Chapter 62

Further on, the valley path opened onto a jade archway. The whole arch was carved from shimmering rainbow stone, glowing with a gentle radiance. Hanging from the arch was a plaque inscribed with three bold characters: "Hall of Bliss."
Mu Xue had lived in the Demon Spirit Realm long enough to have heard of Joyful City, once a bustling, extravagant city, now nothing but ruins and rumors.
Legend had it that the so-called Joyful City was named for its massive, dazzling temple, the Hall of Bliss. But strangely, no one had actually seen this hall in person. All anyone knew came from old stories and half-believed books.
Centuries after the city's destruction, no one had ever found a trace of that legendary hall, said to glow with boundless light and hold every treasure under the sky. Eventually the name “Hall of Bliss” just became a nickname for the whole lost city.
Who would have thought, the real Hall of Bliss was hidden deep underground, an entrance so secret it might as well have required a god to split open the land. Ordinary people never stood a chance of finding it.
Guided by her floating cloud, Mu Xue stepped up to the glittering archway, about to pass through,
"Wait." Cen Qianshan’s voice came from behind. He sat up slowly, knuckles pressed to his lips to hide his flush, slid off the cloud, steadied himself, and strode ahead through the arch first.
Mu Xue knew Cen Qianshan’s personality like the back of her hand. When he wanted to act cute, even the smallest scratch had him pouting pitifully. But when it came to a real fight, as long as he could stand, he’d never cower behind her.
He was like this as a child. And now, as a grown man, nothing had changed.
Mu Xue had bandaged his wounds herself; she knew exactly how bad they were. Even though Cen Qianshan forced himself to walk ahead, just these few steps had sweat beading at his hairline.
Mu Xue reached out and took his hand. "Slow down, let’s walk together."
Slow down, let’s walk side by side. She would never be someone’s shield, and neither would he. They supported each other, always standing guard for the other.
Hand in hand, the two of them stepped into the legendary Hall of Bliss.
Inside the temple, heaven and earth took form, yin and yang threaded through time and space, palatial rooms shimmered with golden jade, glittering and magnificent.
And like the murals back on the valley path, statues both blush-worthy and heart-racing appeared at every turn.
As Mu Xue passed those ornate doors, she was surprised to discover that many halls, grand and glittering from outside, turned out to be completely empty inside. Some had only a couple of oddly-posed deities, some were bare: four fresh, clean walls, and nothing at all.
Until they slowly arrived at a riotously colorful sanctuary.
Mu Xue looked up. Painted on the entrance were ancient patterns, a woman in striking red riding a fire dragon at the upper right. On the lower left, a pale-faced young man astride a water tiger, their eyes locked from across the distance, silent promises between their brows.
Inscribed down both sides: “In the position of Li, true yang is clothed in a veil, thus, woman; In Kan, inner fire forms a man. The tiger below, born of the waters from the kidney lake; the dragon above, soaring through the blazing mind.”
Mu Xue stopped, unable to look away.
According to the innate Bagua, the Li position is connected to yang, both top and bottom lines are yang, but the center line is yin, outer yang encasing inner yin. Thus, Li appears female despite its brightness.
Kan is the opposite, an exterior of yin with an inner thread of yang, so it becomes “Kan man.”
The technique Mu Xue cultivated required her to draw out her own primordial yang from Kan to balance Li’s true yin. Dragon embraces tiger; yin and yang unite. From this union arises the “elixir;” by slowly gathering the essence, a Golden Core is finally forged.
The mural before her so perfectly echoed her cultivation method and mental state that Mu Xue couldn’t help but push open the door for a closer look.
Unlike the bare emptiness elsewhere, this hall glowed soft and fragrant, the lighting gentle and warm.
To call it a palace was misleading, it looked much more like a lavish bedchamber. Gauzy screens, filmy curtains, and luminous pearls inlaid along the walls bathed everything in a tender, ambiguous gleam. At the center: a jade table, and a stunning, jewel-carved bed.
The moment Mu Xue entered, she noticed an entire wall scrawled with script. Curious, she approached, the heading read: “Enchantress Art.”
The text began with a quote from the Book of Changes: “Heaven and earth intermix, giving birth to all things; man and woman unite, and all beings are born. Without union, there can be no creation.”
The tone started formal, but a few lines farther, it abruptly shifted: “Thus, all beings arise from the union of yin and yang, and when yin and yang part, there is only death. So the Li Dragon tames the Water Tiger, yang harvested to fortify yin, only then can one truly align with the Dao, gain great wisdom, and obtain the gates of immortality.”
So, this was a fast-track method for female cultivators. By siphoning yang energy from others, a shortcut to forging pure yin and reaching the Golden Core. Ruthless, domineering, a method that viewed men as mere furnaces to be seized and used. But anyone who practiced it could, in days, refine their own yin, discarding the dross and condensing the gold. In the harsh world of cultivation, this was temptation incarnate.
After all, there were tens of thousands who entered the path, but next to none broke through to Golden Core, and stories of forming a Nascent Soul were rarer than legend. Who wouldn’t want a shortcut like this?
The entire wall was crammed with script, meticulously detailing the method. At the bottom, there were even step-by-step illustrations, given the nature of this technique, you could imagine how risqué those drawings were.
Mu Xue blushed scarlet and snuck a quick look at Cen Qianshan, only to find him peering back in utter confusion.
After some questions, she realized: in Cen Qianshan’s eyes, the wall was just blank. Not a single word or drawing to be seen.
"You can't see it? Not a word on this wall?" Mu Xue pointed at the Enchantress Art on the wall, incredulous.
Cen Qianshan shook his head. "What does it say?"
So this technique must only show itself to the one best suited for it, her.
"It’s... some kind of ‘control-your-man’ technique. Nothing good," Mu Xue coughed, relieved Cen Qianshan couldn’t see, and started dragging him toward the exit.
But the jade table in the middle of the room suddenly lit up. They leaned in: words scrolled across the surface, neat and clear," Only those who join the Joy Sect may inherit its legacy and gain the means to exit the Hall of Bliss. Otherwise, the underground palace is doorless; escape is forever impossible."
Mu Xue stared. "W-What’s that supposed to mean?"
Cen Qianshan frowned. "It means, basically, unless we learn a technique here, there’s no way out. Otherwise, we’re trapped forever."
They exchanged a look. After exploring all those temples, only Mu Xue had found anything, this one Enchantress Art, in this very room.
"That’s just cruel," Mu Xue muttered, her face darkening. "If someone isn’t compatible, or can’t even see the technique, or can’t cultivate, does that mean they’re doomed to die here for nothing?"
As if in response, new rows appeared beneath the table’s inscription: dozens of avatars in neat little squares, men of every age, some old, some young.
Mu Xue and Cen Qianshan peered closer, and recognized so many familiar faces. Zhuo Yu, Xiao Changge, Cheng Yan, plus the other sect disciples, all the Golden Core elders guarding the formation, even some demonic cultivators from the Demon Spirit Realm.
With a bit of calculation, it was basically all the male cultivators currently within the ruins of the Joyful City above.
The avatars were split into left and right blocks. The blue block was labeled “Chaste,” the pink “Unsealed.” Clearly, only those with untouched primordial yang were ideal candidates for assisting in this particular cultivation art.
A line of small print sat beneath: Choose as you wish, let your will decide. Master the divine art, and join my Hall of Bliss.
Meaning: Mu Xue could pick any one she fancied, the divine temple would drag them here for her, all to help her cultivate the Enchantress Art.
“Let’s go.” Mu Xue didn’t spare another glance at the sketches spread out before her. She grabbed Cen Qianshan and, without a shred of hesitation, strode toward the door. “We'll search every corner if we have to, there’s got to be a way out of here.”
Cen Qianshan couldn’t help but steal glances at her the whole way.
“What are you looking at?” Mu Xue snapped, not even bothering to look back as she crossed the threshold. Her face had darkened. “So-called powerful techniques, the right to run roughshod over others, the lure of picking any lover I want... In reality, all of it does nothing but ruin people. No matter if it's men or women, using your body or any advantage to force someone else, that’s just wrong. Disturbed and twisted. If I ever caved to that, even for a moment, my Dao heart would crumble. What good is fast progress if you lose yourself? You won’t get far in cultivation that way, no matter how quickly you improve.”
Cen Qianshan coughed gently. “I noticed your sect’s Xiao Changge, his spot on the map changed.”
Mu Xue: “Wait, what?”
“He used to be on the blue square, but right after we left, I saw he’d moved over to pink.”
Mu Xue: “What!?”
That color shift meant his primordial yang was lost. In the half a day since they’d entered the Hall of Bliss, what on earth had happened to Xiao Changge?
What Mu Xue didn’t know was that, not long after they left, in the dim, echoing hollows of that stone wall, a chaos of discarded clothes was left strewn in a heap.
A girl of the Night-Illuminating Tribe, in her human form, had clamped her teeth at the back of the youth’s neck, pinning him so he couldn’t escape.
Her wings, half snowy white, half mottled gray, spread wide, enfolding them both beneath their shelter.
“Let… let me up,” stammered Xiao Changge, blazing red from chin to brow.
“No way. You’d just run.” The girl lay draped across his back, nibbling the curve of his neck and the shell of his ear. “I like you. I like the way you smell. I just want to taste a little more.”
Xiao Changge buried his face in tense, muscular arms. After a long pause, he let out a very deep sigh. Flushed, he reached out to tug the Night-Illuminating maiden down into his arms, folding her against his chest.
“I’m sorry. I just… lost control.” He pressed his head against the soft hollow of her shoulder and mumbled his apology, voice muffled and low.
Not long ago, as the earth split beneath his feet, Xiao Changge had tumbled, entirely by chance, into this cave. A swirl of glowing, feathery moths swooped from the ceiling, their wings dusting the air with dreamy blue powder, and suddenly he’d been overwhelmed by an unbearably fierce heat that left all reason shredded.
That burning, so suffocating, so impossible to explain, was as if his whole body had been tossed on a spit, slow-roasted over open flame. Desperate for relief, he recited every calming mantra he knew, over and over, but nothing helped.
Then a small, icy hand had cupped his cheek and wrapped around his shoulder.
And with that, the last of his self-control snapped. In that damp, lost cave, all those fever-dreams of spring from his half-innocent youth burst suddenly into bloom, tangled with someone real.
“That was a male silkworm moth,” murmured the girl, the so-called Charm-Voice Moth, a messenger of the God of Pleasure. “No one human can resist its scales. The gods willed this joy for us. So why are you apologizing?” Her arms wrapped snugly around his neck. “Did I do it wrong? Did I not make you happy?”
“No, it’s not that, I… I…” Xiao Changge’s face was so red he might start bleeding, he couldn’t quite force the words out.
“I’m happy too, see? You lost your primordial yang, and my arms grew back!” With a delighted grin, she showed off her newly regrown arms and wings.
Xiao Changge hesitated a long moment before finally saying, “When we get out… will you come with me, back to my sect? I’ll tell my masters, and… I’ll take responsibility.”
The demon girl cocked her head, puzzled. “No, no, no. My Night-Illuminating Tribe doesn’t do lifelong partners. I don’t need you to take responsibility, and there’s no way I could live in a place like the Immortal Spirit Realm.”
Xiao Changge was stunned. “But, what about you?”
“I’ll raise our children on my own. With your amazing bloodline, I’m bound to have a whole batch of wonderful kids!” She sat up, gently touched her belly, then bent to drop a kiss on his lips.
“You really are adorable. Be careful, by the way, luckily you met me. If you’d ended up picked by a girl from the Devouring-Dragon or Eight-Leg Tribes, and you just sat around afterwards all dazed and clueless, trust me, you’d have lost your head (literally) and ended up as lunch.”
She flicked her wings and soared into the air with a carefree spin. “Goodbye, my precious human boy!”
Mu Xue and Cen Qianshan searched every inch of the divine temple, but found no real clues about the way out. Worse, they were totally sealed inside the Hall of Bliss now, even the rainbow-colored gatehouse was blocked off to them.
There was no sunrise or sunset in the Hall of Bliss; time simply leaked away, quietly and endlessly, until they lost all sense of how long they’d been trapped.
“This is bad. What if we end up like those seniors, stuck here for life?” Mu Xue muttered, tapping her fingers against the lone table in the only room they’d found with cultivation techniques written on the walls.
Why is it always me who gets picked for this kind of thing? First time I’ve ever been forced into cultivating something I didn’t even want.
The icons and faces on the table seemed to pulse and shimmer, as if at any moment she could point at one, and then, just like magic, a poor soul would be bundled up and delivered to her, ready for a very awkward “harvesting.”
“I…” Suddenly, a voice sounded behind her. “My primordial yang is still intact, too.”
Mu Xue whipped around instantly,
There he sat, turned away from her, perched on the edge of the massive white jade bed. After some silent struggle, he suddenly moved,
His shirt slipped off, revealing a shoulder still marked by old wounds; the sculpted curve of his shoulder blade tensed with nervous energy, pulling the corded lines of muscle across his back taut.
“It wouldn’t be forced. I’m… willing.” He sat with his back to Mu Xue, his voice perfectly calm and even. “You can take it however you’d like.”
Only the bright flush crawling up his pale ears and the nape of his neck betrayed just how tense and nervous he really was inside.