Lingling," he called softly, his voice coming out almost breathless despite himself.
"Hm?" she responded lazily.
She didn't open her eyes. Instead, she burrowed even deeper into his chest, cheek pressing firmly against him as if she had found the most comfortable cushion in the world. Her arms tightened around his waist with quiet determination, and when he shifted slightly, her legs tangled with his without the slightest hint of embarrassment. At some point, she had fully transformed into a clingy little octopus that had decided this was her territory now.
"…You're going to suffocate me," he muttered weakly.
She hummed again, unconcerned, her grip tightening just a little more in clear disagreement.
"No," she said softly, voice muffled against his chest. "You're very sturdy now."
That wasn't a compliment he had been prepared to receive.
Xuanyan honestly didn't know how long they had been standing like this. Minutes blurred into something longer, time stretching and thinning until it stopped feeling measurable at all. The outside her cave remained quiet, undisturbed, as if even the sect itself had decided not to intrude.
She wasn't speaking.
He wasn't either.
She shifted slightly, rubbing her cheek against his chest again—no, nuzzling, the way a small spirit beast sought reassurance without words. Then came a few soft, absent-minded taps of her lips against his robes, affectionate and unguarded, more habit than intention. The gesture was so natural that it made his chest tighten painfully.
Guilt and tenderness rose together, tangled and inseparable.
She's too good for me… what did I do to deserve this?
Xuanyan's hand hovered for a moment before settling more firmly against her back, his fingers pressing lightly as if to anchor both of them. He didn't pull her closer, but he didn't push her away either. The choice sat between them, unspoken.
Well, he did try to take things a little further after that—but Mei Lingling stiffened almost immediately, the change so small most people would have missed it.
Xuanyan caught it at once.
She didn't pull away. She didn't protest. But the rhythm of her breathing changed, and her fingers tightened unconsciously against his shoulder, as if holding onto the moment rather than pushing toward the next one.
That was enough.
He stopped himself—not because he lacked desire, and certainly not because the system whispered about rewards.
If Mei Lingling wasn't ready, then that was the end of it.
Xuanyan had no intention of rushing her just to squeeze out a few more system points. Whatever the system promised, whatever it tempted him with, none of it mattered more than the person holding onto him right now. Using her feelings as a shortcut would have left a sour taste he wouldn't be able to wash away.
"Lingling," he murmured again.
She hummed once more, but this time she lazily opened her eyes—bright, soft, glowing with a kind of happiness that made him want to kiss her right there.
"You said your mother refined the pill you gave me earlier, right?" he asked gently.
"Mn." Her smile bloomed with unmistakable pride, the kind that only came from admiration freely given. "My mother is an Outer Sect elder in the Alchemy Hall. Cool, right?"
Before he could respond, she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek—quick, warm, and sweet—then pulled back just as easily, a playful sparkle dancing in her eyes as if she'd done nothing out of the ordinary.
"Why?" she asked lightly. "Does Brother Xuanyan need something?"
"A bit," he admitted after a brief pause, choosing honesty over clever phrasing. "I… want your help. I want to become her personal disciple."
For a heartbeat, nothing changed.
Then Mei Lingling's smile stalled, as if someone had gently pressed a finger against it. It didn't disappear outright, but the brightness dulled, the warmth cooling into something more cautious. Xuanyan noticed immediately. He always did when it came to her.
"Brother Xuanyan…" she began, her voice softening as though she were afraid of hurting him. "I really, really want to help you. Truly." She hesitated, fingers curling lightly against his robe before loosening again. "But my mother doesn't accept disciples easily. Even I… I can't become her personal disciple."
There was no resentment in her words. No complaint. Just a quiet statement of fact, spoken by someone who had long since accepted it.
"She's very strict when it comes to alchemy," Lingling continued, her tone gentle but firm. "Too strict, most people say. Talent alone isn't enough for her .She values patience… and results more than anything else."
Whether someone is willing to fail the same process a thousand times without cutting corners."
Xuanyan didn't interrupt.
Mei Lingyao.
So it was her.
The name surfaced clearly now, sliding into place like a missing piece. In the original novel, Mei Lingyao had been one of the strongest alchemists on the continent, a pillar of the Alchemy Hall, and a major supporting figure in Ye Qingfeng's rise. Not part of his harem—but close enough to matter. Close enough to influence critical turning points.
Suspiciously close.
Xuanyan felt a quiet click in his mind as the pieces settled. He hadn't recognized Lingling at first, not because she was unimportant, but because his memory of the novel had always focused elsewhere. On power. On conflict. On the people who stood directly in the protagonist's path.
It wasn't Lingling he remembered , It was her mother , that realization carried both weight and opportunity.
Will the system give me a mission related to her too? he wondered silently his dick twitch a little while thinking about her.
He pushed the thought aside. In this dog-eat-dog world, survival mattered more than moral hesitation, and dwelling on what was proper or improper wouldn't help him live long enough to regret it.
Xuanyan smiled, then reached out and gently tapped Lingling's forehead, the gesture light and familiar.
"Don't worry," he said calmly. "I have talent."
(And he wasn't wrong. She alone had given him enough points to buy an entirely different life.)
Her eyes widened instantly, the earlier hesitation vanishing as if it had never existed. Her entire expression brightened, joy spilling out without restraint.
"Really?!" she exclaimed. "If that's true, Mother will definitely be happy! Then—then let's go right now!"
Before he could respond, she grabbed his wrist and stood up in one fluid motion, excitement lending her strength as she tried to pull him along with her, already halfway convinced the future had solved itself.
Xuanyan reacted on instinct.
He caught her at the waist and pulled her back gently but firmly, halting her momentum in an instant.
She let out a soft yelp of surprise, balance tipping—
And the next moment, she found herself back where she'd started, seated on his lap once more, breath caught and eyes wide with shock.
She didn't struggle.
She didn't pull away.
Instead, she froze for half a second, then relaxed, her hands instinctively settling against his shoulders as if this position made a strange kind of sense. Her cheeks flushed faintly, but there was no panic in her eyes—only surprise and a flicker of embarrassed awareness.
Instead, she shifted shyly, a small, hesitant movement at first, as if testing whether he would stop her. When he didn't, her confidence grew. She adjusted her position until she was straddling him, her knees braced on either side, her arms slowly looping around his neck as though that was where they had always belonged. The distance between them vanished, leaving only warmth and shared breath.
Her eyes were half-lidded now, lashes trembling faintly, her gaze unfocused in a way that made his chest tighten. Her breathing was soft, uneven, brushing against his lips with every exhale. She didn't need to say anything. The intention in her expression was unmistakable, clear enough to still his thoughts completely.
Xuanyan lifted a hand and brushed his thumb gently across her cheek, feeling the warmth there, the slight hitch in her breath at the contact.
"We'll go later," he whispered, his voice low and steady. "For now… stay."
She didn't argue. She didn't pull away.
Her lips parted just slightly, not in words, but in quiet permission—in longing that mirrored his own. And that was all it took.
Xuanyan leaned in, closing the distance he'd been holding back from, and their lips met. The kiss was soft at first, careful and unhurried, as if they were both learning the shape of the moment together. Then it deepened naturally, warmth building, tenderness giving way to something richer as she clung to him with a sweetness that made his heart ache.
He held her closer, one arm firm around her back, grounding her as he kissed her with a patience and care he hadn't known he possessed. There was no rush, no hunger to take more than she was ready to give—only the quiet certainty that this was exactly where they were meant to be.