My rival climbed into my bed to ruin my cultivation—too bad I'm from the Acacia Sect.

Synopsis

My Nemesis Crawled Into My Bed to Ruin My Cultivation, but I'm Actually from the Joyful Union Sect

I am Su Yan. I cultivate the Way of Heartlessness — cold face, frozen heart. The whole world knows it.

My nemesis, Ling Shuang, found the one weakness of the Way of Heartlessness: feel something, and the art breaks.

So, to destroy my entire cultivation base, that woman climbed into my bed in the dead of night.

I panicked on the spot.

Not because I was afraid of losing my cultivation.

But because —

I am actually from the Joyful Union Sect!!!

One night passed.

My cultivation jumped six minor realms.

Ling Shuang watched the spiritual light spilling out of my body, and her pupils quaked.

I kept my face completely cold, while inside I was screaming:

Sister, could you — maybe — come back tomorrow night?

Chapter One

On the Tianxuan Continent, the cultivation world agrees on two things.

First: Su Yan of the Way of Heartlessness is the coldest man of this generation.

Second: Ling Shuang of the Sword Sect is the person who most wants him dead.

My name is Su Yan.

"Cold face, frozen heart, all seven emotions severed" — I have kept that persona for six whole years.

Six years.

Do you know how I lived those six years?

My senior brother treated me to a whole roast lamb.

I said: "It tastes of nothing. I must decline."

Inner voice: Holy shit, it smells SO good, so good, so good!

A little girl on the street fell down and looked up at me with hopeful eyes.

I walked past with my face blank.

Inner voice: Wahhh, poor thing, I want to help her up so badly, but I'm a Heartlessness cultivator!

The most ridiculous one was the time that bastard Qin Zheng told me jokes in front of my face for a full stick of incense.

My expression did not move once.

Qin Zheng sighed with admiration: "Brother Su truly has a heart like bedrock. Joy and anger never reach your face. I am in awe."

I nodded.

Turned and went back to my room.

Closed the door.

Laughed until I rolled across the floor three times.

Nearly got a stitch in my side.

What could I do.

Who else could it be, when my real identity is the Joyful Union Sect?

The Joyful Union Sect.

As the name suggests.

Exactly what you think it means.

The foremost of the three unorthodox sects of the cultivation world, entering the Dao through dual cultivation. For a thousand years, every righteous sect has wanted to grind our bones and scatter the ashes.

My master is Hua Manlou, thirty-seventh Sect Lord of the Joyful Union Sect.

An old man past fifty who still pats spirit grease onto his face every day.

Six years ago, he kicked me down the mountain. His exact words:

"A-Yan, your master is sending you in undercover, buried in the heart of the Righteous Path. You have extraordinary talent. Find a suitable dual cultivation partner, and you can break through to the Fusion Realm."

"But Master —"

"Remember, your public identity is a rogue cultivator of the Way of Heartlessness. Its inheritance is already broken — no one can call you out. Off you go. Your master believes in you."

At that moment I wanted to ask one thing.

Master, the Way of Heartlessness requires severing the seven emotions and six desires.

My Joyful Union Sect requires building wide bonds of affection and entering the Dao through feeling.

Those two things are opposites!

But Hua Manlou had already kicked me down the mountain.

So for six years, I, Su Yan, have lived a split personality.

Outside: no desire, no feeling, cold as frost.

Inside: a true heir of the Joyful Union Sect, cultivation base stuck at a bottleneck for six years without moving.

The reason is simple.

The core of the Joyful Union Sect's cultivation technique is Essence Draining.

Put plainly — you need a partner.

But I was playing a Heartlessness cultivator!

Anyone who dared come within three feet of me got the look that said, one step closer and my sword shows no mercy.

Six years.

My cultivation base was steady as an old dog.

Not a hair moved.

Every month, Hua Manlou scolded me through a voice-transmission talisman: "You useless thing. Six years, and you haven't even held a girl's hand?"

Master, it isn't that I don't want to. It's that I can't!

The moment this persona cracks, the entire cultivation world will come to hunt me.

And so, carrying this half-dead identity, I scraped my way to this year's Tianxuan Dao Forum.

Every sect and school gathered in Tianhua City to debate the Dao and fight.

As the most famous young rogue cultivator in recent years, I was invited to the head table.

The moment I sat down, the hall went silent for three seconds.

Not out of awe.

But because —

Ling Shuang had arrived.

Ling Shuang, head disciple of the Sword Sect.

White robes whiter than snow, a three-foot sword at her waist, and two words written across her cold, beautiful face:

Murder.

She walked up to me and planted her scabbard on the floor with a thud. Her voice was cold enough to freeze water.

"Su Yan. Three years ago, in the Tianliang Secret Realm, you stole my Heavenly Dipper Sword Embryo."

"…"

"Two years ago, in the Southern Sea, you intercepted my Ice Soul Spirit Spring."

"…"

"Last year, at Myriad Beast Mountain, you released the sixth-grade demonic beast I had hunted for three months."

"…"

Her eyes were swords. She said, one word at a time: "This year, I want you. Blood for blood."

The hall erupted.

Qin Zheng whispered beside me: "Brother Su, she's serious this time."

I lifted my teacup without changing expression and blew on the steam.

Inner voice: I did not release that sixth-grade demonic beast. It ran off on its own! I was in the latrine!

But I could not explain.

The Way of Heartlessness, after all.

One extra word and I would look like I had feelings.

Ling Shuang stared at me for ten seconds.

I did not move.

She gave a cold snort and turned away.

Her white robes swirled, and the hem nearly whipped my face.

Qin Zheng let out a breath: "Brother Su, what composure. Facing Ling Shuang of the Sword Sect without a flicker on your face."

I took a sip of tea.

The cup trembled in my hand.

Because Ling Shuang had stood too close.

The clear sword intent on her, mixed with a faint scent of cold plum blossom, hit my nose — and in that instant, the Joyful Union Sect art inside me nearly started cycling on its own.

Bad.

To me, this woman was nothing less than a walking XP bundle.

But I could not touch her.

Touch her, and the act falls apart.

I drew a deep breath.

Steady.

Steady, Su Yan.

You are a Heartlessness cultivator.

You automatically ignore all beauty.

You are ice. You are iron. You are iron ice.

What I did not know was this —

That very night, Ling Shuang found a line in an old text.

"A cultivator of the Way of Heartlessness is built on severing the seven emotions. If forced to feel, or to lie skin against skin, the foundation of the art shatters on the spot, and the cultivation base is ruined."

Ling Shuang closed the book.

She smiled.

That smile was cold to the bone.

"Su Yan. You're finished."

Chapter Two

Day two of the Dao Forum.

I skipped the daytime matches.

By custom, my appearance was set for the core battles on day four.

So I stayed in the inn these two days.

Officially, in seclusion and meditation.

In reality —

I was secretly practicing.

Door and windows shut tight, I fished a book out from under my pillow.

The cover bore four neat characters: the Scripture of Pure Heart and Few Desires.

I opened it.

Inside: the Thirty-Six Forms of Heaven and Earth Union, the Joyful Union Sect's cultivation technique.

That's right. I had put a new cover on it.

Six years now, and every time I opened this book I felt like a schoolboy reading smut under the blankets in a dormitory.

Thrilling?

Thrilling.

Useful?

No.

Because reading the Joyful Union Sect's cultivation technique is useless on its own.

You have to practice it. For real.

I sighed, turned to the seventeenth form, "Dragon and Phoenix in Harmony," looked at it for two seconds, and quietly closed the book.

All the skill to slay a dragon, and not a single dragon to be found.

I stuffed the book back under the pillow and sat cross-legged.

The Joyful Union Sect's spiritual qi made one circuit through my meridians and returned to where it started, refusing to climb.

Stuck.

Stuck for six years.

Hua Manlou said I was at the ninth layer of Foundation Establishment, one kick away from breaking through to Golden Core.

But that kick required one high-quality round of dual cultivation to open the Ren and Du meridians.

Otherwise I would be stuck at Foundation Establishment for the rest of my life.

A Joyful Union Sect disciple stuck at Foundation Establishment — no one would believe it if I told them.

I was stewing in it when the voice-transmission talisman lit up.

Hua Manlou's voice drifted out: "A-Yan, I hear the Tianxuan Dao Forum has started?"

"Mm."

"So many female disciples from every sect in one hall, and you're not seizing the chance?"

"Master, I'm a Heartlessness cultivator."

"You are not."

"Outwardly I am."

Hua Manlou went quiet for a few seconds. "Do you know that Xiaodie, your junior sister three years younger than you, reached Golden Core last month?"

My hand clenched.

"She went to a brothel in the mortal world last month and broke through on the way back. Then look at you. Six years. Ninth layer of Foundation Establishment. Have you no shame?"

Shameful.

But what could I do?

If this persona cracked, the entire Righteous Path would come to chop me down.

"Fine. Handle it yourself. Your master is going to soak in a hot spring."

The talisman went dark.

I looked at the darkened talisman paper and slammed my fist into the bedboard.

Six years.

The thing I, Su Yan, regret most in this life is agreeing to be this undercover agent.

The night deepened.

I put out the lamp and lay down fully dressed.

The inn's bed was hard, and the book dug into my skull through the pillow.

I turned over and shut my eyes.

Then —

The window made a sound.

Very light, very fine, like a cat's paw plucking a string.

My eyes snapped open.

A white figure landed on the windowsill without a sound.

Moonlight fell across her face.

Ling Shuang.