The azure sky was as if washed clean. The large ship docked at the harbor, where many masts stood, not as tightly guarded or oppressive as Meng Qi had imagined.
Standing at the pier was a young girl of eighteen or nineteen. Her hair was tied in a casual cloud bun. Her face was fair and tender, her nose straight and prominent, her eyebrows and eyes clearly defined.
She wore a pink-white dress that accentuated her delicate, smooth skin. Among her features, her eyes stood out the most, a mixture of innocent charm and silken allure.
“The Bodhisattva has received the message from Qianli Island and understands the situation. She invites Master Poisonous Hand to meet at Dales Palace,” the girl said, gracefully bowing.
“Alright.” The sea breeze blew wildly, swaying Meng Qi’s green robe with a rustling sound, yet he remained as steady as a mountain, his aura as deep as the ocean, as he slowly stepped off the ship.
Ying Ning smiled brightly and returned the bow. “May I ask for the lady’s honorable name?”
“My humble name is Le Huan, a common disciple from Lihua Island,” the girl replied flustered and hurriedly, seemingly unprepared for Ying Ning’s warmth.
Ying Ning winked at Meng Qi, then linked arms with Le Huan, warmly inquiring about Lihua Island and Lady Lianyu. Le Huan held nothing back, answering honestly, which gave Meng Qi a deeper understanding of the place.
Beyond the pier stretched streets crisscrossing in all directions, lined with shops and vendors selling all sorts of goods. Everywhere, faint and indistinct moaning sounds floated in the air, truly evoking a springtime sensuality that made one’s body warm and weak, unable to walk steadily.
There weren’t many people on the streets—some lone girls, couples strolling hand in hand, and women surrounded by several men. Occasionally, one could see corners where flesh writhed, bare arms and fair skin visible, exuding a lingering, lustful scent.
Le Huan led Meng Qi and Ying Ning through the streets, heading straight for the mountain at the far end. As they passed an intersection, suddenly a beggar rushed from the roadside. Though ragged, his clothes were clean. With a face full of pleading, he tightly hugged Le Huan’s slender leg, repeatedly begging, “Female Bodhisattva, have mercy, have mercy.”
“Lihua Island also has beggars…” Meng Qi, like any seasoned old master, remained expressionless while scanning the surroundings, noticing dozens of beggars gathered under the eaves along this street.
Le Huan frowned, kicked her leg free from the beggar’s grasp, and pouted, “They were once the cauldron partners of the Bodhisattva, elders, and senior sisters. Due to their lack of progress, they lost even the residual effects of medicinal ingredients. Without special talents or favor, they became servants, doing odd jobs. Thus, they have no one close to them, unable to enjoy intimacy. Those with more ability seduce other disciples, while the weaker ones, like these, beg daily for a fleeting moment of pleasure.”
Begging for that? Despite his vast experience, Meng Qi felt a cold sweat. Indeed, in this vast world, nothing is too strange. Yet these people, having fallen so low, still refused to leave Lihua Island. It sufficiently showed the island’s temptation, making carnal pleasures akin to an addiction, impossible to break free from.
As Le Huan spoke, she glanced down the street. Suddenly, her gaze froze, fixated on a corner.
There sat another beggar, his clothes tattered and emitting a foul stench. His legs were abnormally twisted, seemingly broken in a fight over begging rights.
His body was emaciated, his face handsome but marred by sores, making him quite repulsive. His lips were dry and peeling. His eyes were timid yet filled with a voyeuristic obsession, gazing at Le Huan.
“How pitiful…” Le Huan whispered, her voice slightly hoarse, enough to stir the carnal desires of most men.
Meng Qi’s lips twitched slightly. In his perception, Le Huan’s gaze became dreamy, moist as if it would drip, her expression full of compassion and sorrow.
“How pitiful…” she repeated, suddenly turning to Meng Qi, her plea evident in her eyes, “Master Poisonous Hand, could you wait just a moment? He’s so pitiful. Allow this humble girl to offer him charity once.”
“Go ahead.” Meng Qi was at a loss for words, maintaining the calmness of an old master.
To be moved by this? The teachings of the Joyful Sect truly left normal people in awe!
Le Huan slowly approached the beggar. As she drew near, his gaze lifted, revealing a mixture of confusion, timidity, and infatuation.
She removed her pink-white dress, revealing her fair, tender back. Her slender figure curved beautifully at the waist, creating breathtaking curves. Then she raised her hand, undoing her bun. Her black, silky hair cascaded like a waterfall, spilling over her shoulders, partially covering her back, drawing collective gulps from the beggars.
Her expression was holy and compassionate. Under the beggar’s gaze of surprise, shock, and gratitude, she resembled a true Bodhisattva, stepping into the “mud,” slowly sitting down beside him, her pink-white skin contrasting with his yellowish-black. A long, drawn-out moan escaped her lips.
“Le Huan truly has a compassionate heart…” Ying Ning admired, slightly hiding behind Meng Qi to avoid the beggars’ lustful gazes.
Compassionate heart… Meng Qi felt he had long since become numb to the word “compassion.” If anyone ever called him compassionate again, he would only retort, “You’re compassionate! Your whole family is compassionate!”
He stood with his hands behind his back, gazing at the sky with a scholarly air, though in truth, he was simply speechless.
Lihua Island had its rules. Despite witnessing such a vivid scene, none of the beggars dared to join in, merely watching longingly, hoping the female Bodhisattva would show mercy and bring comfort to the entire street.
Soon, the beggar let out a satisfied yet reluctant groan, his body going limp. Le Huan’s back flushed pink, her arms tightening.
She kissed the beggar, her hands moving downward, then with a crack, realigned his bones. However, the beggar’s breath had already weakened, as if drained.
“This is considered replenishment too?” Meng Qi frowned slightly. Wasn’t this supposed to be an act of compassion?
Ying Ning answered solemnly, “There’s giving and receiving. Le Huan’s cultivation isn’t high. If she only gives without receiving, her blood would boil, like being under the strongest aphrodisiac. Without satisfaction, she would burn from internal fire and die. Actually, she received very little just now—equivalent to a normal man having intercourse two or three times with his wives. But this beggar, having been injured for a long time and physically depleted, collapsed from exhaustion.”
She explained it so matter-of-factly… Meng Qi decided to stop being surprised. After all, this was the domain of the Joyful Sect of the Su Nu Dao, a special case.
Le Huan put her dress back on, her pretty face flushed with a delicate red, her breathing slightly hurried, a few drops of sweat glistening on the sides of her nose. She pushed back the beggars’ reaching hands and returned to Meng Qi’s side, embarrassed, “I made the Master wait too long. Just now, I was overwhelmed with passion, the joy came too fast and strong, making it hard for me to stand up immediately.”
Was this something to be openly discussed? Meng Qi once again felt the troubles of being a person with conventional values.
He remained expressionless, slightly nodding, “Then continue leading the way.”
Le Huan glanced at Ying Ning, stuck out her pink tongue, then turned around, walking forward like a willow swaying gently in the breeze.
Past the town, they ascended stone steps, climbing upward. Meng Qi divided his attention, observing the flow of qi and the obvious array formations on Lihua Island.
This place was not as Ying Ning described—merely defending against outsiders and not restricting departures. From the hidden killing intent in the island’s qi, there were terrifying forbidden arrays. However, ordinary medicinal residues or cauldron partners attempting to leave would likely not be stopped by the Su Nu Dao disciples. They probably wouldn’t bother, preferring instead to find new ones. Even if the effects were similar to used medicinal residues, at least it would be a change of taste.
Hands behind his back, slowly ascending, Meng Qi appeared deep in thought, but in reality, his mind was churning with plans.
He absolutely must not encounter the Joyful Bodhisattva or any other masters of the Su Nu Dao. After Lianyu reports him, he must vanish without a trace, ensuring no suspicion falls upon the “Poisonous Hand Demon Lord.” Then, he should hide on Lihua Island, observing male disciples with potential who might sense the Overlord’s Severing Blade (Bawang Juedao). When the time is right, he will seize one, assume his identity, and enter the Su Nu Fairyland to cultivate.
Timing was crucial. He couldn’t act too early, because male disciples were frequently harvested. If the female partner wasn’t strong, he could use a counterfeit version of the Heavenly Devil’s Bliss combined with illusions to deceive. But if the female was at the Outer Scenery level, his identity would be exposed, placing him in extreme danger, forcing him to rely on unreliable escape methods like the Lanke Temple techniques or the Wheel Seal. Yet he couldn’t wait too long either—when the disciple was about to sense the Bawang Juedao, someone would certainly be secretly watching.
“The Xuan Nu Sect and the Joyful Bodhisattva’s faction aren’t on good terms. If given a choice, Shang Shuixian would definitely not share a cultivation ground with Lianyu…” Suddenly, Meng Qi thought of something. “Therefore, this place must have something special, like one of the entrances to the Su Nu Fairyland?”
He narrowed his eyes slightly, expression unchanged, following Le Huan to a grand palace ahead, its plaque smeared with lustful filth:
“Da Le Palace (Great Joy Palace).”
At the entrance stood a man. At first glance, he appeared around forty, but his face was wrinkled, his hair completely white, looking quite withered. A dark red slit ran through his brow, resembling a hidden eye. In his hand, he held a pitch-black longbow, with a quiver of seven golden-tipped arrows hanging at his waist.
Meng Qi examined him up and down, his heart stirring slightly, “Is this gentleman the ‘Three-Eyed Arrow God’ Li Wending?”
The man’s eyes were slightly murky and dull. After glancing at Meng Qi, he suddenly showed a hint of wariness and hostility, “Who are you?”
“He is the Poisonous Hand Demon Lord,” Le Huan introduced, casting a sidelong glance at the man. “Li Wending, you’ve already ruined your foundation, degraded from a delicacy to a snack. Why care about others?”
Indeed, it was the “Three-Eyed Arrow God” Li Wending. Meng Qi’s heart stirred. This was a famous figure from decades ago, a direct disciple of a top-tier sect, exceptionally talented, renowned for archery. In his early days of Outer Scenery, he could shoot an arrow twenty miles and kill a man. Once hailed as a potential Grandmaster, he disappeared mysteriously before even stepping onto the first Celestial Ladder, with no news since. Who would have thought he’d be found here on Lihua Island!
Li Wending’s breathing quickened, but he barely managed to suppress it, stepping aside and retreating.
Meng Qi didn’t look further and followed Le Huan inside.
“He is the longest surviving cauldron partner while the Bodhisattva was still alive. Originally at Outer Scenery Third Heaven, he fell in love deeply. Every time the Bodhisattva was intimate with other cauldron partners, his jealousy burned his spirit. During his own cultivation sessions, he couldn’t guard his essence and spirit, losing both his life force and cultivation. Eventually, he fell from being a delicacy to a snack. If it weren’t for the Bodhisattva’s lingering affection, he would have been sent to do chores long ago,” Le Huan mumbled.
“Hmph, being harvested yet still developing true feelings,” Meng Qi chuckled, stepping into the hall. Inside stood a golden bed, covered with white petals. A woman half-reclined against two muscular men, her sides and feet attended by handsome men offering eager service.
She wore a white gauze robe, her fair skin plump and tender, her face dignified and often carrying a compassionate expression, yet every part of her exuded an indescribable charm.
Lianyu Bodhisattva slightly moved her delicate ankle and smiled, “Poisonous Hand, it’s been many years. You’ve become even more unfathomable.”
Oh no! Meng Qi was momentarily stunned. This Poisonous Hand actually knew someone! He couldn’t help but pinch the Wheel Seal in his hand.
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