CHAPTER 117: 117- DU JUAN [1] (BONUS)

Lin Zhaoyue sauntered ahead, unbothered by the ominous air thickening with every step.

Her gait was light, almost whimsical, as if strolling through a garden, not the rotting breath of a venom-swamp.

Behind her, Du Juan exhaled sharply, gripping her sheathed sword like a lifeline.

Her eyes flicked warily around the terrain, and despite herself, she followed.

Internally, she prayed, half solemn, half sarcastic.

Clan Head Fang... if I make it out of this alive, I swear, you’d better compensate me with enough resources to buy a sect. How dare you send me alone with this unstable woman!

The ground softened beneath their feet, until finally... they arrived.

It was a swamp. Or what was left of one.

The terrain lay in ruin, gouged and shattered, as if a celestial beast had once clawed its fury into the earth.

Pools of stagnant poison shimmered with an unnatural luster.

One portion of the canopy above had collapsed entirely, allowing thin strands of sunlight to bleed down like the last gasp of hope.

Du Juan stepped into the ruined clearing, breath caught in her throat.

"Finally... a light amidst all this darkness," she muttered.

She was only able to see thanks to the thin veil of Lin Zhaoyue’s spiritual qi wrapping around her senses.

If not for that... It would be nothing but darkness after darkness, she thought bitterly. I wouldn’t even know if I stepped into a beast’s jaws until I was halfway digested.

A rustle from ahead.

Zhaoyue’s cheerful voice floated back. "Come along now, you’re too slow! These vipers won’t wait for our polite entrance!"

Du Juan’s grip tightened.

What an unstable woman... she thought. But of course, she dared not voice it.

After all, she had once stood at the level of Nascent Soul.

She knew well, a nascent soul cultivator like Lin Zhaoyue could hear her heartbeat... and tell whether it rang with truth or fear.

Especially now, when she was little better than a mortal.

As they moved deeper into the swamp, the air grew heavier with every step.

Even the insects fell silent.

And then—

The flowers came into view.

A clearing bloomed open, covered in an array of blossoms so unnaturally vivid they looked painted by illusion.

Crimson petals like fangs. Azure stalks that pulsed softly, as if breathing.

Blossoms in shapes she’d never seen before, glowing, swaying gently despite the still air.

But Du Juan didn’t smile.

Her throat tightened. She swallowed hard.

Her gaze slid to Lin Zhaoyue, who stood with arms outstretched, basking in the strange floral glow like a priestess receiving a divine vision.

Zhaoyue turned to her, eyes gleaming.

"What? Mesmerized by my beauty?"

Du Juan, stone-faced, muttered quietly: "Matriarch Fang..."

The effect was instantaneous.

Lin Zhaoyue’s smile stretched wider, eyes fluttering closed in near ecstasy.

For a heartbeat, she looked so pleased, so content, it seemed nothing else in the world mattered.

Danger? Spirit beasts? Who cared?

Du Juan observed her with an expression of mingled awe and terror.

She didn’t even bother checking if I was being genuine...

No. For her, the title alone is enough.

As long as I call her that, she might just let everything else slide...

She cleared her throat and carefully said, "With a group this large, Matriarch Fang... there’s a high chance an exotic spirit herb is present and they’re guarding it."

Then, after a slow breath, she added gravely:

"...And perhaps... a Nascent Soul-grade Viper Seduction Flower."

Zhaoyue turned her head, eyes narrowing with sudden interest.

And then, she smiled.

But this time, it held none of the earlier whimsy or bliss.

This smile was a razor’s edge, cold and infinitely dangerous.

"Du Juan," Zhaoyue purred, the name dripping with sudden, intense contemplation.

Her gaze was distant yet fiercely calculating.

"Tell me, Little Sister..." She took a step closer, the unnatural light playing across her sharp features.

"Do you think Fang Yuan..." A breathless pause, filled with raw, desperate longing. "...would finally take me as his wife... if I brought him the core of a Nascent Soul spirit beast?"

The question hung in the poisoned air, absurd and terrifying, laying bare the depth of her obsession, framed by the deadly beauty of the glowing, monstrous flowers.

Du Juan instinctively stumbled back a step, her worn boot sinking into the soft, sucking mire.

Her throat worked as she forced the words out, louder than intended: "Matriach Fang, I...!"

She caught herself, flustered, then plunged ahead, the lie tasting like swamp water: "In my heart, you’re already his one and only wife!"

The effect was immediate and terrifyingly radiant.

Lin Zhaoyue spun on her heel, her entire being igniting with manic joy.

A brilliant, explosive smile shattered her predatory intensity, transforming her face into something dazzling and unnerving, like sunlight glaring off poisoned ice.

"Aiyah! Little Sister!" she cried, her voice ringing with genuine, overwhelming delight. "You are too kind to me!"

Before Du Juan could blink, let alone raise her rusty heirloom sword as a feeble barrier, Lin Zhaoyue surged forward.

Arms like steel bands wrapped around her in a crushing embrace, lifting her slightly off the treacherous ground.

Du Juan gasped, her face instantly buried in the impossibly soft, fragrant silk covering Lin Zhaoyue’s chest, a stark, terrifying contrast to the swamp’s decay.

"Aww, don’t be scared, Little cuckoo," Lin Zhaoyue cooed, her voice dropping into a velvet murmur that vibrated directly into Du Juan’s muffled ear.

One hand came up to cradle the back of Du Juan’s head, pressing her deeper. "I’ll definitely take care of you."

The whisper turned intimate, laden with a promise that felt less like comfort and more like a life sentence. "Forever..."

Du Juan managed a strangled gulp, her nose filled with the scent of expensive perfume and underlying, potent spiritual energy. Panic flared, not just from the suffocating embrace or the terrifying promise, but from the sheer, embarrassing logistics of it.

Trapped, immobile, her vision filled only with expensive fabric and overwhelming softness, a single, desperate thought pierced the fog of fear:

I should have cultivated a taller body if I didn’t want to be perpetually smothered by her... assets!

"...and ever," Lin Zhaoyue breathed, the final words ghosting against Du Juan’s hair, sealing the suffocating vow.

(1/8 bonus)