Chapter 159

Ning Chen was merely surprised by how pitiful the other party looked—he felt not an ounce of sympathy.

In the entire Qinglian Sect, he alone held absolute authority.

Anyone else who dared to act arrogant deserved to be put in their place!

At this moment, Liu Ruyan stepped forward gracefully, her voice soft as she said, “A-Chen, since it took so long, we got a little bored and cycled through a few extra rounds. It’s no big deal, right?”

They had only messed around a little outside, never touching the actual packaging.

Ning Chen’s eyelid twitched.

What a way to describe boredom.

“No matter,” he replied indifferently, glancing sideways at Liu Ruyan before issuing a firm command: “Go upstairs, loosen part of her seal—just enough for her to circulate spiritual energy but not release it. Once done, reseal her. No unnecessary words.”

Before forcibly molding Ji Yunjin into his subordinate, Ning Chen had no intention of releasing her—not even after she had absorbed his precious elixir.

The same went for Ji Qianyue.

Otherwise, who knew whether their familial loyalty might outweigh everything else?

“Understood, A-Chen,” Liu Ruyan responded softly.

Ning Chen paid her no further mind. Instead, as the rope suspending Ji Qianyue stopped spinning, he grabbed her hair and yanked her upward.

The once coldly elegant and proud face was now flushed with a sickly red, her eyes tightly shut, lips slightly parted as she gasped weakly.

Drool streaked down her chin, and her occasional twitches painted the picture of someone utterly broken—clear evidence of the torment she had just endured.

Ning Chen studied her for a moment before turning to Ji Zhiqing. “The drug you administered—if left untreated, could it be fatal?”

The green-haired beauty pondered briefly before answering seriously, “For mortals, yes. But given their cultivation, even sealed, they’d only suffer endlessly—unable to stop, but not dying.”

Good.

Ning Chen nodded in satisfaction.

With a casual wave, he dismissed them. “Leave. I don’t need you anymore.”

“Yes,” the women chorused.

Silence settled over the room as Ning Chen observed the half-conscious woman before him. He retrieved a dagger from his spatial storage.

A light swing—the blade so sharp it split strands of hair with ease—severing the ropes binding her limbs with clean cuts.

Thud!

Ji Qianyue plummeted face-first from over a meter high.

Even with the thick air cushions softening the fall, the impact still forced a pained gasp from her, jolting her awake from her stupor.

Writhing like a shrimp, Ji Qianyue twisted to face Ning Chen.

A flicker of astonishment flashed in her eyes, only to be swiftly drowned by fury.

“Who are you? How is there a man in Qinglian Sect?! Where are they—?”

In her three hundred years of life, Ji Qianyue had never suffered such humiliation!

She wanted to scream at him, but as her gaze locked onto Ning Chen, she suddenly felt a strange hesitation.

Looking down at the woman curled defensively on the floor, Ning Chen smirked.

“Me? That’s unimportant.”

“As for them…” He raised a brow, chuckling lightly as if stating the obvious. “After educating one, it’s only natural to move on to the next.”

Ji Qianyue’s muddled mind struggled to process his words—until realization struck like lightning.

Her pupils shrank to pinpricks, horror and rage flooding her.

“What have you done to the Third Young Mistress?!”

Panic seared through her.

It wasn’t that she’d neglected her duty to protect Ji Yunjin—but the unspeakable torments inflicted upon her the moment she arrived had left her mind too scrambled to think straight.

Glaring at Ning Chen’s tall, composed figure, Ji Qianyue instinctively reverted to her domineering tone: “You! Why are you just standing there? Untie me at once!”

She needed to break free, regain her cultivation, and rescue the Third Young Mistress—she had no time to waste here!

Heh.

Ning Chen’s lips curled in silent amusement.

The inherent arrogance still hasn’t been beaten out of her.

Conclusion: Still in need of discipline.

He stepped forward, crouching to meet her at eye level.

Instead of releasing her as she expected, he pulled out another memory stone, tapping it twice.

A projection flickered to life—this time showing an unconscious Ji Yunjin tied to a bed (from the very beginning).

“Third Young Mistress!” Ji Qianyue cried out, her eyes reddening with desperation.

“Outrageous!” She thrashed violently.

These southern barbarians dared torment her—but to lay hands on the Third Young Mistress?!

They were seeking death!!!

“Shhh—” Ning Chen pressed a finger to his lips, his smile unwavering.

“Stay calm. Otherwise, your Third Young Mistress might… lose consciousness.”

He wasn’t lying.

She was already unconscious.

“You—!” Ji Qianyue gnashed her teeth, finally realizing this man was allied with those Qinglian Sect women.

“What do you want?!”

Struggling against her body’s weakness and the shame of her exposed state, she shouted as if volume could mask her vulnerability.

Ning Chen shook his head. “Nothing much. I just grew curious about the so-called Ji Clan.”

“Expect me to betray clan secrets? Dream on!” Ji Qianyue sneered coldly.

Even after enduring inhuman torture, she hadn’t broken!

She instinctively glorified her earlier suffering, mentally divorcing herself from her wanton reactions.

But she overlooked one detail:

During that ordeal, she hadn’t confessed because Liu Ruyan never asked.

And Ning Chen wasn’t here for interrogation.

His curiosity lay in her physiology, not her faction’s politics.

In one swift motion, he seized her slender ankle and flipped her onto her stomach before she could react.

Her defenses long since drowned, Ji Qianyue had no strength left to resist.

“How dare you treat this venerable one—!”

Shock and fury surged—but before she could squirm upright, Ning Chen planted a foot between her whip-marked shoulder blades, pinning her back down.

“Hiss—!”

Ji Qianyue sucked in a sharp breath.

Even if the lashes weren’t lethal, Xu Qingya’s relentless strikes had left real wounds.

Before she could curse, the memory stone was placed directly before her eyes.

The wall opposite served as a screen, still frozen on the image of Ji Yunjin bound to the bed.

Then, from above, she heard that lazy yet unyielding voice:

“Shhh—”

“I already taught you this.”

Bastard!

Damn you!

Coward!

Ji Qianyue burned with the desire to slaughter everyone here—but it was a futile fantasy.

For the Third Young Mistress’s safety, she finally relented, her body going limp in surrender.

Ning Chen removed his foot and settled atop her thighs.

His fingers traced the waterfall’s edge—fertile land.

A single path through endless peaks.

The drugs in her system had long since peaked, leaving Ji Qianyue trembling uncontrollably.

Yet despite the exquisite scenery before him, Ning Chen’s focus remained fixed on the branching path leading elsewhere.

There, a swirling, flower-like portal barred the way.

Ning Chen’s eyes narrowed.

If he wasn’t mistaken, this was Whirling Frostbloom—one of only two divine artifacts known in later eras, exceedingly rare.

Frostbloom referenced its appearance: an ancient poetic name for chrysanthemums blooming in winter.

Whirling alluded to the crude oil extracted from its depths—perfect for fueling roaring engines, with air purifiers in the cockpit and vortex acceleration far surpassing the norm.

Ning Chen wanted to test it.

Like dipping a biscuit into chocolate sauce, he sampled the entrance.

Ji Qianyue bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, fists clenched.

She knew what was coming—but for the Third Young Mistress’s life, she had no choice!

Tears of humiliation streaked down her cheeks.

She braced herself.

Yet the next moment, her eyes flew wide in horror.

Agony twisted her features as she screamed:

“WRONG! YOU’RE DOING IT WRONG!!!”