The silky satin-like tenderness of skin in his arms, Chen Yi truly didn't want to rise; he would rather hold Yin Weiyin like this all day long.

Moreover, having not seen each other for a long time, upon reuniting, Yin Weiyin's allure was even more profound than before. The cultivation at Taihua Mountain seemed like aging fine wine—sealed and stored deep in a cellar to ferment, and now, once uncorked, its fragrance filled the air.

Was this "absence makes the heart grow fonder"?

Chen Yi wasn't sure.

Yin Weiyin's eyelashes trembled lightly, her dazed eyes opened, and she frowned slightly. She pursed her lips and stared straight at Chen Yi.

Chen Yi lifted his head and met her gaze, asking, "Got an opinion?"

She lowered her gaze and said softly, "No…"

Chen Yi pulled her closer into his embrace. Feeling something against her, Yin Weiyin was jolted awake, instinctively trying to push him away.

"Early in the morning, don't, don't…"

Chen Yi hadn't entertained any thoughts initially, but upon hearing this, he couldn't resist anymore. Spreading his legs, he leaned forward.

Knowing his usual forcefulness, and that she couldn't resist by herself, Yin Weiyin pressed against his shoulders and said:

"Wait, wait…"

Chen Yi then asked, "What are we waiting for?"

Yin Weiyin took a deep breath, lowered her gaze to avoid his eyes, and said:

"You… call me 'wife' first."

Chen Yi hadn't expected this, nor did he understand what she was thinking. However, he chuckled and said, "… Wife."

"Honey."

"… Honey." Chen Yi didn't hesitate for even a moment.

Yin Weiyin's eyes sparkled: "Good sister."

"Good… good little sister."

Just as the words were about to leave his mouth, Chen Yi caught himself in time, squinting as he stared at the female crown.

Yin Weiyin, feeling guilty, turned her face away and muttered:

"After being apart for so long, not even willing to call me 'good sister?'"

"I'm two years older than you. You're supposed to call me 'good brother,' not the other way around." Chen Yi sneered coldly.

Yin Weiyin wanted to argue further but suddenly felt her body turn soft. Before long, small murmurs escaped her lips.

...…

By late morning, after Yin Weiyin finished washing up, she changed back into her Taoist robes and sat in the hall sipping tea and flipping through a book. When Chen Yi returned with lamb pita bread, he saw her sitting alone—a stark contrast to her indulgent demeanor from the previous night.

Chen Yi set down breakfast and asked, "What are you reading?"

Yin Weiyin didn't even glance up: "Something you won't understand."

Chen Yi narrowed his eyes slightly, pondered for a moment, but ultimately decided not to quibble with the female crown.

Tonight, she would set the stage.

Yin Weiyin didn't know what Chen Yi was thinking, her autumn-water-like eyes merely lifting briefly to catch sight of him quietly eating breakfast—one portion left aside for her as well.

Such a seemingly unremarkable scene stirred countless emotions within Yin Weiyin for a moment. Last night, he wore that pig-faced mask and bowed before her. Later, he crossed thousands of miles to gift flowers. And today, he left breakfast for her… taken individually, each moment might seem insignificant, but together they formed a tapestry of intricate tenderness.

Does Zhou Yitang deserve this kind of favoritism? Does Yin Tingxue deserve this kind of care?

The female crown let out a light sigh.

Without realizing it, she had already won by too much.

After some time, Chen Yi finally finished his breakfast, wiped the grease off his lips, and turned to ask:

"Where's Lu Ying? Hasn't she gotten up yet?"

"She's meditating in her room. Cultivators place great importance on the times of dawn and dusk," Yin Weiyin thought for a moment, then added, "Don't go disturbing her now."

Upon hearing this, Chen Yi chuckled, "Does even this make you jealous?"

Yin Weiyin remained calm and composed, silently rising to sit by the table and enjoy her portion of breakfast.

Chen Yi casually pulled from Square Land a random book, and Yin Weiyin glanced at it before asking:

"Why are you reading Three Heroes and Five Gallants?"

"You've read it before?"

"No, but I've heard of it."

Chen Yi touched the characters on the book cover and said:

"On the way here, there wasn't much entertainment. I don't like listening to operas, nor visiting brothels, so I started reading novels."

Yin Weiyin's keen perception caught something and feigned indifference as she asked:

"Why don't you visit brothels?"

Chen Yi pressed the book onto his lap and thought for a moment. Visiting brothels is a form of leisure for many men, and he didn't shy away from it, but never did he sleep with anyone there. As for why, the reason wasn't too complicated.

"Because I feel sorry for them."

"Sorry for them?"

"Selling one's body—I always feel it's pitiful. Who would choose such a path if they had another option?" Chen Yi paused briefly and then said slowly, "I have my principles. I can't bear to make life worse for them."

Yin Weiyin could understand his reasoning but couldn't empathize with it.

She was slightly disappointed in his response, hoping he'd use the opportunity to flatter her and say something sweet.

Chen Yi cast a glance at her, fully aware this was the nature of the female crown. If it were Little Fox here, upon hearing those words, she'd surely break into a smile and might even encourage him to engage in more altruistic acts.

Still, this is how it was with Yin Weiyin. The two, once deadly enemies, were now wed, a relationship that inevitably required one party to accommodate the other's flaws. And from Chen Yi's perspective, he always addressed matters practically—speaking to actions rather than intentions. If the female crown made any petty moves, an eye roll was more than sufficient to respond.

Yin Tingxue, Min Ning, Zhou Yitang—they were like reins keeping him from descending into wickedness. But Yin Weiyin was different—she was the one being held back by reins.

Nothing more was said between the two, so Chen Yi immersed himself in his book on Three Heroes and Five Gallants. A case-driven novel about Song Dynasty justice, where Bao Zheng, with the aid of virtuous heroes, righted wrongs and eradicated evil—a story that captured his focus. He read for half the day until noon when a servant informed them lunch was ready; coincidentally, Chen Yi had just finished the book.

How could he describe it? His thoughts were mixed.

Not because of the story itself, but because, though the book talked of heroism, the depicted heroism seemed somewhat hollow.

Focusing only on the heroes—while the greatest martial artist was granted the title "Imperial Cat," others were referred to as "Imperial Rats." Their acts of righteousness and the resolution of grievances, while satisfying, were stifled by the constraints of the court and government. The stories relied heavily on Bao Zheng's integrity as a clean official to uphold justice.

It wasn't bad—Chen Yi merely thought if Min Ning saw it, he'd feel the heroics lacked spirit. As it was, even Chen Yi let out a faint sigh upon finishing.

He put the book away, choosing not to share these feelings with Yin Weiyin—knowing she wouldn't understand them anyway. As noon arrived, Lu Ying joined them for lunch, and the three enjoyed the meal peacefully, as if perfectly contented.

Several days passed in such a manner.

Time flew by, filled with an indescribable sense of ease. By day, he'd read or practice swordsmanship, occasionally exchanging sweet moments with Yin Weiyin, and at night, their intimacy deepened—red drapes swaying furiously, a beauty in his arms, without a trace of worry. In these moments, Chen Yi would faintly recall life in the capital city—equally tranquil.

One thought gave rise to many. With Great Yin beside him, Chen Yi couldn't help but miss Little Yin. Humanity is seldom satisfied; perhaps one day, with Little Yin in his arms, he'd find himself longing for Great Yin.

Women are always perceptive, and Yin Weiyin, hearing his heart momentarily race, knew he was thinking of another woman.

Though she lay embraced by him, he was nevertheless contemplating someone else. This knowledge stirred a bitter feeling in Yin Weiyin's heart. She wanted to pinch his waist but ultimately dared not, wishing instead that Little Fox were there. With her as a buffer, surely things wouldn't be as hard to bear.

Both were thinking of Little Fox, although their thoughts diverged.

Chen Yi, immersed in silent regret, felt a subtle presence tighten closer to him.

With Mid-Autumn drawing near, the jade rabbit had almost been pressed into mooncakes.

Chen Yi couldn't help but smile and ask, "What are you doing?"

Yin Weiyin snorted softly, muttering, "Seems your lust has possessed you. Perhaps if I stay closer, you won't think about other women."

Startled, Chen Yi was both amused and exasperated. Wrapping his arms tighter around her waist, he whispered, "I might think of them, but as soon as you draw close, my thoughts belong solely to you."

Though this was indeed a romantic line, Yin Weiyin felt a trace of joy. Yet, she immediately wondered—if another woman drew close to him, would his thoughts then belong solely to her? Such a shift in perspective replaced her joy with a faint trace of bitterness.

With a sigh, she said, "Your heart lacks resilience."

Chen Yi didn't expect her mood to shift faster than the flow of pages in a book and couldn't fathom what sort of jealousy gripped her now.

"Your will wavers. Like that of Zhu Bajie," Yin Weiyin grumbled, glaring at him as though disappointed by his failure.

Taking a deep breath, Chen Yi's grip tightened.

Slap!

Yin Weiyin's delicate cheeks flushed red, yet she boldly returned his gaze. Chen Yi's mocking expression prompted a softly uttered repartee:

"You… you did admit to being like a pig once…"

"Yin Weiyin, you're really testing my patience." Chen Yi flipped her over, pressing her beneath him as he growled, "One simple remark, and you've clung to it until now."

Tears glittered in the female crown's eyes, and though she appeared somewhat aggrieved, knowing she couldn't defy him, she released her grip and spread her arms.

"Let's see who's really the pig," Chen Yi grumbled vehemently, commanding firmly, "Say it—you're the pig."

"You!" Yin Weiyin's voice quivered with emotion, her eyes brimming as she choked out the words: "…You're the pig."

That defiance?

Chen Yi raised a brow, hesitating no longer.

...

Having playfully sparred with Yin Weiyin over days, the Resentment Yin-Yang Technique's dual cultivation effects had brought noticeable advancement to Chen Yi's cultivation.

For someone at the Golden Core Realm, the progress wasn't very pronounced, but for Yin Weiyin, still at the Core Formation Realm, it was entirely different.

The vital energy seemed fully digested, flowing into her various acupoints. Her cultivation advanced steadily, and the circulation of her Primordial Qi far exceeded its former state—an indisputable blessing. So much so that she risked being scolded with an eye roll just to cling to Chen Yi night after night for more 'dragon-slaying.'

Chen Yi naturally didn't refuse—he took pleasure in the closeness. Yet at times, he couldn't help but marvel at Yin Weiyin's fervor, which grew more fervent by the day. The white tiger grew fiercer, increasingly difficult to control.

Were it not for his own advancement to the Fourth Rank Martial Arts Realm, he might one day find himself wholly overpowered by her.

That aside, despite spending these past few days indulged in Yin Weiyin's companionship, Chen Yi hadn't forgotten about Lu Ying.

The primary purpose of coming to Shantong City was to serve as Lu Ying's protector and escort her into the Sword Pool Secret Realm at Chongyang Temple.

Now that the business with Lifeng Pavilion had been concluded, these serene days passed without trouble or turmoil. The only remaining matter was to wait.

Wait for the Sword Pool Secret Realm to open.

Chongyang Temple had sent invitations to familiar Taoist sects, announcing that the long-sealed Leixiao Sword Washing Pond would reopen after rituals and prayers, inviting various Taoist friends to witness the event.

Yin Sword Mountain and Taihua Mountain were among those on the list, avoiding any disputes over secret realm entrance quotas, allowing Chen Yi to enjoy his leisurely pace.

On this particular day, messenger disciples from the Jiangxin True Person sent a formal invitation to the pavilion.

"What's this… an invitation to listen to opera?"

Chen Yi flipped the card over as he muttered.

Yin Weiyin thought for a moment before commenting: "The Jiangxin True Person is indifferent to fame and fortune, a wandering hermit unaffected by worldly desires—truly embodying the behavior of a true ascetic. Yet when it comes to opera, they're no different from the common folk, addicted to performances as if their life depended on them."

"Ah, they wish to build closer ties with Taihua Mountain, cultivating a connection through shared worship. Inviting us to hear opera and, incidentally, discussing matters about the secret realm still pending." Chen Yi set the invitation aside and sighed. "Social exchanges."

Whether in the mortal world or the cultivation world, interpersonal networking was an undeniable reality. Although refined, Taoists practiced within their preferences—visiting sect gates, debating philosophy, composing poetry, or sharing music were all natural activities, and invitations to opera were hardly unusual.

Yin Weiyin took the invitation, skimmed its contents, and said, "Then we should go. Perhaps we can wander Shantong City while we're at it."

Her mind lingered on the day when Chen Yi had chased after Lu Ying. Each time she recalled it, the urge to rewrite those memories and overpaint them with her own filled conversations grew stronger.

Chen Yi failed to pick up on her thoughts. He simply considered that secret realm matters would be discussed, and replied, "Then let's bring Lu Ying along."

Yin Weiyin's gaze dimmed slightly. The suggestion fell, leaving Yin Weiyin's thoughts swirling in complexity, generating countless tangents in a moment. To bring Lu Ying? It wasn't inherently an issue—if anything, it became an opportunity: letting Lu Ying witness their shared affection wouldn't be bad. As her dark mood shifted brighter suddenly, she gracefully acquiesced, saying, "I am her host, she's the guest. Over these days, I have indeed neglected her."

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