181: Chapter 181: Seven Coin Recharges, Half-Step Martial Spirit Realm!

"Awake?"

Ye Yun's voice was low, carrying a post-coital rasp and laziness.

Fang Hansu gave a soft "mm," her voice muffled against the crook of his neck, so soft she lacked even a trace of strength.

"What time is it?"

"I don't know."

Ye Yun's hand slid down her back, coming to rest on the two faint finger marks on her waist.

His thumb rubbed them gently.

"It should be quite late."

Fang Hansu let out a soft hum from his rubbing, her body shrinking further into his embrace, yet she did not pull away.

"Does it hurt?"

Ye Yun's voice dropped, carrying a note of genuine concern.

Fang Hansu was silent for a breath, then she gently shook her head.

Her hair brushed against his neck, tickling him.

"A little."

Her voice was very light, tinged with a bit of embarrassment.

"But... it's no matter."

Ye Yun's hand stopped at her waist, moving no further.

Fang Hansu remained silent for a while longer, then suddenly spoke.

"Young Master."

"Hmm?"

"Was Hansu... very loud just now?"

Her voice grew smaller as she spoke, until the last few words were as faint as a mosquito's buzz.

Her face was buried in the crook of his neck, burning hot.

Ye Yun looked down at her, the corners of his mouth curling slightly.

"Mm. The people next door probably heard."

Fang Hansu let out an "ah" and shrank under the covers, wishing she could hide her entire self.

But she truly had no strength left; she tried to shrink away twice but couldn't move anymore.

She could only bury her face firmly against his chest, even the tips of her ears turning crimson.

Ye Yun couldn't help but let out a chuckle.

The laughter vibrated from his chest, causing Fang Hansu's cheek to tremble slightly along with it.

Shamed, Fang Hansu reached out and gave his chest a light thump, but her strength was barely more than a tickle.

"Young Master is still laughing..."

Ye Yun stopped laughing, his palm covering her back once more, patting her gently as if soothing a cat with its fur standing on end.

"I'm teasing you. No one heard."

Fang Hansu huffed, lifting her face slightly from his chest to glare at him with eyes that were still watery.

That look, though intended as a glare, was more like a flirtatious pout.

The corners of her eyes were still red and teardrops clung to her lashes; there was no deterrent force at all, instead making one want to bully her once more.

Ye Yun's gaze lingered on her face for a moment.

Then he reached out, using his thumb to gently wipe away the few half-dried teardrops on her lashes.

His movements were very light and slow.

"Seven times."

Fang Hansu was stunned for a moment, not reacting.

"Seven times what?"

Ye Yun looked at her, the smile at the corners of his mouth deepening.

"I topped you up a total of seven times just now."

Fang Hansu's face flushed red again with a "whoosh," and this time even her chest was stained pink.

She opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but found she couldn't say anything at all.

She could only bury her face back into his chest, her voice muffled and carrying a hint of grievance.

"Young Master is a bully. It was clearly you..."

She stopped halfway through her sentence, unable to continue.

Ye Yun's hand slid down her back, disappearing under the covers.

Fang Hansu's body trembled slightly, but she did not hide.

Her fingers moved, wanting to grab his wrist, but as soon as her fingertips touched his arm, they limply fell back down.

She truly had no strength left.

Even moving a finger felt exhausting.

Those seven or eight times just now—each one felt like being swept up by a wave and then tossed back down.

From the initial pain to the later adaptation, and finally to the ultimate surrender.

Her entire being had been tossed and turned by him; every bone in her body felt as if it had been dismantled and then reassembled.

Now, let alone moving her fingers, even opening her eyes felt like an effort.

She could only lie prone on his chest, letting his hand wander under the covers and allowing him to play with her body.

Like a cat whose fur had been smoothed, she lay there lazily, occasionally letting out a soft whimper.

Ye Yun's hand was very well-behaved.

He knew she could no longer endure it; during that final Top up just now,

Fang Hansu had been sprawled over him, lacking even the strength to moan.

She only gripped his arms, her nails sinking into his flesh, her whole body convulsing as tears fell uncontrollably.

So now he only rubbed gently, without any desire, as if offering comfort.

Fang Hansu's breathing gradually stabilized, and her body became softer and softer, like a pool of water melting into his embrace.

"Young Master."

Her voice already carried a heavy sleepiness, slurred like a dream-murmur.

"Mm."

"In the future... can Hansu still be like this?"

Ye Yun's hand paused for a moment.

Then he continued rubbing.

"Do you want to?"

Fang Hansu was silent for a few breaths, then she nodded gently.

Her chin tapped against his chest, once, and then again.

"I do. Hansu wants to always be like this. To always serve the Young Master."

Her voice grew lighter and more slurred; by the last word, it was almost inaudible.

Ye Yun did not speak.

His hand withdrew from under the covers and rested back on her back, patting her gently.

Once, twice, and once more.

Fang Hansu's breathing finally stabilized completely, and she fell into a deep sleep.

Moonlight seeped through the gaps in the window paper, falling onto her bare shoulders and back.

It illuminated those varying shades of red marks with exceptional clarity.

The faint smile still hung at the corners of her mouth, not fading even in sleep.

Ye Yun looked down at her, his gaze sliding from her brows to her lips, then to her shoulders.

Finally, it rested on the marks he had left behind.

Then Ye Yun withdrew his gaze, closed his eyes, and sank his consciousness into his Dantian.

In the next second, his eyes snapped open.

Within the Dantian, Mystic Power was like a sea.

It was no longer the previous sensation of surging rivers.

But a true, vast, and boundless ocean of Mystic Power.

Golden light churned within the Dantian, more than twice as thick as before.

At the edges of that ocean of Mystic Power, there were faint signs of condensing into a core.

Though it had not yet fully taken shape, that Aura, that sense of power about to break through its cocoon,

Was already as clear as could be.

Half-step Martial Spirit.

Just one last step away, and he could officially step into the Martial Spirit Realm.

At that time, he would be able to fly short distances through the air, and the range and power of his externalized Mystic Power would skyrocket.

Compared to now, it would be two completely different worlds.

Ye Yun felt the churning golden ocean in his Dantian, and the corners of his mouth curled up bit by bit.

From the Great Martial Master Peak to Half-step Martial Spirit, this single step had stuck countless Martial Artists.

The old patriarch of the Wu Family had been stuck for most of his life, and remained only a Half-step Martial Spirit until his death.

Yet he had gone from Great Martial Master Ninth Level to Half-step Martial Spirit in less than half a month.

This was the terror of the Hehuan Daoist Body.

This was the Heaven-Defying nature of the Tai Xuan Hehuan Scripture.

And all of this was thanks to the woman currently lying on his chest, sleeping like a child.

The Cold Moon Physique.

An ancient and rare top-tier Cultivation Physique, containing the essence of the Taiyin Cold Moon within the body.

During the Dual Cultivation just now, Ye Yun could clearly feel a cool Aura passing from Fang Hansu's body into his Dantian.

It blended with his Pure Yang Mystic Power, Yin and Yang complementing each other, stimulating one another.