The Whetstone and the Kiss

Qin Yan lowered his gaze slightly, observing Fangyuan.

A mischievous smile played upon the young woman’s delicate face.

It was undeniably her making suggestive remarks.

An ancient being, having lived for centuries, was she truly attempting to make him blush with such words?

Qin Yan could only conclude that her approach was rather naive.

“What sort of position does Fangyuan have in mind?” Qin Yan inquired with an air of nonchalance.

“Naturally, whatever position Qin Yan prefers, that shall be the one.” A smile graced Fangyuan’s lips, and she blinked, yet her eyes remained highly vigilant, scanning the dark, distant expanse.

“And what if I wish to lead the way?” Qin Yan countered.

“Lead the way?

Such perilous endeavors are best left to me, Fangyuan,” she offered with a faint smile.

With a graceful sidestep, she slipped past Qin Yan, forging ahead.

“After all, should any mechanisms or hidden weapons emerge, it would be quite regrettable if your handsome face, Qin Yan, were to suffer any harm.”

So she was determined to seize the initiative, was she?

Qin Yan observed Fangyuan, who was now slightly bent as she forged ahead.

He chose not to contend for this.

After all, the young woman before him was a cultivator who had lived for centuries, undoubtedly far more adept and mature in handling such affairs than he.

Furthermore, Qin Yan perceived that Fangyuan harbored no true malice towards him; her ultimate goal, he surmised, was nothing more than his physical self…

“It appears, then, that Qin Yan no longer despises me?”

At that very moment, Fangyuan’s voice drifted back from the front.

“I do.” Qin Yan, observing Fangyuan’s subtly pouting rear, mused for a moment before responding, “And yet, I don’t.”

“Oh?”

A flicker of surprise crossed Fangyuan’s features.

“You, too, desire my assistance in your cultivation,” Qin Yan stated.

“However, while others merely covet my body, you are far more cunning, more insidious; you seek to claim both my affections and my physical self.

The realm of emotion is a path all cultivators must inevitably confront, and you are employing me as your whetstone.

Yet, your sincerity is striking, indeed, unexpectedly profound.”

“It appears Qin Yan remains as perceptive as ever.

This, however, is an overt strategy on my part, and its success hinges entirely on whether I can genuinely move your heart.” Fangyuan displayed not the slightest concern that Qin Yan had seen through her intentions.

While noble emotions elevate individuals and base emotions corrupt them, all beings possess feelings, especially cultivators.

To neglect this fundamental aspect would invariably leave a void in their cultivation journey.

There exists the so-called Path of Ruthlessness, where practitioners sever all emotional ties, even sacrificing their loved ones and kin.

Yet, upon reaching its zenith, they inevitably discover how profoundly it diverges from the ‘perfection‘ that cultivators ostensibly pursue.

Unless one truly lacks all emotion, yet if such a person existed, why would they relentlessly strive for what is termed freedom and power?

Where there is intent in the heart, emotion will inevitably bloom.

This emotional connection serves as the very lubricant for all things in the world, and especially for the path of cultivation.

One who merely dreams of becoming a millionaire is unlikely to achieve it; paradoxically, it is the individual driven by the desire to avoid being looked down upon who might actually attain such wealth.

“Perhaps.”

Qin Yan responded with an air of noncommittal acceptance.

He harbored no desire to assume the haughty demeanor of a male cultivator, nor to leverage such a position to manipulate Fangyuan.

Candidly, who would genuinely object to being propelled forward by a beautiful and formidable young woman?

Above all, he sought clarity of thought, and at this moment, Qin Yan’s mind felt remarkably unburdened and clear.

A powerful, reborn cultivator, Fangyuan, had openly declared her affection and intent to pursue him.

To play coy and wait for a higher bid was simply not Qin Yan’s nature, especially given that Fangyuan was hardly some ordinary native male of this world.

‘Interesting…’

Qin Yan’s straightforwardness left Fangyuan momentarily stunned; indeed, this man was truly unlike other men.

The two pressed onward, and after several dozen more steps, the passage abruptly opened into a small stone chamber, which materialized before them.

At the heart of the stone chamber stood a solitary stone platform, upon which rested a jade slip, faintly luminous to the naked eye.

Fangyuan extended her spiritual energy, meticulously scanning the surroundings, yet detected no hidden mechanisms or anomalies.

With a mere flick of her wrist, the jade slip soared into her waiting hand, and she immediately channeled her spiritual energy to examine its contents.

“It’s a pill formula—a sixth-grade pill formula!” Fangyuan declared.

“It recounts the tale of a cultivator pursued by Nascent Soul stage demon beasts.

Uncertain of her escape, she left this formula behind.

I recall hearing whispers of this item centuries ago: a cultivator, by sheer serendipity, chanced upon a pill formula within a hidden trove.

Leveraging this formula, they gained entry into the Tiancheng Sect in the northern territories.

For a period, that cultivator’s progress was astonishingly swift, but alas, later…”

Her words trailed off, leaving the narrative suspended.

Having heard only half the tale, Qin Yan’s curiosity naturally piqued, for this offered a glimpse into a tangible future.

He hadn’t anticipated, however, that Fangyuan would abruptly choose this moment to build suspense.

“What transpired thereafter?” Qin Yan inquired, a note of genuine curiosity in his voice.

“And why, pray tell, should I divulge that to you?” Fangyuan countered, her gaze playfully assessing Qin Yan.

“Unless, Qin Yan, you offer me some suitable recompense.

This is, after all, knowledge of the future—information whose immense value, I trust, is apparent to anyone.”

“What recompense do you seek?

Pills, spirit stones, or perhaps cultivation techniques?” Qin Yan inquired.

“No, no, no, I have no need for such trifles.

Having been granted a second life, if I were still wanting for these, I would truly have lived in utter futility,” Fangyuan declared with a smile.

“How about a kiss from you, and I shall reveal all?”

‘A kiss?’ Qin Yan’s gaze lingered on the alluring young woman before him.

The benefits had been laid out, but what of the potential drawbacks?

He offered no verbal reply, instead advancing slowly toward Fangyuan.

A flicker of surprise registered in Fangyuan’s eyes as she observed Qin Yan, who stood before her, strikingly handsome, embodying the very image of a banished immortal.

“How, precisely, do you wish for me to kiss you?”

As Qin Yan spoke, he extended a hand, gently hooking Fangyuan’s chin, a faint, knowing smile playing on his lips.

Witnessing Qin Yan in such a guise, Fangyuan found herself momentarily dumbfounded.

In her previous life, she had never been truly close to him; indeed, she had only ever been able to gaze upon his distant back.

In her memory, Qin Yan had always embodied an aloof, ethereal demeanor, untouched by the mundane world.

Yet now, it became clear that he was no untainted immortal; instead, he possessed a subtle, captivating charm, akin to a seductive demon.

This striking contrast, however, only served to ignite a deeper fervor within Fangyuan’s heart.

“I…”

Just as Fangyuan began to articulate her thoughts, Qin Yan’s face abruptly drew close.

The words on her lips remained unvoiced, as she felt a faint, unexpected pressure against her cheek.

She found herself utterly disarmed by Qin Yan.

A cultivator who had lived for centuries, yet she was momentarily rendered speechless.

This, she mused, was indeed the consequence of neglecting the cultivation of romantic affections.

Such an unfamiliar sensation left Fangyuan feeling profoundly vexed.

Then, her gaze fell upon Qin Yan, who had already retreated two steps, standing before her with a beaming, almost triumphant smile.

Involuntarily, she reached up to touch her cheek, poised to speak, yet the words caught in her throat.

She could only divert the conversation:

“That cultivator, it turns out, later perished.”

“Perished?”

A trace of surprise etched itself onto Qin Yan’s face as he inquired, “How did they meet their end?”

“Hmph!” Fangyuan scoffed, a cool note in her voice.

“That, my dear, is a tale for another price.

Allow me to consider it, and perhaps, just perhaps, I shall reveal it to you.”