They’re Coming for Me?

The beings in the paintings, because they were originally born from the images themselves, were spiritual entities formed from the paintings.

Thus, they could be called Painting Spirits.

Pills may form pill spirits.
Artifacts may form artifact spirits.
Mountains, rivers, plants, and all things in the world, as long as they possess enough spiritual essence, may eventually nurture a spirit of their own.

If left to develop naturally, it would require an environment rich in spiritual energy and countless years of refinement.

The process was extremely long, and most things would decay to dust long before ever forming a spirit.

Of course, to a cultivator powerful enough to be called a Great Expert, helping something form a spirit would be as easy as lifting a hand.

For example, the sword that Qin Ximo had worn for more than two hundred years had only produced the faintest trace of spiritual awareness.

It could not even be considered a real spirit, and was far from forming a physical presence.

Qin Ximo did not know whether the Painting Spirits before her were created intentionally or formed naturally over time.

However, she was certain of one thing now.

These Painting Spirits regarded this hall as their territory.

And they, who had intruded without permission, were without a doubt the enemies to be driven out.

Things happened quickly.

When the Painting Spirits surged toward them, Qin Ximo swung her sword.

She did not rely on complex techniques or flashy spells.

Her sword arts, honed consistently for centuries, were her everything.

Her sword energy, infused with spiritual power, struck the Painting Spirits faster than mortal eyes could follow.

The moment her sword qi touched their forms, it split them cleanly in two.

Crack… crack…

The Painting Spirits fell, yet even when sliced apart, they still retained life and awareness.

They did not seem to understand pain.

Nor did they fear death.

Dragging their broken forms across the floor, they released soft, bewitching whispers:

“Ah…”

“Life… is short…”

“Why not…”

“Enjoy pleasure… while you can…”

Qin Ximo frowned and immediately shut off her sense of hearing.

But even with her hearing sealed, she could still feel those voices trying to burrow into her mind.

Like parasitic worms, they writhed and gnawed, attempting to seize control of her body.

“Mm…” Qin Ximo let out a low breath.

These Painting Spirits looked fragile enough to tear apart casually.

But even if broken, they reformed.

And the sensations their whispers stirred in the body… were foreign and dangerous.

A strange heat surged within her lower abdomen.

Not her dantian—somewhere deeper.
A place she had ignored all her life.

Meanwhile, the Painting Spirits had also moved toward Lu Qianyun’s side.

Their faces were full of seductive smiles, reaching toward Cao Xueyan with hungry intent.

“Wait—why me?!”

Cao Xueyan felt a chill run down her spine.

The Painting Spirits’ target was—her?

Lu Qianyun realized the same almost instantly.

So the stories from the Hehuan Sect ancestors about Painting Spirits were not lies—
But the crucial detail was that these Painting Spirits were drawn to maidens untouched by men.

Qin Ximo, of course, was still pure.

She had never liked or been involved with anyone in that way.

There were two more present who were also untouched.
Lu Qianyun herself.
And Cao Xueyan.

Lu Qianyun thought:

I may tease others, but no one touches me.

As for Cao Xueyan, her innate yin essence was precious beyond measure.

No wonder the Painting Spirits were drawn like wolves to the scent of meat.

Their eyes were filled with hunger, seduction, and vicious desire.

They approached Cao Xueyan, trembling with excitement.

Cao Xueyan felt goosebumps all over her.

“Saintess, be careful!”

The Hehuan Sect disciples and protectors did not understand what these spirits were.

Seeing them approach, they immediately attacked.

But compared to Qin Ximo’s swift swordsmanship, their attacks were weak.

The Painting Spirits only rippled, their forms blurring for a moment before restoring.

The two Golden Core Protectors did significant damage, almost dispersing a few of the spirits entirely.

But both groups of Painting Spirits began to reform, gathering their scattered essence back into shape.

They were like cockroaches—hard to kill.

“I’ll go tear the paintings apart.”

Qin Ximo understood now.

To destroy the Painting Spirits, she had to destroy their medium—the spring paintings themselves.

The paintings were their vessels.

“Qin Immortal, think carefully.” Lu Qianyun covered her mouth lightly.

“This place is called the Dual Cultivation Grand Hall. It is where disciples exchange cultivation experience.”

“Hmph.” Qin Ximo snorted coldly.

“What shameless nonsense. Call it what it is—a den of debauchery. Your so-called Hehuan techniques are nothing but vulgar filth.”

“Qin Immortal, you misunderstand.” Lu Qianyun’s voice carried a trace of displeasure.

“Our sect’s cultivation method is a true method that leads to the Great Dao. Otherwise, how do you think this vast blessed cave estate was created?”

Qin Ximo had no patience for her words.

Her sword moved before her tongue.

A sharp wind surged.

In an instant, several folding screens bearing spring paintings were cleaved apart.

Before the fragments even touched the ground, Qin Ximo sent out another burst of sword qi.

The fragments were shredded into grains of dust.

The Painting Spirits screamed.

Their essence no longer reformed.

Instead, it boiled and evaporated into the air.

On the other side, Lu Qianyun grabbed a Painting Spirit by the throat.

This one had taken the form of a seductive woman, eyes burning with hunger for Cao Xueyan.

“Get away. Don’t you dare touch her with your filthy hands.”

Lu Qianyun’s face darkened as she slammed the spirit into the ground.

The female Protector shook her copper bell.

An invisible wave shattered the spirit into pieces.

Before the broken essence could reform, Qin Ximo destroyed its painting vessel.

“AAAAAAHHH!”

The spirit’s scream echoed directly inside their skulls.

Cao Xueyan winced, covering her ears—but it was useless.

Lu Qianyun called out lightly:

“Qin Immortal, be mindful. Perhaps the Nascent Soul method you seek is hidden among those paintings.”

Qin Ximo’s sword halted.

She glared coldly at Lu Qianyun.

“You demonic witch!”

If the Nascent Soul technique was really hidden in something this obscene…

What kind of disgraceful cultivation method would that be?