Chapter 342

Tian Xianzi swallowed a mouthful of lamb and radish soup, the rich and slightly spicy aroma exploding across his long-dormant taste buds.

“This flavor, this taste—my dear disciple’s hands should be treasured like a masterpiece!”

“It’s indeed excellent,” Meng Jue remarked with his usual calm smile, but his words carried an explosive weight.

“Master, why not imprison Junior Brother Pei so that we’ll never have to worry about food for the rest of our lives?”

What a horrifying suggestion!

Lin Xun’s hand holding the chopsticks started to tremble slightly.

“By the way, Ning Ning,” Zheng Weiqi said, thoroughly satisfied after taking a big bite of the beggar’s chicken, the tender, flavorful texture bringing a smile to her lips.

“I heard from Senior Brother Meng that you asked him about spiritual energy entering the body?”

After swallowing the piece, her expression shifted to indignation.

“Meng Jue is really something; he taught you everything… Don’t do that kind of thing to others casually, understand?”

Ning Ning, busy scooping rice into her bowl, froze upon hearing this.

She looked at Senior Sister Zheng in confusion.

“Spiritual energy entering the body? You mean inserting one’s spiritual consciousness into another’s meridians and sea of consciousness to enhance cultivation or heal injuries?”

He Zhizhou perked up as if he suddenly understood something profound, smirking slyly.

“Oh, so it’s basically the legendary ‘spiritual intimacy,’ right?”

Ning Ning: …

The rice got stuck in her throat.

A rush of heat surged up her back.

Luckily, Zheng Weiqi quickly took over the conversation, casting He Zhizhou a sharp look.

“What nonsense are you spouting? Keep it proper.”

The emotional rollercoaster left Ning Ning somewhat relieved.

Exactly! Yes! It’s just a normal healing technique.

Only He Zhizhou could twist it into something improper.

Her thoughts tried to reassure her, but in the next moment, Zheng Weiqi firmly declared, “That’s clearly just the basics of dual cultivation.”

Ning Ning: …

Her mind short-circuited, and she froze in place.

Dual—cultivation—

Wasn’t dual cultivation supposed to involve… men and women… unclothed… doing indescribable things?

Even “spiritual intimacy” sounded better than this!

“What’s the difference?” He Zhizhou bantered with her.

“They’re essentially the same thing. Hey, Ning Ning, you didn’t try this on anyone else, did you?”

Ning Ning’s brain felt like it was about to explode.

Her entire body seemed filled with boiling water, bubbling uncontrollably.

Panicking, she desperately wanted to wrap herself up and hide.

Had she used it before?

Hadn’t she?

No, no, this strange method was actually first used on her by Pei Ji, wasn’t it?

Her gaze slowly shifted toward him, landing silently on his face.

He was already looking at her.

His lips parted as if to explain, but he hesitated, likely held back by the others’ presence.

Oh, his ears were burning red, the flush extending all the way to his snow-white neck.

Ning Ning quickly retracted her gaze and forced a dry laugh.

“Of course not.”

“That’s good.”

He Zhizhou, brimming with enthusiasm, launched into a monologue.

“I heard it’s something only very close people would do. In storybooks, it’s how the male and female leads—well, everyone gets it. It’s risky, though. One misstep and sparks fly. So thrilling!”

No, she didn’t want to get it.

Ning Ning’s grip on her chopsticks tightened as her thoughts grew more chaotic. If words could be distilled into one sentence, it would be: “He Zhizhou, shut up!!!!!”

Unable to respond, she pressed her lips together and lowered her head. Suddenly, she felt a soft, gentle pressure on her fingertips.

She glanced down to see that Pei Ji had reached beneath the table and lightly hooked his fingers around hers.

Though meant to comfort, in the current atmosphere, the gesture only made her feel more embarrassed.

Ning Ning felt as though her face was burning.

And yet, Tian Xianzi was still chuckling foolishly.

“Ah, with so many people present, let’s not talk about such things. It’s making me shy!”

This was a sword cultivator who loved his blade as if it were his spouse—a proper and disciplined sword cultivator who had probably never even held a woman’s hand.

But he wasn’t the one most embarrassed.

“Um,” Ning Ning couldn’t sit still anymore.

Not wanting others to notice her blushing face, she abruptly stood.

“I’m going to check if there are any desserts left in the kitchen.”

She fled the room, her body still radiating heat, and splashed cold water on her face in the kitchen.

Where had Pei Ji learned that method?

She had assumed it was a legitimate healing technique and had blindly used it on him from early on.

She even asked him…

She even asked him if it felt good.

Looking back now, the sheer intimacy was overwhelming.

Wasn’t that just irresponsible teasing? Like a… scumbag!

While frantically splashing her face, she glanced toward the door and saw a familiar figure.

Pei Ji’s face was unreadable, his pale skin making the deep flush on his ears all the more noticeable.

His lips were pressed into a thin line, and his tension was palpable.

“That method… was taught to me by Cheng Ying,” he began, his tone earnest but strained.

“I didn’t know—”

He seemed to struggle with the words but continued to look her directly in the eye.

“I didn’t know it meant that. I’m sorry for the offense.”

Cheng Ying.

She and Pei Ji—one a complete novice to the world of cultivation, the other utterly uneducated in these matters—had been completely duped by Cheng Ying and led right into this situation.

Ning Ning couldn’t help but feel a headache coming on.

What kind of character was this famed ancient sword spirit?

While the method had been effective in repairing their sea of consciousness, it was still…

She rubbed her temples and looked up at Pei Ji.

His entire body was taut like a drawn bowstring.

His black eyes were dark and unreadable as he asked, “Are you angry?”

He was nervous, his right hand clenching the hem of his outer robe since he wasn’t holding a sword.

How endearing.

“What’s there to be angry about?”

Pei Ji’s rarely seen vulnerable demeanor erased the turmoil in Ning Ning’s mind.

Without thinking, she offered reassurance.

“After all, we’ll eventually—um, think of it as practice for the future—”

Wait, no.

No, no, no! What nonsense was she saying?

Pei Ji’s expression was visibly stiffening!

Ning Ning turned into a motionless, thoughtless wooden statue.

She seriously considered the feasibility of time travel.

“I don’t fully understand… those matters yet,” Pei Ji said after a brief pause, his words carefully measured as he picked up where she left off.

His face reddened further, but his tone remained earnest.

“Senior Sister Zheng gave me some books. I’ll study them carefully.”

Pei Ji paused and added, with emphasis, “I learn quickly.”

Ning Ning stared at him, wide-eyed.

Senior Sister Zheng!

What kind of books did you give him?

What kind of unreliable characters were Senior Sister Zheng and the sword spirit Cheng Ying?

How could Pei Ji say something like this with such a serious expression?

Didn’t he feel embarrassed?

What kind of thought process did sword cultivators have?

And what did he mean by “learn quickly”?

She wasn’t in a rush, though—

Ning Ning couldn’t let her thoughts continue down that path.

“S-stop talking,” she stammered.

Her flushed face deepened as she raised a hand to cover his lips.

Seemingly both irritated and flustered, she quickly withdrew her hand and leaned up to plant a brief, feather-light kiss on his lips.

Ning Ning darted off, rubbing her face as she went, trying to erase the conspicuous redness.

“Let’s go, let’s eat.”

The young sword cultivator stood rooted in place, staring at her retreating figure.

Slowly, he touched the spot on his lips where she had kissed him.

Those words had been as difficult for him to say as traversing a dark, unfathomable cave—always observed from a distance but never dared to explore.

Even now, his ears were burning.

But, if it was with her—

Pei Ji lowered his head slightly, the blush deepening at the corners of his eyes as a small smile graced his lips.

The memory of the earlier deep kiss lingered vividly in his mind.

He licked his lips, savoring the aftertaste, and softly murmured, “Mm.”