The Crimson Flame Sect did not welcome them back with open arms.
It welcomed them with silence — the kind that follows a scream that never quite ends.
Three weeks after their return, the sect had fractured into invisible factions:
those who feared the trio, those who secretly admired their audacity, and those who waited for the first excuse to strike.
Xiao Yang's cultivation progress had slowed to a crawl.
The explosive leaps of the past were gone.
Late Nascent Soul now felt like a ceiling of thick glass — every attempt to push higher met resistance, as though the heavens themselves had grown tired of rewarding his sins so generously.
The system no longer showered him with instant realms.
It had become quiet, almost mocking.
Progress: 0.7% toward Soul Transformation.
The harvest grows thinner. The fruit is ripening too slowly.
He accepted it.
The hunger for power had dulled into something colder — a need to simply endure.
That morning, an invitation arrived.
A crimson lotus seal, pressed into black jade, delivered by a trembling inner disciple who refused to meet anyone's eyes.
The seal bore only one line:
The Crimson Lotus Peak requests the presence of Xiao Yang, Madam Su Qingxue, and Saintess Ling Xue'er.
— Matriarch Huo Lanyue
Su Qingxue's fingers tightened around the jade.
"She is the only elder who did not call for our execution," she said quietly.
"She also happens to be the most beautiful woman in the sect after me… and the most dangerous."
Ling Xue'er tilted her head.
"Beautiful how?"
Su Qingxue's smile was thin.
"The kind of beautiful that makes men forget their own names.
And women forget their pride."
They went that evening.
Crimson Lotus Peak stood apart from the main mountain — a solitary spire of volcanic glass wreathed in eternal flame-lotus blossoms.
The air smelled of molten sugar and burning silk.
Matriarch Huo Lanyue waited at the summit pavilion.
She did not rise when they entered.
She lounged on a throne of living flame, legs crossed, one slender foot dangling lazily.
Her robes were translucent crimson silk — so thin they were more mist than fabric.
They clung to a body that seemed sculpted from desire itself: impossibly full breasts straining against the material, a wasp waist that flared into wide, fertile hips, long legs that gleamed like polished ruby in the firelight.
Her face was devastating.
High cheekbones, full scarlet lips, phoenix eyes the color of molten gold lined with kohl.
Hair like black fire cascaded to her waist, streaked with living embers that flickered with every breath.
She was thirty-eight in mortal years — frozen at peak Golden Core for two centuries because she refused to dual cultivate with her husband, the now-deceased Patriarch Huo Zhan, who had died trying to force a breakthrough pill on her.
The rumors said she had smiled as he choked on his own blood.
Now she looked at Xiao Yang like a predator who had just discovered fresh meat.
"You've caused quite the stir," she purred, voice low and smoky.
"A little trash boy, an ice-cold widow, and a saintess who threw away her purity.
And yet here you stand, still breathing."
Xiao Yang met her gaze without flinching.
"You invited us."
Huo Lanyue's lips curved.
"I did.
Because I'm bored.
And because I want to know what kind of cock makes two legendary women abandon everything they ever swore to."
Su Qingxue stepped forward, ice phoenix aura flaring faintly.
"Speak plainly, Matriarch.
You did not summon us for vulgarity."
Huo Lanyue laughed — a sound like burning velvet.
"Oh, but I did.
I've watched my husband rot in the ground for two hundred years.
I've watched every man in this sect look at me like I'm a prize they can't afford.
And now I see you — three little sinners — walking around with power that should be impossible."
She rose slowly.
The silk robe slipped from one shoulder, revealing the perfect swell of her breast and the hard pink nipple beneath.
"I want a taste," she said simply.
"Not love. Not loyalty.
Just once.
I want to feel what made two women throw away their heavens."
Ling Xue'er's breath hitched.
Xiao Yang felt the system stir — the first time in weeks.
New target detected.
Huo Lanyue — Crimson Lotus Matriarch.
Bond level: None.
Reward multiplier: 120x (widow + peak Golden Core yin + voluntary defilement).
Warning: Her yin is volcanic. One mistake and your yang will be consumed.
Xiao Yang looked at Su Qingxue and Ling Xue'er.
Neither woman spoke.
But their eyes said enough.
They were not jealous.
They were curious.
Curious to see how far the darkness could stretch.
Curious to see if this new flame would burn them all — or finally warm the cold places inside.
Xiao Yang stepped forward.
He reached out — slowly — and brushed a thumb across Huo Lanyue's exposed collarbone.
Her skin was fever-hot.
She shivered.
For the first time in two centuries, the Crimson Lotus Matriarch shivered.
"Then come," Xiao Yang said quietly.
"Let's see how hot you burn."
The pavilion doors closed behind them.
And somewhere in the distance, the sect held its breath.
Because when the most untouchable woman in the Crimson Flame Sect decided to fall…
the mountain itself might not survive the fire.