As a woodcutter, I leaned against the back mountain, picking up the corpse of a beautiful fairy to vent my desires.
[Tales of the Nine Provinces]
Cultivating immortality defies the heavens, and tribulations are merciless. Deep within the Cloud-Broken Mountains lies a place shrouded in mist year-round called "Spirit-Severing Cliff."
Whenever the Heavenly Tribulation strikes, exceptionally talented fairies perish here. Their bodies are tempered by spiritual energy, transforming into "fallen jade bodies" after death, remaining incorrupt for centuries and exuding a unique fragrance. For the cultivation world, this is a burial ground; for the mountain guardians, it is paradise.
Faces of Humanity
Ye Guyun, the
aloof swordsman and chief disciple of the Misty Sword Sect, possessed skin as white as ice and bones as fine as jade, dedicating his life solely to the sword. Unable to sever the ties of love, he was consumed by inner demons and fell off a cliff. His body was as white as frost and snow, and even in death, his brows still carried an air of unapproachable arrogance.
The Demonic Demoness, the Holy Maiden of the Red Silk
Hehuan Sect, possessed an innate allure. She was ambushed and died from exhaustion during her tribulation. Her corpse exuded an aphrodisiac fragrance, partially veiled by a red veil, making her a rare and exquisite vessel for spiritual cultivation.
[Forbidden Technique]
Search the mountain for corpses: Explore the back mountain daily to search for fallen immortal corpses, relics, or spiritual herbs.
Body care: Cleaning, suturing, and applying body oil. Maintaining the body's moisture and luster.
Pure Yang Infusion: Using the extremely yang body of a mortal, essence is infused into the corpse through intercourse, accumulating [Spiritual Essence Value], and ultimately awakening the remnant soul.
Summer of the 12847th year of the Cultivation Era in the Nine Provinces Cultivation World
This is a cruel world where cultivators regard mortals as ants—the Nine Provinces Continent.
The spiritual energy has been revived for over ten thousand years, with sects standing like stars, and powerful figures moving mountains and filling seas with a mere wave of their hand. The Misty Sword Sect guards the Eastern Region, the Joyful Union Demonic Sect entrenched in the Southern Frontier, and the Pure Void Taoist Temple sits in the Northern Wilderness. These three top sects check and balance each other, dividing the entire continent into a visible holy land of cultivation and a bloody battlefield in the shadows.
However, the ways of Heaven are merciless, and cultivating immortality is going against the will of Heaven.
Whenever a cultivator breaks through a realmFoundation Establishment, Golden Core, Nascent Soul, or Deity Transformationa terrifying "Nine Heavens Thunder Tribulation" inevitably descends. Purple lightning tears through the sky, each tribulation more dangerous than the last; a slight misstep can lead to annihilation of both body and soul. Those once proud and arrogant women of heaven are nothing more than lambs to the slaughter before the thunder tribulation.
As for those female cultivators who failed to transcend the tribulation, if their physical bodies were not completely blasted to ashes by the heavenly lightning, their corpses would "become jade" due to the high purity of the spiritual energy remaining in their bodies—their skin would not decay, their muscles would not stiffen, and they would have a unique fragrance. Apart from not breathing or having a heartbeat and having a cold body temperature, they would be no different from a sleeping living person.
This type of corpse is known in the cultivation world as the "Fallen Red Jade Body".
They can remain in this state for hundreds of years until their spiritual power is completely dissipated, at which point they will turn into a handful of incense ash and disappear with the wind.
The Cloudfall Mountains, located at the intersection of the three major sects, are the most turbulent and chaotic region in the Nine Provinces Continent in terms of spiritual energy. Countless high-level cultivators choose to undergo tribulations here, while countless others who fail to do so are buried here.
The lowest level of the Cloud-Broken Mountains the Absolute Spirit Cliff is a "Land of Absolute Spirit" forgotten by cultivators.
This place is shrouded in thick mist year-round, with thin and murky spiritual energy. High-ranking cultivators disdain to set foot here, and even their divine senses struggle to penetrate the mist. Those immortals who fail to transcend tribulations in the clouds often have their bodies fall into a bottomless abyss, eventually hanging on ancient trees on the back mountain or falling into the stream.
For the cultivation world, that's a dumping ground.
But for the woodcutters who live here...
That's heaven...
March 15, 12847 in the Immortal Cultivation Calendar, just before midnight.
The torrential rain poured down from the sky like a waterfall.
Thunder rumbled deep within the clouds, and purple flashes of lightning intermittently tore through the sky, illuminating the entire back mountain as if it were daytime. The stream, swollen from the torrential rain, roared and crashed against the boulders in its riverbed, producing a deafening roar. The air was filled with the earthy smell of mud, the bitterness of pine resin, and… a strange, cloying fragrance of orchids.
The woodcutter was soaked to the bone, his bronze skin glistening with rainwater.
He was carrying a wood-chopping knife, dressed in coarse linen clothes and straw sandals, walking back along the path by the stream. He had planned to take advantage of the rainy night to go deep into the mountains behind the village to cut some hemlock logs for firewood, but unexpectedly, halfway there he smelled that familiar aroma...
The fragrance of orchids.
And it's very concentrated.
The woodcutter's breathing suddenly became rapid.
He had lived in this mountain range for twenty-four years and knew from childhood what this fragrance meant. It was the scent emanating from the "corpse of an immortal." Whenever a female cultivator failed her tribulation and fell into the back mountain, this strange, sweet fragrance would drift in the air, so strong that it made people dizzy and burning with lust.
He swallowed hard, gripped his wood-chopping knife tightly, and hurried towards the direction of the aroma.
Rain lashed his face, blurring his vision, but his nose was unusually sensitive. The fragrance grew stronger...it was just ahead! Right by the stream!
Another bolt of lightning tore through the night sky.
In that brief flash of white light, the woodcutter saw...
Beside a huge rock by the stream, lay the body of a woman dressed in white.
She lay on her side on the muddy ground, her long hair disheveled, draped over her shoulders and the ground, soaked by the rain and clinging to her cheeks and neck in strands. She wore a white Taoist robe, simple in style but luxurious in material, which still shimmered with a faint silver light even when wet...it was a robe woven from "ice silkworm silk," which only the core disciples of major sects were qualified to wear.
A dark green jade belt, intricately carved with runes, was tied around the waist of her Taoist robe, but it had come loose, revealing her slender waist and part of her lower abdomen.
Her skin was so white it was almost translucent.
Even in the pouring rain and darkness, her skin still emitted a faint glow, like the finest white jade. Rainwater fell on her, sliding down her cheeks, neck, collarbone, and chest, leaving no trace of blood or wounds; she was so perfect she seemed otherworldly.
Her features were so exquisite they were breathtaking.
Her willow-leaf eyebrows were slightly furrowed, as if she were having an unpleasant dream; her eyelashes were long and thick, with glistening water droplets clinging to them; her nose was high and straight, and her lips were slightly parted, revealing a row of pearly teeth and a hint of pink tongue. Her expression was not serene, but rather carried a sense of resentment and anger emotions frozen on her face in the final moments before her failed tribulation.
But she is already dead...
No breathing, no heartbeat, body temperature as cold as frost.
The woodcutter stood frozen in place, his heart pounding wildly in his chest, almost bursting out of his throat.
His gaze traveled down her delicate face
The white Taoist robe clung to her body, soaked by the rain, outlining her graceful curves. The soft contours of her high, full breasts, her slender waist, her rounded hips, her long, straight legs... everything was clearly visible, like a fine work of art displayed before him.
And that orchid fragrance
It emanates from her.
It was so rich it was suffocating, so sweet it was dizzying, as if an invisible hand was stirring up the deepest desires in his heart.
The woodcutter's Adam's apple bobbed up and down.
He looked around to make sure there was no one there—only the torrential rain, thunder, and the roar of the stream. The Cliff Behind the Spirit-Slaying Mountain was already a remote place, let alone on such a stormy night. No cultivators would descend upon this place, and no mortal would dare to venture out in such weather.