Who punishes whom? The rebellion against Tian Gang!

Cao Xueyan simply couldn’t understand—why did Xiao Menglan have such an insatiable appetite in that regard?

She was like a tireless ox, plowing over and over again without end.

And really, who said it’s only the ox that gets exhausted, and never the field?

At this point, every bone in Cao Xueyan’s body felt as if it were falling apart.

The sorest spots were precisely the ones that had been “given extra attention.”

This wasn’t something she could just grit her teeth and endure anymore.

In the end, Cao Xueyan had no choice but to beg her master in the softest, most pitiful voice—eyes brimming with helplessness, face painted with flattery—only then would Xiao Menglan finally relent.

When it was over, Cao Xueyan soaked in the bath for a while to recover.

Then she rose, stepped out of the pool, and draped a towel over herself.

At some point, Xiao Menglan appeared beside her.

She didn’t care in the slightest about her exposed body, only slipped an arm affectionately around Cao Xueyan’s waist, whispering close to her ear:

“Did Master go too far just now?”

Cao Xueyan snorted.
“So you do know what ‘too far’ means.”

“That was my fault,” Xiao Menglan’s voice softened. “I was too caught up in my own pleasure, and forgot about you. Do you want me to apologize?”

“Better not,” Cao Xueyan said coolly. “Your disciple couldn’t bear it.”

Xiao Menglan sighed.

At first, Cao Xueyan’s initiative had excited her—but who would have thought things would end like that?

She had endured centuries of loneliness, and whenever she finally found release, she always lost herself too easily.

But Cao Xueyan was still only at the Qi Refining stage.

How could she possibly endure the storm of a Golden Core cultivator?

It wasn’t that Xiao Menglan hadn’t considered it—she was simply too enthralled by the intoxicating ecstasy of it all.

This time she had clearly gone overboard.

So instead of saying more, Xiao Menglan quietly used her spiritual power to dry Cao Xueyan’s wet hair.

Then she took up the towel, carefully wiping every drop of water from her disciple’s body.

Not a single bead was left behind.

Afterward, she brought clean underclothes and robes, dressing her personally.

For anyone else, having a Golden Core master do such things would have been unimaginable.

But Cao Xueyan, ungrateful as ever, didn’t seem moved. Once dressed, she simply turned and left the bath hall.

She went straight to the back kitchen, boiled half a pot of hot water, poured it into a bowl, and took out the pill Xiao Menglan had given her earlier.

She dropped one into the bowl and slowly dissolved it.

The liquid turned a murky brown, not thick, but bitter with the sharp smell of herbs.

In her previous life, Cao Xueyan had been terminally ill.

Her parents had dragged her everywhere seeking medicine, and bitter herbal decoctions had been unavoidable.

In this life, after joining the Qingyun Sword Sect, cultivation itself was inseparable from pills.

Every cultivator’s body was steeped in herbal essence from years of ingestion.

No alchemist here would bother with candy coatings—whatever herbs went into the furnace, that was the taste you got.

Cao Xueyan frowned at the bowl. She knew it wouldn’t taste pleasant, but she still raised it and drained it in one gulp.

The indescribable bitterness exploded in her mouth, shooting up into her sinuses, as if she had swallowed an entire tube of wasabi.

Caught off guard, she choked and gagged several times before her body adjusted.

As expected from Dan Peak’s work—the effects were immediate.

What slid down her throat wasn’t just medicine, but fire itself.

Not a burning fire, but a gentle one, warming her from the inside out.

Even though she had just come from a hot bath, the warmth in her body didn’t fade.

Since she was already in the kitchen, Cao Xueyan packed a food box for herself and returned to the bedroom—Xiao Menglan’s boudoir, not her own.

She hadn’t gone back to her little side-room in days. This bed was softer, cozier—and at night, it even came with a free oversized pillow.

If only that pillow didn’t roll over and press on her in the middle of the night, it would have been perfect.

Sure enough, when she entered, its owner was there, dressed not in her usual attire but a loose robe.

Cao Xueyan didn’t dare look too closely—the absence of anything beneath was obvious enough.

“Taken your medicine?” Xiao Menglan asked.

Cao Xueyan nodded.

Already she could taste the lingering bitterness in every breath she took.

Strengthening pills always came strong, and their potency was leagues above the mild nourishing or energy-restoring pellets she usually chewed.

“How do you feel?”

“This medicine is excellent.” Cao Xueyan’s voice was calm, as if nothing had happened earlier in the bath hall. “Thank you, Master. I feel much better already.”

And indeed—even the soreness and numbness left by her master’s earlier “assault” had eased.

“No need for thanks between us,” Xiao Menglan said warmly, taking the food box from her hands. “Let’s eat together. I’m hungry too.”

The food was plentiful, as always.

The maids never skimped, and the ingredients were all top-grade, rarely seen by outsiders.

This time, there were no sensual feeding games.

The two simply sat together like family, sharing a meal, chatting casually, even laughing once or twice.

The normalcy of it all was almost unsettling to Cao Xueyan.

She ate in silence until her bowl was empty, and still, Xiao Menglan hadn’t tried anything improper.

“You promised you’d cook for me yourself,” Xiao Menglan said suddenly.

“Wasn’t that a joke?”

“My words are iron. How could they be a joke?”

Cao Xueyan’s tone turned mocking.
“And you also promised to restrain yourself. Yet just now in the pool, you nearly ruined me.”

Xiao Menglan chuckled awkwardly, then quickly found her excuse.
“But you agreed, didn’t you? I wasn’t forcing myself on you.”

Cao Xueyan had no retort.

She had underestimated her master, and in doing so, had walked into the wolf’s den, the tiger’s jaws.

Thinking she was still upset, Xiao Menglan pulled her into her arms, coaxing softly:

“It was my fault. If you still feel wronged, then… punish me instead.”

Those words flipped heaven and earth upside down.

If the late Qingyun Ancestor could see this ridiculous pair, he might return from the grave in fury.

“Truly?” Cao Xueyan’s eyes lit up.

Xiao Menglan gritted her teeth and nodded.
“A promise is a promise.”

“…Forget it.”

Cao Xueyan immediately lost interest.

What could she do? The gap between Qi Refining and Foundation was already vast—let alone Qi Refining and Golden Core.

She had tried turning the tables once before.

It had been like scratching an itch for Xiao Menglan.

She had exhausted herself, only to end up half-dead while her master remained unfazed.

Why bother with something so thankless?

But Xiao Menglan’s eyes gleamed, as if she had flipped some hidden switch.
“Really don’t want to try?” she coaxed.

“Master, your expression is truly…”

Cao Xueyan swallowed the word pervert—and a mouthful of spit along with it.

Xiao Menglan’s loose robe slid from her shoulders.

First the pale curve of her neck.
Then the smooth slope of her shoulders.
And then…

Ah, sinful.

Cao Xueyan’s mouth went dry. Her eyes refused to turn away.

Xiao Menglan smiled with bewitching charm, leaning down slowly.