The bundle of straws was lifted once more. The disciples leaned in, hearts pounding, each one torn between dread and excitement. Laughter and nervous giggles echoed faintly.
Finally, a slender hand pulled out the red-tipped straw. The unlucky — or perhaps lucky — winner froze.
It was disciple Lian'er.
Gasps and giggles spread instantly."Lian'er! Hahaha, it's you!"
"She's even redder than Mei'er!"
"Don't faint before you even go in!"
Lian'er's face burned crimson. She clutched the straw like it might vanish if she denied it. "I… I…"
Ziyue raised an eyebrow, smirking faintly. "Go. If Mei'er could do it, so can you."
Sect Master Yinxue spoke calmly, though her tone carried a subtle weight. "Remember, this is cultivation. Respect the method. Compose yourself."
With trembling legs, Lian'er stepped forward, holding her towel close as she entered the curtain. Her silhouette appeared beside Haotian's, small and slender against his broad frame.
She sat hesitantly, her back hovering just an inch away.
"Closer," Haotian instructed.
She flinched, then leaned back until her body pressed against his. The lantern light made their joined silhouettes clear for all outside to see. The chamber fell into tense silence.
"Focus," Haotian said softly. "Breathe. Begin the flow."
And then it began.
Golden yang threads burst from Haotian, surging into her frail frame. Silver-blue yin chi answered, streaming back into him, twining into shimmering rainbow arcs as the cycles started.
Lian'er gasped sharply, her silhouette jerking.
"Ahhh—! It's— it's inside me—!"
The words rang too loudly. The disciples outside covered their mouths, eyes wide.
The cycles deepened. Her moans came faster, higher, each one echoing against the stone walls. She arched back against him, her shadow projected on the curtain, trembling uncontrollably.
"Haotian—! Please, it's too much! I can't—ahhh!"
A ripple of frost chi burst outward. Her aura flared violently. Her cry peaked in a sharp scream—
BOOM!
The waters rippled. The lantern light wavered. Her cultivation surged, unmistakable.
"She broke through!" an elder exclaimed. "From Early Nascent Realm to Mid Nascent Realm!"
Shock and awe rippled through the bathhouse.
Inside, Lian'er slumped forward, exhausted, her breathing ragged."…don't stop… please… more…" she whispered faintly, her words muffled but carried clearly through the thin curtain.
Gasps erupted outside. The disciples' faces burned scarlet. More whispers spread like wildfire.
"…'Don't stop'? Again? Just like Mei'er…""…the cries, the silhouettes… it's the same…""…and the Sect Master that night…"
The comparison was now undeniable. Yinxue kept her expression carefully serene, but beneath her calm exterior, her heart raced. Her body remembered her own cries too vividly.
Ziyue's fists clenched at her side. Watching another woman's shadow arching against Haotian's back, hearing those moans, it was unbearable. She bit her lip, forcing composure.
Finally, Haotian's calm voice drifted out. "Enough. You've broken through. Go and consolidate."
Moments later, Lian'er emerged, holding her towel tightly. Her face was flushed, her breathing ragged, her legs unsteady. She nearly stumbled as she walked, her aura shimmering with her new breakthrough.
The bathhouse filled with whispers and stares.
Two disciples. Two breakthroughs. Two sets of cries echoing the Sect Master's own.
The secret was no longer just rumor. It was growing into certainty.
The bundle of straws was raised again, the disciples murmuring anxiously. Two of their sisters had already emerged flushed, trembling, and stronger. The weight of expectation pressed heavier now.
Hands reached in, nervous laughter bubbling—until Ziyue suddenly stepped forward.
"I'll draw next," she declared smoothly.
The disciples froze.
"Eh? Elder Ziyue?!"
"But— but this was supposed to be for disciples!"
"Elders too? That's not—"
Before anyone could finish protesting, Ziyue's slender fingers plucked a straw from the bundle. She held it up casually — the tip gleamed red.
A ripple of shock swept the bathhouse.
Her lips curled faintly into a knowing smile. "See? Fate has decided. And as an elder, I should verify the method's safety for the sect. Of course."
The disciples erupted in murmurs, some protesting, others whispering in excitement.
"She cheated! She didn't even hesitate—"
"But she is an elder…"
"Wait, if even elders are entering…"
Yinxue's mouth twitched faintly. Inside, her heart thudded hard. Ziyue… you already dual cultivated with him the old way. Why are you inserting yourself here too? She clenched her hands behind her back but said nothing.
Ziyue, unbothered by the protests, walked gracefully toward the curtain. The disciples' eyes followed her like hawks.
She slipped inside. But instead of seating herself properly behind Haotian, she moved swiftly to the side wall—
Click.
The lantern went dark. The curtain fell into shadow.
"What?!"
"The light's gone!"
"W-we can't see anything!"
The disciples outside erupted in confusion.
Yinxue pinched the crown of her brow, sighing deeply. "Of course she would do this…"
Inside, Haotian stirred, blindfolded but aware of the sudden darkness. "Ziyue? Why did you extinguish the lamp?"
Her voice came low, close, carrying a warmth only he would hear. "Because this time… I won't just sit with my back to you."
The disciples outside whispered furiously.
"What happened?!"
"Why did the light go out?"
"Elder Ziyue's inside…!"
Ziyue's silhouette never appeared against the curtain. The secrecy gnawed at the disciples, imagination running wild.
Sect Master Yinxue closed her eyes, drew a long breath, then turned and began walking toward the exit. "Enough. I will not watch this farce."
Her robes swept softly over the stones as she left the bathhouse, though her clenched jaw betrayed the storm inside.
The disciples looked at each other, then back at the now-dark curtain, hearts racing at the mystery unfolding within.
And behind that veil of shadows, Haotian felt Ziyue's presence directly before him — closer than anyone had dared yet.
Within the shrouded curtain, steam swirled around their silhouettes, unseen from outside. The lantern was extinguished, and silence pressed in.
Haotian sat still, blindfolded, until he felt the sudden warmth of fingertips brushing against his chest. Ziyue's hand lingered there, trembling slightly before pressing firmer against his muscles.
He inhaled softly. "Ziyue… are you really doing this here?"
Her voice came low, teasing, a whisper meant only for him. "Who else would dare?"
Before he could answer, she leaned in and kissed him. A fleeting press at first, then deeper, lingering. He returned it, his lips moving with hers, and her entire body shivered in response.
She lowered herself slowly, sliding closer until she straddled him in the steaming waters. Their mouths never parted, each kiss growing deeper, more urgent. Then, with a trembling exhale, she angled herself, pressing lower, her body meeting his in the water.
Her moan broke into his mouth, muffled but intoxicating. The kiss deepened further, tongues entwining, her breath hot, desperate. Haotian groaned into her lips as their bodies aligned, the water rippling outward.
Ziyue began to rock against him, slow at first, her hips rising and falling, sending small splashes through the pool. The curtain trembled faintly, and the water rippled beyond its edge. Haotian quickly formed a soundless barrier, silencing everything within.
But outside, the disciples gasped at the sight of the water. Small ripples first… then larger, rhythmically spreading from the curtain. The frequency increased, betraying what their ears could not hear.
Inside, Ziyue clung tightly, her arms circling his head, pressing him to her chest. Her moans echoed faintly against his ear, breaking with every rise of her body.
"Haotian… ahhh… don't stop… it's too good… I can't—"
Her movements grew frantic, in perfect rhythm with her cries. Waves of chi flared with each cycle of the Union of Dual Souls Sutra, threads of golden and blue light shimmering in the steam, carrying rainbow sparks of their elemental physiques.
Her body suddenly stiffened, her moan rising into a shuddering cry. She convulsed in his arms, pleasure and chi exploding through her meridians as she climaxed, collapsing weakly against him.
Haotian kissed her temple, murmuring softly, "Ziyue…"
But he did not stop. He held her waist firmly, guiding her movements even as she trembled. His own body surged, his chi building higher and higher until suddenly—
BOOM!
His cultivation sea erupted. Within his consciousness, ninety-nine dragons roared as if awakened. His body tensed, then released in a wave of raw power. Chi exploded outward in all directions, rippling against the water.
The silence barrier cracked faintly, and a muffled pulse swept the bathhouse.
Outside, the disciples stiffened."…That aura…"
"…A breakthrough! Haotian just—"
Behind the curtain, Ziyue's eyes widened in awe, her body glowing in reflected rainbow light. She clung to him tighter, whispering against his ear, "You… you broke through…"
And Haotian, still holding her, finally exhaled deeply, the waters calming around them.
The waves settled, the chi storm fading back into silence. Haotian's chest rose and fell heavily, his body still trembling with the aftershocks of his breakthrough. Threads of golden and rainbow light flickered faintly around them before dissolving into the water's mist.
Ziyue remained straddled against him, her hands still cradling his face. Her lips parted as she stared at him, astonishment and delight swirling in her eyes.
"You…" she whispered breathlessly. "…you really broke through. To Initial Soul Transformation Realm. Just like that."
Her voice trembled, not just in awe but in something deeper. She pressed her forehead to his, closing her eyes. "Haotian… do you understand? This… this isn't just cultivation. This is us. What we have together—no sutra, no array, nothing compares."
He gazed at her softly, his blindfold still on, but his smile genuine. "Ziyue… your chi guided mine, steadied it. I wouldn't have broken through without you."
Her face flushed crimson, her heart swelling with both pride and yearning. She kissed him again, slow and lingering, as if sealing his words into her soul.
For a long moment they remained in each other's arms, the water warm around them, the world outside forgotten. But finally, Ziyue drew back, her eyes alight with determination.
"No one can know what really happened in here," she murmured. "They wouldn't understand. Let them think it was only cultivation… nothing more."
Haotian exhaled, nodding faintly. "…Very well."
The curtain swayed open, and Ziyue stepped out.
The disciples gasped. Unlike Mei'er and Lian'er, who had stumbled out flushed and wobbly, Ziyue emerged graceful and steady, her aura radiant. Her skin glowed with a brilliance that eclipsed the others, her presence exuding confidence and elegance.
She tightened her towel, lifted her chin, and looked over the gathering.
"Elder Ziyue…!"
"She looks so different—glowing even more than Mei'er and Lian'er!"
"What happened inside?!"
Ziyue paused, a faint smile curving her lips. "Simple. Haotian broke through."
A ripple of shock passed through the crowd.
"Haotian… broke through?!"
"It works both ways?!"
"So he benefits too… it really is dual cultivation!"
Ziyue nodded calmly. "That's right. It is the nature of dual cultivation. Yin and yang both rise together. So of course, he advanced as well."
Her words only deepened the disciples' awe and suspicion. More whispers darted like sparks.
"…Then that night with the Sect Master…"
"…And Mei'er, and Lian'er—if Haotian grows stronger each time…"
"…This is more dangerous than we thought."
But Ziyue ignored the murmurs. She walked with serene composure, humming a soft, lilting melody as she passed. At the door, she turned, handing the straw bundle to another elder.
"You continue the draws. I'll leave the rest to you."
With that, she swept from the bathhouse, glowing with power and a mysterious smile, leaving behind a storm of whispers and unanswered questions.
The moonlight poured cold and silver through the latticed windows of the Sect Master's chamber. Yinxue sat at her desk, a half-burned incense stick trailing faint smoke into the quiet air. The day's reports lay scattered before her, untouched. Her gaze drifted not to the parchment, but into the distance.
Her thoughts had not left the bathhouse.
The disciples had cycled through all day, one by one, each returning with flushed faces, trembling limbs, and heightened realms. The proof of Haotian's method was undeniable. Nascent cultivators breaking through in rapid succession—it was a miracle, perhaps even the key to survival when the seal broke in three years.
But what troubled her was not the disciples. It was Elder Ziyue.
Yinxue closed her eyes, recalling how Ziyue extinguished the lamp, slipping into the curtain not as a cautious elder but as a woman who could no longer restrain herself. And then, when she emerged…
She was glowing. More radiant than the others, steady on her feet, humming as though carrying a secret victory.
The Sect Master's hand tightened on the armrest of her chair.
And then came the report. Delivered late at night, almost in a whisper. During Ziyue's turn, Haotian himself had broken through—to the Initial Stage of the Soul Transformation Realm.
Her heart clenched as she replayed the pieces. The silence barrier, the extinguished lantern, the water rippling in waves beyond the curtain, and Ziyue emerging with that knowing smile.
Dual cultivation.
Not the restrained, "clean" version Haotian proposed. Not merely yin and yang chi intermingling through touch. No, what she had seen in Ziyue's eyes, what she heard in the disciples' whispers, and what the evidence suggested—it was the true form of dual cultivation. The one straddling the line between righteousness and corruption. The one that required intimacy, where yin and yang bodies joined as much as their chi.
Her nails dug into the wooden desk.
Did they… in the dark?
The question twisted inside her. She wanted to dismiss it, to banish the thought as baseless suspicion. But the truth pressed against her heart like a blade.
She stood, pacing slowly, the hem of her white robes brushing against the floor.
The sect needed Haotian. His formations, his pills, his vision—the future of the Moon Lotus Sect hung on his shoulders. And yet… could she allow him to entangle himself with Ziyue in such a way? Already the disciples whispered. Already their hearts wavered between awe and jealousy. And if they were right, if Ziyue had truly bound herself to him through that forbidden intimacy—what would it mean for the balance within the sect?
The moonlight spilled across her desk, illuminating the scattered reports. Her reflection glimmered faintly in the inkstone water, her expression strained.
Sect Master Yinxue pressed her hand to her chest, feeling the steady thrum of her own heart.
"…Ziyue," she whispered to the empty chamber. "What have you done?"
The incense burned low. Outside, the Moon Lotus Sect slept, but within the Sect Master's heart, unease only deepened.
The chamber was heavy with silence, moonlight falling pale across the floor. Yinxue sat before her desk, her fingers loosely clasped, the incense stick beside her burned to ash.
Haotian had not lied. He admitted it without hesitation: he and Ziyue had dual cultivated in the old way, the true way.
Her jaw tightened as she remembered. Not the method he had proposed for the disciples, not the restrained chi-merging technique that preserved propriety. No, Ziyue had pulled him into the dark and chosen the shameless path, seizing him openly for herself.
Yinxue's lips pressed thin, the frustration rising in her chest. Ziyue… do you have no shame? To claim him so boldly, knowing what eyes would suspect?
And yet—her anger ebbed into something more complicated.
All day, the cries had rung through the bathhouse. Even with the sound-suppressing formations, even with the curtains, the aftermath could not be hidden. Disciples emerging flushed, moaning under their breath, their bodies trembling with both pleasure and power. Dozens of voices over the hours—half-ecstatic, half-broken.
The Sect Master exhaled slowly, closing her eyes.
If Ziyue could not bear to endure it any longer, perhaps… perhaps she could understand. Even she herself, sitting still at the edge, had felt her composure tremble. The more the hours stretched, the harder it became to ignore the waves of chi, the gasps, the shuddering cries that leaked through despite the veils.
If she were honest with herself—if she had remained there another hour, listening—perhaps even she might have… stepped forward.
Her nails pressed faintly into her palm.
"…No. I must not think this way."
She shook her head, forcing the thoughts back into the silence.
Ziyue may have been shameless. Haotian may have allowed it. But the method worked. The disciples advanced, the sect grew stronger, and time pressed forward. That was what mattered.
And yet, deep inside, an unease stirred—the unease of a woman who feared that her own control might not hold, should she remain too close to the fire Haotian represented.
The incense had long since died. Yinxue rose slowly, stepping toward the window. The moonlight caught her profile, serene yet clouded with conflict.
"…Ziyue," she whispered to the empty night. "You may mock propriety, but… how much longer can even I resist?"
The bell tolled across the frosted mountains, its deep echo summoning the sect to order. The disciples gathered in the grand hall, rows of pale robes rippling like a field of lotus petals under snow. Their faces were alight with excitement, whispers darting like sparks of fire: breakthroughs, cultivation progress, rumors of the bathhouse.
On the dais, Sect Master Yinxue entered with quiet grace. Her white robes trailed like falling frost, her bearing steady as still water. No trace of her midnight turmoil showed in her eyes.
"Disciples," her voice rang, cool and clear, "our path has advanced further than any of us could have dreamed. In only weeks, the sect's strength has risen by generations."
The disciples straightened, joy and pride shining. Some whispered of Elder Ziyue's glow the night before. Others dared to mention Haotian's own breakthrough.
Yinxue's gaze swept the hall, calm as ever. She gave no sign of irritation, no flicker of personal thought. But beneath her composure, her heart pressed heavy. They look at him as though he is the moon itself. And Ziyue… stands nearest to him in the glow.
She folded her hands within her sleeves. "You must not mistake rapid progress for the end of hardship. The demons will not spare us. The seal may hold for three years, but our enemies will not wait politely. This chance we have—what Haotian has given us—you must cherish and temper with discipline."
Her voice sharpened like a blade, silencing whispers. "If you falter, if you treat this opportunity as play, then all your progress will crumble when the storm comes."
The hall fell into respectful stillness.
Yinxue's gaze lingered briefly on Haotian, then on Ziyue. He stood relaxed, unreadable as always. She, meanwhile, carried herself with calm satisfaction, faintly glowing still. The sight tugged faintly at Yinxue's chest, but she suppressed it, hiding it behind the ice of her expression.
I will not waver. Whatever turmoil lies in my heart, the sect must see only strength.
With a final nod, she dismissed the assembly.
The disciples bowed, reverence rippling through the hall like a tide.
And as Yinxue turned to leave, her robes whispering over stone, she allowed herself one silent thought.
Even if my heart cracks, I will not let them see it.