Chapter Nine

After the storeroom door closed, Han Kui didn't even give Lin Jingxuan any time to prepare. Like a ravenous beast, he flipped the beautiful woman in his arms over and pressed her against a pile of dry firewood. The rough bark pierced Lin Jingxuan's back through his silk clothing, forcing him to bend over, his hands bracing against the firewood, his peach-colored skirt roughly lifted to his waist. Behind him came the crisp sound of metal buckles clinking as Han Kui unbuckled his belt, each sound like a countdown. His fingers dug into the cracks of the firewood, his nails embedding in the dry bark, his delicate fingertips aching from the rough surface.

“Madam, your body—” Han Kui’s hand covered his bare waist, the calluses on his fingertips from years of practicing the Bone Demon Technique scraping against his skin, carrying a nauseatingly rough warmth, “is softer than any female cultivator I have ever seen.”

Lin Jingxuan didn't answer. He buried his face in the woodpile, closed his eyes, and bit his lower lip hard. The smell of dry wood mixed with dust filled his nostrils, making him want to cough, but he held it in. He didn't want to make any sound, didn't want to give this beast behind him any reaction, didn't want him to know what he was going through. But his body betrayed him. When Han Kui's hand slid down his waist to his lower abdomen, the rough fingertips pressing against that sensitive spot through his skin, the muscles on the inside of his thigh involuntarily twitched. The twitch wasn't from fear, but from the familiar, shameful tingling sensation emanating from that point of pressure. His body had been repeatedly toyed with by the Nine-Tailed Fox until he remembered this feeling—each press would trigger a chain reaction, and before his brain could even react, his spinal nerves would send out signals of pleasure.

Han Kui felt her body tremble slightly, and a satisfied smile curved his lips. He didn't delay any longer, straightened his back, and got straight to the point.

"Ugh—!"

Lin Jingxuan bit his lower lip until it bled. A metallic, metallic taste of blood filled his mouth, but the pain was far from enough to counteract the intense, forceful intrusion emanating from his lower body. He could clearly feel every detail of Han Kui's penis entering and exiting his body—the thick, veiny shaft stretching open the folds of his vaginal walls, grinding against every sensitive spot, each thrust precisely grazing the tip of his genitals and the soft flesh covered in human skin. It was his body, his organs being squeezed and rubbed back and forth between his vagina and penis, the pleasure whipping at his willpower like a lash.

He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to recall Han Kui's sinister grin as he ripped open his senior sister's dantian with his bone claws, and the faces of his fellow disciples lying in pools of blood. But the image of hatred had barely surfaced when the next impact shattered it. His body trembled violently between these two extreme emotions—a deep-seated hatred on one side, and an equally deep-seated pleasure on the other; he was screaming to kill this man, yet involuntarily tightening the walls of his vagina to more closely accommodate his every thrust.

This contradiction was like a double-edged sword, cutting back and forth in his consciousness. He hated the man behind him, wishing he could crush his throat with his own hands. But each thrust injected pleasure into his body, making him unconsciously anticipate the next thrust while still hating him. Hatred and pleasure churned together in his chest, emitting a silent shriek. He couldn't distinguish which was the real him—the swordsman who wanted to kill his enemy, or the flesh that felt pleasure beneath his enemy.

"Madam, your waist... doesn't look like that of a widow at all." Han Kui panted heavily and quickened his pace. The muffled thuds of flesh colliding echoed in the storeroom. The pile of firewood creaked under the weight of the two people, and dry branches occasionally rolled off, hitting the ground with a crisp cracking sound.

Lin Jingxuan gritted his teeth and remained silent.

But the nine-tailed fox wouldn't allow him to remain silent. Deep within his consciousness, she sighed softly, a sigh tinged with indulgence and expectation, like watching a stubborn child who had fallen but refused to cry. Then her voice rang out, her tone as gentle as if she were imparting the incantation to an ordinary martial arts technique.

"My lord, what's the use of just lying there enduring it? Since we're already doing this, why not learn something? I'll teach you a unique secret technique of our Nine-Tailed Celestial Fox clan, specifically used to extract a man's essence during intercourse. Listen carefully, and don't forget every detail. The first move is called 'Abdominal Contraction and Spring Drainage.' You need to tighten your abdominal muscles inward, while at the same time, the soft flesh at the deepest part of your vagina should protrude slightly outward, forming a small depression, so that the tip of his penis fits perfectly into this depression. This way, his ejaculation will be caught by an invisible net, and once he ejaculates inside, his essence can never be withdrawn."

Lin Jingxuan gritted his teeth, letting out a muffled, defiant groan. But his body was more honest than his mind—the moment he heard the incantation, the muscles in his lower abdomen involuntarily tightened slightly. Han Kui was thrusting to her deepest point at that instant, and was suddenly gripped by the tightening soft flesh, letting out a comfortable hiss, his thrusting speed momentarily disrupted. He could feel the inner walls of his body automatically adjusting their position according to her incantation, and his genitals were trapped within this adjustment, each muscle contraction tightening it even more.

"don't want……"

“The second move,” she continued, completely ignoring his protests, “is called ‘Nine-Bend Dragon.’ You need to make the nine folds of the vaginal wall writhe from bottom to top, like nine snakes simultaneously coiling around the same pillar. Each snake has its own rhythm, but together they form a complete melody. Start from the bottom, contracting the outermost circle first, then the second, the third, and so on up to the ninth. The force of each circle should be even and the speed slow, so that he can clearly feel the compression of each layer of soft flesh. On the last ninth circle, speed it up slightly to give him a surprise.”

As she spoke, Lin Jingxuan felt the soft flesh inside his body begin to writhe in the way she described. It wasn't him controlling it—at least not initially. It was the nine-tailed fox spirit using a wisp of demonic power to guide the inner walls of his skin, demonstrating it to him at an extremely slow pace. The first ring of soft flesh gently contracted at the entrance, and Han Kui's movements paused, clearly feeling an unusual sense of envelopment. Then came the second ring, the third ring, layer upon layer, each layer deeper, warmer, and tighter than the last, like nine streams of warm water at different temperatures washing over the same patch of skin. Han Kui began to get excited, gripping her waist and increasing the speed of his thrusts, unaware that he was being locked onto by invisible tentacles.

"The third technique is called 'Soul Absorption and Spirit Stealing.' As the name suggests, this is a deadly skill. At the very moment the other person is about to climax, you must unleash an extremely strong suction force from the cervix, as if an invisible hand has reached in through the opening at the top of his penis, directly penetrating his seminal vesicle and uprooting the stored essence. This suction force must be precisely timed to the exact instant before he ejaculates—too early and he will become alert; too late and the essence will be released instinctively, making it impossible to completely absorb it. You must carefully feel his pulse—when his penis throbs three times per breath inside you, you can begin."

"Finally, the fourth technique is called 'Yin-Yang Reversal.' The principle behind this technique is to filter the essence that your partner ejaculates into your body through the inner wall of your human skin, transforming it into vital energy that you can absorb. You are a man and cannot directly receive male essence, but my human skin can do this transformation for you—after the essence enters the inner wall of my skin, it will be broken down into the most primitive vital energy by my demonic power, and then half of it will be given to you. This is considered dual cultivation. While you are ejaculating, you will receive vital energy replenished by the essence transformed from your partner's essence, so you can never stop. The more he ejaculates, the stronger you become."

The instruction was delivered casually, like reciting a recipe. Yet, under her guidance, Lin Jingxuan's body followed along step by step. He felt his lower abdomen tighten, felt the nine layers of soft flesh inside him begin to writhe spontaneously, and felt a warm suction accumulating at the cervix. Of course, there was a trace of guidance from the nine-tailed fox spirit, but the guidance was merely a demonstration; he was the true executor after the demonstration. Her demonic power gently pushed within him, helping him stabilize the rhythm of the first cycle of writhing. The remaining eight cycles were entirely his own responsibility to desperately tighten those soft flesh areas he had never actively controlled before.

He should have said no, he should have refused. But he didn't. Because he knew Han Kui would die. From the moment he told the Nine-Tailed Fox that this man was his enemy, Han Kui's fate was sealed—he would die like Blood-Handed Scholar and Cold Bone, drained into a dried-up corpse during the climax of intercourse. Lin Jingxuan hated this man and wanted him dead, in whatever way. But it was precisely because he witnessed and participated in his enemy's death in this way that his heart was torn apart even more—the thrill of revenge was real, and so was the physical pleasure; they were like two venomous snakes, simultaneously biting his heart.

He can't just choose one option.

Han Kui's breathing grew increasingly rapid, his movements increasingly violent, his entire being like a runaway battering ram, frantically pounding against the frail body beneath him. But in Lin Jingxuan's consciousness, he could no longer feel the initial pain and humiliation—instead, a strange, cold calm. He no longer passively endured; he took the initiative and stepped onto her.

The pent-up anger and pleasure erupted simultaneously. He rolled over, shoving Han Kui to the ground. Han Kui's back slammed against the dusty wooden floor of the storage room, a flicker of surprise crossing his face—he hadn't expected a seemingly frail woman to suddenly be so proactive. Lin Jingxuan straddled him, his long, loose hair falling across his cheeks. The peach blossom eyes peeking out from between his strands no longer held the previous forced bravado, but rather a cold, murderous resolve. He gave Han Kui no time to react, his hands bracing against the other's chest, his hips beginning to heave wildly.

"Madam, you—" Han Kui's eyes widened as he stared at the beautiful woman on top of him, a woman who seemed completely different from before. Her hips swayed wildly, each downward thrust engulfing his penis to the root, and each upward thrust almost completely withdrawing it, leaving only the tip. Her hair, which had been tied up in a bun during the previous impacts, cascaded down her back like a waterfall, tracing wild arcs in the air with the rise and fall of her body. Her breasts were faintly visible beneath her dress, which had fallen to her waist, and beads of sweat slid down her collarbone, landing on Han Kui's chest and abdomen. Her expression was a mixture of murderous intent and pleasure; her lips were tightly pursed, her brows slightly furrowed, but deep within her narrowed eyes gleamed an unrestrained physical ecstasy.

Han Kui wanted to say something, but her faster pace silenced him. With each downward thrust, her abdominal muscles tightened precisely, the nine layers of soft flesh rhythmically undulating like a coiled dragon, each layer pressing down, tightly enveloping Han Kui's genitals from head to toe. Her cervix was accumulating suction according to the principles of "soul-sucking," and with each deepest thrust, he could feel the suction intensifying, as if an invisible hand was clenching a fist, preparing to yank him open at the moment of ejaculation.

Han Kui's face began to turn pale. He felt his spiritual energy draining away at an uncontrollable rate, as if something was frantically sucking at his dantian along the point of their union, peeling away his cultivation layer by layer. He was all too familiar with this feeling—he had witnessed it countless times when he was harvesting the essence of female cultivators, but those women were always the passive ones, and he had never imagined that one day a woman would be the one harvesting his essence. In a panic, he raised his hand, his palm glowing with dark red demonic energy, and slammed it towards Lin Jingxuan's chest.

"Witch—!"

The palm strike, imbued with the demonic energy of a Golden Core cultivator, slammed solidly into Lin Jingxuan's chest. But Lin Jingxuan remained completely still, not even flinching. The moment the dark red demonic energy struck her skin, it was as if it had hit an invisible barrier, producing a low, muffled thud before vanishing without a trace, leaving only wisps of faint black smoke in the air. Han Kui's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets—he had used seventy percent of his strength in that palm strike; even a Golden Core cultivator would vomit blood if they took it head-on, yet this woman was completely unharmed?

"How is this possible—" He raised his hand and struck again, this time with all his might, the palm wind whistling as it hit her shoulder. The result was the same. The demonic energy dissipated completely from her skin, leaving not even a red mark.

Lin Jingxuan was also taken aback. He could feel the impact of Han Kui's palm strike on his skin, but the impact was absorbed, decomposed, and dissipated the moment it penetrated the skin, like punching a ball of cotton—all the force was dissipated, leaving only a negligible sensation inside. This feeling involuntarily reminded him of what the Nine-Tailed Fox had said before—that this human skin was the culmination of her thousand years of cultivation, and even though she had exhausted her own essence, the skin itself had not been destroyed.

"No need to block it." The nine-tailed fox spoke lazily at this moment, her tone as indifferent as if she were talking about what to have for dinner. "Husband, I forgot to tell you something. This skin of mine is not an ordinary skin."

Lin Jingxuan's waist didn't stop, but he asked in his mind, "What do you mean?"

"What I mean is—this human skin of mine is so tough that an attack from a Golden Core cultivator is like child's play. Let alone Han Kui, even if Yin Wujiu himself came, the demonic energy striking it wouldn't be able to penetrate. Not a single trace would remain on you."

Lin Jingxuan's heart skipped a beat.

"Actually, I've wanted to tell you this for a while, but I always felt it wasn't a big deal, and saying it would seem like showing off. Now that we're going to live together, I might as well explain—when this skin of mine was at its peak, it was a natal magic weapon that could withstand heavenly tribulations, and I was only half a step away from becoming an immortal. However, before the lightning tribulation arrived, I was hit over the head with a club, and this skin fell into the Burial Sword Abyss. So, my husband, you see, I didn't lie to you, did I? The 'recovering together' I told you about isn't the kind of deal a minor demon makes with a minor sword cultivator. I was originally a nine-tailed fox demon in the Mahayana stage, and I was about to ascend. The Yin Wujiu you want to kill is a descendant of the enemy who injured me—meaning that our enemies are ultimately the same group of people. Now you understand why I talked to you about Daoist partners, right?"

Lin Jingxuan froze for a moment. The Great Ascension Stage. That was a realm existing only in legends on the Cloudfall Continent, only half a step away from ascension to immortality. The woman controlling his body now was no ordinary fox demon, but an ancient monster just one step away from immortality. And Yin Wujiu's ancestor, along with others, had plotted against her, causing her to fall from the brink of ascension to the bottom, leaving her only a skin clinging to life at the bottom of the Burial Sword Abyss. This amount of information was too much, causing his mind to go blank for a brief moment.

But Han Kui didn't give him any respite. He was still alive, still beneath him, still slightly undulating. He only needed one last suction to close the net. Lin Jingxuan forcibly pulled his consciousness back to reality, tightening his waist and abdomen again, increasing the amplitude of his movements. Since he didn't have to worry about getting hurt, he could go all out. He no longer needed to be distracted by observing Han Kui's reaction, no longer needed to worry about being attacked, and could completely immerse himself in this slaughter.

Han Kui's face grew paler and paler. He tried to push the woman off him, but her legs clamped around his waist like iron clamps, and the inner walls of her vagina writhed incessantly, like a perpetually insatiable mouth frantically sucking at his yang energy. His vision began to blur, his ears rang, and his limbs grew weaker and weaker. He finally realized he had kicked a hornet's nest—this seemingly frail woman was no ordinary person, and might not even be human.

"You... what... are you..." he roared with his last ounce of strength, his voice hoarse and weak, as he punched her temple with all his might. Blood dripped from shattered knuckles onto the hair near her temple, but she didn't even blink.

"You don't need to know." Lin Jingxuan spoke coldly through her voice, then suddenly thrust downwards, pushing Han Kui's genitals to the deepest recess. Han Kui roared as she reached her climax, her seminal gate opening wide, and the essence accumulated over decades of arduous cultivation gushed out like a flood bursting its banks. At that instant, Lin Jingxuan activated his fourth technique, "Yin Yang Reversal"—the suction deep within the cervix precisely gripped the seminal gate, drawing every last drop of essence into the inner walls of her skin.

The instant his essence surged in, a massive, scorching energy penetrated the thin membrane of his skin and flowed into his body. This power was even more domineering than the Golden Elixir of the Blood-Handed Scholar from yesterday, but after being filtered through the skin, it became docile and obedient, flowing along the meridians into the shattered ruins of his dantian, where it was stored. At the same moment, his own essence also reached its critical point, and he felt his genitals release deep within the inner wall of the skin—a double orgasm exploded in the same instant, the gushing sensation of male ejaculation and the spasmodic contraction of female vagina striking his consciousness like two lightning bolts.

He knelt on Han Kui, tilting his head back, his long, torrential hair cascading down his back. His waist continued to contract automatically and slightly, absorbing the last drop of essence. Han Kui's life force was rapidly fading; his skin began to wither, his eye sockets sunken, and his lips turned ashen. The last thing he saw was the beautiful woman's face looking down at him—her expression a mixture of the flush of orgasm and the coldness of killing, a smile he couldn't understand playing at the corners of her lips.

In just a few breaths, Han Kui turned into a dried-up corpse, dying in the exact same way as his previous subordinates, Blood-Handed Scholar, and Cold Bone. Lin Jingxuan stood up from the corpse, his bare legs slightly weak, and he steadied himself by leaning against the nearby pile of firewood. Moonlight shone through the vent, illuminating her skin, which was covered in tiny beads of sweat. Her skin, flushed with an alluring pale pink after her orgasm, was covered in a crooked peach-colored dress, the collar mostly open, and the belt nowhere to be seen.

He stood there, panting heavily, feeling the warm current of his transformed essence flowing slowly through his meridians. The thrill of revenge and the physical pleasure merged at this moment into an extremely contradictory complex that he couldn't face. He had killed Han Kui with his own hands—not on the behalf of the Nine-Tailed Fox, but by himself. With this body, with the secret technique of absorbing essence that the fox had taught him, he had personally drained a Golden Core stage demonic cultivator clean from the inside out. He should have felt exhilarated, and he truly did. But mixed in with this exhilaration was a fact he couldn't ignore—he had taken the initiative. From the moment he pushed Han Kui to the ground, from the moment he straddled him, every thrust and every contraction was his own decision. The Nine-Tailed Fox was merely teaching, merely guiding; the one who did the work was himself. And in the process, he did indeed feel pleasure.

This pleasure made him hate himself even more than he hated Han Kui.

He leaned against the wall as he walked out of the storeroom, gently closing the door behind him. The corridor was empty, with moonlight streaming in from the window at the end. He reached the stairwell, bent down to pick up the clothes Han Kui had thrown on the floor, pulled out a small knife, and then turned to walk towards the alleyway.

Su Wan'er and her bound junior sister both looked up at the sound of footsteps. They saw a peach-colored figure emerge from the back door of the inn, her steps unsteady, but her back ramrod straight. She walked up to them, knelt down, and used a small knife to cut the ropes binding them. Her fingers, still trembling slightly from her orgasm, darted the knife tip across the rope before finding the right spot.

"Madam... are you alright?" Su Wan'er asked in a hoarse voice, her gaze unconsciously sweeping over the woman from head to toe. Her dress was rumpled and disheveled, tied at the waist with a hastily fastened knot; her loose hair concealed the red marks on her collarbone from Han Kui's earlier tugging, but not entirely, revealing several shocking finger marks on her fair skin. What bothered her even more was the extremely complex aura emanating from this woman—a mixture of demonic energy, demonic energy, and an extremely pure primordial energy belonging to a righteous cultivator. The simultaneous presence of these three incongruous auras on one person left Su Wan'er momentarily at a loss for how to react.

"I'm fine." Lin Jingxuan tried his best to keep his voice steady, but the woman's voice became even softer and hoarse after the climax, and it didn't sound like the words of a person who was fine at all. "Han Kui - is dead."

Su Wan'er was stunned. She helped her junior sister to her feet and glanced inside the storeroom. A desiccated corpse lay on the ground, its face frozen in a mixture of shock and fear, which made Su Wan'er gasp. She turned to look at the beautiful woman before her; the woman's clothes and hair were covered in dry grass and dust, but in the storeroom behind her lay the unmistakably dead corpse of a demonic cultivator. Su Wan'er was also a cultivator, so she could naturally recognize Han Kui's death—his entire life essence had been drained, his skin shriveled, and his bones atrophied—a classic case of absorbing yang energy to replenish yin.

"Thank you for saving my life, Madam." Su Wan'er bowed respectfully with her hands clasped, her voice filled with sincere gratitude. "I am Su Wan'er from the Qingyun Sword Sect. May I ask how you should address me, Madam? I will surely repay you handsomely in the future."

“…My surname is Shuang,” Lin Jingxuan answered with difficulty. He wasn’t very good at making up lies, so he could only borrow the fake surname she had used before.

“Madam Shuang.” Su Wan’er carefully memorized the name, then hesitated for a moment before finally asking, “May I ask, Madam Shuang, do you know… a friend of mine named Lin Jingxuan? He is about my height, a sword cultivator, twenty-three years old, with a rugged appearance, and a disciple of the Qingxiao Sword Sect. Just now, I seemed to vaguely sense a trace of his sword intent on the street, but only you were present when I caught up with him.”

Lin Jingxuan's blood froze instantly.

Su Wan'er sensed his sword intent. It must have been the aura he unintentionally released during his earlier orgasm from masturbation. Although faint, it was enough for Su Wan'er, a fellow righteous sword cultivator, to recognize. She had followed him, thinking it was a friend nearby, but only found a beautiful, unfamiliar woman.

He wanted to tell her the truth. He wanted to say—Wan'er, it's me, I am Lin Jingxuan. I'm still alive, but I've become like this, I'm wrapped in human skin, I share a body with a thousand-year-old fox demon. But he couldn't say it. Because once he did, Su Wan'er would know what had happened in the storeroom. She would know that the "Lin Jingxuan" she spoke of was pinned down by Han Kui, brought to orgasm, and even ultimately, she had willingly mounted him to drain him dry.

That was more painful for him than being killed, and more unbearable than any humiliation.

“Never heard of him.” He lowered his eyes, his voice flat and numb, as if he were talking about something completely unrelated to himself. “Never seen this person either.”

A flicker of disappointment crossed Su Wan'er's eyes, followed by a subtle sense of unease. As Madam Shuang spoke, her right hand unconsciously clenched into a fist, her knuckles turning white. Her voice, though calm, was too deliberate, as if reciting a prepared line. But Su Wan'er didn't dwell on it—she was injured, and her junior sister was still weak; now was not the time to press for answers. She took out a communication jade talisman from her robes and handed it over, solemnly saying, "Madam Shuang, this is a communication jade talisman from the Qingyun Sword Sect. If you ever need anything in the future, take this talisman to the Qingyun Sword Sect, and Wan'er will do everything in her power to help."

Lin Jingxuan took the jade talisman. His fingertips trembled slightly as they touched its cool surface. He nodded without speaking, afraid that his voice would falter if he opened his mouth again.

Su Wan'er clasped her hands in a respectful greeting again, then helped her junior sister turn and leave. Before leaving, she glanced back one last time—the peach-pink figure still stood there, clutching the communication jade talisman in her hand. A gentle breeze ruffled her long, loose hair, revealing a beautiful yet distraught face. This sight stirred an inexplicable bitterness in Su Wan'er's heart, but she didn't know why.

Lin Jingxuan stood rooted to the spot, watching Su Wan'er's figure gradually disappear into the depths of the alleyway, untouched by moonlight. His throat felt constricted, his chest aching. The communication jade talisman in his hand still carried the warmth of Su Wan'er's fingertips, but the hand holding it wasn't his own; it was the one he had received as "Lady Shuang." He had saved his former ally, but he had also denied his own existence in the most humiliating way. He couldn't utter his own name, nor dared he.

"She can't find that person named Lin Jingxuan anymore."

The nine-tailed fox's voice softly echoed in his mind, and she didn't continue the topic. She simply relaxed the lingering tension on the inner walls of his human skin, and swept the surface of his consciousness with the tip of her tail. The beautiful woman, who had been clutching the communication jade talisman in a daze, stood alone in the moonlight for a long time, until the night wind stopped and no more footsteps echoed from the alleyway, before finally taking her first steps, slowly and unsteadily walking back to the inn.