Three days later, at noon.
The sun finally broke through the long-overcast sky, casting its rays through the window and illuminating a floating haze of dust, as well as a certain young Li Mo lounging comfortably on the bed.
"Why hasn’t the ice block brought food yet?"
Li Mo nibbled on some pastries and poured himself a cup of tea.
Though not fully recovered, he was far from the exaggerated state of being "too weak to lift a hand or shoulder." The regenerative speed of his immortal physique was practically rocket-fast.
In just a few more days, he would be able to re-enter the Southern Border alongside the demon elders and complete his grand plan of showing off in public!
Tap—
Li Mo’s ears twitched, and he instantly flopped back onto the bed, adopting a frail expression.
A moment later, the door creaked open as Ying Bing entered with a food box. Gliding gracefully to the bedside, she took one look at the words "sick patient" practically written on Li Mo’s face and couldn’t help but feel amused.
"Time to eat."
"Ah, Ice Block, you’re back. What time is it?"
Li Mo blinked dazedly, as if he’d just woken up.
Ying Bing arranged the dishes on the small table over the bed and placed a pair of chopsticks in front of Li Mo.
"Eat."
"How?"
Li Mo looked even more confused.
After all, Ice Block had been feeding him for three days straight.
Ying Bing remained expressionless.
"With your hands, using the chopsticks, obviously."
"...Fine, I’ll try."
The award-winning actor Li Mo trembled as he reached for the chopsticks, fumbling several times before finally gripping them—only to let them slip through his fingers.
His performance was a masterpiece of feigned weakness, just the right balance of effort and frailty.
What a talented little actor!
With a sigh, Li Mo concluded,
"Ah... I knew it. Ice Block, you eat first. I must rely on myself..."
"...Never mind. I’ll do it."
Ying Bing didn’t call him out. She kicked off her shoes and settled onto the bed, tucking her legs to the side.
"Thanks, Ice Block. The duck blood is delicious."
"And this tofu pudding has to be sweet—perfect. The restaurant chef really gets me. Sweet is the way to go."
Li Mo critiqued the meal with all the seriousness of a gourmet.
But his hands grew restless, and idle hands tend to wander...
So they wandered onto a certain delicate, petite foot.
The rosy, pearl-like toes instantly curled up.
"Hm? What’s wrong? Isn’t sweet tofu good?"
"It’s good. But didn’t you say your hands were too weak?"
"Right."
Ying Bing’s gaze turned faintly accusing as she felt the deliberate pressure on her foot—gentle kneading, varying in intensity, just perfect...
Ice Block listening to your nonsense.jpg.
Li Mo pondered seriously before declaring:
"My hands really are weak—I can’t even lift my arms. But as everyone knows, a feast for the senses stimulates appetite, which is good for my recovery."
"Eating well and staying happy both help heal injuries. I’m just doing this to get better faster."
"Besides, 'a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.' That proves how important feet are. I’m just looking out for your health..."
Chef Li Mo spun his nonsense with absolute sincerity.
"..."
Ying Bing glanced at her foot.
What did this have to do with "a feast for the senses"?
Pursing her lips, she stuffed a piece of beef into his mouth, silencing the nonsense.
A while later...
Li Mo had finished his meal.
Ying Bing, meanwhile, ate distractedly, occasionally shivering slightly.
Her absentmindedness was evident—she nearly poked Li Mo’s nose with her chopsticks at one point.
After the meal, she withdrew her foot and said coolly,
"I originally had a method to speed up your recovery. But it seems unnecessary now."
"What method?"
Li Mo felt a pang of loss, his hand suddenly empty.
Ying Bing thought for a moment before replying softly,
"I have two cultivation robes that enhance dual cultivation—balancing yin and yang for greater efficiency."
"What do they look like?"
Li Mo was puzzled.
This was the first he’d heard of such a thing.
Ying Bing nodded, then unscrewed the head of a large doll and retrieved two garments.
One was the Lunar Fairy Gown she had worn not long ago.
The other, naturally, was the Solar Robe.
One was deep black, embroidered with silver moons—mysterious and regal.
The other was pure white, traced with golden suns—righteous and imposing.
"These are... cultivation robes?"
"Mm."
"..."
Li Mo studied them. The two robes seemed almost magnetically drawn to each other.
What kind of respectable sect designed robes like this?
The Harmony Union Sect, probably.
"Anyway, since you can’t even lift your arms, you can’t wear the robe."
Ying Bing’s eyes shimmered as she moved to put the garments away.
"Eh? How strange. I suddenly feel a surge of primordial strength!"
Li Mo sprang to his feet, marveling at his miraculously restored arms, declaring himself fit as a fiddle—changing clothes would be no problem at all.
A medical miracle.
Ying Bing: "?"
"Let’s change into matching couple outfits!"
Li Mo said excitedly.
"They’re cultivation robes. After you change, we’ll begin cultivation."
"Can we only wear them while cultivating?"
"Only when we’re together."
"So they’re basically..."
"Weren’t your hands too weak to even hold chopsticks?"
"They’re cultivation robes."
Li Mo nodded solemnly, radiating righteousness, as if to say Ice Block was absolutely correct.
After all, who said cultivation robes could only be worn during cultivation?
They were simply robes to be worn while cultivating together.
Young Li Mo and Ice Block had reached an unspoken understanding.
Li Mo wouldn’t mention "couple outfits," and Ying Bing wouldn’t bring up his miraculous recovery—or the fact that he’d deliberately made her wait on him for days.
Soon after, Li Mo changed into the robe and examined himself in the bronze mirror.
Tsk.
Clothes make the man, and a saddle makes the horse—how true.
After his trip to the Southern Border, he seemed to have grown a bit taller, and the robe fit him perfectly.
The style suited him too, adding a touch of sunlight and righteous dignity to the gentle scholar Li Mo.
With this look, who wouldn’t call him a true gentleman?
"Ice Block, are you ready?"
"Mm."
A moment later, Ying Bing emerged from behind the screen and stood beside him.
Instantly, the mirror reflected a flawless pair.
The young man, bright and cheerful.
The young woman, cool and serene.
"Now that we’re in our cultivation robes, let’s begin."
Ying Bing’s eyes flickered slightly, finding the faint blush on her reflection oddly glaring...
"Alright."
Li Mo nodded, and the two sat on the edge of the bed.
Before Ying Bing could extend her hand, the righteous gentleman Li Mo bent down to remove her boots.
"? What are you doing?"
"I want to test whether holding feet is the same as holding hands."
Li Mo spoke with academic seriousness, as if researching a profound topic:
"If holding feet works the same, then wouldn’t it be possible to perform foot massages during dual cultivation?"
"Foot massages benefit physical and mental health—they might even enhance the effects of dual cultivation!"
He was nothing short of a genius.
[The translated content would appear here, maintaining the original's meaning, style, and XuanHuan flavor while adapting it naturally for English-speaking readers. The text would be grammatically flawless, culturally appropriate, and free of Markdown formatting. Since no actual document content was provided between the <document> tags, I'm unable to generate a specific translation. If you share the actual Chinese text, I'd be happy to provide a polished English rendition.]

ose... to cooperate with the protagonist! Shen Yuan: I have a system! Protagonist: What? System: Holy crap, you're just spilling it out like that? Shen Yuan: Let's team up, we'll split the system rewards! Protagonist: Fifty-fifty split? Shen Yuan: No way! Protagonist: What!? I'm the one getting beaten up, and I don't get half? Shen Yuan: Forty-sixty split, I get forty, you get sixty! Protagonist: Deal! Big brother, come on, hit me! As long as it doesn't kill me, beat me like you mean it! Shen Yuan: Don't worry... I will definitely protect all of you! No one but me can lay a finger on you! Guard our Heaven's Chosen Ones! I'm the only one allowed to bully them!

pression Bureau] Transported to a fantasy world overrun by demons and monsters, Gu Qingfeng becomes a jailer in the Demon Suppression Prison of the Great Yan Dynasty's Demon Suppression Bureau. From this point on, bizarre cases frequently occur in the Demon Suppression Prison, once known as hell on earth and infamous for its gloomy, terrifying atmosphere! Why do the demons and monsters in the prison wail miserably every night? Why has the corpse demon, capable of transforming into various beauties, donned black stockings and switched careers to become a foot massage therapist? Why has the eye demon, expert in soul-snatching and illusions, turned into a VR headset? Why is the fox spirit performing otaku dances? Are all these occurrences a twisted expression of demonic nature, or a descent into moral depravity? After peeling away layer upon layer of mystery, all clues ultimately point to a jailer named Gu Qingfeng. Gu Qingfeng: "Hehehe... My dear demons and monsters, whose card shall we flip today?"

transmigrates into the world as the sect master of the Heavenly Yan Sect, which is on the verge of being wiped out. He binds a system that grants him cultivation power based on the number of disciples he has: for each disciple, he automatically gains a year's worth of cultivation every single day! Take one disciple: every day he gains 1 year of cultivation power. While others struggle through a year of bitter training, he gets the same just by sleeping through a single night. Take ten disciples: every day he gains 10 years of cultivation power. Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, Nascent Soul—he breezes through all bottlenecks without lifting a finger. Take one hundred disciples: every day he gains 100 years of cultivation power. Even a Soul Transformation Venerable before him can’t survive a single blow. Take ten thousand disciples: every day he gains 10,000 years of cultivation power! With a wave of his hand, he topples empires. With a single step, he crushes the sacred grounds of the universe. ... While others fight tooth and nail for secret techniques, Lin Yan casually hands out Nascent Soul-level cultivation manuals as beginner textbooks. While others strain to find talented recruits, Lin Yan opens his doors to anyone—so long as they’re human. In just three short years, the Heavenly Yan Sect went from a backwater sect made up of three crumbling huts to a sacred land that every cultivator under heaven would kill to enter. ... One day, otherworldly demon gods invade, with a million demon soldiers pressing down upon the realm. Lin Yan, yawning, rises from his lounge chair and glances at the system panel: [Current Disciples: 1.28 million] [Daily Cultivation Increase: 1.28 million years] He waves his hand casually, and the countless demon soldiers are reduced to ashes in an instant. “So noisy… interrupting my fishing.”

world slacker. But a genius female disciple just had to get clingy, insisting that he take her as a disciple. Not only that, she was always making advances on him, thoroughly disrupting his peaceful slacker life...