Master, Your Heart Is in Turmoil~

A fine drizzle fell, and on a bamboo-lined path near the mountain of Heavenly Sword Pavilion, two graceful figures walked under oil-paper umbrellas.
One wore a plain robe with silver hair, like a celestial maiden descended to the mortal world.

The other had dark tresses and brocade attire, akin to a ribbon of Xiang River winding around a bright moon.

They moved one ahead, one behind, their steps swift, with no mind to admire the rainy bamboo scenery.

Suddenly, the leading Su Wanqing halted, standing quietly, waiting for Chen Xueli to catch up.

Before her disciple could react, Su Wanqing pinned her against the wall.

“Don’t move.”

“Chen Xueli, I know you’re a madwoman cultivating that heaven-defying demonic art, but mad or not, aren’t you being too brazen?”

Su Wanqing gripped Chen Xueli’s wrist with one hand, summoning her sword with the other to press it against her disciple’s throat, interrogating the rebel before her.

Yet her opponent offered no answer, countering with a question of her own.

“Oh? Is Master regretting now?”
“Planning to check if your disciple’s heart is truly black?”

This path led only to Qiongxiao Peak, rarely traversed by outsiders, so Chen Xueli dropped her facade, no longer feigning detachment.

Facing Su Wanqing’s restraint, she showed no fear, her aura subtly overpowering her furious master.

“Answer me!”
“What if I am? What if I’m not?”

“You still dare to talk back.”

Su Wanqing pressed the sword down harder; a single stroke would slit Chen Xueli’s throat.

During the recent meeting, she couldn’t fathom the consequences of exposure, nor had she imagined her disciple’s audacity.

This time, she was truly enraged, hence the warning.

But this perilous move didn’t intimidate the rebel; her finger against the blade, she pushed the sword away with a triumphant smile.

“Master, since you can’t bring yourself to strike, why scare your disciple like this?”
“This thing isn’t fun to play with.”

“Why not talk instead—”

Abruptly, Chen Xueli’s hand cupped Su Wanqing’s cheek, gently caressing that exquisite immortal visage.

“How’s your disciple’s massage technique?”

“You…”

At this point, Su Wanqing knew she couldn’t bluff her way through; she swatted away the rebel’s hand, utterly baffled by her logic.

“What exactly do you want?”

“Your disciple said it—nothing but you, Master.”

The girl’s hand moved to the back of Su Wanqing’s head, gently pressing it to her shoulder, whispering into her master’s ear.

“I want your body, and even more, your heart.”

Her finger then lightly tapped the “beloved” master’s chest, the soft warmth eliciting a sigh.

“The first thing your disciple must do is strip away this immortal poise of yours.”

“Only then can Master no longer be Master, but Su Wanqing—mine alone.”

“Think of how wretched you looked then; where was any trace of a master’s dignity?”

“That’s when you were truly yourself, not forcing this desireless detachment.”

Their posture now was intimate as lips to teeth; to an outsider, they resembled no master and disciple.

If someone passed and saw these two stunning figures so entwined, they’d surely marvel at the picturesque sight.

“You might claim my body, but the rest…”
“From the moment you laid hands on me, it was impossible—forever impossible.”

Drawn in by Chen Xueli’s words, Su Wanqing didn’t struggle at this distance, letting herself be held, oblivious to her disciple’s delighted expression.

“Why impossible?”

“Master, have you heard of ‘the mouth says no, but the heart says yes’?”

How could Su Wanqing be swayed by her rebel’s few words?

She knew it all for sophistry.

Her face nearly screamed disgust.

How could this disciple have the gall to say such things?

“Do I seem like I’m saying no but meaning yes?”

“But your body is honest.”

“My body is honest?”

Su Wanqing couldn’t grasp Chen Xueli’s meaning, suspecting she was being strung along—the words grew more absurd.

“See for yourself.”

Without much explanation, Chen Xueli lifted Su Wanqing’s left forearm.

The sleeve slipped down, revealing the crimson mark and the Fallen Immortal Gu on her inner arm.

“Master may not have noticed, but it tells me the truth.”

“…”

Following her finger, Su Wanqing’s gaze settled on the crimson mark.

She knew the Fallen Immortal Gu, but this crimson one was beyond her knowledge.

Neither from her time in this cultivation world nor the original novel she’d read pre-transmigration.

She had no recollection of it, barely paying it mind.

The mark resembled a water droplet, its color mild, contrasting sharply with the nearby dark purple.

Unfamiliar as it was, Su Wanqing could tell it was likely another gu poison—or some trick from the demonic art.

Seeing it was enough, without Chen Xueli’s display, the marks faded swiftly, her arm returning to normal.

Curiosity piqued, Su Wanqing asked, for only in knowing could she find a way to remove it.

“What is th—”

But before she finished, Chen Xueli’s finger sealed her lips.

“You’ll know its effect soon enough.”

“Not that now.”

“Master has taught your disciple for years—swordplay, cultivation, life, and more.”

“Now, your disciple plans to teach Master something.”

“Heh? You, teach me?”

At the rebel’s audacity, Su Wanqing scoffed coldly, her sarcasm unmasked.

Truth be told, aside from crooked arts, she doubted Chen Xueli had anything to offer.

“Is that so?”

“Then let your disciple teach Master how to win a disciple’s favor?”

In a banter, their positions flipped—now Su Wanqing was pinned against the mountain wall by Chen Xueli.

“You… you… what are you—”

Instantly, profound unease surged within her, staring into those bewitching crimson eyes.

Su Wanqing crossed her arms over her chest, fearing another outrageous violation.

In her normal state, she could guard her purity.

But despite all precautions, she overlooked the crucial point!

“…Mmph…?”

Thump—

The sudden softness on her lips stunned Su Wanqing; her eyes widened, heart seemingly halting, staring blankly at the rebel mere inches away.

Who could’ve foreseen Chen Xueli defying her master so brazenly outdoors?

This path was seldom trod, but not entirely deserted.

The scenery here was top-tier in Heavenly Sword Pavilion.

Especially in rain, bamboo scent mingling with fresh air drew occasional disciples for respite.

If… if someone passed by…

Su Wanqing dared not imagine the fallout.

This was far worse than the meeting incident!

Yet even amid this defiance, this ultimate outrage, Su Wanqing didn’t immediately push her away.

The moment their lips met, she blanked out, unsure what to do.

“Mmph…!”

Gradually regaining herself, Su Wanqing bit down hard on Chen Xueli’s lip, forcing her release.

“Hiss—”

“It stings a bit, but it was worth it—Master’s lips are truly sweet~”

Wiping the blood from her lips with her hand’s back, Chen Xueli harbored no grudge, even savoring it.

Without waiting for the victim’s retort, she raised her forearm again, explaining.

“This is its effect.”

Now, the crimson mark on Su Wanqing’s fair skin blazed brighter.

As her breathing and heartbeat raced, shame flooded her mind and heart.

In just two or three breaths, the mark’s hue turned a vivid blood-red, like cinnabar.

“How to explain this?”

Chen Xueli wiped the blood from Su Wanqing’s lips, as if boasting, as if a ploy to unsettle her, smirking as she reminded:

“Master, your heart is in turmoil—”