Feng Yun’ai didn’t argue further. After a long while, she spoke slowly. “I don’t. Just… feed me the medicine.”
She had, perhaps, understood.
Sang Chencao’s expression became unusually calm—so calm it was devoid of emotion, yet it wasn’t indifference. It was like the center of a deep, emerald lake, hiding infinite secrets within its depths.
“Do you know the pain now?” Feng Yun’ai asked, thinking the woman had finally come to her senses after cutting herself so many times.
But Sang Chencao replied, “I don’t feed medicine to ‘others’ this intimately, Xiuxiu.”
Feng Yun’ai had spent years on Listening Goose Peak, but she wasn’t entirely ignorant of the ways of the world. After a moment of silence, she said, “I know.”
“I am finding ways to kiss you,” Sang Chencao stated bluntly.
Feng Yun’ai’s gaze drifted away. Her heart hammered erratically. She secretly counted the beats before her lips moved as if stumbling over each other. “I… I know.”
Aside from the first three times, she had known about all the ones that followed.
“You know?” Sang Chencao seemed skeptical.
Feng Yun’ai repeated, “I know.”
This time, there was no hesitation.
Sang Chencao wouldn’t allow her to look away. She cupped Feng Yun’ai’s cheek, forcing her to look back. Finally, she smiled again, her voice low and enchanting. “So you know everything. Xiuxiu truly is clever.”
This sudden praise was nothing but teasing.
Feng Yun’ai fell silent.
Sang Chencao laughed. “Then I shall continue feeding you, Xiuxiu.”
Feng Yun’ai lowered her gaze, her eyelashes fluttering.
As their lips met, the passing of the medicinal broth did not end the contact. Instead, it transformed into a butterfly seeking nectar—a brief dalliance that deepened into a lingering, inseparable entanglement.
For a time, their gazes became almost tangible, like threads of silk weaving together, knotting into one.
A few soft gasps were suddenly interrupted by the crisp sound of dripping water echoing in the cave.
“Undo it,” Feng Yun’ai said. The half of her face that was startlingly pale now flushed a brilliant pink, as if she had applied rouge.
Sang Chencao refused to release her. She leaned into Feng Yun’ai’s ear, sounding utterly bewitching. “Xiuxiu, you indulge me this time, and next time, I’ll indulge you. What do you say?”
Feng Yun’ai’s mind went blank, as if she truly had been put under a spell.
Water dripped rhythmically inside the cave. By the time they woke the next day—though they knew not the hour—Sang Chencao had already begun boiling water. This was the final dose.
When Feng Yun’ai opened her eyes, she saw Sang Chencao drawing her sword. Startled, she reached out to stop her, only then realizing the paralyzing poison had been neutralized.
She sat up in surprise. Her wrist was immediately caught as the woman beside her lowered her head to take her pulse.
At the touch of their skin, Feng Yun’ai suddenly felt a surge of heat, involuntarily recalling the events from before.
Sang Chencao, however, showed no shame. She brushed the hair away from Feng Yun’ai’s cheek. “Does Xiuxiu feel uncomfortable anywhere else?”
The way she asked… it was exactly like that time.
Feng Yun’ai then realized the internal energy circulating within her was even more robust than before. Her limbs and bones felt refreshed; there wasn’t a single point of discomfort.
She hurriedly lifted her arms to check. Her skin was indeed as smooth as it had originally been, without a trace of a scar. When she touched her cheek, it was the same.
It was no wonder that in ancient texts, everyone fought to possess that rare treasure: the Medicinal Human.
She looked at Sang Chencao and asked in a low voice, “When did you undo the paralysis?”
“I massaged your arms and legs two hours ago. Seeing that your recovery was exactly as expected, I neutralized the poison.” Sang Chencao suddenly leaned in, pressing a feather-light kiss to the base of Feng Yun’ai’s ear.
Feng Yun’ai froze. She suddenly covered her cheek—not out of reluctance, but because her ear had turned scalding hot in an instant. She didn’t even have time to circulate her internal power to suppress the heat.
Sang Chencao pulled her hand away, acting quite imperious. “Let me see.”
“Look then,” Feng Yun’ai murmured. She recited the Lonely Heart mantra, barely managing to circulate her internal power to quell the heat in her ear.
Sang Chencao never tired of physical contact. She lightly pinched Feng Yun’ai’s earlobe, smiling brightly. “How can you be this beautiful?”
With this dose, Feng Yun’ai refused to let Sang Chencao feed her mouth-to-mouth. She drank every drop, leaving nothing in the pot.
Now that the medicine was finished, it was time to find a way out. After several days, they had no idea what was happening in the world outside.
Sang Chencao entered the water first. She held Feng Yun’ai’s ankle, letting her test the water temperature, before saying, “That Vortex* is elusive. I only remember the general direction, but I don’t know what time it appears. We’ll have to go and scout it out first.”
Feng Yun’ai leaped into the water. Her newly grown skin shivered at the touch of the icy depths.
![Never Offend the White Moonlight [Quick Transmigration]](https://i3.wp.com/dobytranslations.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/08/qtt-1.png?resize=151,215 "Never Offend the White Moonlight [Quick Transmigration]")
