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At Ping An City's gates, four figures exuded arrogance, their aura anything but ordinary. Dressed in blue robes with a "Han" embroidered on the left chest, they drew attention. "Halt! Entry requires a toll 10 Low-Grade Spirit Stones each," a guard stated dutifully, sensing their status but upholding Liu Clan's rules.
"Charge me? Is your brain dog-eaten? Don't you know who I am?" the sole woman snapped, her sharp, narrow eyes glaring, drawing onlookers. Her oval face, high nose, red lips, and fair skin were marred by her fierce gaze.
The Refining Qi guard sweated, knowing he couldn't afford to provoke them, but persisted, "Ping An City is ruled by Liu Clan. All must pay the fee standard for everyone."
"You dare argue? What's Liu Clan?" Han Shen fumed, raising her hand to strike.
"Enough, Shen-mei! It's just stones pay them," a 25-year-old man intervened, tossing the fee. Handsome and serene, his gentle demeanor calmed tensions. The other two a younger man and a white-haired elder seemed unremarkable, their auras restrained.
Han Shen huffed, stomping into the city. The trio shrugged, following. The guard, clutching the stones, felt humiliated, a first in his career. As the quartet vanished, whispers arose. "Who's that woman? So overbearing!" one asked.
"Shh! Keep quiet or court disaster. Those are Han Clan Seventh-Grade!" a seasoned man warned.
"Seventh-Grade? No wonder!" another marveled, their dominance in Ping An City clear.
"I know her Han Shen, Han Clan's daughter, 20, spoiled rotten, gets whatever she wants. No one dares cross her," a cultivator sighed.
"Why's Han Clan here? It's far from their turf," someone puzzled.
"Forget it disperse, avoid trouble!" The crowd scattered.
Inside the city, the elder chided, "Shen-er, don't escalate trifles. Remember our purpose!" Their mission was to head to Ice Heaven Continent's core, Ping An City a mere stopover, escorting three juniors to Saint Spirit Academy's enrollment, starting in months. Seventh-Grade sects received three no-test slots, but sending weaklings risked expulsion, as a disgraced Eighth-Grade patriarch learned when his wastrel son was crippled in a week.
Han Shen, despite her brashness, was a Perfect Golden Core at 20, nearing Nascent Soul. Han Se, 25, Mid Nascent Soul, Great Elder's son and Han Qing's brother (slain by Lan An), was the clan's top genius, calm yet ruthless. Han Geng, 23, Early Nascent Soul, Second Elder's son, was ambitious. All dreamed of Saint Spirit Academy, where graduates became legends, at least Spirit Transformation.
A painter's call "Paintings, exquisite paintings!" caught their eye. A standout artwork, Happy Family, depicted a silver-eyed youth on a throne, four peerless beauties behind him holy, mature, refined, youthful—each radiant, a young girl in his lap, all eyes brimming with love. On his shoulder perched a purple-furred, eagle-headed, lion-bodied beast.
The Third Elder's pupils shrank, greed flaring at the Purple Thunder Griffin. "Hmph! Who's this guy, so lucky?" Han Geng gritted, jealous of the women. Han Se hid envy, his past conquests paling. "Nonsense! Four such beauties, serving a blind man? Fake!" Han Shen sneered, her vanity bruised.
"How much for this painting?" the Third Elder asked, smiling.
"Sorry, Happy Family is our shop's centerpiece. Buy others!" the painter grinned, having refused many, the painting boosting sales.
"How cute! I want that pet!" Han Shen fixated on the griffin, possessive.
"Shen-er wants it?" the Third Elder grinned.
"Absolutely!" she nodded.
Han Geng glared, Nascent Soul aura pressing the painter. "Not selling?" Sweat beaded on the painter's brow, intimidated, seeking help, but the street had emptied.
"Five Top-Grade Spirit Stones for the painting and their identities," Han Se said smoothly, arm around the painter.
The painter clenched his fists, torn. Selling would break his artistic heart, dooming his craft to soulless works. "I won't sell!" he declared.
"You?!" Han Shen raged.
"No need," the Third Elder stopped them, smiling. "We're not fated for this painting." His hand patted the painter's shoulder, who thanked him profusely.
Suddenly, the painter's face paled, eyes bloodshot. The elder's hand unleashed freezing energy, encasing him. Then, a crueler act—a powerful will invaded, scouring his memories, erasing his soul. The painter collapsed, a vegetative shell.
Soul Search.
"Let's go," the Third Elder said kindly. The juniors exchanged knowing smiles. "Where?" they asked.
"Liu Clan," he murmured.
In Spirit Realm Pearl's Husband-Wife Palace, Lan An and Ji Bing's nude forms intertwined. In his dantian, four cauldrons framed a spinning Soul Nurturing Lotus, its soul force enriching him. He channeled it to Ji Bing, healing her soul's wounds.
After two months, Lan An fully refined the lotus, integrating it into his dantian. His Soul Cultivation neared Late Nascent Soul. Using White Moon Soul-Seizing Eye to absorb Gu Fei Tian's Spirit Transformation soul, he broke through. Now, he focused on Ji Bing.
Days later, a sultry moan escaped her. Lan An shuddered, releasing pent-up essence, filling her. Satisfied, he gazed at her her face stirred, brows furrowing, nose twitching, lips parting with moans. Smiling, he continued moving, caressing her full breasts, teasing her peaks.
Her lashes fluttered, sensing fullness, her arms instinctively embracing him, craving more, though her eyes stayed shut. Lan An kissed her fiercely, savoring her tongue, drawing sweet nectar.
"Mmm!" Overwhelmed, her lashes quivered. Her locked lips muffled her moans. Finally, her eyes opened clear as jade, pure as ice, but blank, devoid of emotion, only confusion.
Lan An's heart skipped. Kissing her once more, he parted, wiping her sweat, asking gently, "Bing-er, how do you feel? Let me explain!"
Ji Bing tilted her head, blushing at their intimacy, but her eyes remained vacant. Her voice, crystalline, stunned him: "Bing-er? Is that my name? Who are you… and who am I?"