He Learned to Turn the Tables and Even Threaten Others

The damp spring rain seemed to herald the arrival of midsummer, casting a hazy glaze over the glazed tiles.

The rain was light, and the flickering lamplight in the Striding Cloud Tower only deepened the silence.

Once, Little Li had heard someone say that if you reach a speed of eighty kilometers per hour and stretch your hand out the window, you could feel "C."

Even with six or seven people riding it, the Somersault Cloud must surely exceed eighty kilometers per hour, right?

Back then, Little Li had tried it, stretching out his hand—only to realize now how ignorant he had been.

That size... was impossible to grasp with just one hand.

And... since when did wind have a grainy texture?

Little Li stood by the window, gazing at the shimmering lights reflected on the Jing River, the fine drizzle cooling his face as he maintained an expression of utmost seriousness.

"Ice Block, that move you used earlier was incredible."

"That wasn’t martial arts."

Little Li earnestly analyzed Ice Block’s technique, as if he had never felt such a burning curiosity for martial arts before—like a top student who, even after class, would rush to the teacher’s office with a workbook, hungry for knowledge.

And as everyone knew, Ice Block’s mastery of martial arts was unfathomable. No matter the question, if it was about martial arts, she always had an answer.

Last time, Li Mo had received Old Xiao’s "Thousand Forms Manual." Upon opening it, he discovered that this martial art had a history stretching back two thousand years—a peerless divine technique.

He shared it with Ice Block.

Half an hour later, a revised edition of the "Thousand Forms Manual" appeared on the tea table, bearing elegant handwritten notes:

"Times change, and so does the Dao. I’ve removed the outdated flaws that no longer suit the present era."

Just look at this dedication to teaching, listen to this effortlessly profound explanation.

As someone blessed with a system, destined for greatness...

"Even the best fall sometimes..."

Well, to be honest, being stared at by Ying Bing’s piercing gaze made Little Li a little uneasy.

"Was it really an accident?"

Ying Bing gently kneaded a large-headed doll, making it creak and groan in protest.

"Really! When people lose their balance, they instinctively grab onto something."

Anyone who saw Li Mo’s expression would swear he was a true gentleman.

"But when I withdrew my strength, you could’ve dodged."

"What nonsense! Then you would’ve fallen! How could I just stand by and watch?"

Li Mo spoke with conviction.

And guilt.

"Then why, when you said your whole body was numb, could you still use your hand?" Ying Bing narrowed her beautiful eyes.

"Well..."

Li Mo held his breath, took a sip from Ice Block’s tea, and said:

"It was an unconscious reaction. Sometimes, hands have a mind of their own."

"You..."

"Just like how people unconsciously put their feet in warm places."

"...Fair point."

Ying Bing glanced down at her toes—though she couldn’t actually see them—and tucked her snow-white feet back, dropping the subject.

Li Mo finally exhaled in relief. "By the way, Ice Block, what’s the biggest reason I can’t beat you in sparring?"

Truthfully, he had already asked this question earlier.

But Little Li hadn’t listened, let alone remembered.

As everyone knew, the Frost Fairy never repeated herself.

Yet, seeing Li Mo pick up his notebook, his eyes as clueless as a silly goose’s, she couldn’t help but sigh inwardly.

"First, this is a spar."

"Second, even at the same realm, my soul force has always been stronger than yours. Not to mention, your nine apertures aren’t yet perfected, and you’re not leveraging your greatest strength—trying to win through martial arts and soul force alone."

"In all of history, among third-realm cultivators, your greatest advantage—unprecedented—is your physical body."

Ying Bing’s point was: A martial artist without weaknesses is good.

But what truly matters is how far their strengths can go.

Given the same talent and effort, the one who relentlessly hones a single aspect will always be stronger.

This time, he must really be paying attention, right?

Ying Bing glanced up from her teacup to see him scribbling notes earnestly, even licking the dry brush tip.

Her fingers gently wiped away the ink stain at the corner of his lips.

The action felt so natural that it surprised even her.

Why did it come so effortlessly?

Good times never last. Li Mo soon filled several pages—some questions were his, others were for Chu Long.

"I’ll sleep at your place tonight."

Ying Bing removed her hairpin, letting her silky black hair cascade down.

"Sure."

Li Mo nodded without thinking, stepping out first—only to realize he didn’t hear footsteps behind him. And the light seemed off.

Why was it getting darker?

Turning back, he saw the door, now barely a sliver of light, and behind it—Ice Block’s faintly amused eyes, the usual scholarly composure now tinged with a mischievous glint.

"Eh?" Li Mo froze.

Thud—

The door closed.

"......"

It took Li Mo a long moment to realize he’d been fooled by the mischievous Ice Block.

Hmm...

But then he remembered—when he and Ying Bing had first arrived at Purple Sun Prefecture, she had been truly icy. Back then, if his gaze lingered on her for more than two seconds, or if he stepped within three meters of her, he’d be met with the Frost Fairy’s glare, freezing him to the bone.

That was when "Ice Block" became his go-to nickname for her.

If this "misunderstanding" had happened back then, how would he have explained himself?

Well, he probably wouldn’t have gotten the chance. Before anything could happen, his "sinful trotters" might’ve waved goodbye and sailed off on their own.

Back then, Ice Block’s "keep away" aura wasn’t just about unfamiliarity—it was a matter of life and death.

Only he got to see this mischievous side of her.

Buzz—

A ripple from his inner world snapped him out of his thoughts. Li Mo hurried back to his room and flopped onto the bed.

......

What Little Li didn’t know was this:

Leaning against the door, Ying Bing listened as his footsteps faded. The feigned amusement in her eyes slowly dissolved into faint bewilderment.

She had been reborn, so she always treated Li Mo like a child.

In short—"Little Li? Please, as the Phoenix Heavenly Empress, I can handle him with ease."

But just now... Little Li had turned the tables, even threatening her...

[Congratulations, Host. You have secured first place in this system ranking.]

Midnight had passed.

Hearing the system’s chime, Ying Bing felt as if a weight had lifted from her chest.

In the past, topping the rankings would’ve been expected—nothing worth celebrating.

But now, she felt... relieved.

"No need to carry out the punishment," Ying Bing murmured.

[Not necessarily.]

Ying Bing: "?"

[Host, please do not doubt the system’s integrity. This system is honest and never goes back on its word. The mandatory punishment is indeed canceled.]

As if to prove its point, the punishment task—[Plant forty-nine hickeys, then call him 'husband']—slowly faded away.

"But don't you think... you've taught him too well? And since you've already taught him... he's mastered everything, and now his courage keeps growing. Can you really guarantee he won't act without punishment?"

The ice block sat on the bed, unconsciously touching her ivory-white neck.

Her mind flashed back to the scene in the grove where she'd taught him how to reinforce the seal...

"I can only vouch for myself..."