Master, Your Salted Fish Has Arrived - Chapter 31
The form of souls inside spiritual palaces wasn’t fixed. Liao Tingyan, for example, looked like a soft white cloud—useless for anything except floating.
Sima Jiao’s soul, on the other hand, was withering. His soul flower had almost completely shed its petals, scattering like ash in the flames.
Alarmed, Liao Tingyan extended part of her soul and caught one of those falling fragments. The moment it landed on her “cloud,” her mind went blank. A jolt—like being lightly electrocuted—shot through her, leaving a strange, tingling numbness in its wake.
From that fragment came a flood of heavy, negative emotions, so raw it felt like watching the most depressing film of her life.
Still, she kept catching them. Each fragment brought sharper sensations, and though she floated in someone else’s spiritual palace, she could feel the effects in her body. Her limbs weakened, her head throbbed faintly. Clearly, this trespass came with side effects.
But since she was already here… she kept going.
Some fragments dissipated too quickly to save, curling into nothing like dried petals in the wind. She gathered the rest and drifted toward the dimly glowing sphere at the heart of his palace. That light was his core—if it dispersed, he’d truly be gone.
Not knowing how to fix it, Liao Tingyan decided to improvise. She wrapped herself around the fragments, pressing them to the core like makeshift adhesive tape.
The result was agony.
A sharp, stinging pain shot through her mind, followed by an unbearable trembling. It wasn’t like being stabbed—it was like having every inch of her body scrubbed raw. And yet… beneath the pain was something disturbingly pleasant.
That was when she realized.
This wasn’t just saving a soul. This was soul fusion. Spiritual intercourse. In layman’s terms… cultivator-exclusive dual cultivation.
Her eyes widened in horror. Did people really do things this advanced?
Before she could curse, her thoughts dissolved into the overwhelming pleasure. The sensation was all-consuming. She forgot who she was, where she was—everything blurred, leaving only the entanglement of two souls pressed inseparably together, sharing thoughts, emotions, even scraps of memory.
It was… too much.
As a former single office worker, Liao Tingyan had read her share of stories and seen her share of videos. Reality, she’d been told, was often disappointing—”not as good as my fingers,” one friend had once complained.
But this—this flipped her soul upside down. It left her trembling, drowning in intimacy she’d never imagined.
When the fusion finally ended, she collapsed back into her body, slumped in her chair, trembling violently. Her entire body flushed, her breath shallow, her legs weak as jelly. Raising one shaky hand, she covered her face, mortified.
“Damn! I… I really just…”
Had she just delivered herself to Sima Jiao’s doorstep… and slept with him? In his spiritual palace?
If he woke up, wouldn’t he tear her soul apart on the spot?
Panic flared. She unhesitatingly kicked his unconscious body once to vent her frustration. He wouldn’t know anyway.
The flame appeared just then, babbling excitedly: “See? I told you you could do it! His condition is much more stable now. Just a few more times and he’ll be good as new!”
Liao Tingyan gave it the deadliest glare of her life. A few more times? One session had already killed her twice over!
The flame, oblivious, went on: “I didn’t expect you to be so capable! Usually barging in causes serious soul damage, but you came out better than before!”
Liao Tingyan ground her teeth. Who was it that promised this would be fine? This scammer flame!
“Shut up, you troublemaker!” she snapped, slapping a soundproof cover over it.
Then she staggered to her feet, leaned against the wall, and dragged herself outside, unable to even glance at the unconscious Sima Jiao without wanting to scream.
Withdrawal hit her hard. She bathed, ate, drank tea, sat by the lake—anything to distract herself. It wasn’t long before her mortification faded. After all… it had felt good. Adults having some form of intimacy wasn’t the end of the world.
Her only concern now was Sima Jiao’s reaction. Would he wake up furious and unleash his wrath? Yet when she remembered the emotions she’d felt during the fusion, her fear softened. She even wondered—ridiculously—if he might actually like her.
But she quickly scolded herself. That was one of the great delusions of life: They must like me. Ninety percent of the time, pure fantasy.
The next day, urged by the insistent flame, she re-entered his spiritual palace. She’d come this far—abandoning him halfway seemed even more wasteful.
This time entry was smooth, like she had a ticket. His palace looked better than before: still scorched, still burning, but less oppressive. His soul no longer withered.
Dual cultivation really worked.
And yet, the pain she felt pressing against his soul told her only a fraction of what he must endure daily. A pain magnified a thousandfold—enough to drive anyone insane. But Sima Jiao? He hid it well.
A flicker of pity stirred in her. She shook her head furiously. No pity! This man is five hundred years old and kills like drinking water!
Still, soul entanglement left no room for fear—only intimacy. Too much intimacy.
By the third time, she found herself sitting by his bed, quietly observing him. Without his usual scowl, he really was striking—soft black hair, pale lips, features handsome enough to rival the “pretty boy” archetype. She even dared to pinch his earlobe.
Which was exactly when he opened his eyes.
She froze, hand halfway to her lap.
Calmly, she tucked the blanket up to his neck, feigning nonchalance. Inside, she cursed the flame so viciously it would’ve died ten deaths.
Sima Jiao sat up, the blanket sliding off his chest. Even pale and weakened, he didn’t look like a patient—he looked ready to massacre the world again.
He reached for her.
Wordlessly, she placed her hand in his.
He pulled her to the bed, wrapped an arm around her waist, another stroking her hair, and simply held her. Quiet. Steady. His usual perpetual gloom was gone, replaced by a peace she’d never seen on him before.
Why do I feel like I’m about to start a romance with a supervillain?
After a long silence, he pressed his forehead to hers. His pitch-black eyes drew her in like a vortex. Her spiritual palace opened with no resistance. Their souls, already familiar, fused instantly.
The sensation hit harder than ever, obliterating her thoughts. Before she lost consciousness entirely, she felt cold fingers pinch the back of her neck and heard his low voice:
“What you were doing before… this is spiritual intercourse.”
Her last thought before blacking out: Damn it.