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... ed fear in their eyes.

   "Get in the camp!" Gao Shun shouted when the sword was out of its sheath.

"Kill!" This is the voice that belongs to the camp. Although there are 800 people, it has the momentum of thousands of people. Even if the opponent has 10,000 people, they are not afraid. Fear.

   Mu Shun's mouth twitched slightly. He had heard of the leader of the camp. As a sharp sword under Ding Yuan's command, his reputation in Bingzhou was not weaker than that of Lu Bu's ...

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Su Yu, a descendant of a royal chef, entered a novel of the immortal world. She became a second senior sister who took over a mountain full of wounded and disabled from her missing senior brother.

According to the original plot, her third junior brother’s golden core was broken. Her fourth junior brother gets into trouble. His fifth junior brother was deceived… In short, they are dead, become casualties, or are injured.

Su Yu: Ah, this… our division seems to be over.

Looking at a group of skinny, weak, or disabled juniors, Su Yu, who wanted to retire: What kind of immortals are cultivating and fighting? Come and help me cook! Peace is a blessing!

However, when she researched the ingredients in this world of cultivating immortals and decided to make a pot of delicious vegetables… the spiritual energy in the wok was great and the fragrance spread, but there was a faint circle of energy, which turned into super-quality spiritual pill that could repair broken meridians lying on the bottom of the wok.

Su Yu: !

The seriously wounded and waiting to die juniors: !

Master Su didn’t believe in failure. When she was preparing to make a lotus leaf roasted rib, oil dripped and the aroma was overflowing. But at the bottom, there was a faint gleam of light accompanied a two-foot-long spirit sword, unparalleled in sword energy and a rare treasure once in a century.

Junior brother who gave up cultivation because of lack of spirit sword: !

Looking at the pots and pans full of spiritual pills and spiritual treasures piled up in her small kitchen, Su Yu frowned.

You may not believe it, but I just want to make a dish.

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[Warning: Mature Content]

“Master, are we going to keep what happened last night a secret between us?”

“For how loud you moaned and cried, Qing-er, I think the whole world has already learned all about it, and your concern is irrelevant.”

Yun Qing-er, the only disciple of the legendary immortal swordmaster Bai Ye, has been hiding her feelings for her master for years. Unaccepted by norms and morals, it is the darkest secret that she swears to bury deep within her heart.

But life has other plans. Bai Ye's desire for her burns hot beneath his solemn appearance. He will teach her not only the art of the sword, but also the pleasures of life that she never knew existed before.

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Smut starts at Chapter 17, with a teaser in Chapter 11. A bit softcore at first but will get wilder quickly as the story moves on :)

Note that this is NOT a typical cultivation romance. Immortals and spiritual power and whatnot are all plot devices… You'll see what I mean in just a few chapters!

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[Sneak Peek]

He pinned me against the poplar tree at the center of the garden. A breeze rustled past, stirring the sunlight sparkling through the autumn foliage above us, and a sprinkle of gold fell over his shoulders. “Say you want me,” he whispered.

“Bai Ye—” I breathed, but the rest of my words were replaced by moans the moment he traced his kisses along my neck and took my earlobe into his mouth.

Familiar tingles roared through me as he nibbled and suckled gently. His hand slid up my chest, and he played with my sensations with his lips and tongue and fingers until my arms trembled around him. All other thoughts vanished from my mind. The only thing I knew was the irresistible feeling of him on me, so overwhelming that my knees started growing weak. I would've fallen if he wasn't pinning me hard against the tree.

“Bai Ye …” I moaned again, clawing at his clothes. “Of course I want you … Right here, right now.”

He let out a soft puff of laughter, and his hand grazed down, gripping the folds of my dress. With a rip of fabric, he tore them away.