The Spell That Makes You Drop Dead on the Spot

The memories ended.

Ye Xuan opened his eyes. The pool reflected his image, calm without the slightest ripple.

The fishing rod trembled slightly, but no fish took the bait.

He reeled in the line, casually rested the rod on a bluestone, stood up, and patted the hem of his clothes.

Ying'er immediately packed up the small stove and obediently followed behind him.

The spiritual mist of the Bliss Peak flowed slowly in the morning breeze, carrying the sweet, cloying scent unique to the Hehuan Sect.

Ye Xuan walked up the stone steps, his gaze sweeping over the passing disciples. Although their clothing was still thin and light, they were no longer entangled in pairs as rumors suggested.

Occasionally, cultivators traveling in groups of three or five maintained a strange restraint among themselves.

A cold sneer curled at the corner of his mouth.

The Hehuan Sect of today was no longer the demonic sect of the past.

Unless all involved parties unanimously agreed, no one from the top to the bottom of the Hehuan Sect was allowed to arbitrarily add Dao companions. Nor was coercion permitted. It had to be completely voluntary.

Not even the Sect Master could violate this.

Even if one party had the slightest objection, the sect's punishment hall would intervene and severely punish them under the charge of "forced dual cultivation."

This reform came quietly but completely changed the ecosystem of the Hehuan Sect.

Ye Xuan naturally knew whose handiwork this was.

Ye Qingcheng.

"Master, you walk so fast..." Ying'er complained breathlessly, her hands resting on her knees, her small face flushed red.

Ye Xuan turned a deaf ear.

His visit to the Hehuan Sect this time was naturally not just to seek asylum, but also for spells.

Soon, he stopped in front of an extremely remote courtyard. The vermilion door had long since peeled off, revealing a dull gray base. The characters on the plaque were blurred beyond recognition by wind and rain, like a ruined face.

This place was once the corner where he and Ye Qingcheng had sheltered as lowly outer disciples when they first joined the Hehuan Sect in their previous lives.

Later, this place became a forbidden area of the sect; and even later, it became a "holy land" personally sealed by Ye Qingcheng, where no one was allowed to set foot.

Now, the door was slightly ajar, as if waiting for an old friend.

Ye Xuan raised his hand, his fingertips touching the rough door panel, and pushed it open forcefully.

"Creak!"

A dull sound echoed in the silent mountain forest, as if pushing open a coffin sealed for a century.

The courtyard was overgrown with weeds, but a carefully trodden path wound its way straight to the main hall.

A trace of mockery flashed in Ye Xuan's eyes as he walked straight into the main hall and sat cross-legged on a dusty but neatly placed futon.

He chose to close his eyes and concentrate.

In an instant, an obscure, cold, yet incredibly familiar fluctuation rushed madly into his sea of consciousness from all directions, like rivers flowing into the sea.

It was done.

Ye Xuan suddenly opened his eyes, the curve of his mouth expanding bit by bit, carrying an almost morbid excitement and pleasure.

It turned out that when he deduced the "Allure of Love" in that cold coffin in his previous life, he was not satisfied with just letting himself die "quickly."

After all, the despair and hatred at that moment were too intense, so much so that he used his soul as a carving knife to densely and silently engrave the complete incantation of this peerless death curse into every inch of the Hehuan Sect's texture.

In the shadows of the formation hubs, in the crevices of stone pillar hidden compartments, in the depths of spiritual vein nodes, in the rings of ancient trees... even the core of the sect's mountain protection formation was planted with this highly toxic seed by him.

He wanted this spell to become a "curse" that the Hehuan Sect could never strip away forever.

Now it seemed that this perfect backup plan had awakened.

"Allure of Love".

This was a heaven-defying spell that required no spiritual energy circulation, ignored cultivation realms, ignored one's own conditions, and only required a thought to trigger the reversal of heaven and earth rules, shattering one's three ethereal and seven corporeal souls, completely annihilating them from the world.

Unsolvable, uncurable, no exceptions.

This was his best trump card, and also the most terrifying deterrence against that crazy woman.

Ye Xuan took a deep breath and began to receive this legacy. The incantations flooded into his sea of consciousness like a black tide, every word dripping with the resentment and determination he had when he was on the verge of death in his previous life.

He read extremely slowly, but extremely carefully, like admiring a perfect work of art.

In less than a quarter of an hour, the entire incantation had been burned into the depths of his soul like a branding iron.

When he opened his eyes again, a demonic blood-red color flashed quickly in the depths of his pupils, then returned to a bottomless darkness.

He stood up and paced slowly in the courtyard. His fingertips traced the cold walls and rotten pillars. Everywhere still retained the body temperature of his previous life.

After wandering around and confirming that this "authority of death" was firmly in his hands, Ye Xuan was in a great mood.

When leaving, he casually closed the door, his movements understated.

All the way down the mountain, unsurprisingly, he met "Ye Yage" again.

She stood under a flowering tree by the roadside, holding an exquisite mahogany food box in her hands. The sunlight sprinkled mottled on her face through the gaps in the leaves, gilding that pure and harmless face with a layer of holy gold.

She looked so beautiful, so shy, like a frightened fawn.

"Senior Brother."

She called out softly, her voice cloyingly sweet, as if coated in honey.

Ye Xuan didn't stop, and didn't even let his gaze linger on her for half a second, as cold as looking at a rock by the roadside.

A trace of panic flashed in Ye Qingcheng's eyes. She proactively came forward, reaching out her slender fingers to pull his sleeve: "Senior Brother, I made some sponge cakes, I heard it's the taste of your hometown, you—"

Ye Xuan was like getting an electric shock, subconsciously stepping back half a step, and flicked his sleeve away from her fingertips.

His movements were extremely fast, carrying undisguised disgust and loathing, as if she was some dirty thing.

Ye Qingcheng's hand froze in mid-air.

She stood frozen in place, her eyes turning red at a visible speed.

That injured look was seventy percent feigned pitifulness, but thirty percent was genuine, piercing pain.

"Senior Brother... what's wrong?" Her voice trembled, carrying a crying tone: "Did Yage do something wrong? Did I make you angry?"

Ye Xuan forcefully suppressed the surging nausea in his heart, looking down at her condescendingly, and said coldly: "I am only here to cultivate in the sect, stop calling me Senior Brother at every turn, do I know you?"

Ye Qingcheng bit her lower lip so hard that it turned pale. Crystal tears hung on her long eyelashes, on the verge of falling, but she stubbornly refused to let them drop.

She lowered her head, revealing a fragile white neck, her voice as thin as a mosquito: "I understand... I'm sorry."

Ye Xuan coldly snorted and bypassed her to stride away.

Ying'er followed behind, turned back to look, and muttered softly: "Master, this Junior Sister Ye is so strange. The way she looked at you just now... straight on, like she wanted to swallow you whole."

Ye Xuan didn't speak, just raised his hand and rubbed Ying'er's head, his eyes icy cold.

Returning to the Listening Rain Pavilion, Ye Xuan sat in the main seat, his mood inexplicably cheerful.

However, less than half a day later, the familiar, suffocating soft knocking sound came from outside the door again.

"Senior Brother... it's me."

Ye Qingcheng's voice came through the door panel, carrying cautious flattery and humility, "May I come in?"

Ye Xuan held his teacup, his fingertips gently rubbing the rim of the cup, a playful smile curling at the corner of his mouth: "Come in."

The door was pushed open gently.

Ye Qingcheng had changed into a plain, moon-white dress. Without any makeup, her pitch-black hair was held up by a single wooden hairpin, making her look exceptionally pure and delicate.

Carrying a food container, she walked in with her eyes lowered submissively, looking exactly like a timid little wife terrified of being abandoned.

Ying'er stood to the side, glaring at her warily like a little beast guarding its food.

Ye Qingcheng placed the food container on the table and opened the lid, revealing several crystal-clear pastries that emanated a faint spiritual aura. Try some, Senior Brother. I made these myself, and it took quite a bit of effort.

Ye Xuan didn't move. He only said flatly, Sit.

Flattered and overwhelmed, Ye Qingcheng carefully sat down in a lower seat. She wrung her hands together, her knuckles turning slightly white from the force.

After a moment of silence, Ye Xuan suddenly turned his head, revealing an extremely gentle, spring-breeze-like smile. Junior Sister, why don't you come over and visit more often?

Ye Qingcheng's head snapped up, her pupils shrinking violently.

The wild joy that instantly exploded in the depths of her eyes made her almost uncontrollably want to stand up. Really? You don't find me annoying, Senior Brother?

Of course not, Ye Xuan's voice was warm and smooth, like a trap luring in prey. I am new here, and I am exactly in need of someone to guide me through the sect's affairs.

Ye Qingcheng nodded repeatedly, the corners of her mouth rising uncontrollably, her eyes flashing with a near-obsessive light.

The two strolled together through the courtyard. Ying'er followed reluctantly behind, kicking at the pebbles under her feet.

Ye Qingcheng's gaze casually swept over Ying'er. A trace of cold, sinister murderous intent flashed deep in her eyes, yet her smile grew even gentler. Senior Brother, little sister Ying'er doesn't have a Dao companion yet, right? There are many excellent disciples in the sect, and I know a few with great backgrounds and character. Why don't I play matchmaker for her?

Ye Xuan's footsteps paused. He turned his head sharply, his gaze like a knife. She is my maid. Her affairs are none of your damn business. You care too much.

The smile on Ye Qingcheng's face froze instantly. She immediately withdrew her aura and bowed her head in apology. I'm sorry, Senior Brother. I crossed the line.

Ying'er snorted, tilting her small face up and declaring loudly with disdain, I don't want any Dao companion! I'm going to follow my master for the rest of my life, and my master still needs me to warm his bed!

As soon as these words were spoken, Ye Qingcheng's pupils quaked violently, as if she had heard some unforgivable blasphemy.

An incredibly terrifying demonic aura surged madly within her body, almost breaking through her fragile disguise.

Her hands, hidden in her sleeves, dug fiercely into her palms. Her nails pierced her flesh, and blood seeped out, but she remained completely oblivious.

Kill her.

Kill her, kill her, kill her!

Peel off her skin, rip out her tongue, and chop to pieces every part of her that has ever touched Senior Brother!

Senior Brother is mine. No one can lay a finger on him, no one!!

Ye Qingcheng gritted her teeth tightly, her whole body trembling slightly. Her pure mask was on the verge of shattering, yet she forcefully squeezed out a smile uglier than crying. So... that's how it is.

Ye Xuan keenly caught the momentary, almost tangible murderous intent in her eyes.

Remaining impassive, he calmly twisted the knife, his tone as casual as if he were discussing the weather. The reason I escaped from Xia Lengyue's grasp was precisely because she couldn't tolerate Ying'er.

Ye Qingcheng's breathing caught sharply.

The boiling murderous intent was like a basin of ice water poured over her head, extinguishing instantly.

She remembered her past life.

Back then, Ye Xuan had completely fallen out with her over Su Rou.

He had hated her for hundreds of years because of it, and even chose to die right in front of her.

She didn't dare to gamble.

She truly didn't dare to gamble again.

That was an abyss more terrifying than hell itself.

Ye Qingcheng slowly lowered her head, swallowing all her madness, jealousy, and brutality back into her stomach. Her voice was as soft as a mosquito's, carrying endless grievance and compromise. Senior Brother is right... It was my fault.

In the days that followed, Ye Qingcheng completely transformed into a cat eager to please its master.

She came to the Listening Rain Pavilion almost every day, bringing premium spiritual tea, rare spiritual fruits, and precious artifact-refining materials. She even collected isolated manuscript manuals from the Joyous Union Sect's scripture pavilion, piling them high in Ye Xuan's study.

Ye Xuan refused nothing, accepting everything she brought, yet he always maintained a sense of aloof detachment.

On this day, dusk was approaching, and the setting sun was as red as blood.

The two were strolling in the courtyard again. Ye Xuan suddenly stopped in his tracks, looking at the distant, mist-shrouded spiritual peaks, and asked seemingly casually, What is the most powerful cultivation method in the Joyous Union Sect?

Ye Qingcheng answered immediately, a hint of pride in her tone. Naturally, it is the Yin-Yang Demonic Tome. The path of dual cultivation points directly to the Great Dao. It is the number one wondrous art in the world.

Ye Xuan nodded, turned around, and looked at her with a profound gaze, his tone meaningful. However, I comprehended a spell today, and I think that is the true number one in the world.

Ye Qingcheng's heart skipped a beat inexplicably, and a strong premonition of doom instantly enveloped her entire body.

She looked at Ye Xuan, only to see the corners of his mouth slowly curl up into a spine-chilling, sinister smile. Those eyes saw through all her disguises and locked directly onto her soul:

This spell is called Qingcheng's Love.

Hearing these words, Ye Qingcheng's mind went completely blank, and her face instantly turned as pale as paper.

Fear.

An indescribable fear stemming from the very depths of her soul instantly crushed her defenses.

She screamed almost instinctively, her voice sharp and shrill: No! You cannot cultivate this spell! Absolutely not!

Ye Xuan raised an eyebrow, the cold sneer on his lips deepening, carrying a cruelty of one who controlled everything. What spell I cultivate is none of your damn business. If you want to stay here, stay; if not, then get out.

Ye Qingcheng suddenly realized she had lost her composure. The terrifying pressure of a Tribulation Transcendence realm mighty figure within her body almost leaked out.

She took a desperate, deep breath, forcefully suppressing the stormy panic in her heart, and tremblingly forced out a smile uglier than crying:

Please calm your anger, Senior Brother... I just, I just heard that this spell, Qingcheng's Love, is completely useless other than making people commit suicide, so I got anxious for a moment...

Completely useless?

Ye Xuan chuckled lightly, sighing and shaking his head, yet his tone carried a chilling mockery. Just based on the suicide aspect alone, it is very useful.

He took a step forward, staring intensely into Ye Qingcheng's eyes, his voice low. Think about it. If I were imprisoned by someone, bound by chains, my cultivation crippled, forced to look at a certain person's face day and night, unable to even die, living on in such darkness... what kind of despair would that be?

Ye Qingcheng's pupils suddenly shrank to the size of pinpricks.

Ye Xuan looked at her trembling eyelashes and continued, I feel that rather than living like that, it would be much cleaner to just commit suicide. End it all once and for all. Don't you agree?

Ye Qingcheng felt cold all over, her teeth chattering, her voice trembling terribly. How... how could that be? You are so wonderful, Senior Brother, how could anyone do such a thing... No one would ever do that...

Well, Xia Lengyue wanted to do exactly that to me.

Ye Xuan revealed a meaningful smile, his eyes ice-cold. That is why I escaped from her. To prevent anything similar from happening again, I must master this spell.

A cold glint flashed in Ye Qingcheng's eyes.

Xia Lengyue... that bitch! To think she also wanted to...

But what terrified her even more was that Ye Xuan had truly mastered that spell.

The spell that allowed him to die on the spot with just a single thought.

This meant that she could never, ever force herself upon him, nor lock him away in the golden cage she had so painstakingly crafted.

If she dared to make a move, he would die right in front of her.

Just like before.

Ye Xuan glanced at her. Watching this once-imperious demoness tremble before him now, a surge of vindictive pleasure welled up in his heart.

He said flatly, "In short, I have mastered this spell and can use it at any time. This is my trump card."

Ye Qingcheng went weak all over, barely able to stand.

She looked at Ye Xuan, her eyes brimming with pleading and shattered tears, her voice carrying a humble, sobbing tone:

"Senior Brother, you absolutely must not use this spell... I am begging you, promise me, alright?"

Ye Xuan sneered. His voice was as light as the wind, yet it carried a bone-piercing chill. Every word was driven into her heart like a nail:

"Let us hope there never comes a day when I have to use it."

The wind blew through the courtyard, sweeping up a few withered yellow leaves that twirled in the air before falling.

Ye Qingcheng stood alone in place, watching Ye Xuan's cold back disappear at the end of the corridor.

She slowly lowered her head, her long nails digging deeply into the flesh of her palms. Blood dripped down her fingertips to the ground, staining the dust red. Yet, she felt no pain whatsoever.

Only her heart felt as if a piece had been brutally gouged out, leaving a hollow void for the wind to howl through.

"Senior Brother..."

She muttered to herself, a dark storm of madness, obsession, fear, and despair surging in her eyes.

"You are mine..."

"As long as you are good... as long as you do not leave me... I will not do those things... I will endure it..."

"I will endure it..."