The chamber was a stark contrast to the vast, cold hall of the wedding ceremony. It was a secluded, warmly lit dwelling nestled high on the Spirit Vein Peak, a space designated by the Jade Harmony Sect for Lin Ming's temporary residence. The room itself had been aggressively decorated with ceremonial red silks and lanterns, transforming the sterile cultivator's space into a semblance of a bridal chamber. The decision was practical, both parties, despite their disparity, had agreed that Lin Ming must reside at the Jade Harmony Sect. The Lin family estate, utterly devoid of rich spiritual energy, was simply incapable of sustaining a genius like Su Yueru or facilitating her pursuit of the Dao.
Lin Ming stood near the center of the room, still encased in the heavy red silk robes. Su Yueru was seated on the edge of the matrimonial bed, her head still veiled by the sheer red fabric that had covered her during the ceremony.
Just as the door closed and the sounds of the retreating disciples faded, the familiar golden screen materialized, visible only to Lin Ming's consciousness. Lin quickly moved to the [Wife Log] section, and a new screen appeared;
[Wife: Su Yueru]
[Affection: 0%]
[Chastity: Intact]
[Spiritual QI: 733,000]
[Comprehension: 125]
[Realm: Late Stage of Foundation Establishment Realm]
[Spiritual Root: Profound Ice Root (Legendary Grade)]
[Physique: Ice Spirit Physique (Epic Grade)]
[Abilities: Glacial Stasis Field (Legendary Grade)]
Lin Ming's eyes instantly locked onto the new field, [Affection: 0%]. Before he could dwell on it further, the golden screen shifted, displaying another prompt.
[To enable passive sharing of your wife's cultivation progress, the Affection level must exceed 50%. Note: Achieving perfect Affection yields greater rewards for engaging in intimate activity.]
Lin saw that to passively share Su's cultivation progress, he needed to increase her affection through intimate activities. The crucial question was, How could he possibly get close to her? Just then, the golden screen appeared again.
[Congratulations Host! Reward for having your first wedding night: Perfect Hands (Rare Grade)]
[Perfect Hands (Rare Grade)]
[This ability grants the host a touch blessed by the heavens, capable of swiftly conquering the hearts of your companions upon making intimate skin contact.]
Lin Ming's expression swiftly shifted. He had been deeply contemplating how to cultivate Su Yueru's affection, but with the appearance of this new skill, he instantly began to devise audacious plans.
Then, the red veil covering Su Yueru's head lifted, pulled away by her slender, pale hand. Her eyes were calm, crystalline, and distant, surveying him as if he were an object placed in the wrong corner of the room.
"Do not misunderstand this arrangement, Lin Ming," she began, her cold. "I did not agree to this out of any affection, nor respect for your status. The reason is purely for my own Dao."
She proceeded to explain the core truth, stripping away all ceremonial pretense. At her current, breakneck cultivation speed, any future feelings of guilt or regret—any sign of reluctance to honor her father's vow to the Lin clan—could manifest as a Heart Demon during a crucial breakthrough.
"To achieve a pure Dao, I cannot carry the burden of a broken promise," she concluded. "By formally marrying you, the vow is fulfilled, and my spiritual conscience is cleared. This removes any possibility of a heart demon." She added, with a dismissive wave of her hand, that she had expected him to refuse the arrangement entirely. She had heard of his laziness in avoiding courtship with various mortal spouses; his rejection would have absolved her without the need for the ceremony. Since he had agreed, she was now saddled with the burden.
Then came the calculated insult, delivered with the serene confidence of an immortal regarding an ant. "I will endure the small decades you have left. To a mortal, twenty years seems like a long time. But to me, a cultivator, it is but mere days."
She laid down the non-negotiable instructions. They would maintain the illusion of a happily married couple when necessary. She would occupy this room, but Lin Ming would sleep on the floor whenever she was not cultivating in seclusion.
Lin Ming absorbed the barrage of arrogance, contempt, and coldness. This was the reality of the cultivation world—a world where his life was measured in "mere days." But armed with his bonding system and a new Rare Grade skill, his path was suddenly clear.
He straightened his robes and bowed deeply. "Junior is willing! I will follow all of Senior Sister Su's instructions."
With a curt nod of acknowledgement, Su Yueru sat cross-legged on the jade mat, her eyes closing. Her robes settled around her, and the faint, unmistakable chill of gathering Ice Qi filled the room. The system immediately notified:
[Wife is Cultivating. To share her progress, raise Affection above 50% by engaging in intimate activities.]
Lin Ming took a deep breath. Time was already short. He would start now.
He moved quietly across the polished floor, the silk of his robes barely grazing against the stone. He was determined to close the gap and implement his plan, but as he crossed the invisible boundary of her personal space, the air snapped.
Suddenly, sharp, crystalline spikes of Ice Qi materialized from the floor and walls, pointing inward, their lethal tips aimed directly at Lin Ming's body. They were not mere threats; they were poised for instant execution. Su Yueru's eyes flashed open. Her face was contorted with a mixture of disgust and raw killing intent.
"One more step, and you die," she hissed, her voice low and dangerously even. "Do not mistake my agreement to the vow for submission. I will not hesitate to end your pitiful existence, and I do not care what minor bottleneck or debt it costs my future Dao."
Lin Ming froze, sweat instantly beading on his forehead as he stared down the needle-sharp ice points aimed at his neck and chest. He had to think fast. He remembered the knowledge instilled in him during his youth.
"I—I apologize, Senior Sister!" Lin Ming stammered, careful to inject just the right amount of fear, but continuing to hold her gaze. "I noticed… a bad posture in your cultivation."
Su Yueru blinked, then let out a sharp, genuine sound of derision. "A mortal cripple lecturing me on cultivation posture? That is the most offensive nonsense I have heard all day!"
Yet, the anger in her eyes was slightly diluted by confusion. Lin Ming wasn't entirely wrong.
Due to her naturally high talent and somewhat impatient temperament, Su Yueru often cultivated with a rigid, slightly tense posture, one that could hinder long-term refinement. How could this rootless mortal possibly perceive it?
Lin Ming launched into the language of a scholar. He diagnosed her rigidity, cited cultivation texts, and eloquently detailed the minor restriction she was placing on the flow of her Qi through her Shoulder Channel. He spoke with such precise knowledge of anatomical cultivation theory—a legacy of his early education when the Lin Clan believed he was a prodigy, when the knowledge of his lack of spiritual roots weren't known. As he went on, his knowledge about her posture, caused Su Yueru to be momentarily stunned into silence.
The crystalline spikes slowly lowered, disappearing back into the floor. Su Yueru tilted her head, her suspicion warring with a startling curiosity. "If you see a flaw, what do you suggest, Mortal?"
Lin Ming seized the opening. "I suggest a temporary spiritual therapy," he proposed smoothly, injecting a slight tremor into his voice for believable nervousness. "A detailed massage focused on relaxing the trapped Qi and correcting the muscular tension around the clavicle and shoulders."
Su Yueru's cheeks instantly flushed pink. Massage? The very word, delivered in the charged atmosphere of the bridal chamber, caused her to blush violently. Before Lin Ming could speak another word, a razor-sharp Ice Sword materialized from her brow, its tip resting inches from his neck.
Lin Ming quickly composed himself. "Purely medicinal, Senior Sister," he insisted, holding his hands up placidly. "The Perfect Hands technique is designed purely for clearing blockages. After one session, you will immediately feel the difference in your Qi flow."
The lie was audacious, but the unexpected knowledge and the promise of optimization were too tempting. Su Yueru's logic, honed by the cold demands of the Dao, overruled her maidenly fury.
With a look of sheer, cold regret, she lowered the ice blade. "Very well. You may focus only on the collarbone and shoulders. Any deviation, any attempt at intimacy beyond the stated therapy, and I will kill you instantly . Do you understand?"
"Junior understands completely," Lin Ming vowed.
With a stiff movement, she lowered the neckline of her ceremonial robes slightly, revealing the tender, slender skin of her collarbone and the smooth slope of her shoulders. She turned her back slightly, granting him access while keeping her defensive posture.
Lin Ming cracked his knuckles and stretched around for a few moments, adopting a look of profound medical concentration. He had only ten fingers, but they were now Perfect Hands.
He gently placed his thumbs on the soft junction of her shoulder and neck, and the Rare Grade skill activated.
"Your five minutes begins now, Senior Sister," he said, his voice quiet. "Try not to lose consciousness."
"Eh? What do you mean by—"
"Ahhh—!"
Su Yueru's voice cracked into an utterly unexpected, raw moan of pleasure that caused Lin Ming's heart to hammer. Her entire body, which had been rigid and tense, immediately relaxed into an unnerving, boneless stillness.
"Wh—What did you just do—Ahhhhh~!"
Her voice was thick with sensual confusion, a sound that utterly shamed her and made her feel dirty, yet she could not stop the involuntary tremor that raced through her Spiritual Sea. The touch was unbearable, exquisite, and otherworldly. Her meticulously maintained Ice Dao defenses were melting under the heat of his contact. She felt her body becoming impossibly light as the stagnant Qi around her collarbone seemed to vaporize under his thumbs.
The sense of pleasure overwhelmed her senses, making her feel as though she had been transported to an ecstatic, floating heaven. The touch was not that of a human; it felt like the hands of a minor deity, expertly clearing away the accumulated dust of mortal fatigue and spiritual pressure.
Time immediately compressed. What felt to Su Yueru like an eternity of unbearable, blissful sensation, was quickly over. The pleasure vanished as suddenly as it began. It was too abrupt, leaving her feeling utterly, tragically abandoned.
"Your five minutes is over," Lin Ming said in a calm, professional tone, withdrawing his hands.
Su Yueru slowly turned, her crystalline eyes now fogged with confusion, her cheeks flushed a deep red. On her face was a sensual, desperate expression—one that begged for more.
"B-B-But…" she stammered, the words catching in her throat.
"The pain and stiffness in your collarbone and shoulders should have completely subdued by now, Senior Sister," Lin Ming replied, his face betraying nothing.
"Wait!"