Disrobe! Disrobe! Hurry and Disrobe!

“…”

Throughout the journey, Su Wanqing kept her head bowed, the pain in her body rendering her unable to move. It felt as if she’d been struck by lightning.

Her skin felt nothing, yet the pain pierced to her bones, as if her marrow had been drained dry.

Was this the “loss of resistance” Chen Xueli spoke of?

Truly terrifying…

To alleviate the agony and distract herself, Su Wanqing began recalling what she knew about the Fallen Immortal Gu.

She couldn’t determine if the pain stemmed from the Fallen Immortal Gu or that strange crimson mark.

If it was the crimson mark, that was manageable—but if it was the Fallen Immortal Gu, it was far more alarming.

According to ancient texts and the original novel, planting the Fallen Immortal Gu was deceptively simple: ingest nearly invisible eggs, and it was done.

No matter the cultivation gap, the gu couldn’t be expelled.

Only the antidote from the heaven-defying demonic art “Fallen Immortal Prison” or the opposing righteous art “Heavenly Dao Record” could remove it.

The villainess, Chen Xueli, was the inheritor of the demonic art, while the righteous heroine held the Heavenly Dao Record.

The Heavenly Dao Record, as its name implied, was a technique crafted by the Heavenly Dao to nurture its successor.

The Fallen Immortal Prison, however, was a technique from ten thousand years ago that nearly annihilated the world, reducing it to nothingness.

The novel stated both arts were created by the Heavenly Dao.

The demonic art was born from the previous Heavenly Dao’s disillusionment with humanity, so unique that even the current Heavenly Dao couldn’t intervene or act against it—only able to punish its inheritor during their heavenly tribulation.

With no other option, the current Heavenly Dao created the opposing righteous art, tasking its inheritor to prevent catastrophe.

Right—the Heavenly Dao couldn’t directly interfere with Chen Xueli!

Su Wanqing suddenly recalled this critical, overlooked detail. No wonder such a massive deviation elicited no response.

Forgetting such vital information was understandable.

She wasn’t gifted with a photographic memory, and retaining the main plot after all these years was already impressive.

“?”

The creak of a door snapped Su Wanqing out of her thoughts, reminding her of the greater trouble awaiting.

“Master, we’re back.”

Chen Xueli gently placed the immobile Su Wanqing on the bed, deactivating the Love Gu’s effects.

“…”

At her disciple’s words, Su Wanqing opened her eyes, scanning her surroundings. Thankfully, it was her own room.

If Chen Xueli had taken her to her room, who knew what strange things awaited?

“Master, how do you feel now?”

“It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

Chen Xueli pulled a chair to the bedside.

Crossing her legs, she gazed at Su Wanqing—her flush mostly faded but still weakly slumped on the bed—slowly baring her fangs.

“Then, about the promise you made…”

“I’ll keep my word.”

Su Wanqing gritted her teeth, recalling her earlier disgrace.

To have uttered such shameless words—begging her disciple to take her back and agreeing to an unknown request—made her face flush again.

Without the pain’s interference, she realized she’d been outmaneuvered.

It was an open scheme—she couldn’t avoid being humiliated either way.

Had she resisted then, the cost would’ve been greater.

At least here, there were no others, unlike that path where someone might pass by.

She wasn’t an exhibitionist, and exposure wouldn’t just ruin her…

“Good thing you keep your promises.”

“Otherwise, your disciple was considering dragging you back if you played rogue.”

Chen Xueli’s words seemed like relief but carried a threatening undertone.

“I’ve never… broken my word.”

Still recovering from the pain, Su Wanqing clutched her left forearm, gasping heavily as the agony subsided.

Clenching her teeth through the journey left her jaw and cheeks sore.

“But before that, can you answer one question for your master?”

“Go ahead.”

Su Wanqing’s question piqued Chen Xueli’s curiosity—what could she want to know?

But her master’s next words sent a jolt through the girl’s heart.

“Does… it still hurt?”

After much hesitation, staring at the spot she’d slapped, Su Wanqing voiced the concern lingering in her heart.

Though answering meant facing her disciple’s inevitable bullying, she needed to know.

Even with Chen Xueli’s constant boundary-pushing, Su Wanqing couldn’t harden her heart.

After asking, she guiltily turned her head slightly, avoiding her disciple’s gaze.

“…”

Hearing her master’s concern, Chen Xueli’s aggressive demeanor softened considerably.

Her initial plan to thoroughly bully Su Wanqing wavered as her heart softened too.

Sincere hearts beget sincerity—a timeless strategy to breach defenses.

Her master’s care touched a soft spot within her.

Indeed, over the years, only her master truly cared for her well-being.

Others only cared about her demise, not her life.

“It doesn’t hurt. For a Foundation Establishment cultivator, it’s negligible.”

“Can’t you tell, Master?”

Chen Xueli answered without concealment, hoping to see Su Wanqing’s anger—only then could she steel herself.

But contrary to her wishes, her master displayed the most touching demeanor.

“I know.”

“It’s just… this was my first time hitting you, and I was afraid I didn’t control my strength…”

Su Wanqing’s voice grew fainter, trailing off into silence, her hand clutching her sleeve tighter.

She knew the truth but still felt uneasy.

Even after Chen Xueli admitted it barely hurt, her guilt didn’t lessen.

Seeing this, Chen Xueli was momentarily stunned, lost in memories.

She recalled her lonely past, nearly killed when her demonic art was exposed, chased by all.

Friends, family, even parents—all scorned her.

But the heavens weren’t entirely cruel; they let her meet Su Wanqing…

In novels, villains often fall due to a single misstep. Chen Xueli was no exception.

To her, the slumped Su Wanqing on the bed merged with the memory of their first meeting—a celestial beauty who became her heart’s eternal moonlight.

“Heh—”

Her attitude fully softened, brows relaxing as she shook her head with a self-deprecating smile, gazing gently at her indelible moonlight.

“?”

Su Wanqing was bewildered by this smile—the first time she’d seen her disciple so… normal.

After their falling out, Chen Xueli’s emotions had all been twisted love.

Never had she seemed so human.

“Master, do you know what my request is?”

“Tell me… as long as it’s not too much, I’ll agree.”

Su Wanqing steeled herself, bracing for unease but agreeing.

Her guilt made her decide inwardly to slightly lower her boundaries.

Unbeknownst to her, this leniency would plunge her future self into an even deeper abyss.

“I want to personally help Master change.”

“Your clothes are dirty—let your disciple dress you.”

“?”

Chen Xueli’s request stunned Su Wanqing, utterly confused by the situation.

Before she could react, her disciple began moving without hesitation.

“Come~ let your disciple help you disrobe—”

“You! Don’t come closer!”

“Rebel! Rebel!”

“Don’t tear my clothes!”

But no matter how Su Wanqing struggled, she was no match for Chen Xueli, and in the end, her disciple succeeded…