Fairy, don't go! I have a mod.

His ears were so red they looked like they were about to bleed, and he muttered, "A nobody is a nobody. He's useless at doing anything serious, but he's very enthusiastic about this kind of thing."

Lin Yanluo quickly pursed her lips.

Because Mu Tianmiao's lips were already pressed against her neck, his warm breath spraying behind her ear, and then he gently sucked on that small patch of delicate skin.

Her fingers clenched tightly around the cicada silk in her hand, her knuckles turning white, and she almost broke the silk thread that she had painstakingly refined all afternoon.

Mu Tianmiao's hands were also busy.

My fingertips traced her flat stomach through the thin fabric, feeling the muscles in her abdomen tighten and tremble slightly.

His other hand moved down her waistline, gripping her slender side and pulling her closer to him.

Lin Yanluo bit her lower lip, suppressing a very soft and delicate sound in her throat, refusing to let it escape.

Chen Zisu hid behind the moon gate, her concealment spells suppressing her aura, but they couldn't hide her eyes, which were widening and getting bigger.

Through the sparse and dense bamboo shadows, she could clearly see Mu Tianmiao holding Lin Yanluo in his arms, burying his head in the girl's neck, kissing and sucking her, while his hands were restlessly moving up and down.

Lin Yanluo's usually arrogant and domineering face was now filled with a suppressed sunset glow, her lips were bitten until they turned white, but she still stubbornly refused to say a word.

Chen Zisu clicked her tongue inwardly.

When Lin Yanluo called him "Dad" earlier, she thought it was a bit of an exaggeration, but now it seems that the little girl's description was actually quite polite.

She shook her head silently, mentally labeling Mu Tianmiao.

That's really weird.

But her feet seemed rooted to the ground, showing no intention of leaving.

She held her breath and watched as Mu Tianmiao grabbed Lin Yanluo's waist with both hands, lifted her up gently, and placed her on a table piled with cicada silk and refining tools.

The silver tweezers on the table clattered, and Lin Yanluo subconsciously reached out to support herself on the table, tilting her head back to meet Mu Tianmiao's downcast face.

The two faced each other, their noses almost touching, and then Mu Tianmiao lowered her head and kissed him.

Lin Yanluo closed her eyes, her hands went from supporting herself on the table to hooking around his neck, her legs dangled along the edge of the table before climbing up his waist.

Chen Zisu hid behind the moon gate, her body unconsciously leaning forward again and again, almost sticking her head into the courtyard.

Her heart was pounding, and her cheeks were burning.

Chen Zisu was engrossed in watching when suddenly a white, fluffy object flew towards her from the direction of the table.

She instinctively tilted her head to dodge, and the thing flew past her ear, landing lightly on the grass behind her.

She looked down...

It was a small, light purple bellyband, made of very thin material, clearly embroidered by Lin Yanluo herself.

Chen Zisu's face flushed red to the roots of her neck, as if she had been thrown into a pot of boiling water.

She covered her eyes, crouched down, turned and ran, her steps light and quick, cursing herself eight hundred times in her mind as she ran.

See, see, now look what happened!

She had just retreated to the storage room in the herb garden when Lin Yanluo's suppressed moans echoed through the courtyard.

The voice was soft and hoarse, intermittent, as if someone had been bullied badly but refused to beg for mercy. Occasionally, it would rise half a note, then quickly drop back down, turning into muffled groans.

Chen Zisu leaned against the wooden door of the storage room, her hands covering her burning cheeks, her face as red as a freshly brewed teapot from between her fingers to her ears.

Lin Yanluo was pressed down on the table, her back against the scattered cicada silk and fabric, her hands softly hooking around Mu Tianmiao's neck.

Her breathing was already erratic, yet she was still mumbling incoherently.

"Minor fish..."

"abnormal……"

Words like that just kept getting softer and softer, until finally they couldn't even spell out a complete syllable.

She never says anything hurtful, but her actions don't lie.

With each movement Mu Tianmiao made, her fingers would unconsciously tighten around the back of his neck, and her legs would lock him even tighter.

She silently admitted to herself that she enjoyed this feeling, the feeling of being dominated by him, controlled by him, and having her mind go blank from his thrusts.

One hour later.

Lin Yanluo's long, disheveled hair covered half of her face, revealing only a bright red ear tip.

Mu Tianmiao held a silver hair ribbon in her hand and clumsily tied her hair into a ponytail.

His technique was really bad; he gathered the hair several times, but a strand still slipped out from between his fingers, and the final ponytail he tied was crooked and looked like it had been chewed by a dog.

From the outside, it looked like Mu Tianmiao was serving her.

But in reality, under the table, Lin Yanluo had taken advantage of his inattention to bite his vital point and began to clean off the remaining spiritual liquid.

She cursed the fish as she spoke.

"It's all messed up, and I have to clean it up..."

Chen Zisu sat on a stone bench outside the herb garden, holding a cup of spiritual tea that had long since gone cold, staring blankly at the tea leaves floating in the cup.

It didn't move for a long time.

Her cheeks were still burning, and her heartbeat hadn't completely calmed down. The intermittent sounds from the courtyard just now seemed to be branded into her mind, and she couldn't shake them off.

She picked up her teacup and took a big gulp of cold tea. The icy water slid down her throat, finally calming down the inexplicable heat in her heart.

She took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled, and then spoke softly to herself in the empty courtyard.

"These two people... really..."

Halfway through her sentence, she realized she didn't know how to describe it, so she took another sip of tea.

Just then, a disciple from the herb garden hurried over and bowed to Chen Zisu.

"Elder Chen, Master Huiming from Nanshan Temple has arrived. He says he has something to discuss with Elder Lin."

Chen Zisu spat out the mouthful of tea she had just taken a sip of, the water vapor drawing a shimmering arc in the moonlight.

She didn't bother wiping the tea stains from the corner of her mouth, staring wide-eyed at the disciple, her voice cracking.

"...Now? Where is he?"

"Um... I'm waiting in the reception room of the medicine garden."

Chen Zisu stiffly turned her head and glanced at Lin Yanluo's room, where the light was still on.

The courtyard was quiet; even the cicadas had stopped chirping. No one knew whether the two people had finished or not.

She took a deep breath, stood up with a look of resignation, and said to the disciple.

"Go and ask Master Huiming to wait a moment. Tell him that Elder Lin is... is currently processing a batch of important spiritual materials, and it will be ready soon."

Chapter Ninety-Eight is more imposing this way.

Chen Zisu rushed to the front of the house in three quick steps and pushed the door open.

Then she froze at the doorway.

Lin Yanluo was kneeling in front of Mu Tianmiao's legs when she heard the door open and suddenly raised her head, a trace of spiritual liquid still hanging from the corner of her mouth.

Mu Tianmiao sat in the chair, her clothes disheveled, her expression shifting between embarrassment and despair.

The three of them stared at each other for a full two breaths.

Chen Zisu took a step back expressionlessly, slammed the door shut, and said through the door in the calmest tone she had ever used:

"Master Huiming needs to speak with you at the herb garden reception room..."

Master Huiming sat in the reception room of the herb garden, holding a steaming cup of spiritual tea in both hands, a kind and benevolent smile on his plump face.

He looked down at the clear tea in his cup, then looked up at the female disciple of the medicine garden who stood respectfully to his side. His lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but he held back.

The female disciple thought the master was dissatisfied with the tea, so she quickly bowed and said:

"Master, this is freshly picked Spirit Mist Spring Sprouts this year. If it doesn't suit your taste, I'll get you another cup."

Master Huiming, holding his prayer beads, smiled and shook his head.

"No need, no need, the tea is good tea."

He picked up his teacup and took a small sip, silently grumbling to himself...

It's good, but this stuff doesn't taste as good as wine...

How come you people from the Immortal Shadow Sect have absolutely no sense of hospitality...

Haven't you heard that the monks at Nanshan Temple don't have any dietary restrictions?

He put down his teacup, his gaze unconsciously drifting towards the door, hoping that Elder Lin would come out quickly and finish their business.

He wanted to find a secluded spot to take out a jug of spirit wine from his storage bag to satisfy his craving.

Master Huiming picked up his teacup and took another sip, continuing to ponder these thoughts that he could not share with outsiders.

When outsiders mention Nanshan Temple, they generally assume it to be a strictly disciplined and orthodox Buddhist sect...

That's all for outsiders to see.

The rule he set back then was to keep it a secret from outsiders, and those few words were quite insightful.

How the disciples below interpret it is their business.

Anyway, he never said we couldn't eat it.

You don't eat meat?

How can one cultivate oneself without eating meat?

Humans need to eat meat.

Reciting scriptures, meditating, and cultivating one's physical body every day consumes so much energy; what good is simply eating vegetarian food and chanting Buddhist mantras?

The golden Arhats under his seat, each one of them could devour half a spiritual lamb leg in one sitting.

That kid Yuantong was even more outrageous. When he came back from doing business down the mountain, he would bring him two jars of spirit wine, saying it was to pay respects to the abbot. He never refused when he accepted them.

Of course, he couldn't say these things to the people of the Immortal Shadow Sect. He could only continue to maintain the demeanor of a kind and benevolent high monk and quietly wait for Lin Yanluo to come out.

Don't get cocky... there aren't any Nascent Soul stage cultivators at Nanshan Temple...

A few minutes later, footsteps were heard outside the reception room.

Then the door was kicked open, and the two wooden doors slammed against the wall with a bang.

Lin Yanluo strode in, still with that haughty little devil expression, her chin slightly raised, her eyes looking down on everyone, and her two crooked ponytails swaying behind her head.

Master Huiming was pretending to savor tea when he was startled by the sudden sound of the door being kicked open. His hand trembled, and most of the spiritual tea in the teacup spilled out, splashing onto his brand-new cassock.

He coughed several times before catching his breath, wiping the tea off his robe with his sleeve while inwardly complaining.

Are the people from your Immortal Shadow Sect acting strangely...?

This is your own front door!

Chen Zisu followed closely behind, grabbed Lin Yanluo's sleeve, and shouted in a low voice, "Lin Yanluo! Are you crazy! Why are you kicking my door!"

Those two doors were new ones she had just replaced last month, made of the finest sandalwood. After Lin Yanluo kicked them, a clear crack appeared on the door panels.

Lin Yanluo glanced back at her and said matter-of-factly:

"Isn't that impressive?"

Lin Yanluo spoke with righteous indignation, but inwardly she was rolling her eyes.

She had finally managed to spend an hour with Mu Tianmiao, and was in the middle of a great time when Chen Zisu pushed open the door and interrupted her. She could let it go, since Mu Tianmiao was one of her own.

So what was this old monk doing coming to join in the fun so late at night?

A ritual implement?

When should ritual implements not be repaired?

Why does it have to be tonight?

Mu Tianmiao followed her in, her clothes neatly arranged, and her face bearing her usual composed smile.

When he met Master Huiming, he respectfully performed the courtesy due to a junior, his movements so perfect that there was not a single flaw.

There was absolutely no indication that he had done anything good in the next room just moments before.