A Cunning Pervert in the Cultivation World Chapter 2: A Deal in the Dark

Without speaking a word, Yue Lan entered the chamber, her silver robe glimmering softly under the lantern's glow. It hugged her curves perfectly—not constricting, yet exact. Elegant. Poised. Each step caused the fabric to move subtly, letting Li Feng's mind paint the missing details.

A crisp, sharp fragrance trailed after her—clean and almost frosty. It seemed out of place in such a dingy spot.

She settled opposite him without pause, back rigid, gaze serene like a tranquil pond. Li Feng fought the urge to gawk. He truly tried. But resisting was impossible.

That silver robe draped like an extra layer of skin. Her bosom rose and fell softly with every breath—sturdy jade peaks veiled in fabric as sheer as mist. And those hips, the gentle sway from her stride, the peach-like backside concealed under the sash... she made no effort, yet she tormented him.

He took his seat, cleared his throat softly, struggling to quell the heat surging below.

"I heard you were rich," Yue Lan stated, her tone even but not hostile. "Not powerful. Just wealthy."

Li Feng offered a faint smile. "That fits."

She produced a simple porcelain vial, unmarked, and placed it on the table. "Three Cloudbreaking Essence Pills. They clear the qi channels. Expensive. But I require spirit stones over pills."

Li Feng eyed it. Yes, such pills might aid... another person. Not himself. Not at present.

"They won't help me much," he replied. "Even gulping down all three, I'd remain trapped at Qi Refining level three."

She nodded simply. "Then state your offer."

He hesitated, fingers drumming the surface rhythmically.

Three decades in this sect. He'd witnessed how folks behaved—how cultivation turned them icy, obsessed, monstrous. All revolved around breakthroughs, progress, extended life. Everything otherwise? Worthless.

Flesh? Lust? No one valued it. Truly. Many would barter their own forms for a step nearer the Dao.

He looked at her once more—the icy glint in her eyes, her poised demeanor. Yue Lan was no naive blossom. She was driven. Restrained. Piercing.

This marked his opportunity.

He spoke deliberately. "I'm willing to give you 100 spirit stones."

Her eyebrow arched faintly. "What do you seek in exchange?"

Li Feng kept his tone steady. "One night. With you."

Silence enveloped the room. Her face remained unchanged.

"No dual cultivation," he clarified swiftly. "Nothing of the sort. I seek no qi from you, no Dao insights. Not even spiritual benefits."

He leaned in, gaze unwavering. "I crave only the bodily. A moment of heat. Flesh. That's all."

She regarded him steadily, wordless for a stretch. Her golden eyes stayed unblinking.

"I don't usually do this," she admitted at last. "Nor do I intend to begin. But... I'm no fool."

Li Feng held his tongue. Let her speak.

"An outer sect tournament looms in one month," she went on. "Top 5 earn a Foundation Establishment Pill. I'm nearly at the ninth level breakthrough, but I lack spirit stones. Sect missions would delay me too long."

She met his eyes directly. "So no, I wouldn't be here otherwise."

Li Feng nodded deliberately. "I get it."

She eased back a bit. "But you... why demand something so trivial? You've outlasted me here. You grasp this world's rules. Mortal delights? Mere drains on time and energy."

Li Feng exhaled slowly. He flashed a weary, slight grin.

"Perhaps," he answered. "But I recall humanity's feel. This realm erodes souls. Transforms them into Dao-obsessed effigies, blind to all else."

He shrugged casually. "I'm weak. Slow. Untalented. Yet I know warmth's touch. I'd sooner burn my final stones pursuing it than waste away in frigid meditation."

It rang true. Near heroic.

But within?

His mind buzzed with fire. Visions flooded him—her silver robe sliding off her shoulders, those frosty golden eyes warming gradually, her fair skin aglow in the candle's flicker. That firm peach he'd ogled for years, now graspable.

And the finest part?

She remained seated. Still pondering.

She hadn't refused.

His pulse raced harder.

Outwardly composed. Modest. Courteous.

But inside?

He smirked.

Like a ravenous hound spotting the kitchen door ajar.