When Lu Mingyin had fallen into complete despair, ready to give up on her wooden sword and resign herself to this hellish “torture,” she suddenly saw, out of the corner of her eye, a figure she knew all too well. Leaning against the dojo’s doorway, he gazed at her with a gentle smile. At that instant, her dim ruby-like eyes shone with a brightness they had never possessed before.

“Papa—!!!”

A jubilant cry echoed in the air.

The girl instinctively dropped the wooden sword and, with her short legs, shot forward like a white cannonball, launching herself at the all-powerful, greatest hero in her heart.

“Oof.”

Lu Jingming smiled, catching the small figure as she flew into his arms. The soft touch, the warm body temperature, and the familiar scent—a mix of milk and sweat—felt so real.

“My little princess, what’s wrong? Who made you unhappy?”

Lu Jingming embraced his daughter and gently caressed her chubby little cheeks with his own.

“Master Jingliu! She’s a big meanie!”

Now that Lu Mingyin had found her greatest support in the world, she immediately began to complain with all her might. Her tiny hands clung tightly around Lu Jingming’s neck, her beautiful ruby-like eyes quickly filling with sorrowful tears, as if she had suffered the world’s most cruel abuse.

“Daddy, you have no idea! Master Jingliu is so strong. She made me keep swinging the sword, over and over. My hands are about to break, they’re all blistered!”

As she spoke, she held out her small, soft, white palm with a serious expression. Her palm was tinged slightly red from gripping the wooden sword for so long, and there were even the faint beginnings of blisters.

Lu Jingming watched his daughter’s exaggerated performance, feeling both amused and a little angry in his heart. He took her soft little hand, brought it to his lips, and gently blew on it, speaking in an even more exaggerated tone.

“Oh my, what is this? This is serious! Master Jingliu is far too ruthless. No, Daddy has to give her a serious scolding!”

“Mm! Daddy, you’re the best!”

Upon hearing her father take her side, Lu Mingyin immediately burst into laughter through her tears. She wrapped her arms around Lu Jingming’s neck and kissed his cheek.

“Then let’s stop practicing, okay? Daddy, take me to play! I want to see the photos Mama March took, and I want to eat the sweet cake Aunt Mei made!”

The girl’s eyes sparkled with cunning and anticipation.

“Hmm…”

Lu Jingming deliberately drew out his reply, glancing over at Jingliu, who wasn’t too far away. Of course, he knew that Jingliu was putting his two children through this for their own good. Whether it was his daughter Lu Mingyin or his son Lu Xingtong, both had inherited the most distinguished legacy in the world from his bloodline. But the greater the power at the top, the stronger and more resilient the heart needed to be. Jingliu’s sword training was the best furnace to temper their will.

“If you really don’t want to practice swordsmanship, that’s fine.”

Lu Jingming pinched his daughter’s small, upturned nose and smiled.

“But you have to promise Daddy one condition.”

“What kind of condition?”

Lu Mingyin immediately asked with interest.

“Once you can withstand Master Jingliu’s training and persist for ten rounds, Daddy will make a special ‘Princess Spaceship’ just for you, and take you into space to see the stars. How about that?”

“Really?!”

Lu Mingyin’s eyes sparkled instantly.

“Will it be prettier than Astral Express?”

“Of course.”

Lu Jingming nodded affirmatively. “We’ll use the brightest star as the light, and weave sails from the silk of the Milky Way, alright?”

“Wow! Deal, it’s settled! No cheating!”

The little girl immediately held out her tiny thumb. “Pinky promise!”

“Alright, pinky promise.”

Lu Jingming smiled and hooked his finger with her small, soft one.

“A pinky promise, sealed for a hundred years, never to change!”

After making this promise, the bitterness of sword practice seemed to melt away from Lu Mingyin. She happily leapt from Lu Jingming’s arms, ran to the nearby robin who was watching with a gentle expression, and began chattering excitedly about her soon-to-be “Princess” adventure.

Having soothed his daughter, Lu Jingming turned his gaze to the other small figure who had been quietly practicing his sword since he arrived—Lu Xingtong. Unlike his lively, mischievous sister, this son had inherited both his looks and temperament, showing a calm, introverted attitude far beyond his peers since childhood.

At this moment, he was still diligently repeating the monotonous sword-swinging motion. Sweat dripped down his small face, yet he seemed not to notice. His crimson eyes were just like Lu Jingming’s: filled with nothing but focus and perseverance.

Lu Jingming slowly walked over to him, saying nothing, merely watching in silence.

Lu Xingtong seemed to sense his father’s presence. His sword swings paused slightly, then became firmer and more precise—as if some indomitable force in his small body was refusing to admit defeat, desperate to prove himself to his father.

“Not bad.”

Finally, when Lu Xingtong had swung the sword another hundred times, Lu Jingming spoke up.

“Your mind is calm, and your sword is steady.”

Hearing his father’s praise, the tension on Lu Xingtong’s little face finally eased a bit. The corners of his mouth lifted ever so slightly into a barely noticeable arc, but he quickly suppressed it. He stopped his movements, turned, and called out to Lu Jingming.

“Father.”

“Mm.”

Lu Jingming responded, and instead of patting his son’s head, he gave his shoulder a gentle tap, just like a true swordsman.

“But it’s not enough.”

Lu Jingming looked into his son’s eyes, his tone serious.

“Your sword has form, but no intention.”

“What does that mean?”

Lu Xingtong frowned in confusion.

“That is to say…”

Lu Jingming didn’t explain in detail. To him, these words were a bit enigmatic. He simply reached out, took the ordinary wooden sword from his son’s hand, and stepped forward.

There was no surge of sword energy, no divine power, not even the sound of air splitting. It was just an ordinary, unremarkable swing.

But in Lu Xingtong’s crimson eyes, he “saw” a completely different scene.

With his father’s swing, it was as if the entire dojo was split in two. He “saw” the tip of his father’s sword carrying the birth and death of stars, the rotation of the universe. He “saw” a sword intent he could not comprehend, yet it shook his soul.

Lu Xingtong was utterly dazed.

It wasn’t until Lu Jingming handed the ordinary wooden sword back to him that he snapped back to reality. He stared at the sword in his hand, then at his smiling father. For the first time, a flame of “longing and pursuit” ignited in his crimson eyes.

“Understood.”

Lu Jingming turned back to the robin and smiled gently.

“Robin, thank you for your hard work. Let them rest for now. I have something to discuss privately with Jingliu.”

“Alright.”

Robin was clever and instantly saw through Lu Jingming’s intention to send them away. She nodded, took the still-excited little girl in one hand, and stepped forward.

“Mingyin, Xingtong, let’s go. Let’s give your father and Master Jingliu some time to talk.”

Lu Mingyin happily acquiesced, while Lu Xingtong silently nodded and left the dojo with Robin.

In an instant, the vast dojo was left with only Lu Jingming and Jingliu.

Jingliu remained silent, simply standing there. From the moment Lu Jingming entered the dojo, it was as if she had known that this moment would come. She was waiting, too.

The wind stilled.

Only Lu Jingming and Jingliu remained in the vast dojo.

Lu Jingming slowly approached Jingliu, stopping three steps away. He opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Jingliu’s cold voice, even colder than the dojo itself, rang out.

“Let’s fight.”

It was not a request, nor a discussion.

It was a challenge—a battle invitation from one swordsman to another.

“Then let’s talk through our swords.”

Lu Jingming was momentarily stunned. He looked at the woman before him, her eyes covered by a black cloth, her slender body as if it supported a piece of the sky itself. He instantly understood everything she meant—sometimes, words weren’t necessary.

He immediately responded with a smile. “Alright.”

He said nothing more, just gently waved his hand.

The dojo before them vanished.

The ground beneath their feet disappeared.

The next instant, the two were already standing amidst the cold, dead stars of the universe.

“Draw your sword.”

Jingliu extended her right hand. An endless, frigid aura condensed violently in her palm, finally forging itself into her most familiar, peerless sword—Shard Sword—shaped by moonlight and ice.

The tip of the sword pointed coldly at Lu Jingming. Its freezing edge seemed to chill even this eternal starry sky.

“I cannot refuse.”

Lu Jingming smiled, no longer restraining his own power.

Golden flames burned in his palm, incinerating everything.

Within the flames, a colossal two-handed sword, brimming with destruction and might, slowly took shape.

—Heavenly Fire Saint Judgment.

Greatsword form.

No one knew how this battle would end.

…

No one knew the outcome.

The starry sky was utterly engulfed by an inexpressible ultimate “ice” and “fire.”

Laws were shattered.

Space howled.

Even time itself lost its meaning, transcending conceptual duels.

Just like that.

When the figures of Lu Jingming and Jingliu reappeared in the air above the floating city—Haiyuan City—everything was already decided.

Jingliu’s entire body weakly leaned against Lu Jingming’s arms.

Her divine power was utterly spent.

Even her normally sparkling battle skirt was marked by several small tears.

And most of all—

The black cloth belt covering her eyes was gone.

Her beautiful, ruby-like, cold eyes—now tinged with a fatigue never seen before—were exposed to the air.

She had lost.

Completely and utterly defeated.

Lu Jingming lowered his head, gazing at the woman in his arms, stripped of all her disguises and icy barriers. Her beautiful face appeared slightly unreal beneath the gentle light of Haiyuan City.

“Master.”

A long-suppressed hoarseness tinged his voice.

“I’ve waited so long for this day.”

As his words fell, he no longer hesitated.

Lu Jingming lowered his head and kissed the cold, red lips he had dreamed of so many times.

Jingliu’s body trembled suddenly, her beautiful crimson eyes widening slightly—but she did not resist. Instead, she quietly closed her eyes. The hands that had once wielded the world’s sharpest blade now rose, weakly, to gently encircle Lu Jingming’s neck.

She had quietly endured every demand from the man she once taught, but now, facing such overwhelming strength, she could only surrender in respect.

It was a long kiss, nearly suffocating.

Dominant, yet tender.

As if they wished to meld their souls together through their bodies.

When their lips finally parted,

Even though her heart was as calm as still water, a rare blush spread across her face, frozen for ten thousand years. Her breath quickened.

Seeing this unprecedentedly moving side of her, Lu Jingming couldn’t help but smile. He stooped down, lifting Jingliu entirely into his embrace.

With a single step,

The surrounding scenery changed in an instant, replaced by a spacious, elegant bedroom full of Lu Jingming’s aura.

He gently placed her on the soft bed,

Gazing down at her.

“I’m sorry, Master.”

His voice was magnetic, brimming with barely concealed desire.

“Just for today—let me be the one to teach you.”

After he finished speaking,

Lu Jingming’s movements were astonishingly skillful. With practiced ease, he undid the complicated knots of her skirt, letting the plain white garment slide away, revealing a scene of beauty sculpted like perfect ice and snow.

Jingliu was extremely docile.

She simply lay there in silence, gazing up at him with calm crimson eyes.

She had always known this day would come.

She yielded to Lu Jingming’s desire.

And perhaps, deep in her heart, there lingered a trace of anticipation she herself dared not acknowledge.

Lu Jingming’s hands roamed her exposed skin with a reverence that bordered on worship, his fingers tracing the elegant lines of her body—her full, pert breasts crowned with pale pink nipples that hardened under his gaze, the smooth dip of her waist flaring into wide hips, and the soft, hairless mound of her pussy, already glistening with arousal.

Her skin was flawless, like polished alabaster, cool to the touch yet warming beneath his heat.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against her neck, eliciting a soft, involuntary gasp from Jingliu.

Her crimson eyes fluttered shut as he claimed her mouth again, this time with a hunger that mirrored the flames of his sword.

His body pressed against hers, the heat of his golden aura contrasting sharply with her icy essence, creating a storm of sensation that made her arch beneath him.

With deliberate slowness, he shed his own clothes, revealing the sculpted strength that had bested her in battle—his broad chest rippling with muscle, abs etched like carved stone, and his thick, veined cock standing erect, throbbing with need, its tip already leaking precum.

Jingliu’s hands, still weak from their duel, reached up to explore him, her touch tentative at first, then more insistent, as if mapping the victor who had conquered her—her fingers wrapping around his shaft, feeling its girth and heat.

Lu Jingming guided her legs apart, exposing the slick, pink folds of her entrance, her clit swollen and sensitive.

His gaze locked on hers, seeking the silent permission in those ruby depths.

She gave it with a subtle nod, her breath hitching as he positioned the head of his cock at her tight, wet opening.

He entered her in one smooth, powerful thrust, stretching her velvety walls around his length.

Jingliu’s nails dug into his back, a mix of pain and pleasure etching across her features as he moved within her—his cock sliding deep, hitting her cervix with every plunge, her pussy clenching around him like a vice.

Her usual stoic calm shattered into quiet moans, her body responding to his dominance with a surrender that was both profound and intoxicating—her breasts bouncing with each thrust, her juices coating his shaft and dripping down her thighs.

Lu Jingming’s pace quickened, his hands pinning her wrists above her head, claiming every inch of her as his own—squeezing her breasts, pinching her nipples until she whimpered, his balls slapping against her ass with wet, rhythmic sounds.

The room filled with the sounds of their union—the slick rhythm of flesh against flesh, her breathless whispers of his name, and his low growls of possession.

Waves of ecstasy built between them, her inner walls pulsing and milking him as she neared the edge, her crimson eyes glazing with unfiltered desire.

Lu Jingming drove deeper, his own release building in tandem, until they shattered together in a climax—her body convulsing around him, her pussy spasming as she came hard, soaking his cock in her release.

He buried himself to the hilt, groaning as he erupted inside her, his hot seed flooding her depths in thick, pulsing jets, creampieing her completely.

She felt every spurt, the warmth spreading through her core, marking her as his.

They clung to each other in the aftermath, sweat-slicked and spent, their breaths mingling. As he slowly pulled out, a trail of his cum leaked from her well-fucked pussy, glistening on her thighs—a testament to their union.

There were no words throughout the night.

The taste could not be described, only understood.

…

…

Soft morning light gently filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the bedroom.

Lu Jingming awoke, wrapped in a warm, soft sensation.

His head was nestled in the graceful curve of Jingliu’s form, his cheek pressed against skin smoother and more delicate than the finest silk.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep