Playing with His Sword - Chapter 2

Chapter 2

I had utterly lost all face.

But then I remembered how, when my senior sister had been committing improper acts with his senior brother, she had accidentally triggered a sound-amplifying artifact, keeping the entire Sword Sect awake all night.

The Sword Sect had seen-well, heard-plenty of the world. This little incident was hardly worth mentioning.

I adjusted my mindset, stopped torturing myself internally, and began torturing others externally.

Hooking a strand of his hair, I drew it into my mouth and teased, “Your pure reputation is already ruined. Still not willing to submit?”

Qingheng looked over, desire darkening his eyes. His gaze lingered on my lips for a moment before he forced himself to look away.

In a low voice, he asked, “How many people have you used this on?”

Asking a Harmony Sect cultivator that was no different from asking someone what score they got on their sect entrance exam.

Far too intrusive.

I made a bold boast. “Relax. I’m very skilled. I guarantee you’ll get a taste and never want to leave.”

Qingheng frowned.

Oh. Wrong thing to say. Sword cultivators preferred that whole abstinent, repressed sort of vibe.

I corrected myself. “Don’t worry. I’ll only sleep with you once. I absolutely won’t cling afterward.”

Qingheng’s gaze turned cold, his knuckles clenching until they went white.

“Toying with someone and then abandoning them-is that the usual trick of your Harmony Sect?

“My senior brother’s Dao heart for the Heartless Way has already been destroyed. Was that not enough? Now you want to toy with me too?”

The strand of hair was yanked from my mouth.

Qingheng turned away with absolute resolve and strode through the secret realm until he found a cold pool. Without even blinking, he jumped in.

I didn’t even manage to grab the hem of his robe.

I nearly wailed in despair.

Senior Sister, look at what you’ve done. You’ve completely cut off the path for those of us who came after you.

White mist rose from the cold pool. Just looking at it felt like it would freeze my womb.

Qingheng’s flushed, feverish face instantly went pale, and the heat around him cooled all at once.

Like a blade being quenched.

Increasing hardness, strengthening durability, improving wear resistance, resisting fatigue.

It was an excellent method for forging swords.

With one light leap, he left me burning with desire.

My body was hot, my heart was itching, and I was about to be unable to endure it.

If only I had something “long” of my own.

Then, all of a sudden, I saw Qingheng’s sword lying casually on the bank, glowing faintly with a jade-like light.

An evil thought slowly surfaced.

If the man won’t pay, the sword can settle the debt. Your sword doesn’t have a Dao heart, does it?

I crept over.

The hilt was rounded, its texture warm and smooth, with fine patterns carved into it. It still held the lingering warmth of Qingheng’s aura.

Good stuff.

Stolen.