You’re really too outrageous, 86.

Qin Yue held the other firmly in his arms, one hand cradling the back of his head as he kissed him softly, coaxing him into playful intimacy; with the other hand, he soothed him gently along his back without betraying any intention.

The person in his embrace gradually let down his guard, reaching up to wrap his arms around Qin Yue’s neck, unable to resist responding in kind. After a long while, Qin Yue withdrew his lips, trailing kisses upward along the smooth skin, taking the other’s earlobe between his lips, softly licking and sucking. Luo Yu felt a warm itch blooming at his ear, spreading all the way down to his lower back, leaving him weak and tingling.

He instinctively shrank his neck, but could not resist the tender, intimate caresses. Shyly, he tilted his head aside, his rounded shoulders flushing a delicate pink. His breathing grew rapid, his large eyes misty, his mind hazy and adrift, any remaining reason flickering in and out—until it vanished altogether. His body, softened by the hot spring, could only cling tightly to Qin Yue, twining their necks together.

The two beautiful bodies fit together seamlessly. The friction at their roots and along bare skin seemed to kindle a fire within Luo Yu, burning away all reason. Unable to find Qin Yue’s lips, he instinctively burrowed into Qin Yue’s chest, biting his shoulder, licking his neck, stoking the flames further. Qin Yue gasped softly from the pain and lifted him higher with a sharp motion, lowering his head to bite at Luo Yu’s collarbone. His strong tongue swept down in one smooth motion, gliding over delicate skin until it reached the rosy peak of Luo Yu’s chest.

With unwavering intent, his tongue assaulted Luo Yu’s most sensitive spot. Qin Yue entwined their fingers to hold him steady, while his other hand slipped around behind, parting the peach-like cleft and gently pressing and exploring. Luo Yu trembled, overwhelmed by the tingling pleasure in his chest, oblivious to the faintly unusual sensations below. Seeing no resistance, Qin Yue released his hand, continuing to stroke Luo Yu’s body while caressing his lower back to distract him.

As the target area gradually relaxed, Qin Yue quietly positioned himself between Luo Yu’s legs, lifting one slender, sculpted leg, just about to seize the moment to enter—when suddenly his brows knit, and he turned toward the bamboo grove, shouting coldly, “Who’s there!” A ball of fire shot from his hand.

The fireball had barely reached the edge of the bamboo before a sudden gale scattered it. Immediately, a man appeared: wild, long hair, ruggedly handsome features, tall and broad, bare-chested with only a leather skirt wrapped around his waist—it was the beast Qiongqi.

Tension stood out on Qin Yue’s forehead as he gritted his teeth. “What are you lurking in the woods for?”

The man’s expression remained cool. “I’ve heard that ‘mutual affection brings endless joy,’ so I came to observe. You haven’t coupled yet, so by all means, continue.”

Luo Yu, dazed, finally came to his senses at Qin Yue’s shout. Realizing their compromising position, then seeing Qiongqi appear and hearing their exchange, he was thrown into utter chaos, nearly going mad.

With a flash, he donned his celestial robes, tears of frustration threatening to spill as he shouted, “How dare you spy on us! Aren’t you afraid of divine retribution?!”

The man blinked innocently. “I meant no offense and concealed myself. Since I’ve disturbed you, I shall remain silent.” With that, he walked to the edge of the spring, sat down, and stared at them intently, his eyes full of interest and anticipation—waiting, it seemed, for them to continue.

Luo Yu was speechless with mortification. Qin Yue trembled with fury, demanding, “How long have you been hiding there?”

The man replied coolly, “Since before nightfall, I have stood guard here.”

Luo Yu nearly lost his mind, roaring, “You must respect others’ privacy! You can’t just spy on people’s intimacy! If you must do such things, at least don’t watch others!”

Qin Yue was livid. “You’re awfully eager to learn!” With that, he grabbed Luo Yu and, not even pausing to dress, stormed away back to their room.

The man was perplexed: Why were they so angry? Would they continue tonight? Should he wait? The phoenix had said not to watch… but he’d already seen plenty, and the two of them did seem well-suited. Perhaps mutual affection was worth trying after all. He might as well go find his chosen mate and have a good talk.

Satisfied, the man left.

The next day, Qin Yue’s expression was wooden as Luo Yu dragged him to Elder Su’s quarters: first to check on their elder, and second to begin unsealing Qiongqi, which required internal examination. After last night’s farce, Luo Yu had a fair grasp of Qiongqi’s temperament: he was no different from a foolish husky!

Lifting the seal would not be a simple matter of a day or two. During his studies, Luo Yu learned the beast’s name—Guo Huo. As someone with great patience for the slow-witted, Luo Yu undertook a series of lessons for Guo Huo in human language, manners, and moral education. The beast, sealed for thousands of years without anyone to speak to, had not gone mad nor sought revenge—clearly, his upbringing hadn’t been entirely corrupted by his father.

Thus, scenes like this soon became common at Bamboo Courtyard:

Luo Yu, sternly: “So, after all that, do you realize your father’s mistakes? You must never repeat them!”

Guo Huo, dismissive: “He merely enjoyed watching mortals struggle. It was amusing, nothing more.”

Luo Yu, exasperated: “Your worldview is utterly crooked!”

Guo Huo, lazily flicking his tail: “My father rarely ate people—he enjoyed the spectacle. If he were a wolf or tiger, he’d swallow them in one bite, leaving mortals no chance to complain. My father was merciful, eating only nose and ears, but mortals bore grudges and spread rumors, bringing disaster upon him.”

Luo Yu, helpless: “Your worldview truly is warped…”

In short, their differences ran deep and would not easily be reconciled. Patriarch Ning and the sect leader soon recovered and resumed managing sect affairs. As Guo Huo’s supervisor, Bamboo Courtyard’s elders privately agreed: the ferocious beast could not be allowed to roam unchecked. Should he cause trouble, the consequences would be dire. For now, he remained within their control, had done no harm, and bore no grudge against the sect. It would be unwise to join forces with other Nascent Soul cultivators to subdue him—after all, there were few such experts, and no guarantee of success. If they failed, he could easily flee and bide his time for revenge, which would be disastrous. For now, they had little choice but to ask Sang Yi to interact with the beast as much as possible, hoping to reform him and guide him onto a virtuous path.

Thus, in the presence of the Bamboo Courtyard elders and Qin Yue and Luo Yu as witnesses, Guo Huo and Elder Su entered into a “mutual affection” agreement: Guo Huo promised not to force himself on Elder Su, and Elder Su promised not to turn hostile or start a fight.

A week later, Luo Yu had nearly mastered the technique for lifting Guo Huo’s internal seals. There was more than one layer, and he had been thorough in his precautions all those years ago.

On this day, both Luo Yu and Guo Huo were prepared for the ritual. Elder Su and Qin Yue looked on from the side. Guo Huo trusted Luo Yu completely, showing no fear of his spiritual power or consciousness entering his body—perhaps because he simply didn’t fear Luo Yu’s strength.

The two sat cross-legged on the couch, one behind the other, looking much like martial artists practicing together. Luo Yu pressed his palms to Guo Huo’s back, slowly sending out his spiritual sense and power, entering the meridians and reaching the dantian.

Inside Guo Huo’s dantian was something different—no golden core, but a tiny figure. Luo Yu had seen it before when investigating the seal: a miniature Guo Huo—his Nascent Soul. At present, the little Guo Huo was wrapped in countless seals, like talismans pasted all over his body. Luo Yu carefully sent his power forth, selecting the outermost layer to begin lifting the seal.

Soon, the seal began to loosen. Luo Yu was pleased and about to continue when a surge of spiritual power rebounded, jolting him back onto the couch. He quickly opened his eyes to see Guo Huo still sitting with eyes closed, features tense, as if resisting something. Startled, Luo Yu asked, “What happened? I was unsealing it just fine… why did something go wrong?”

Qin Yue replied woodenly, “It seems he pushed you out himself.”

Guo Huo regulated his breathing for a long while before his expression eased. Opening his eyes, he said, “This seal cannot be removed!”

Luo Yu was bewildered. “Why not? Didn’t you say you wanted the seal lifted? Are you picking and choosing? Was it you who pushed me out just now?”

Guo Huo nodded, puzzled. “When the seal loosened, I felt my spiritual energy swell, as if my body would burst. If I remove it, my soul will shatter and I’ll die.”

Luo Yu thought for a moment. “If that’s so, then the seal should stay. I’ve heard that Nascent Soul cultivators are the highest rank now—any above that have all vanished mysteriously. I always wondered how you survived. Now it seems your seal may have saved your life.”

Su Sangyi listened gravely. “So, the great cultivators all perished when their souls shattered?”

Luo Yu frowned. “We found the corpses of powerful cultivators in a secret passage recently. They seemed to have died suddenly while researching an array, with no external wounds, still sitting in meditation. I suspect they were resisting spiritual energy gone out of control.”

At his words, all fell into deep thought. If an uncontrollable surge of spiritual energy could shatter the soul, there would be no trace left. Both soul and energy are intangible; when cultivators meditate, they absorb spiritual energy from nature, blending it with their own as a kind of “refinement.” If their soul was burst by their own energy, it would dissipate as soul-smoke, not returning to pure spirit nor leaving a mark on the body. Unless the energy itself exploded, in which case even the body would vanish.

After a long silence, Qin Yue suddenly said, “How could refined energy destroy one’s own soul? In theory, you can only absorb as much as your capacity allows… It truly is a mystery.”

Luo Yu lay back, pondering, and suddenly said, “Atmospheric pressure… Could the spiritual energy of nature also exert pressure?”

Elder Su asked curiously, “What is atmospheric pressure?”

Luo Yu explained, “If a person is in a vacuum, their body will rupture and die. If a soul contains much more spiritual energy than the surroundings, maybe something similar could happen. Of course, it’s just a theory. If I’m right… the great cultivators perished for this reason. The root cause is that spiritual energy has diminished, or there are too many cultivators—like too many fish in a pond, the oxygen runs out, and mass death follows.”

Comrade Cultivation Record, chapter 86—complete!