure. She said nothing, but her nine tails swayed gently at the same time, as if conveying a tacit signal to each other.

Then, she started to change.

The first change was in her breathing. Her breathing changed from steady to long and deep, each inhale like savoring the most subtle flavors in the air. She slightly raised her chin, revealing her slender, fair neck, the moonlight shining on the delicate skin of her throat, giving it a thin, pearly sheen. In the shallow indentation below her collarbone, something seemed to be throbbing slightly, as if another heart was hidden beneath her skin.

The second change is body temperature. The temperature of human skin is constantly changing. At first, it was icy cold, like the skin of a snake just pulled from the water; then it gradually warmed up, reaching the level of normal human body temperature. But now, the temperature has changed again—not an overall increase in temperature, but rather certain specific areas are quietly and selectively heating up.

Lin Jingxuan didn't pay attention at first.

He assumed it was just normal physical exertion during flight causing his body temperature to rise. Being a sword cultivator, he was unfamiliar with the physiology of demons, let alone the unique habits of ancient demons like the nine-tailed fox. Therefore, he was completely unaware of the approaching danger, obediently remaining hidden and plotting his revenge.

Until that warm breath spread between his legs.

Lin Jingxuan's consciousness jolted violently, as if he had been stabbed hard with a needle. He "looked down"—of course, he no longer had a head to look down at; he was merely a mass of consciousness encased in human skin, but his senses remained. He could clearly feel the temperature inside the human skin rapidly rising around a certain point, becoming increasingly hot and humid, as if some scalding, viscous liquid was quietly secreting from the inner walls of the skin.

Then, he felt the contact.

The sensation came incredibly suddenly. An incredibly soft inner layer of human skin suddenly came to life, like an invisible mouth, slowly, comprehensively, and without leaving a single gap, covering him from top to bottom, starting from his lower abdomen. It wasn't a simple wrapping, but a purposeful fit—as if something was deliberately seeking out his outline, and then precisely and custom-tailoring itself to fit that outline.

Lin Jingxuan felt a chill run down his spine.

"Stop!" he shouted from the depths of his consciousness.

The sound from her throat turned into a soft, slightly confused groan. Her flight speed didn't decrease at all; she simply tilted her head and chuckled softly in a voice only the two of them could hear: "What's wrong?"

"What are you doing?!"

"What are you doing?" She blinked, her fox-like eyes filled with innocent light, her tone as sweet as if soaked in syrup. "I'm on my way. We made a promise: I'll take you to seek revenge, and you'll help me restore my energy. Aren't I keeping my promise?"

"I'm not asking about getting somewhere! I'm asking about you—" Lin Jingxuan's voice trailed off. He couldn't say it. Even communicating in the form of consciousness, he couldn't utter those words.

"What is it?" she pressed, a hint of amusement in her voice.

"You...your skin..."

"What's wrong with my skin?" She looked down at her body, scanning it from top to bottom, then exclaimed "Oh!" as if suddenly realizing something. "You mean this?"

She slightly adjusted her flying posture, bringing her legs closer together and tilting her waist slightly to the side. This seemingly casual movement actually tightened the fit of the inner layer of human skin by three points. Lin Jingxuan felt his most private parts being tightly wrapped by something warm and slippery, as if he were being coiled by an invisible snake, or as if he were being held by a warm hand, with the thumb lightly caressing the tip.

Every muscle in his body tensed up at that moment—but the muscles weren't his; they were human skin. His consciousness issued the command to tense up, but the human skin didn't budge, and even deliberately relaxed a little, making his consciousness feel like a punch hitting cotton, with nowhere to land.

"Let me go!"

"Let you go?" Her tone rose slightly, carrying a lazy impatience. "Lin Jingxuan, have you misunderstood something? I saved you, pulled you out of that miasma-filled valley, and even used my treasured fox pelt, which I've kept for a thousand years, to rebuild your body—do you know that this pelt is formed from the last bit of my cultivation? If I let you wear it, I'll only have a wisp of my soul left."

Her tone shifted from languid to a hint of grievance, but the smile in her fox-like eyes grew stronger: "I've given so much, it's not unreasonable for me to ask for a little reward, is it?"

"I promised to help you restore your energy, but I didn't say—" Lin Jingxuan's voice caught in his throat again. That word was like a red-hot iron, stuck there, impossible to utter.

"Didn't you say you'd sleep with me?" she said for him, her tone as frank as if she were just saying the weather was nice. "But little sword cultivator, have you ever thought about this—I am a nine-tailed fox demon."

She emphasized the words "nine-tailed fox," as if stressing a fact that Lin Jingxuan should have known long ago.

"What does the Nine-Tailed Fox rely on for cultivation? It relies on essence and energy. Where does essence and energy come from? The spiritual energy of heaven and earth is one kind, the essence of the sun and moon is another, but the highest quality essence and energy is the primordial yang of a living person. Especially for a sword cultivator like you, who has cultivated diligently for more than twenty years, your primordial yang is abundant, and your masculine energy is so strong that it is almost overflowing. I can smell it through your skin."

She stuck out the tip of her tongue and lightly licked her lips, a gesture that was indescribably alluring and seductive: "Do you think I will let you go?"

Lin Jingxuan's scalp tingled.

He struggled desperately again, his remaining consciousness thrashing about in the darkness, trying to tear a hole from within his human skin. His willpower transformed into countless invisible sword energies, frantically slashing at the pink membrane enveloping him. Each strike was delivered with all his might, trying to create a hole, even just the size of a pinhead, just enough to allow a wisp of consciousness to escape.

But the thin film remained completely still.

His sword energy struck as if it were cutting into a swamp—no, more terrifying than a swamp. A swamp would only swallow an attack, but this human skin would bounce back. The power of each strike was absorbed and neutralized by its supple inner walls, then rebounded back onto him in a softer, warmer form, turning his attack into a caress, his rage into tenderness.

"How adorable." The nine-tailed fox reminisced about his feeble struggle and said with a smile, "The more you struggle, the more excited I become. You sword cultivators, you all have such strong yang energy and such fiery tempers."

As she spoke, the inner layer of human skin covering Lin Jingxuan's private parts suddenly began to move.

It wasn't a dramatic, sweeping movement, but rather an extremely subtle, continuous, wave-like writhing motion. Layer upon layer of soft flesh pressed in from all directions, then released, then pressed again, then released again, each time from a different angle and with a different pressure, like dozens of fingers simultaneously massaging the same acupoint. The sensation didn't feel like an attack at all, but rather more like...serving someone.

Yes, it means to serve.

The nine-tailed fox demon knew exactly how to please men. She was an ancient demon who had cultivated for thousands of years; in her eyes, every intelligent male creature was like a different version of the same book, and she could tell what came next just by turning a few pages. Lin Jingxuan, a young sword cultivator in his early twenties, was like a blank sheet of paper in her eyes—a brand new sheet of paper that no one had ever even turned before.

She was like a seasoned painter, holding the softest brush, drawing stroke by stroke on this blank sheet of paper. Each stroke was just right, neither too light to be noticed nor too heavy to be uncomfortable, but rather in a perfect balance between tingling and soreness, making every hair on one's body tremble.

Lin Jingxuan clenched his teeth—or rather, his consciousness clenched them. His body was no longer under his control; all he could do was desperately resist the overwhelming physical pleasure deep within his consciousness. He had experienced a qi deviation before, where spiritual energy surged through his meridians, churning his internal organs, and he had endured that pain.

You can't loosen your jaw, or it'll be the end of you.

He told himself. He was a sword cultivator, the last bloodline of the Azure Sky Sword Sect, a man carrying a deep-seated hatred on his shoulders. How could he succumb to depravity in such a place? How could he yield to the clutches of a human skin? The deep-seated hatred, the destruction of his sect, the revenge for his master and junior sister—all these still burned in his heart. How could he...

But it happened—

"Ugh—!"

The movements inside the human skin suddenly quickened. The pulsating soft flesh tightened simultaneously from all directions, like a meticulously woven net, constricting to its limit in an instant. Every point precisely hit its target, every squeeze was just right. The feeling was like being wrapped in the softest silk, and then the silk suddenly came to life, turning into warm tongues that simultaneously licked all the most sensitive spots on his body.

A burst of white light exploded in Lin Jingxuan's mind.

His clenched teeth were pried open in that instant. The pleasure was like a red-hot knife, stabbing directly into the base of his spine, traveling up his spine, through his cervical vertebrae, and nailing straight into the top of his head. His whole being—or rather, his consciousness—was like a withered leaf in the face of this overwhelming impact, swept away before it could even last a single round.

He shot.

What he shot through the gaps in the human skin was absorbed entirely by the fine folds of the inner wall. He could clearly feel the utter exhaustion of being drained—a core strength within his body was being emptied all at once, as if someone had opened a sluice gate, releasing the river that had been accumulating behind the dam for years. The feeling was chilling, a mixture of the fear of being plundered and the emptiness of release; these two diametrically opposed emotions intertwined, causing his consciousness to tremble violently in the darkness.

"Ah..." The nine-tailed fox let out a long, satisfied sigh. Her eyelashes trembled slightly, and an unnatural flush rose on her cheeks—the color of Lin Jingxuan's essence burning within her. She stuck out her tongue and licked her upper lip, the tip of her tongue sweeping over her lip bead, leaving a slightly moist sheen, as if savoring a rare delicacy.

"The essence of a Pure Yang sword cultivator is indeed a good thing." Her voice was three degrees softer than before, with a languid feeling after a satisfying meal. The last syllable of each word was drawn out, like a string of stretched honey. "I tasted one a thousand years ago, and I still savor the memory. Yours is even purer than that one from back then, but... the amount is a bit small."

She frowned slightly, as if complaining that the portion of a dish was not large enough.

Lin Jingxuan couldn't utter a word. His consciousness convulsed violently in the darkness, shame, anger, fear, and lingering pleasure churning in his mind like a pot of boiling water. He wanted to curse her, to rush out and fight her to the death, even to immediately explode his soul and perish with her—but he couldn't do anything. His consciousness had been drained of its strength by that wave of release, and he lay limp in the space inside the human skin, like a fish pulled ashore, his mouth opening and closing, but unable to utter a sound.

What's even more terrifying is that his body didn't collapse from exhaustion.

Normally, after ejaculation, the body enters a refractory period, during which one feels tired, sleepy, and weak. But he didn't. His senses were frozen in the state just before ejaculation; the skin, in some way he couldn't understand, "frozen" his bodily functions to their optimal state—his muscles remained tense, his senses remained sharp, and even his organ, which should have softened, retained the firmness it had when it was wrapped.

"You think I'll make you go soft?" The nine-tailed fox seemed to sense his confusion, lowered her head and spoke towards her left hand—she knew Lin Jingxuan's consciousness was on that side, her lips almost touching the back of her left hand, her breath condensing into a thin layer of mist on the back of her hand, "How is once enough? I've only just tasted it."

As she spoke, the undulating flesh beneath her skin continued to pulsate. Those fine folds resembled an insatiable mouth, slowly and steadily sucking at Lin Jingxuan's essence. The pace was slow, the force gentle, like a well-fed person leisurely sipping tea, unhurried and unperturbed, yet the cup would never be empty.

Lin Jingxuan's consciousness trembled in the darkness.

He suddenly realized he had made a fatal mistake—he shouldn't have given up resisting. He should have kept struggling, kept fighting, even if it was futile, to let this fox demon know he wasn't someone to be trifled with. But instead, he chose to retreat strategically, to lie low and endure, and the fox saw through his intentions, and retaliated cruelly in a man's most vulnerable way.

"you……"

"Don't talk," she interrupted him softly. "Save your energy. We have things to do tonight."

Before she finished speaking, her flight speed suddenly doubled.

After that burst of vital energy was absorbed, the demonic aura emanating from her body visibly intensified. The fur on her nine fox tails became even fluffier and shinier than before, and the tuft of white hair at the tips of her tails shimmered with a faint silver glow under the moonlight. Her complexion also improved considerably; her previously pale lips became rosy and full, like leeches that had just sucked their fill of blood, exuding a dangerous allure.

"Your essence is really useful," she laughed lightly, her voice carrying a hint of childlike excitement, "I feel like I can fly an extra two thousand miles."

Lin Jingxuan remained silent. He was using all his willpower to resist the relentless writhing of the inner walls of her human skin. He had already ejaculated once and didn't want her to succeed a second time anytime soon. He tried to focus his attention on hatred—Yin Wujiu's cold laughter, his junior sister's tears, the roar of the Qingxiao Sword Sect's gate collapsing… He used these images as a shield to block the ever-surging physical pleasure.

At first, this method had a slight effect.

But this is just the beginning.

After flying for about half an hour, the nine-tailed fox suddenly slowed down. Her nostrils twitched slightly, as if she had caught a scent in the air. Then she lowered her head, her gaze piercing through the clouds and looking down, a meaningful smile suddenly curving her lips.

"Does that Yin Wujiu you keep thinking about have any other enemies?"

Lin Jingxuan was taken aback.

"What's the meaning?"

"I'm asking you, besides Yin Wujiu, is there anyone else you want to kill?" Her voice was languid, but there was something in her tone that made Lin Jingxuan vaguely uneasy. "When you ejaculated just now, your emotions fluctuated too much, and all sorts of chaotic images and names flooded into my consciousness. I looked through them and saw—besides Yin Wujiu, there was someone called 'Blood Hand Scholar'."

Lin Jingxuan's attention was instantly drawn to it.

Blood-Handed Scholar, a rogue cultivator of the Cloudfall Demonic Path, possessed a mid-stage Golden Core cultivation and was infamous for his brutal killings of righteous female cultivators. Three months prior, he had been present during the battle that annihilated the Azure Sky Sword Sect. In the chaos of battle, he kidnapped one of Lin Jingxuan's senior sisters, brutally murdered her in front of everyone for a full hour, and then hung her corpse on the old pine tree in front of the mountain gate. Lin Jingxuan remembered that scene—his senior sister's intestines were pulled from her abdomen and wrapped around his neck, her eyes remaining open until her death.

"Where is he?" Lin Jingxuan's voice suddenly became low and cold, completely different from the incoherent state he had just been tormented by pleasure.

"Below," the nine-tailed fox pointed downwards, "in a cave in Hundred Ghost Mountain, he's gambling with a group of low-level demonic cultivators. Tsk, I can even smell the blood on him; this guy cultivates the Blood Demon Art."

"Kill him."

"Alright, I'll kill him for you." Her straightforward answer surprised Lin Jingxuan. "However—"

She drew out the last syllable, her fox-like eyes curving into crescent shapes, her smile concealing a thousand years of cunning.

"The way he was killed might not be what you imagine."

Before Lin Jingxuan could figure out what those words meant, the nine-tailed fox demon had already swooped down towards Hundred Ghosts Mountain below. She didn't rush directly into the cave, but landed three miles from the cave entrance, her movements as light as a falling leaf.

The moment she landed, her demonic aura vanished completely. Her nine signature fox tails retracted into her body, leaving only a section of her tailbone hidden at the base of her spine. The alluring makeup on her face also faded, and her foxy features subtly adjusted their angles—the corners of her eyes drooped more, her lips thinned slightly, and her cheekbones receded slightly. These changes were extremely subtle on their own, but when combined, they completely transformed the overall aura of her face.

In the blink of an eye, the monstrous nine-tailed fox spirit transformed into a girl who looked only sixteen or seventeen years old. She had a round face, large almond-shaped eyes, a slightly upturned nose, small lips, and fair, delicate skin, exuding an air of naive innocence. She wore a plain white dress—the dress was conjured from human skin, not real fabric at all, but it looked like a wrinkled, coarse linen texture, suggesting she was from a poor, low-level cultivator.

She picked up a dry twig from the ground to use as a walking stick, messed up her hair, smeared some mud on her face, and then stumbled toward the cave.

From landing to completing the disguise, the entire process took no more than twenty breaths. The thousand-year-old fox demon's acting skills and efficiency left Lin Jingxuan, trapped inside the human skin, dumbfounded.

"You..." His voice echoed in my mind, "What are you going to do?"

"To avenge you," she said with a smile, but her voice had now become a timid, soft girlish voice, completely different from the lazy and alluring mature woman's voice before. "Why do you ask so many questions? I'm scared."

The last sentence, "I'm scared," was spoken so pitifully, with a slight tremor in the voice and a slight upward inflection at the end, making it sound like a frightened little rabbit.

Lin Jingxuan suddenly had an extremely ominous premonition.

But he couldn't explain what this premonition was, or perhaps he didn't want to think about it.

The cave was filled with smoke and dust, and six rogue cultivators of the demonic path were gambling with dice around a stone table. Bloodhand Scholar sat in the very center, a small pile of spirit stones in front of him, clearly the winner of the night. He looked to be in his forties, with a pale face and no beard, wearing a scarlet robe. The nails on all ten of his fingers were dark red—a mark of long-term practice of the Blood Demon Technique. Embedded in the crevices of his nails were not grime, but congealed human blood.

As the girl stumbled into the cave, all eyes were on her.

She leaned against the cave wall, panting heavily, her face pale, her clothes covered in mud and withered leaves, looking as if she had just escaped a terrible ordeal. Her almond-shaped eyes filled with tears, and her lips trembled as she managed to squeeze out a single sentence: "Please...please, seniors...save me..."

Blood-Handed Scholar's eyes lit up.

He had seen far too many women and killed far too many, but this young girl before him possessed a quality he rarely encountered—not the vulgarity of a courtesan, nor the aloofness of a righteous female cultivator, but the utterly defenseless innocence of a newly hatched chick. This innocence was far more effective than any seductive art on an old lecher like Bloodhand Scholar.

"Little girl, how did you end up on this Hundred Ghosts Mountain?" He put down the dice, his tone unusually gentle.

"I...I came to gather herbs with my sect. We encountered monsters on the way, and my senior brothers and sisters all died...I ran alone for three days and three nights..." The girl cried as she spoke, her tears falling like rain, gasping for breath. Her clear sobs made the demonic cultivators present feel pity.

The Blood-Handed Scholar stood up, walked slowly to her, and placed a hand on her shoulder. The moment his palm touched her skin, his pupils dilated slightly—this girl had a very special constitution. Although the spiritual energy in her body was so thin as to be negligible, her blood carried a very subtle sweet fragrance, a characteristic of a naturally alluring body.

Such a woman is a rare and highly beneficial resource for those who practice evil arts.

“Don’t be afraid,” his voice softened, his thumb gently stroking her shoulder, “with me here, no one can hurt you.”

He gave a wink to the demonic cultivators behind him, who discreetly put away the dice and left the cave. The cave door was closed, leaving only the Blood-Handed Scholar and the trembling girl in the dim candlelight.

The girl lowered her head, her hands clenched together until her knuckles turned white. Her body was trembling; she looked terrified. But deep within her consciousness, Lin Jingxuan was also trembling—for reasons completely opposite to hers.

"You...you wouldn't..." Lin Jingxuan's voice rang in his mind, trembling with disbelief.

"Don't make a sound." The nine-tailed fox's voice returned to its original seductive tone, only softer, as if whispering against his eardrum, "Watch the show."

The scholar with the blood-stained hand slid from the girl's shoulder to her back, his palm moving slowly down her spine, feeling the warmth and trembling from her youthful body through her rough linen clothes. He bent down, his lips close to the girl's ear, and whispered in a coaxing tone, "You've been running for three days and three nights, you must be very tired, right? Let me help you, okay?"

The girl didn't say anything, but her shoulders trembled even more violently.

Bloodhand Scholar assumed this was her tacit consent—or even if it wasn't, he didn't care. He reached out his other hand and placed it on the girl's slender waist, his thumb casually brushing against the lower edge of her ribs, feeling the vibrant flesh beneath that thin layer of skin. He had cultivated the Blood Demon Art for thirty years and had been with no fewer than a hundred women, but this little thing before him felt different. The sweet fragrance in her blood grew stronger, like a ripe fruit being squeezed open, its juices slowly oozing out.

He was somewhat dazed by the fragrance, and his breathing unconsciously became heavy. He didn't notice—the source of the fragrance was not the girl's blood.

It was the demonic energy deliberately released by the nine-tailed fox.

The girl turned her head slightly, revealing half of her blushing earlobe and a small section of her fair neck. Her eyelashes drooped low, like two startled butterfly wings fluttering gently. She bit her lower lip, leaving a faint white mark, then released it, then bit it again, repeating this subtle action several times, each time as if making a difficult decision.

"Senior..." her voice was barely audible, "Will...will you protect me?"

"Of course." The Blood-Handed Scholar's voice was already hoarse.

“Then…” The girl looked up at him with her moist almond-shaped eyes, her gaze filled with a mixture of fear, anticipation, and an indescribable shyness, “Then I must repay you properly, senior…”

The tremor in her voice when she said those words was just right—three parts fear, three parts gratitude, and four parts bewildered panic. No man could remain unmoved after hearing those words and seeing that expression.

Blood-Handed Scholar swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. He'd lived for over forty years and never imagined a young girl could so easily captivate him with a single sentence. He bent down and picked her up, his movements rough yet with an unnatural urgency, as if afraid she'd change her mind if he hesitated even a second longer. He placed her on the stone bed in the corner, one hand bracing against the stone wall beside her ear, the other beginning to undo his belt.

The girl lay curled up on the stone bed, her hands clenched into fists and pressed against her chest, as if trying to protect something. Her breathing was rapid and disordered, fine beads of sweat appeared on the tip of her nose, and her small lips were slightly parted, revealing a tiny bit of her pink tongue.

The moment the Blood-Handed Scholar's belt hit the ground, the girl's eyes suddenly changed.

In that blink of an eye, the curve of her almond-shaped eyes lifted slightly, and a flash of dark golden light disappeared deep within her pupils. She covered her face with her hands, peeking out one eye through her fingers as if she were shy—but deep within that eye burned a mischievousness and ruthlessness that only a thousand-year-old fox spirit could possess.

"You have such a great figure, senior..." she said timidly, her voice still soft and tender, but deep down there was a surging laughter, "Let this junior serve you well..."

After saying that, she turned over and switched from defense to offense.

Before the blood-handed scholar could react, a soft, white leg hooked around his waist, causing him to fall backward. The girl's body pressed against him as if boneless, her hands untying the ties of his inner garment, pressing her disgusting face against his chest. Looking down, he could only see the whorl of hair on the top of her head and the faint outline of her shoulder blades beneath the thin fabric.

The girl slowly straightened up, her buttocks slightly raised, and used one hand to support the side of the Blood-Handed Scholar's waist to maintain her balance.

Through that thin layer of fabric, two warm parts were pressed together.

As she did these actions, she slightly turned her head towards the empty cave wall, and silently, alluringly, with a hint of manic enjoyment in her smile, opened her mouth.

From Lin Jingxuan's perspective, she was speaking to him through an invisible mirror.

Her lip reading was extremely clear, syllable by syllable, as if she was deliberately making him understand what she was saying.

"I'll avenge you—!"

Lin Jingxuan's blood turned cold in that instant.

He desperately tried to move, to pull his lower body out of that human skin, to close his eyes and not feel what was about to happen. But there was a thin membrane between his consciousness and his body that he could not break through. He was like a prisoner tied to a rack, forced to keep his eyes open and watch the executioner's knife slowly approach his neck.

"No—!" he roared, his voice echoing inside the human skin, unable to escape.

"Don't want what?" the nine-tailed fox replied inwardly with a smile. "Don't want to avenge you? Didn't you want to kill Blood Hand Scholar? He cultivates the Blood Demon Art, is in the mid-stage of the Golden Core realm, not particularly strong but not weak either. It would take a long time to cut him with a sword. But the simplest way to kill him is like this—let him die at his happiest moment, before he even has time to activate his protective demonic arts."

"Use your own body to him—"

"Is this your body?" she interrupted him, her tone suddenly turning cold. "Lin Jingxuan, have you forgotten—this body belongs to me now."

Then came a warm, damp sound.

The girl's waist slowly sank downwards.

The thin fabric, soaked through by the weight and temperature of the two people, clung translucently to their skin. The girl closed her eyes, her lips parted slightly, and she let out a long, trembling sigh, as if squeezed from the deepest part of her throat.

The sigh reached Lin Jingxuan's ears like a rusty saw, sawing from the top of his head all the way to the soles of his feet.

Because he sensed it.

The inner wall of that human skin, at the lower half of his body, synchronously, precisely, and without delay transmitted the sensation of Bloodhand Scholar's entry. That sense of intrusion did not act directly on his body—there was still a thin layer of human skin in between—but the human skin membrane was too thin, so thin that it was practically useless, so thin that he could clearly perceive every detail of the man's organs entering and exiting the nine-tailed fox's body.

The warm, hard material rolled over the soft inner wall again and again, and the human skin faithfully transmitted the sensations of each friction, each stretching, and each contraction to Lin Jingxuan, who was wrapped inside.

He was being violated by a man.

Through that damned human skin, he was feeling the genitals of a rogue demonic cultivator, soaked in sweat, moving in and out between his legs. The Blood-Handed Scholar's hands, which had choked countless women and whose fingernails were filled with congealed human blood, were gripping the girl's smooth, silky back tightly, leaving red marks on the skin—these marks appeared on the outside of the human skin, but the stinging pain penetrated the skin and pierced solidly into Lin Jingxuan's sensory nerves.

"Stop..." Lin Jingxuan's voice was already hoarse beyond recognition, "Please... kill him, kill him in any way, any way, just don't use this..."

"It hurts...?" The nine-tailed fox asked him in a very soft voice, her tone still alluring yet gentle, like a hunter whispering to his prey in a trap. "I was waiting for you to curse me like before, why did you suddenly stop? The Qingxiao sword cultivator who would rather die than submit, is now starting to say 'please'?"

She didn't give him a chance to answer.

The girl's waist began to rise and fall, the amplitude small and the frequency slow, but each descent was extremely firm. Her hands pressed against the Blood-Handed Scholar's chest, her nails digging into his flesh, leaving ten crescent-shaped marks. Her long hair fell down, the ends brushing against his cheeks and neck, bringing waves of subtle tickling.

From the outside, she looked exactly like a young girl experiencing love for the first time, clumsily and shyly trying to please a man decades older than her. Her movements were awkward, her breathing erratic, and every now and then she would let out a soft moan of frustration because she couldn't find her rhythm.

But all of that was just acting.

Lin Jingxuan could sense that the Nine-Tailed Fox's main consciousness wasn't involved in this act of intercourse at all. She was like an audience member sitting below the stage, legs crossed, eating sunflower seeds and watching the clumsy performance on stage. The one who truly bore the brunt of everything in this intercourse was him.

Every entry and exit, every friction, every exchange of body heat was deliberately, without any buffer, transmitted to him in its entirety. She was enjoying—not the pleasure of having intercourse with that disgusting, bloodied scholar, but the ugly posture of his being tortured—this depravity itself was what she found sweetest and most satisfying.

"Is it comfortable?" she whispered in his ear, this time using an external voice.

These words came from the girl's lips, sweet and soft, with a playful upward inflection at the end. Upon hearing this, Bloodhand Scholar seemed to be injected with adrenaline, his movements suddenly doubling in speed, his hands gripping the girl's waist as he thrust upwards wildly.

"Ah—!" The girl let out a high-pitched scream, her whole body arching backward, her waist forming a beautiful curve, her long hair falling onto the stone bed, the ends sweeping across the ground. Her lips parted, her tongue slightly protruding, licking her dry upper lip—that expression was one of complete surrender, utterly controlled by lust.

"So good...so good...brother is so amazing...ah...slower...don't go so fast...I can't take it anymore..."

Shameless words kept popping out of the girl's mouth, her voice sickeningly sweet, each word ending with the sound of someone who had been soaking in honey all night.

Lin Jingxuan's rationality snapped in that instant.

Those lewd words, every single one, came from his vocal cords. A young girl's vocal cords, a young girl's lips, a young girl's tongue—but ultimately, it was his throat, his last vestige of dignity as a man. And now, this body was using his voice to utter the most degrading, subservient moans to the enemy who had murdered his senior sister.

"Stop talking..." He knelt down deep within his consciousness, his voice filled with a utterly broken exhaustion, "I beg you... stop talking..."

"Why should I shut up?" she asked lazily, her voice still carrying that cunning, predatory smile. The conversation between their consciousnesses was incredibly fast. "He's telling the truth. Bloodhand Scholar's skills are indeed quite good. He's practiced the art of absorbing essence for decades. He's much better than a little swordsman like you who doesn't even know what a wedding night is."

As she spoke, the girl's waist became increasingly responsive to the Blood-Handed Scholar's thrusts, twisting more and more freely, completely unlike that of a virgin who had just lost her virginity. She braced herself against the stone bed with both hands, lying on her back, her long hair cascading down like a waterfall, and a series of soft, sticky, and indistinct moans escaping her throat.

The Blood-Handed Scholar was completely infatuated and lost all sense of caution. His eyes were bloodshot, his nostrils flared, and his lower body was moving almost frantically, but he didn't notice that the girl's originally pure almond-shaped eyes were gradually changing.

The upward curve of her eyes grew larger and larger, the dark golden light deep in her pupils grew stronger and stronger, and even the contours of her youthful face slowly shed their disguise in the pleasure of intercourse, gradually revealing the fox demon's true, eerie and beautiful appearance.

He wouldn't even notice that the girl's slender hand, pressed against his chest, was silently growing longer and sharper, its fingernails transforming into five claws gleaming with a cold pink light.

Just before the claws pierced his chest, the nine-tailed fox's consciousness gently parted a crack, and a thought was precisely, gently, and viciously sent into Lin Jingxuan's consciousness.

"I will take his life for you. But you haven't finished repaying the life essence you owe me yet."

Then, as Bloodhand Scholar unleashed his final, most exhilarating roar, the girl's lips curved slightly—not from the climax, but from the satisfaction of her plan succeeding.

She suddenly released her grip on Lin Jingxuan's throat.

Just a moment.

In less than a breath.

"Ah...so comfortable..."

As he uttered those words, Lin Jingxuan clearly felt that it was his own consciousness driving the sound from his vocal cords. Without any buffering or coercion, the Nine-Tailed Fox simply released his control, and his first reaction was that those lewd words slid out from the depths of his own consciousness, from his own mouth, in the familiar low, husky voice of a sword cultivator, one word at a time.

He immediately shut his mouth, but it was too late.

She said those words.

Driven by his own will, he uttered those words to an irreconcilable enemy.

This made him feel dirtier than any forced speech—

Because that moment was real.

After his body had been invaded and pleasure forcibly instilled so many times, his instincts had made him no stranger to this feeling, and he even had a slight expectation for it.