His fingers grazed the cold, smooth surface of the sarcophagus.

  A jolt, electric and exhilarating, shot up his arm.

  A grin, slow and predatory, spread across Xiaojin's face.

  Finally!

  He'd dreamt of this moment countless times, his hand always falling short, snatched away by the cruel whims of waking.

  But this time… this time was different.

  This time, the icy stone was real beneath his touch.

  This time, he would unravel the mystery that had haunted his slumber for centuries.

  This time, he would see what secrets lay hidden within.

  "Let's see what you're hiding," he murmured。

  He braced himself, placing both hands on the edge of the lid.

  He pushed.

  Nothing.

  The lid remained stubbornly immobile.

  Xiaojin blinked, a flicker of surprise crossing his features.

  He was the Invincible Demon Sovereign, for crying out loud!

  He could level a city with a flick of his wrist, shatter mountains with a single punch.

  And yet, this… this box was resisting him?

  Intrigue warred with annoyance.

  This wasn't just some dusty old relic.

  This was something… special.

  Something powerful.

  Something worth a little more effort.

  "Alright then," he grunted, channeling more of his demonic energy.

  The air around him crackled, charged with raw power.

  He pushed again, his muscles coiling, his power surging.

  This time, the lid shuddered.

  A low groan echoed through the palace, the sound of ancient stone protesting against the irresistible force.

  Slowly, agonizingly slowly, the lid began to slide open.

  A sliver of darkness appeared, promising untold secrets.

  Xiaojin leaned closer, his heart pounding with anticipation.

  He could almost taste the revelation, feel the weight of history on his fingertips.

  The gap widened, revealing more of the inky blackness within.

  Just a little further… just a little…

  Then, the ground beneath him trembled.

  The entire palace shook, the walls groaning as if about to collapse.

  The sarcophagus vibrated violently, the lid slamming shut with a resounding boom.

  Xiaojin stumbled back.

  He knew that feeling.

  He knew what was coming.

  "Damn it all," he cursed, his voice laced with frustration.

  "Not again..."

  The tremors intensified, the world around him distorting, fracturing, dissolving into a swirling vortex of colors.

  He reached out, grasping for something, anything, to hold onto, but there was nothing there.

  Just the echoing roar of a collapsing reality.

  "No…" he whispered, the word swallowed by the encroaching chaos.

  He could feel it now, the pull, the irresistible force dragging him back… back to…

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  "Wait!"

  He bolted upright on his bamboo chair.

  The familiar scent of incense and mountain air filled his nostrils, grounding him.

  "Ugh, dream reset," he mumbled, running a hand through his unruly hair.

  A sliver of annoyance flickered within him, quickly extinguished.

  It's not like he hadn't experienced this a million times before.

  After five centuries of chillin' in this valley, you get used to having weird dreams and waking up repeatedly.

  He chuckled, a low rumble in his chest.

  "Well, that was a fun waste of time." It was just a game, after all.

  A ridiculously immersive, frustratingly vague game with stakes that were… well, currently unknown.

  He was the freaking Invincible Demon Sovereign, he got plenty of time.

  He swung his legs over the edge of the chair, the cool bamboo a welcome sensation against his skin.

  Time for tea.

  And then, maybe, just maybe, another nap.

  He smirked, a glint in his ancient eyes.

  He had a feeling this particular game wasn't finished with him yet.

  "Let's see what tomorrow brings…" He murmured.

  A ripple, barely perceptible, brushed against his extended consciousness, a disturbance in the carefully woven fabric of his valley’s protective barrier.

  Someone was approaching.

  His divine sense stretched outwards, painting a picture in his mind.

  A woman, breathtakingly beautiful, clad in white robes that flowed like liquid moonlight, was sprinting towards the valley, her movements frantic, desperate.

  Behind her, a glint of gold – a man in ornate armor, radiating an aura of smug self-satisfaction, pursued her with relentless speed.

  Intriguing, Xiaojin thought, his interest piqued.

  This smelled like trouble, the kind he usually avoided like the plague.

  But, there was a certain… entertainment value in observing unfolding chaos from a safe distance.

  Like watching a particularly chaotic ant farm.

  The woman, oblivious to the valley's invisible barrier, slammed into it with a resounding thwack.

  She crumpled to the ground, the breath knocked out of her.

  The golden-clad man caught up, a predatory grin splitting his face.

  "Bai Qian," he chuckled, the sound oily and unpleasant, "you finally fell into my hands."

  His eyes raked over her form, a blatant hunger in their depths.

  Xiaojin raised an eyebrow.

  Bai Qian?

  The name resonated, a faint echo in the dusty corridors of his memory.

  Wasn’t she the Crown Prince's betrothed?

  This was getting juicier by the second.

  He leaned forward, like a spectator at a particularly gruesome play, ready for the next act.

  Bai Qian, scrambling to her feet, glared at the man with righteous fury.

  "You dare!" she spat, her voice trembling with rage.

  "I am the Crown Prince's future wife! Harm me, and he will raze your entire clan to the ground!"

  She straightened, drawing on some hidden reserve of strength, her voice ringing with the steel of a woman backed by immense power.

  The man simply laughed, a dismissive wave of his hand.

  "Oh, I wouldn't dream of harming you, my dear Bai Qian," he purred, the words dripping with false sincerity.

  "I simply wish to… share in your exquisite cultivation. A little dual cultivation, if you will." He took a step closer, his gaze lingering on her, making her skin crawl.

  His aura, thick with something dark and predatory, pulsed outwards.

  Xiaojin winced.

  Dual cultivation?

  This guy was about as subtle as a rampaging rhino in a porcelain shop.

  He took another sip of his tea, the delicate floral notes now oddly juxtaposed with the unfolding drama.

  Bai Qian recoiled, disgust twisting her features.

  "You… you despicable cur!" she hissed, her voice laced with venomous contempt.

  "You think you can defile the Crown Prince’s betrothed and get away with it?"

  She summoned her spiritual energy, a faint glow beginning to emanate from her, but the man just smirked, his confidence unshaken.

  He reached out, a hand crackling with dark energy, reaching for her.

  "Now, now, my dear," he began, his voice a sickly sweet whisper, "there's no need for unpleasantness…"

  Bai Qian’s voice cracked like a whip, echoing through the valley.

  "You dare lay a finger on the Crown Prince's betrothed?! Do you have a death wish? He will obliterate your entire lineage, leaving nothing but ashes!"

  Her words, fueled by outrage and desperation, dripped with the threat of devastating retribution.

  She trembled, not with fear, but with a potent mix of fury and adrenaline.

  The man’s laughter, however, was devoid of any apprehension.

  He dismissed her threat with a condescending wave of his hand, a gesture dripping with arrogance.

  "Oh, sweet, naive Bai Qian," he sneered, his voice oozing with a mocking amusement that grated on her nerves like nails on a chalkboard.

  "Do you honestly believe the Crown Prince desires you for your… beauty? Please. He has a harem filled with beauties that would make a goddess weep. He wouldn't bat an eye at your… Chastity."

  His words hit Bai Qian like a physical blow, the air knocked out of her lungs.

  A cold dread seeped into her bones, chilling her to the core.

  The confidence that had been her shield, the unwavering belief in her status, crumbled like dust.

  He leaned closer, his breath hot against her ear, the words laced with a cruel, predatory glee.

  "Let’s be honest, shall we? He wants you for one thing, and one thing only: your Supreme Bone."

  Her eyes widened, a flicker of understanding – and terror – igniting within their depths.

  The Supreme Bone.

  A mythical, almost legendary bone structure, said to grant unimaginable power to its possessor.

  She had been born with it, a secret closely guarded by her family.

  How did he know?

  He shook his head, a slow, deliberate gesture that sent a shiver down her spine.

  "Oh, don’t worry your pretty little head. I have no need for your precious bone. That’s the Crown Prince’s prize, not mine." He paused, his gaze lingering on her with a disturbing intensity.

  "What I desire," he whispered, his voice taking on a husky quality, "is your cultivation. Centuries of diligently accumulated spiritual energy, ripe for the taking."

  A wave of nausea washed over Bai Qian.

  She understood now.

  He intended to use a forbidden technique, a perverse form of dual cultivation, to forcibly absorb her power.

  The thought was repulsive, a violation on every level.

  "I will… share in your exquisite essence," he continued, his words dripping with a sickeningly sweet undertone.

  "Don’t worry, I’ll make sure it’s… excruciatingly pleasurable." He reached out, his hand shimmering with a dark, malevolent energy, his fingers tracing the curve of her cheek.

  Bai Qian flinched, her body recoiling from his touch as if burned.

  She struggled, her limbs weak, her energy reserves depleted from her desperate flight.

  She tried to summon her spiritual power, but it was a feeble, flickering flame against the overwhelming darkness that emanated from him.

  He chuckled, a low, guttural sound that sent chills down her spine.

  "Struggle all you want, my dear," he purred.

  "It will only make it… more enjoyable." His grip tightened, his fingers digging into her flesh.

  "Prepare yourself, Bai Qian," he whispered, his voice a sinister caress against her ear.

  "Prepare to experience… bliss."