Journey to the End of the Night
Chapter 161 - 161 160 This Little Corpse Demon is Too Powerful

161: Chapter 160: This Little Corpse Demon is Too Powerful 161: Chapter 160: This Little Corpse Demon is Too Powerful Wen Hanwei instinctively wanted to raise her hand to cover her cheek, but realized her balled-up little fist was tightly gripped by Baili An’s icy palm.

He was very obedient, not letting the fresh blood spill everywhere, conscientiously curling his tongue to gather the blood that had overflowed his lips back inside.

But doing so inevitably meant touching the skin on her neck again.

Her Blood Energy was clearly not yet depleted, yet Wen Hanwei felt as if all her strength had been drained, unable to even clench her fists.

The sensation…

was so strange.

The palm resting on the back of her neck seemed to feel her body becoming gradually limp, unable to stand steadily on its own.

For the convenience of his “morning meal,” that hand cleverly slid down her spine, finally firmly supporting her delicate waist and somewhat forcefully pulling her into his embrace.

Their chests were tightly pressed against each other, the lop-eared Afu Tu stuck motionlessly between gently rolling hills.

With a lifeless face, the rabbit’s mouth moved rapidly, a picture of total despair.

Wen Hanwei suddenly felt her weakly clenched fist being pried open by his cold, slender fingers.

Her palm seemed to be covered in a thin layer of sweat.

Her amber eyes were like the mist that covers the morning dew.

It was truly strange; it hadn’t been like this last night when she fed him her blood.

Time passed, and her chest, pressed against his cold body, began to rise and fall with uneasy restlessness.

She bit her lip, on the verge of losing all restraint.

His cold lips and tusks finally left her skin, leaving behind two lustrous, cinnabar-like red dots against her snow-like complexion.

After feeding, the emptiness and weakness in his stomach were gone, and Baili An’s muddled consciousness started to clear.

He lifted his head from her neck in astonishment.

The crimson in his pupils had long faded, turning into clear blackness, his gaze bewildered and his lips still marked with a striking trace of red.

The lingering sweetness on his tongue, and the two red marks on the pale skin, silently informed him of his recent actions.

If he were still a normal person, Baili An would certainly break out in a cold sweat.

The morning breeze blew through the branches and leaves, a pure white wildflower like snow extended out, its buds closed in the dawn dew, trembling in the cold wind, releasing a chilling fragrance.

Wen Hanwei’s ragged breathing circled his ear.

One hand weakly propped on his shoulder while the other still maintained the intertwined fingers pressed against the tree.

Her fingers were long and thin, the tips excessively pale, turning a faint shade of red whether from gasping or something else.

What’s more distressing, he’d focused too intently on his sanguine meal that only afterward did he realize Wen Hanwei’s bloodstained white clothing now bore an ambiguous dishevelment.

One side of her shoulder had been unknowingly tugged down several inches, revealing an exquisite and petite collarbone, almost dazzling to the eye.

“Wen…

Sister, I…” Baili An suddenly felt an impulse to bash his head against a tree.

The very same person who had said he needed but a finger, not her neck, was indeed him.

It was as if he had willingly offered his neck, but still had to put on a facade of reluctance, playing the gentleman for her to see.

In the end, it turned out to be an unscrupulous initiative, greedily nibbling at her neck more than anyone, blatantly shameless.

Nipping and biting were one thing, but how could he explain appearing like a lecherous cad right now?

Wen Hanwei withdrew her hand from his palm, waved at him, then retrieved her slipped clothing to cover her neckline.

Her face was flushed, her voice tense as she spoke, “No, no, this Corpse Poison is so fierce, I can’t bear this.”

Her forehead was sweaty, the early morning chill of Chaotic Netherworld Valley unable to quench the heat within.

Her cool gaze was no more, a light peach hue emerged around her eyes.

Wen Hanwei’s gaze turned somber, her pale fingers pulling at her neckline, unable to resist the urge to scratch at the wound while speaking with a touch of gloomy confusion, “It’s scorching like little bugs tunneling through the wound, so hot, the itchiness is unbearable, and that strange feeling is burrowing into my heart.

Why is it like this?”

Baili An watched the woman in his arms slowly raise her eyes, full of moist desire, her clear eyes unintentionally captivating, yet scalding.

Her voice, usually cold, now held only a soft murmur, wafting into Baili An’s ears on the breeze.

His heart skipped a beat, his brow furrowed as he gently moved her fingers from the itchy spot on her wound to inspect the injury, his tone inevitably carrying a weight of self-reproach.

“The Corpse Poison is so fierce?

Even Wen Sister’s Immortal Body can’t withstand it, does Taixuan Sect not have a method to expel Corpse Poison?”

Upon closer inspection, the two tiny wounds were bright red, devoid of any blackish-green color.

This meant that the poison from his tusks had been purified by her blood the moment it pierced her skin.

Strange…

Baili An was somewhat puzzled.

Wen Hanwei gently pushed him away, her expression a mix of vexation and contemplation, biting her nails in thought before finally coming to a conclusion, lifting her eyes to earnestly say to Baili An, “I must be sick with a fever.”

“Ah?” Baili An was somewhat dumbfounded, “Do Immortals also get sick and feverish?”

Wen Hanwei continued to chew on her nails, frowning as she analyzed, “In Chaotic Netherworld Valley, the foul air is too heavy.

Also, being injured by that corpse demon has allowed illness to take advantage, it’s nothing surprising.”

She sighed, her eyes gradually becoming clear and resolute, “It seems my cultivation is still too shallow.

With such a feeble and vulnerable body, no wonder I can’t surpass my fellow Senior Brothers and Sisters, only bearing the title of the Nine Classics.”

“Is…

Is that so?” Baili An felt something was off.

“Mhm,” Wen Hanwei nodded seriously.

With some frustration, she said, “I thought after two hundred years of secluded cultivation, I could close the gap with my Senior Brothers and Sisters.

Yet today’s successive defeats show I’m still too weak.”

Baili An also fell into brief thought, then encouraged her with spirit, “That corpse demon named Sikong, his strength cannot be measured in ordinary terms.

I believe he must be stronger than all the Taixuan Nine Classics combined, losing to him is nothing shameful, Sister Wen is already very formidable.”

Wen Hanwei’s brows remained tightly furrowed, absentmindedly replying with a hum, then asking, “Are you full?”

She had wanted to add if he wasn’t, did he want more.

But then recalling his potent tusks, she decided against it.

The frailty she had just exhibited was so unlike her usual self.

Taken aback by this abrupt shift in conversation, Baili An was stumped for a moment but finally cleared his throat with embarrassment and nodded in agreement.