The Delicate Beauty Lin Qingwan

Zhu Lie let out a cold snort, a flash of cruelty and greed passing through his eyes. "The lost supreme treasure of the sect has appeared, and the elders have given a death order to retrieve it. As long as that person is within a hundred zhang, or dares to use even the slightest bit of the Golden Crow Fire, the Xunyang Compass will definitely sense it!"

He abruptly stopped his steps, his cold gaze sweeping over the bustling crowd around him as if looking at a flock of pigs and sheep waiting to be slaughtered.

"Better to kill by mistake than to let go. If I catch that little thief who stole the fire, I will definitely extract his soul and refine his spirit, making him suffer the pain of being burned by ten thousand fires!"

Zhao Fen hurriedly nodded and bowed, his triangular eyes darting around the crowd, looking exactly like a vicious dog hunting for prey.

"Senior brother is right! That little thief definitely won't be able to escape. But senior brother, what kind of strange fire convention is the Lin family holding? Should we go join the fun? I heard that the little lady of the Lin family is quite pretty..."

"Just a plaything."

Zhu Lie curled his lips disdainfully and strode towards the most luxurious inn in the city. "But since we're here, that 'Nine Nether Soul-Locking Flame' will naturally fall into the hands of our Blazing Sun Sacred Land!"

"Besides, the thief who stole the Golden Crow Fire might also participate."

"Let's go!"

...

Chiyan City, Lin Manor.

Today, the Lin Manor was decorated with lanterns and colored banners. The bright red silk fluttered in the rolling heat waves, but there was an indescribable smell of blood.

The air was filled with the mixed smell of sulfur, sweat, and cheap rouge, making it suffocating.

Hundreds of cultivators squeezed into the front courtyard square of the Lin Manor, which was paved with fire-patterned stones. Their eyes were burning with undisguised greed for profit.

They didn't come for the "number one beauty of Chiyan City," but for the dowry promised by the Lin family—the "Nine Nether Soul-Locking Flame" and Foundation Establishment spiritual objects.

In the cultivation world, women were merely appendages; only power was eternal.

A high platform was built in the center of the square.

Lin Zhennan, the head of the Lin family, sat in the center in a dark red brocade robe, his face glowing with health and his eyes full of kindness.

Beside him sat a woman in a wedding dress.

That was Lin Qingwan.

Lin Qingwan sat upright on a purple sandalwood chair, wearing a complex and gorgeous phoenix coronet and robes of rank.

The wedding dress was a breathtaking red, tightly wrapping her entire body.

However, this passionate red only served to highlight her almost sickly pallor.

She was stunningly beautiful, but also heartbreakingly so.

"Skin like creamy jade" was no longer enough to describe her. Her skin had a translucent texture, like top-quality mutton-fat white jade, glowing with a cold fluorescence under the scorching sun. One could even clearly see the pale blue blood vessels on the side of her neck, so fragile that it seemed as if a light touch would shatter her like colored glaze.

Her three thousand strands of black hair cascaded like a waterfall, loosely tied up with only a blood jade hairpin. A few strands of hair fell on her slender neck, damp with fine cold sweat, sticking to the hollow of her collarbone, exuding an indescribable desolate beauty.

She was too cold.

Even with the scorching sun high in the sky and the roaring fires of the furnaces around her, she still seemed like a piece of ten-thousand-year-old black ice that would never melt.

In those limpid autumn-water eyes, there was no shyness of a daughter waiting to be married, only the dead silence and bewilderment of a stagnant pool of water.

She curled her body slightly, her hands tightly gripping her sleeves, her knuckles turning white from excessive force, as if trying her best to endure the severe pain in her body that was like a maggot attached to the bone.

A gust of hot wind blew past, lifting a corner of her red veil.

A fleeting glimpse.

That face was only the size of a palm, with a pointed chin, exuding a suffocating sense of fragility. The cinnabar mole between her eyebrows was as red as blood, forming a strong visual contrast with her pale, sickly face.

She was like an ice lotus blooming on the edge of a cliff, about to wither, tottering, yet exuding a deadly faint fragrance.

Who wouldn't want to hold this ten-thousand-year-old black ice in their arms and use their own boiling heat to melt her?

Who wouldn't want to see this noble daughter of a prominent family stained with the colors of the mortal world beneath them?

Lin Qingwan slightly raised her eyes, but her gaze was unfocused, staring blankly into the void.

She didn't know she was the vessel of a demon fetus. She just felt so cold, so cold that it was as if she had fallen into a bottomless ice cave.

She longed for warmth.

Even if that warmth was the raging fire from hell, she would pounce on it without hesitation, even if she was burned to ashes.

This instinctive desire made her entire being exude a silent, damp temptation, as if silently begging:

"Save me... or destroy me."

Beside Lin Qingwan stood a hunched young man.

That was the eldest young master of the Lin family, Lin Junchang.

He wore a loose blue-grey robe, his face showing a ghastly pallor that hadn't seen the sun, with two heavy dark circles under his eyes. He held a silk handkerchief stained with medicinal juice in his hand, carefully wiping the cold sweat from Lin Qingwan's forehead.

His movements were gentle, his expression focused.

"Little sister, bear with it. Father will definitely find a good match for you."

Lin Qingwan nodded slightly.

"Outstanding heroes!"

Lin Zhennan stood up, his voice loud and clear, overpowering the noisy voices. "My daughter suffers from a strange disease and needs the most yang and masculine strange fire to suppress it. Today's martial arts competition for a spouse focuses primarily on strange fire. Regardless of background, as long as one passes the preliminary selection, they will be an honored guest of our Lin family!"

The rules were simple: show the strange fire, then touch Lin Qingwan's wrist.

If it could effectively neutralize the "cold poison" in her body, it would be considered a pass.

The line began to wriggle slowly.

A bare-chested rogue cultivator stepped forward. First, a ball of murky beast fire rose in his palm, and then he reached for Lin Qingwan's white wrist with a sinister smile.

"Eldest Miss, excuse me!"

Lin Qingwan frowned slightly but didn't dodge.

The moment the rogue cultivator's hand touched her skin,

Sizzle—!

As soon as his fingertips touched, a sudden change occurred.

That ball of beast fire, which was enough to melt gold and iron, seemed to have met its natural enemy and instantly shrank and extinguished.

Immediately after, a visible white frost frantically spread along the large man's arm.

"Ah! My hand! My fire!"

The large man screamed miserably. His entire right arm had been frozen purple, and that cold energy even rushed straight to his heart meridian along his meridians. He rolled down the high platform in a sorry state, twitching in pain on the ground.

The area below the platform instantly fell dead silent.

How was this getting married? This was clearly throwing one's life away!

"Next!"

Lin Zhennan waved his hand, his face showing neither joy nor anger.

"I'll give it a try."

A young master wearing a feather fan and silk cap leaped onto the high platform, a pale green "Earth Core Stone Fire" dancing on his fingertips.

He carefully pressed his hand against Lin Qingwan's pulse.

This time, the fire didn't extinguish.

Although the flame was tottering, it at least lasted for three breaths.

Lin Qingwan's tightly furrowed brows relaxed slightly.

"Good!"

Lin Zhennan stood up abruptly. "This young master, congratulations on passing the preliminary test. Please enter the back hall to rest!"

The young man showed wild joy and was respectfully invited behind the red tent by the maidservants.

On the outskirts of the crowd.

Wearing a bamboo hat and with her face covered in disgusting black moles, the "Ugly Slave" Ji Shuanghua stared fixedly at a figure in the corner.

That figure, wearing coarse linen clothes and standing tall and straight like a pine tree, was completely out of tune with the hunched and greed-filled rogue cultivators around him.