A Record of a Mortal's Journey to Immortality: The Nine Nether Lock Immortal Ring

"The three restrictions Senior mentioned... what are they?" Ye Fan turned around, looking at Su Qianxue kneeling on the ground. Her face was flushed, clearly having guessed something. A female cultivator, a male cultivator, the so-called "restrictions," in the cultivation world of the Tiannan Continent, often carried only one meaning. But the restrictions Ye Fan spoke of might not be what she imagined. "This first restriction is called the 'Profound Yin Spirit Locking Ring'," Ye Fan said slowly. "Forged with the power of the Nine Netherworld, once cast, it will limit your range of movement and can never be removed in this lifetime—unless I perish, the restriction will never dissipate." Su Qianxue's face grew even redder. Limit... range of movement... Never to be removed? Doesn't that mean she'll be... for her entire life... "The second restriction," Ye Fan didn't give her time to think, "is called the 'Immortal Binding Circle' and the 'Chastity Lock Band.' It will seal your cultivation above the Golden Core stage, and at the same time... prohibit self-detonation." Su Qianxue's head shot up, her face turning pale: "Prohibit self-detonation?" "Yes," Ye Fan's gaze did not waver. "If you attempt to betray me, or act against me, the restriction will detonate on its own, obliterating your body and soul." Su Qianxue opened her mouth, unsure of what to say. "The third restriction," Ye Fan's voice grew a touch fainter, "is called the 'Profound Yin Twin Rings' and the 'Spirit Locking Ring.' It will completely control your life and death, and at the same time... allow us to share thoughts and destinies." He paused, adding, "The third restriction, once cast, can also never be removed." The stone chamber was so quiet one could hear a pin drop. Su Qianxue knelt on the ground, her hands resting on her knees, her head bowed, her shoulders trembling slightly. Her mind was in chaos, a tangle of thoughts making it almost impossible to think. The 'Profound Yin Spirit Locking Ring' that could never be removed. The Immortal Binding Circle that sealed her cultivation. The Chastity Lock Band that prohibited self-detonation. And... These were not restrictions at all! These were clearly... they were... Su Qianxue's face was as red as if it were about to bleed. But at the same time, another thought circled in her mind. This person had saved her. When she was at her wit's end and certain to die, it was he who descended from the heavens and killed those who were pursuing her. He healed her wounds, changed her clothes, cooked her porridge, and even asked her who her enemies were. For a fleeting moment, then he looked away. But deep within his pupils, a faint ripple passed – a preference from the depths of his soul, one he himself hadn't noticed. Su Qianxue closed her eyes, unaware of where Ye Fan was looking. She only felt her feet enveloped in a golden light, warm and pleasant, not uncomfortable. The golden light slowly condensed, forming two exquisite golden rings at her ankles. The rings snapped shut around her ankles, fitting perfectly – neither loose enough to fall off, nor tight enough to pinch. Intricate runes were carved all over the rings. The moment they touched her skin, the runes seemed to come alive, flickering slightly before dimming and merging into the rings themselves. Connecting the two ankle rings was a golden chain, twelve inches long. The chain was equally delicate, woven from countless tiny gold links, each inscribed with runes invisible to the naked eye. The chain swayed gently in the air, emitting a crisp metallic clinking sound – *ding-dang, ding-dang*. After the shackles were formed, the golden light did not dissipate. Instead, it continued to spread upwards, enveloping Su Qianxue’s hands. The same process occurred. The golden light enveloped her hands, condensing into two golden bracelets at her wrists. These bracelets were slightly smaller than the ankle rings, fitting just as snugly, and also covered in runes. Connecting the two wrist bracelets was a golden chain, eight inches long. The wrist chain was shorter than the ankle chain, restricting the range of motion for her hands. Su Qianxue tried to spread her hands apart; the chain tightened, allowing her to separate them by only about a foot. The golden light receded. The stone chamber fell silent, leaving only the faint sound of metal clinking – *ding-dang, ding-dang*. Su Qianxue opened her eyes and looked down. Golden handcuffs were locked around her wrists, the chain hanging down, swaying gently. She tried to raise her hands, and the chain responded with a crisp chime. She looked down at her feet again. Golden shackles were locked around her ankles, the short chain dangling between them. She tried to take two steps, the chains jingling, her stride restricted to within twelve inches. She couldn't take large steps. Shame. Overwhelming shame. Su Qianxue’s face burned like fire. She instinctively covered her face with her shackled hands, afraid to look at Ye Fan. But she could feel it – her bare feet on the cold stone floor, the chains dangling around her ankles, making a *ding-dang* sound with every movement. The sensation was foreign and strange, making her entire body feel hot. Su Qianxue lowered her hands, looking down at the golden handcuffs on her wrists, then at the golden shackles on her ankles. The golden chains shimmered with a faint luster in the dim stone chamber, creating a stark contrast with her fair skin. A question suddenly occurred to her: "Young Master… will this restriction seal my cultivation?" "Su Qianxue." Ye Fan's voice turned serious. "You are my concubine. Your body, from the inside out, every inch of it belongs to me. You should have understood this when you accepted the restriction." Su Qianxue bit her lip, remaining silent. "If you regret it now, there's still time," Ye Fan said. "I can remove the restriction and let you go. But if you choose to stay, you must learn to accept all of this." Su Qianxue was silent for a long time. Bamboo leaves rustled, and the wind blew her skirt, revealing her bare feet and the golden shackles on her ankles. "I don't regret it," she finally spoke, her voice soft but firm. "I just... need time to adapt." "I know," Ye Fan nodded. "So we'll take it slow. Today, we'll only learn the basics – the location of acupoints and the path of spiritual energy guidance. You don't need to complete everything." Su Qianxue took a deep breath and nodded. "Lie down," Ye Fan gestured to the bluestone. Su Qianxue lay down on the bluestone. The cold stone against her back made her shiver slightly. She placed her hands by her sides, the golden chains of the handcuffs dangling down, making a crisp sound as they touched the stone. "Lift your skirt." Su Qianxue closed her eyes, grabbed the hem of her skirt with both hands, and slowly pulled it up. The skirt was pulled up to her waist, revealing her bare lower body. Her legs were long and straight, her skin as white as snow. The golden waist chain gleamed in the sunlight, and the golden chain in front dangled down, connecting to the exquisite golden orchid. The orchid clung tightly to her vulva, its petal outlines clearly visible. The spiritual stone in the center, pressed against her clitoris, glowed faintly. Su Qianxue's legs instinctively wanted to close, but Ye Fan's hand pressed down on her knees. "Separate them." Su Qianxue bit her lip and slowly spread her legs apart. Her most private parts were exposed to the air, and to Ye Fan's gaze. The chastity lock was ingeniously designed – the orchid fit snugly against the shape of her labia majora, but didn't completely cover them. Her labia minora peeked out from the edges of the petals, a tender pink, with a few glistening droplets clinging to them. "The Profound Yin body indeed has its unique qualities," Ye Fan stated calmly. Su Qianxue wished she could disappear into the ground. "The cultivation technique will make your body increasingly sensitive. After completing the first layer of cultivation, your body has already begun to change," Ye Fan said. He extended a finger and gently touched the golden orchid. "Ah..." Su Qianxue trembled all over. The spiritual stone on the orchid was activated by spiritual energy and began to vibrate slightly. The vibration transmitted directly to her clitoris, bringing a wave of tingling pleasure. "The spiritual stone on the chastity lock has two modes," Ye Fan explained. "One is the daily mode, which just adheres without vibrating. The other is the cultivation mode, which will vibrate continuously, stimulating your clitoris and helping to expel the Profound Yin energy." He moved his finger, and the intensity of the vibration doubled. "Ahhh..." Su Qianxue couldn't help but moan, her hips involuntarily arching. The vibrating spiritual stone pressed against her clitoris, and the tingling pleasure spread from her lower abdomen to her entire body, making her limbs weak. "Senior... you're too powerful... ah..." Ye Fan's palm pressed down on Feng Jiuling's shoulder. "You—" Feng Jiuling tried to break free, but a strange force surged from Ye Fan's palm, seeping directly into her meridians. The force was cold and viscous, like countless tiny snakes, spreading along her meridians. Wherever it went, her spiritual energy circulation became sluggish. "What kind of technique is this!" Feng Jiuling exclaimed, a mixture of shock and anger. "Profound Yin Immortal Locking Art," Ye Fan's voice was calm. "Specifically designed to counter your pure Yang constitution." The Nine Nether Immortal Locking Ring on his wrist blazed with golden light, transforming into countless golden chain phantoms that surged towards Feng Jiuling from all directions. Feng Jiuling desperately activated her Phoenix True Fire, golden flames burning on her body, attempting to burn through the phantom chains. But the chains were spiritual entities, not physical ones; the flames could not touch them at all. The phantom chains pierced through the flames, coiling around Feng Jiuling's wrists, ankles, waist, and neck. "No—!" Feng Jiuling let out a roar of unwilling rage, struggling with all her might. But the chains tightened, sealing her spiritual energy bit by bit. The flames extinguished. The flame dress dissipated, revealing her naked body. The phantom chains solidified—golden handcuffs clasped her wrists, golden shackles locked her ankles, a golden collar encircled her neck, and a golden waist chain bound her slender waist. Feng Jiuling fell to her knees with a thud, her hands locked behind her back, unable to move her entire body. She tried to activate her spiritual energy, but found her cultivation suppressed to the Foundation Establishment stage—no, even lower than Foundation Establishment, only at the Qi Refining level. "You..." Feng Jiuling looked up, her eyes filled with fury and shock. "What did you do to me!" "The restriction of the Nine Nether Immortal Locking Ring," Ye Fan crouched down, meeting her gaze. "It temporarily seals your cultivation. Don't worry, it won't harm you." "Let me go!" Feng Jiuling struggled desperately, the handcuffs and shackles clanking, but they didn't budge. "No," Ye Fan shook his head. "You're too agitated right now. If I let you go, you'll just fight again. We'll talk when you've calmed down." "You—!" Feng Jiuling trembled with rage, but it was useless. Her cultivation was sealed to the Qi Refining stage, she didn't even have the strength to break free from these restraints. Moreover, the restraints had restrictions; the more she struggled, the tighter they became. Su Qianxue walked back from the edge of the mountain hollow. Looking at Feng Jiuling kneeling on the ground, a flicker of sympathy flashed in her eyes. "Senior, should we give her some clothes?" "No need," Ye Fan said. "Let her calm down first." He turned and walked to the Vermilion Fruit tree, sat down cross-legged, took a pill from his storage bag, and began to meditate and heal his injuries. Feng Jiuling knelt on the grass, completely naked, her hands locked behind her, golden shackles on her ankles. The morning breeze blew, and the blades of grass brushed against her bare skin, bringing a subtle itch. She could feel the sunlight on her body, on her breasts, on her lower abdomen, between her legs. Shame. Anger. "I'm not nervous," Feng Jiuling said stubbornly. Ye Fan didn't call her out. Golden light enveloped Feng Jiuling's feet. She was wearing the cloth shoes given to her by Su Qianxue. But in the golden light, the shoes and socks instantly turned to ash, revealing her bare feet. Feng Jiuling's feet were indeed beautiful. Unlike Su Qianxue's delicate and fair skin, hers had a more powerful feel—slender, well-proportioned, with smooth lines. Her arches were high, her toes long and slender, and her toenails were a natural vermilion, like ten small rubies—a characteristic of her phoenix bloodline, different from ordinary humans. Her ankles were delicate, her ankle bones prominent, and her skin was a healthy wheat color, shimmering faintly in the golden light. Ye Fan's gaze lingered on her bare feet for a moment before moving away. The golden light condensed, forming two exquisite golden anklets around her ankles, fitting snugly. A twelve-inch golden chain connected the anklets. Then came her hands. Ye Fan unlocked the temporary chains on her wrists, and the golden light condensed again, transforming into two golden handcuffs that clasped her wrists, with an eight-inch chain. Finally, her neck. A golden collar formed around her neck, one finger wide, fitting perfectly. The front was inlaid with a red gem—the same natural vermilion as Feng Jiuling's toenails. The golden light dissipated, and the Nine Nether Immortal Binding Rings flew back to Ye Fan's wrist. Feng Jiuling looked down at the golden shackles on her hands and feet, then touched the collar around her neck, her expression complex. She gritted her teeth and tried to take two steps. The foot chains jingled, restricting her movement. Feng Jiuling already possessed the unique elegance of the phoenix clan, and now, with the restriction of the foot chains, she exuded a different kind of restrained beauty. "Next is the second restriction," Ye Fan said. "You already have the Immortal Binding Cuffs; you're still missing the Chastity Lock Belt." Feng Jiuling's face instantly flushed red. Chastity Lock Belt. She had seen it on Su Qianxue—that golden chain hanging from her waist, the front part clipped to her vulva, and the back part inserted into her anal cleft. "Can we..." Feng Jiuling's voice trembled slightly, "skip this one?" "No," Ye Fan shook his head. "The three restrictions are indispensable." Feng Jiuling bit her lip, hesitating for a long time. "...Alright." "Take off your skirt." Feng Jiuling took a deep breath, a faint light condensing at her fingertips, and slowly cast a spell—her white skirt slid down silently, revealing her naked body. Her body was breathtakingly beautiful under the moonlight. Wheat-colored skin, smooth muscle lines, full breasts, a flat abdomen, and slender legs. Between her legs was a patch of fiery red hair, like a burning flame in the moonlight. "Spread your legs," Ye Fan said. Feng Jiuling closed her eyes and slowly spread her legs... Ye Fan formed a hand seal, and the Nine Nether Immortal Locking Ring suddenly blazed with light. A golden waist chain materialized around Feng Jiuling's waist, encircling her slender form. Two delicate gold chains dangled from the front of the waist chain, one extending forward and the other backward. The end of the front gold chain was attached to an exquisite golden phoenix. Unlike the orchid given to Su Qianxue, Feng Jiuling received a phoenix. The phoenix was depicted with its wings slightly spread, and its stamen was inlaid with a tiny, rice-sized red spirit stone. Ye Fan's fingers grasped the golden phoenix and gently pressed it against Feng Jiuling's clitoris. "Ah..." Feng Jiuling's body trembled. The cold touch of metal against her most sensitive spot sent shivers down her spine. The phoenix's wings molded perfectly to the shape of her vulva, with the spirit stone precisely positioned against her clitoris. "The back," Ye Fan said. Feng Jiuling turned around, trembling, her hands braced on her knees, her buttocks raised. This was the most shameful thing she had ever done – standing naked before a man, her backside exposed, revealing her most intimate rear. The end of the back gold chain was connected to a smooth, golden bead, larger than Su Qianxue's, oval in shape, with phoenix feather patterns etched onto its surface. Ye Fan's fingers held the bead, pressing it against her perineum, and slowly pushed it in. "Mmm..." Feng Jiuling bit her lip, feeling the cool bead stretch her anus, sliding in bit by bit. The sensation was utterly strange, a powerful fullness, but better than when Ye Fan's fingers had entered last night – the bead was smooth and lubricated. Once the bead was fully inside, the back chain tightened, becoming one with the waist chain. "Done." Feng Jiuling straightened up, looking down at the golden chain around her waist. The phoenix in front pressed firmly against her clitoris, the spirit stone resting against her sensitive flesh, creating a subtle friction with each breath. The bead in the back was lodged internally, bringing a peculiar pressure with every step she took. "Next is the third restraint," Ye Fan said. "The Profound Yin Twin Rings and the Immortal Locking Ring." Feng Jiuling's body visibly stiffened. She had seen the nipple rings and clitoral rings on Su Qianxue – delicate gold rings threaded through the nipples, and through the foreskin and labia of the clitoris, adorned with small bells or spirit stones. "The Profound Yin Twin Rings are the nipple rings," Ye Fan explained. "The Immortal Locking Ring is the clitoral ring. Together with the chastity belt, they form a complete restraint network." Feng Jiuling gritted her teeth, remaining silent. "Raise your hands," Ye Fan commanded. Feng Jiuling raised her hands, her nipples hardening. Ye Fan's fingers grasped her left nipple, gently caressing it. "Ah..." Feng Jiuling let out a soft moan. Ye Fan's thumb and index finger pinched her nipple, twisting it lightly, causing the pale pink flesh to quickly swell and become erect. The Nine Nether Immortal Locking Ring glowed, and golden light condensed at her nipples, transforming into two delicate small rings – nipple rings. Each nipple ring was a thin, golden circle, adorned with a tiny bell engraved with phoenix patterns. Ye Fan took out a fine golden needle. "Bear with it." This restraint... it's less a shackle and more a gift. On the third day, Liu Mengli made her decision. "Senior," she found Ye Fan and knelt before him, "I am willing to be your concubine and hand over the 'Grand Ceremony of Yin and Yang Union.' But I have one condition." "Speak." "Help me get rid of the Joyous Union Sect's bounty on my head," Liu Mengli said. "I don't want to be hunted for the rest of my life." "Agreed," Ye Fan nodded. "Once your restraint stabilizes, I will personally visit the Joyous Union Sect." "Thank you, Senior." Liu Mengli bowed respectfully. "Rise," Ye Fan said calmly. "Since you've agreed, you may call me 'Young Master' from now on. Now, I will bestow the first restraint upon you." Liu Mengli slowly stood, her heart beating a little faster. She had seen similar restraints in the Joyous Union Sect – the kind Sect Master Hua Zizai placed on his cauldrons, handcuffs, shackles, collars, locking away cultivation, restricting movement, making life worse than death. But the restraints on Su Qianxue and Feng Jiuling seemed different. Ye Fan activated the Nine Nether Immortal Locking Ring. The golden ring flew from his wrist, hovering in mid-air, its golden light enveloping Liu Mengli's feet. Her shoes and socks turned to ash in the golden light, revealing her bare feet. The light condensed, forming two exquisite golden anklets around her ankles, fitting snugly. A twelve-inch golden chain connected the anklets. Next were her hands. Identical golden handcuffs clasped her wrists, the chain eight inches long. Finally, her neck. A golden collar formed around her neck, one finger wide, fitting perfectly, with a pink gem embedded on the front. As the golden light dissipated, the Nine Nether Immortal Locking Ring returned to Ye Fan's wrist. Liu Mengli looked down at the golden shackles on her hands and feet, then touched the collar around her neck, a complex expression flashing in her eyes. She tried to take a few steps. The chains on her feet jingled, restricting her stride. Her original gait already possessed the unique seductive grace of the Joyous Union Sect; now, constrained by the chains, it became even more alluring. "The rest will be applied once your injuries have healed," Ye Fan said. "For now, I will teach you the first level of the 'Profound Yin Maiden Cultivation Scripture.'" Liu Mengli's face flushed slightly. "Young Master... I have studied the cultivation techniques of the Joyous Union Sect..." "It's different," Ye Fan shook his head. "The Joyous Union Sect's techniques are about extraction; mine are about mutual complementation. You need to start from the beginning." "Yes," Liu Mengli lowered her head. Ye Fan descended from his seat and stood before her. He formed a hand seal and beckoned, and the Nine Nether Lock Immortal Ring on his wrist erupted in a blinding golden light, illuminating the entire hall with its brilliance. Ji Yaoshuang closed her eyes, allowing the golden light to envelop her. The golden light first touched her feet. Her boots dissolved into dust within the radiance, revealing a pair of bare feet. Ji Yaoshuang's feet were unlike those of Su Qianxue, Feng Jiuling, or Liu Mengli—slender and fair, as if meticulously carved from frost and snow. Her toes were evenly proportioned and delicate, her toenails shimmering with a faint ice-blue luminescence, originating from the same source as her cultivation technique. Her arches were high, her anklebones as exquisite as carved jade, her skin so pale it was almost translucent, with fine azure veins faintly visible beneath, as if they might shatter with the slightest touch. Ye Fan's gaze lingered on her bare feet for a moment before moving away. The golden light coalesced, and two exquisite golden shackles materialized around her ankles, fitting perfectly onto those slender bones. A foot-long golden chain connected the shackles, emitting a faint jingle with her slightest movement. Next were her hands. Identical golden handcuffs clasped her wrists, their chains eight inches long, both delicate and secure. Finally, her neck. A golden Immortal Binding Circle formed around her slender neck, an inch wide, fitting without a single gap. An ice-blue gem was embedded on the front of the collar, its luster as radiant and identical to the color of her toenails. The golden light dissipated, and the Nine Nether Lock Immortal Ring returned to Ye Fan's wrist, falling silent. Ji Yaoshuang lowered her head, looking at the new golden shackles on her wrists and ankles, then raised a hand to touch the Immortal Binding Circle around her neck, her expression complex and unutterable. She tried to take two steps, and the ankle chains produced a crisp jingle, her stride limited by the foot-long chain, making it impossible to walk far or fast. Her naturally aloof and graceful gait, unique to the North Cold Immortal Palace, was now imbued with an indescribable, captive beauty by the shackles. Ye Fan said, "There are two more restrictions. I will apply them together." Ji Yaoshuang's body stiffened slightly, and she asked in a low voice, "Is it that urgent?" "The cold poison in your body has already begun to act. The sooner the restrictions are applied, the sooner we can begin dual cultivation to resolve the cold poison. Delaying by even a day increases the danger." Ji Yaoshuang took a deep breath and closed her eyes again: "...Begin." The uncontainable heat from deep within her body was forcing her hand. Sunset squeezed through the cracks in the window lattice, casting long, thin shadows on her cheeks. She lowered her head, looking at her hands – the golden cuffs on her wrists clung to her skin, the chains glinting with a cold, faint light. She tried to turn her wrists, but the metal rings didn't budge, as if they had been there since her birth. She gritted her teeth, walked to the bedside, and sat down. Cross-legged, she closed her eyes and began to attempt to circulate her spiritual energy. She was a cultivator at the late Nascent Soul stage. Hundreds of years of practice had made her control over spiritual energy masterful. Although more than half of her cultivation had been suppressed by the restraints, she refused to believe she couldn't break free from them. Spiritual energy surged from her qi sea, flowing along her meridians to her limbs and bones. She carefully guided the energy, like guiding a wisp of icy spring water, attempting to seep into the golden cuffs on her wrists and dismantle their structure from within. The moment her spiritual energy touched the handcuffs— The golden light flared intensely. "Ah—!" Ji Yaoshuang cried out in pain. A portion of the sound was muffled by the collar, becoming hoarse and broken. Her spiritual energy felt like it had slammed into a red-hot iron wall. Instead of being blocked, it was violently repelled. The rebounding spiritual energy surged backward through her meridians, like thousands of ice needles piercing her channels simultaneously, igniting a wave of intense, sharp pain. And this was only the beginning. The handcuffs, shackles, and collar—all began to tighten simultaneously. It wasn't an illusion. They were truly tightening. The collar, which had a slight gap before, now felt as if an invisible hand was strangling her throat. The golden ring slowly contracted, pressing on both sides of her trachea, making every breath difficult, with only a thin wisp managing to enter her lungs. "Mmm… cough… cough cough…" Ji Yaoshuang raised her hands to grab the collar, her knuckles digging into the space between the golden ring and her neck, desperately trying to pry it open. But the golden ring remained unyielding; instead, it tightened further due to her struggles. She could feel the edge of the collar digging into the skin of her neck, pressing against the cartilage in her throat, emitting a faint "crackling" sound—not from the golden ring, but from her own throat. The handcuffs were also constricting. The golden rings bit into the flesh of her wrists, pressing on the meridians at her wrists, causing her hands to go numb, her fingertips turning bluish-white. The shackles were tightening as well. The golden rings on her ankles sank deeply into her skin, the short chains pulled taut, locking her feet firmly in place. She tried to move her feet, only to find that her anklebones were clamped so tightly by the golden rings that every slight movement caused the rings to sink deeper. However, these were not the most terrifying things. The most terrifying were the breast rings on her chest and the restraints on her hidden parts. The breast rings were also tightening. The thin golden rings that had passed through her nipples were merely hanging loosely, like an ambiguous adornment. Now, they were slowly tightening, the rings pressing against the pierced points of her nipples, squeezing the tender flesh, already engorged and erect from the reverse flow of spiritual energy, even more prominently. The weight of the bells pulled on the rings, causing the constricting rings to continuously rub against the inner walls of the piercings—each friction felt like someone gently toying with her fingertips, igniting a sharp sting, followed by an even more surging, body-weakening numbness after the pain. And the Immortal Binding Ring on her lower body—the thin golden ring that passed through the glans and the labia on both sides—was also tightening. The ring had originally fit snugly, as if tailor-made. Now, it felt as if it were being held by an invisible hand, slowly contracting. The body of the ring pressed against the base of her glans, pushing the already engorged pearl even further out, almost completely emerging from its hood. The parts passing through the labia were also contracting, pinching the two tender, pink lips slightly inward, pressing them tightly against the ring. The three spirit stones, pressed even closer by the tightening rings, pressed against three extremely sensitive points—the one on her glans was almost embedded in its hood, the one at the entrance of her vaginal canal pressed into the soft flesh wall, and the one at the jade gate tightly pressed against the small opening. "Ah… ah…" The divine sense, in this endless torment, crumbled inch by inch. Before her eyes, the setting sun spilled like molten gold, one moment a hazy mass of crimson mist, the next shattering into a sky full of fine light fragments, floating and sinking in her pupils. The sounds in her ears also lost their clarity – the clinking of shackles, the tinkling of bells, the soft moans escaping her throat, all blended together, sometimes drifting as if from beyond the heavens, sometimes exploding violently in the depths of her consciousness. She didn't know how much longer she could hold on. Perhaps in the next moment, she would lose consciousness completely. Perhaps in the next moment, the restraints would truly spiral out of control. Perhaps in the next moment, she would—die? When the word surfaced in her mind, it surprisingly carried a hint of relief. If she died, she wouldn't have to endure this torment anymore. If she died, she wouldn't have to wear these restraints, wouldn't have to kneel here, wouldn't have to be watched by Feng Jiuling in this state. But she didn't want to die. She had cultivated for hundreds of years, from an ordinary disciple of the Northern Cold Immortal Palace, step by step, to the late Nascent Soul stage, to the position of Palace Lord. She had experienced countless battles on the brink of life and death, and she was never one to give up easily. Yet at this moment, for the first time, she felt—living could be more agonizing than dying. Feng Jiuling had not spoken a word the entire time. She simply sat on the edge of the bed, one leg crossed over the other, her bare feet dangling in the air, swaying leisurely. Her gaze fell upon Ji Yaoshuang, observing her slowly, gently, as if looking at a piece of clothing she had once worn, as if tracing a path she had once walked. She remembered it all. She remembered it very clearly. Back then, after Ye Fan had planted the restraints on her, she had also desperately mobilized her spiritual energy, trying to break free, and had also experienced the exact same punishment. She had also knelt on the ground, drenched in sweat, her honeyed fluids seeping out and pooling on the floor. She had also been pushed to the peak and dragged back countless times, torn apart repeatedly, driven to the brink of disintegration by that kind of torment worse than death. She remembered her feelings at the time—shame, anger, unwillingness, and a hatred that bit into her bones. She also remembered the vow she had made: once she escaped, she would tear that man into a thousand pieces. But what happened later? She didn't escape, the restraints weren't removed, and Ye Fan wasn't torn into a thousand pieces. Instead, she grew more and more accustomed to these restraints. The clinking of the shackles no longer made her feel ashamed; instead, it made her feel secure—the sound reminded her that she belonged to someone. The vibration of the bells no longer embarrassed her; instead, it made her feel comfortable. The sensation of the chastity lock pressing against her intimate flesh no longer made her resist; instead, it made her feel… wanting more. She became increasingly greedy for these restraints. Especially when dual cultivating with Ye Fan. When all the restraints activated simultaneously, when the spirit stones on the chastity lock vibrated at an almost frenzied frequency, when Ye Fan's profound yin energy, laced with coldness, surged into the depths of her dantian—in that instant, something in her bones completely shattered. A pleasure so intense it drowned out reason surged from within, making her tremble all over, making her forget who she was, forget all her past identities and pride, and remember only one simple truth— She was his. She liked it, she liked it very much. But these words, she would never utter them. So, as she watched Ji Yaoshuang before her, her heart was not as indifferent as it appeared on the surface. But she wouldn't show it. Not now, at least. Ji Yaoshuang's breathing grew increasingly rapid. Her body trembled violently, from her shoulders to her waist, from her thighs to her toes, every muscle contracting uncontrollably. Sweat dripped incessantly from her scattered long hair, and the small puddle on the ground had expanded, making it impossible to distinguish whether it was sweat or the honeyed fluids seeping from the gaps of the chastity lock. Her consciousness was clearly on the verge of collapse. Her hands, which had been supporting her on the ground, had clenched into fists, her fingernails digging deeply into her palms, leaving several crescent-shaped blood marks. She tried to use the pain to maintain her clarity, but even the pain was no longer effective. The stimulation from the restraints was too intense, too strong to be overcome by anything else. But her cultivation was supporting her. Late Nascent Soul. Hundreds of years of arduous cultivation, countless breakthroughs and epiphanies, had tempered her divine sense to be far more resilient than that of cultivators at the same stage. It was this resilience that allowed her to endure the punishment of the restraints for so long. One cup of tea, two cups of tea, three cups of tea. The clitoris—the most sensitive spot on a woman's body, with no equal. The instant the golden needle pierced through, the pain was as sharp as a lightning bolt striking down, a burning tear ripping open from that rice-sized nub of flesh, instantly engulfing her entire being. Zi Ling trembled uncontrollably, the golden chains on her ankles clanking loudly with her violent struggles. Tears welled up and streamed down her cheeks, falling in large drops. Ye Fan's hands did not stop, his movements swift and precise. As soon as the golden needle passed through, the first ring of the Immortal-Binding Lock was immediately fastened into the pierced spot. But this was far from over—the second ring pierced through the right labia, and the third ring pierced through the left labia. The agony of being pierced in three places converged, almost causing Zi Ling to faint. The small bells jingled incessantly with her body's violent spasms. And the moment the Immortal-Binding Lock was fully secured, a vast and mighty spiritual power surged from the lock, rushing directly into her Dantian! "Ahhhhhh—!" Zi Ling threw her head back, a soft moan escaping her throat that she could no longer suppress. The spiritual power delved deep into her Dantian, touching the sealed lustful poison—and exploded. The purple spirit stone pulsed madly, all three spirit stones vibrating in unison—the one on her clitoris had almost embedded itself into the tender folds, causing that tiny red tip to swell and become engorged like a ripe berry; the one at the entrance of her vaginal canal pressed tightly against the soft flesh, causing the inner walls to contract repeatedly, and honey-like fluid to surge out like a breached dam. What drove Zi Ling to further despair was that the lustful poison, which had just been sealed, was now being reactivated by the spiritual power of the Immortal-Binding Lock. Not unsealed, but rather, the two forces clashed fiercely within her Dantian, neither able to overpower the other. The aftershocks of the collision transformed into small, yet potent, surges that coursed through her meridians, driving her almost to madness. And accompanying that heat was a more terrifying, bone-deep numbness. She gasped for air, her eyes unfocused as she stared at the stone chamber's ceiling, broken, hoarse moans escaping her lips. The stone beneath her was already soaked with the honeyed fluid that had gushed from her private parts—clear, viscous liquid slowly trickled down the inner thighs, pooling into a small puddle on the stone floor. Only now did she finally understand what she had agreed to. "How does it feel?" Ye Fan's voice came from above. Zi Ling opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but only a hoarse, tearful gasp escaped her throat. She truly didn't know how to describe the feeling at that moment—there was pain, there was numbness, there was fullness, tingling, burning, emptiness, satisfaction, a thousand sensations surging together, jumbled, indistinguishable, yet each one was as clear as a carving in her bones. Especially the bead in her rear... with every involuntary contraction of her anus during her body's spasms, the bead would turn slightly, the intricate iris pattern gently scraping against the tender flesh of her intestinal walls, like someone lightly tickling her from within, both distending and tingling, so tingly she almost wanted to reach in and pull it out, yet she couldn't help but clench tighter. Ye Fan handed her something—a neatly folded purple gauze skirt, the fabric light and soft, with a faint, fluctuating spiritual light shimmering on its surface. "This was originally refined for... someone else," Ye Fan's tone remained indifferent, "but this color suits you well enough." Zi Ling took the gauze skirt with trembling hands. The moment her fingertips touched the fabric, a warm, gentle spiritual energy seeped out from the gauze, flowing into her meridians through her fingers. Without time to think, she hastily unfolded the skirt and draped it over herself. The instant the skirt touched her body, a faint golden light flashed, and the garment automatically adhered to her, subtly conforming to her figure. The hem fell to mid-calf, perfectly revealing the pair of golden shackles on her ankles. The fabric at the chest fit snugly around her full breasts, yet the material was very thin, subtly revealing the contours beneath—the small bells hanging below the lock swayed gently with her breathing, casting two faint golden halos beneath the gauze. The golden waist chain outside the gauze skirt emitted a faint glow, and the two dangling chains were clearly discernible beneath the thin fabric. Ye Fan glanced at her. This purple gauze spirit garment was originally prepared for Ji Yao Shuang, but seeing it on Zi Ling, it fit just as well—their builds were similar, only Zi Ling was slightly plumper than Ji Yao Shuang, causing the skirt to be a bit tighter around her chest, accentuating the contours of her breasts even more. Zi Ling stood in the center of the stone chamber, looking down at the faintly visible restrictions on her body, then secretly raised her eyes to steal a glance at Ye Fan, her gaze meeting his calm, water-like eyes. She quickly lowered her eyelids, her earlobes burning again. "Let's go." Ye Fan raised his hand and removed the isolation formations around them, allowing the faint mountain light to filter in again from the cave entrance. Zi Ling followed behind him, her bare jade feet treading on the rough mountain stones. With every step, the shackles clinked, and the bead in her rear also rotated subtly with her gait; the spirit stone embedded in the purple iris flower at her front pulsed incessantly, pressing tightly against the clitoris that had not yet fully recovered from the aftershocks of the recent climax. She walked with her head bowed, her face so red it looked like it could bleed. Ye Fan did not look back, but he could hear the woman's cautious footsteps behind him, accompanied by the tinkling sound of her bare feet. She walked very slowly, even slower than when they arrived—the short chain of the shackles restricted her stride, allowing her to take only a foot and two inches with each step. He suddenly remembered how Su Qian Xue had followed him in small steps, head bowed, tinkling all the way, when she first wore shackles. Zi Ling, of course, did not know what Ye Fan was thinking. She could only endure the layered strangeness within her body, following closely behind the green figure in front of her, step by step. "Zi Yue, your sister is here..." The vile words, like a thousand fine embroidery needles, dense and numerous, pierced Su Qianxue's ears. She shook her head desperately, trying to cast the sounds away, but they were insidious, penetrating every crevice, each word and sentence seared clearly into her mind. Her entire body burned as if on fire, the shame almost enough to incinerate her on the spot. The black-robed monks didn't leave her much room for shame. The two of them efficiently dragged her to the front of the wooden stocks. They pulled her arms apart, one on each side, forcing her wrists into the iron locks on the left and right of the stocks. With two crisp clicks, the wrist cuffs clamped down tightly on her wrists. The inner side of the iron locks was lined with a thin layer of restrictive runes. The moment they closed, the runes lit up with a faint, eerie blue glow. An invisible pressure surged from her wrists into her meridians, completely sealing off the little spiritual energy she had left. The neck cuff followed closely. One monk grabbed her long hair from behind and yanked it back forcefully, forcing her head up to expose her slender neck. The neck cuff was shaped like a semicircular iron ring, also carved with restrictive patterns on the inside. With a dull click, it snapped shut, firmly locking her delicate throat onto the wooden stocks. The iron ring was snug, not enough to make her gasp for air, but every time she swallowed, she felt the cold, hard metal band pressing against her throat. Even the slightest turn of her head became an impossible luxury. Then, someone grabbed her feet. The black-robed monks crouched down, each taking hold of one of her ankles. Su Qianxue kicked desperately, her bare soles striking one monk's face, her toes digging into his eye socket. The monk cried out in pain and slapped her on the side of her buttocks in return. The crisp sound, mixed with a muffled groan from her throat, was particularly jarring on the stone platform. "Behave yourself!" The monk lost all patience. His fingers spread open like iron pincers, gripping her left ankle tightly. Without further ado, he pressed it into the ankle cuff on the lower left side of the stocks. With a sharp click, her left ankle was securely locked. He then repeated the process, locking her right ankle into the cuff on the lower right side. The two ankle cuffs were connected to the stocks by only a few inches of chain, forcibly splitting her legs apart to a startling width. While not a full split like a шпагат, it was enough to leave the private area between her legs completely exposed, directly facing the dense crowd below, with nowhere to hide. Su Qianxue's feet were forced into a tiptoe stance, barely touching the ground. The stocks were positioned at just the right height, forcing her to stand on her tiptoes to reach the ground, her heels suspended. Her entire weight rested on her toes and wrists. Her arms were pulled to their limits on either side, stretched taut, her shoulder blades pulled back, forcing her to arch her chest, pushing her full breasts higher and more prominent. Her feet were locked apart, her legs forced wide open, her flower valley exposed for all to see. Yet, she couldn't bend over. The neck cuff on the stocks held her head high, leaving no room to even look down at her own body. She was pinned in a shocking, outstretched "big character" shape, every inch of her skin exposed. A black-robed monk took an object from a tray and approached her. It was a copper ball attached to a thin chain, about the size of a pigeon's egg. The surface of the copper ball was covered in intricate restrictive runes. The monk grasped Su Qianxue's chin, forcing her mouth open. Su Qianxue clenched her teeth tightly and shook her head desperately, but the monk's fingers, like iron pincers, clamped onto her jaw joints. With a slight exertion of force, he pried her teeth apart. The copper ball was shoved into her mouth, wedging itself precisely between her teeth and her tongue, forcing her mouth open to its maximum extent. She couldn't close it, couldn't shut it, and even swallowing her own saliva became an impossible luxury. "Mmmph—!" A muffled, hoarse cry escaped Su Qianxue's throat, trapped between her lips and teeth, unable to get out. The copper ball stretched her mouth painfully, forcing her crimson lips into an extremely humiliating "O" shape. Her tongue was pressed down heavily by the weighty copper ball, her tongue tip only able to tremble uselessly at the bottom of the ball. The runes on the copper ball, upon contact with her tongue, sent a faint current into the root of her tongue. It wasn't pain, but a strange sensation that made her tongue root numb and tingly, as if countless tiny insects were crawling slowly on her tongue. She tried desperately to spit out the copper ball, but it was already securely fastened to the neck cuff by the thin chain. No matter how she shook her head or struggled, it remained stubbornly in her mouth, not loosening at all. All that escaped was a string of sticky, unintelligible muffled sounds. "Mmmph… mmmph… mmmph…" The onlookers below burst into laughter. "Hahahaha, listen to her! Sounds like a pig!" "Don't waste your energy, save your voice. You'll be screaming plenty later!" Tears streamed down Su Qianxue's cheeks, flowing into the corners of her mouth. Blocked by the copper ball, they could only seep out from the edges, mixing with saliva and dripping onto her collarbone. Another black-robed monk stepped forward, holding a magical artifact shaped like a long staff. The staff was about three feet long, entirely black, and also covered in restrictive runes. The head of the staff was not flat; it was carved into a slightly bulging sphere. The surface of the sphere was not smooth, but etched with concentric grooves, alternating in depth, reflecting a cold glint under the dim light of the night-shining pearls. The staff was firmly secured in a groove on the stone platform, pointing vertically upwards, its base embedded deep in the groove, making the staff perpendicular to the ground, unmoving. Su Qianxue couldn't see behind her. She could only sense from the sudden hush of the crowd below and their excited whispers that something extremely unbearable was about to happen to her. The black-robed monk circled behind her and crouched down. Su Qianxue trembled all over as she felt a cool finger press lightly against the entrance of her rear, with a hint of casualness, gently pressing on the folds that were contracting violently from tension. "Mmm—!" Her whole body jolted, and a sharp scream escaped her throat, muffled by the copper ball. She clenched her buttocks tightly, desperately trying to evade the finger, but she was locked securely in the stocks, her legs spread and fixed by the ankle cuffs, her buttocks with nowhere to hide. The finger, coated in a cool lubricant, slowly traced two circles on the folds of her rear before effortlessly entering one knuckle. It stirred for a moment, then withdrew, accompanied by a sticky squelching sound. "So tight," the black-robed monk chuckled, showing his greased finger to the crowd below. "Prime virgin." The laughter and lewd remarks from below surged like a tide. Su Qianxue closed her eyes. She didn't dare to look—didn't dare to look at the hundreds of greedy, schadenfreude-filled, lustful faces below, didn't dare to look at the men's undisguised gazes as they stared at her naked body, didn't dare to look at the women whispering behind their hands. But closing her eyes was useless—she could hear. She could hear every word, hear the obscenities that made her want to smash her head against a wall. The black-robed monk aimed the tip of the black staff at her rear—the slightly bulging, grooved spherical tip pressed directly against the entrance of her rear. "Mmmph… mmmph mmmph—!" Su Qianxue let out a series of muffled, sharp whimpers, her body thrashing wildly against the stocks. The shackles clanged noisily as she struggled. But she was locked too tightly. The neck cuff locked her neck, the waist cuff locked her waist, the wrist cuffs locked her wrists, and the ankle cuffs locked her ankles—she was nailed to the stocks, with no room to struggle at all. She could feel the metal ball being pushed inch by inch into the entrance of her rear, the tip stretching those tender flesh folds, causing a throbbing pain that shot straight to her head, making her scalp tingle and her toes curl tightly, the veins on the tops of her feet bulging. "Mmm… mmmph mmmph…" Hua Zizai released her chin, turned and walked towards the mountain gate, his voice coldly thrown back. "The crime of betraying the sect shall be punished by the Nine Hells according to the rules of the Joyous Union Sect. Today's ascent is merely the first step. Guards—fit her with shackles." Two disciples in black veils stepped forward. One grabbed Liu Mengli's left arm, pulling her into a stumble. The other picked up a heavy black iron shackle from beside the steps and brought it down towards her head. The shackle was entirely iron-black, forged from an unknown material, its surface rough and cold. Inside, it was covered with dense patterns of restrictive formations. The shackle was rectangular, with a large hole in the middle and two smaller holes on each side, designed to secure the neck and wrists respectively. Liu Mengli struggled desperately, but her shoulders were held firmly by the two disciples, rendering her unable to move. The iron shackle, carrying a bone-chilling cold, snapped onto the back of her neck. Her neck was caught in the large central hole, the opening neither too large nor too small, perfectly fitting the sides of her throat. Then, her hands were threaded through the smaller holes on either side. A dull clang of metal echoed as the shackle closed, and the formation patterns on the edges of the side holes simultaneously lit up with a faint, ethereal blue glow. Her wrists were completely locked within the shackle's confines, her shoulders pulled into an almost extreme angle by the upward position of her arms. Her entire posture became extremely twisted and stiff due to the restraint of the heavy iron shackle. Liu Mengli felt a sharp pain in her shoulders, pulled by the iron shackle. Her wrists were tightly bound, the pressure spreading from her wrists to her shoulder blades, and then to the back of her neck. She was forced to maintain her arms in a half-raised position, unable to even lower them slightly. Immediately, a disciple produced a pair of heavy shackles and crouched down, locking her ankles separately. A chain less than two feet long connected the shackles, nearly half the length of the gold chain Ye Fan had given her. Several other long chains hung from the edges of the shackle, connecting to her neck, wrists, and ankles, stringing her together like a chained prisoner. Each chain dragged heavily on the ground, emitting a muffled clanking sound with her slightest tremor. This set of shackles and fetters was vastly different from the exquisite gold ornaments Ye Fan had bestowed upon her. The gold cuffs Ye Fan had given her, though they locked her wrists and ankles, were polished smooth and round, developing a warm, lustrous texture with prolonged wear. The collar, though it encircled her neck, never caused her any discomfort. But the iron shackle before her was rough, cold, and heavy, as if countless hands were grasping her simultaneously, tearing her in different directions. The edges of the shackle rubbed against her wrists and neck, causing a dull, continuous ache. The chains were long and heavy, and with every movement, it felt like dragging a massive boulder, making each step a struggle. Liu Mengli couldn't help but compare the current shackles with the restrictions Ye Fan had once imposed. What her young master had given her, though seemingly binding, was in fact a form of protection; though shackles, they ultimately signified a sense of belonging. But this present set was merely a cold instrument of punishment—designed for nothing else but to break a person's will. "Move." A black-veiled disciple pushed her from behind, forcing her to step onto the stone steps barefoot. Liu Mengli stumbled forward, the heavy iron chains dragging across the stone steps with a grating clatter. The chain of these shackles was less than two feet long, half the length of the one Ye Fan had given her, making even the smallest steps feel cramped. Her toes touched the rough stone surface, and she instinctively curled them slightly, her arches trembling from the excessive exertion. With every step, the chains clattered, like an inescapable curse, repeatedly reminding her of her current identity—no longer Elder Liu, but merely a prisoner. On both sides of the stone steps, disciples of the Joyous Union Sect stood in dense ranks, both male and female. Every few dozen steps, a "punishment point" was set up. These "punishment points" were merely slightly flattened clearings beside the steps. In the center of each clearing, there was either a large stone, a wooden post, or a rack, all designed to firmly secure and humiliate the condemned. At each punishment point, several enforcement disciples waited, holding various magical implements and whips, their impatience palpable. As Liu Mengli stepped onto the clearing of the first punishment point, a female enforcement disciple appeared before her. Without a word, she raised her hand and delivered a sharp slap, making Liu Mengli's ears ring and her cheek instantly swell. "Kneel." Before the cold command had even finished, the back of Liu Mengli's knee was viciously kicked. Before she could regain her balance, she was thrown onto the cold stone slabs, her knees hitting with a painful thud. The weight of the shackles prevented her from straightening her back, and with her hands locked in the shackle, she couldn't even support herself. She could only press her forehead against the rough stone surface, curling into a ball in a posture of extreme humiliation. "This is the consequence of betraying the sect." A male enforcement disciple slowly circled to her front, holding a long, slender black whip, no thicker than a little finger, but densely inscribed with dark runes along its length. He raised the whip, its whistling through the air sharp and piercing. The first lash landed precisely on her buttocks, which were raised high in her posture. "Crack—" A crisp crack echoed across the open space before the mountain gate, lingering long in the air. The linen skirt, already too short to cover her thighs, was violently flipped up by the whip, revealing her thin undergarment, soaked with cold sweat and clinging tightly to her skin. Liu Mengli's body trembled violently, her teeth biting down hard on her lower lip, suppressing the cry of pain that threatened to escape. However, the second lash followed closely, landing squarely on the peak of her buttocks, which were slightly tilted back from her kneeling position, its force even greater than before. The pain of the whip was bone-deep, yet it did not injure her muscles or bones, leaving only burning red marks—the force precisely calibrated to a point between life and death, where one could neither live nor die.