Immortal Paladin

Jue Bu lounged back in his seat with the leisurely confidence of a man who had never once worried about consequences. Draped in a fine purple robe embroidered with delicate white orchids, he held a glass of spiced wine in one hand and a thick handful of spirit stones in the other. Below him, in the pit of the underground arena, two brawlers exchanged blows under a ring of cheering onlookers. The haze of smoke, sweat, and burning incense clung to the walls like a second skin.

He laughed as the fighter he wagered on slammed his opponent into the sand with a thunderous thud. ”Another win,” he said with a grin, flicking one more spirit stone into his ring with flair. The women besides him tittered, whispering among themselves about the handsome stranger in the flowered robes.

“Crimson Tiger in two exchanges,” he declared, barely glancing at the fighters being introduced. When his chosen warrior crushed the opponent’s ribs beneath a single sweeping kick, the onlookers gasped. Jue Bu simply lifted his wine cup, already bored with the outcome.

The house servants whispered behind their sleeves, but none dared to challenge his growing streak. He collected his winnings calmly, brushing a few heavy bags into his Storage Ring with the casualness of a man brushing crumbs from his sleeve. The courtiers nearby began whispering not just of his luck, but of danger… of someone who shouldn’t be winning so consistently.

That was when the guards arrived.

Two burly enforcers flanked his table. ”Sir, the boss would like a word.”

Jue Bu raised an eyebrow. ”Does she often extend invitations this politely?”

No answer came, but he stood anyway, adjusting the collar of his robe with a flourish. They led him past the blood-soaked sands and into the private chambers behind the curtain, where the roar of the crowd faded into soft flute music and the smell of burning lotus incense.

There, reclining against plush cushions was the boss herself: Lin Yuhan. She exuded power and poise, her form accentuated by a tight corset of midnight silk. Her long, sable hair draped over one shoulder, and her expression was unreadable, but her eyes lingered on him a second too long to be anything but curious.

“You’ve caused quite the ripple,” she said, her voice soft but edged with amusement. “Few walk into my establishment and walk away richer than when they entered.”

Jue Bu bowed slightly, the perfect image of a courteous rogue. “And few establishments leave a man wishing he’d wagered his heart rather than just his coin.”

Lin Yuhan arched an eyebrow, but a smile tugged at her lips. One word led to another… charm traded for curiosity, mischief for interest. Wine was poured, promises hinted at, and before long, words gave way to silence, and silence gave way to something closer.

Later, as the candlelight dimmed and shadows swirled across the silken walls, Jue Bu reclined on his side, one hand tracing idle patterns against Lin Yuhan’s shoulder. Her face was turned away from him, but her breath was slow, her posture relaxed. He smirked faintly, not out of conquest, but calculation.

There was always more to be gained. And in this world, affection, like gold, was a currency to be spent wisely.

They made love.

In other words, they fucked.

Lin Yuhan’s lips found the hollow of Jue Bu’s neck, then traveled upward to meet his mouth. Her fingers slipped lower, bold and searching. Heat pooled between them, thick and unspoken. Jue Bu responded in kind, his hands gripping her waist as he pushed her gently down beneath him. Their bodies met in a clash of skin and breath.

He had to give credit where it was due… Da Wei’s body was irritatingly attractive. Sculpted, warm, and maddeningly responsive. Jue Bu had always prided himself on detachment, but in this moment, he found himself ensnared by sensation.

Lin Yuhan shrugged off her robes with practiced ease, the silks whispering against her skin. She even found time to help him fumble out of his own clothes, her laughter soft and teasing. Then came the rhythm: the grind of hips, the shared groans and gasps, the unrelenting urgency of flesh upon flesh.

They moved as one… moaning, panting, touching with both desperation and affection. Between stolen breaths, words passed between them… low, wicked, and very intimate.

“Don’t stop… no matter what, don’t stop,” said Lin Yuhan. “Use that strength. Don’t hold back, Jue Bu.”

The morning light filtered through the paper screen, soft and golden, gently illuminating the tangled sheets and warm bodies within. Jue Bu sat at the edge of the bed, silently gazing at Lin Yuhan, the woman he had spent the entire night entwined with. Her breathing was calm, steady, and unburdened. She looked peaceful and utterly unaware of the monster she had held so close.

With deliberate care, he drew the blanket up to her shoulders, covering the bruises and love marks that marred her otherwise unblemished skin. She murmured something in her sleep and turned to her side, the edge of her lip curling slightly. Jue Bu watched her for a moment longer before sighing and rising to his feet. 

So what was the point of all of this?

Ever heard of Dual Cultivation?

In a true xianxia fashion, Dual Cultivation was far more than an exchange of pleasure. It was a symbiotic process of two cultivators harmonizing their energies through intimacy to mutually enhance their cultivation bases. When done correctly, it could purify the meridians, temper the spirit, and accelerate breakthroughs. But such an act required immense compatibility, balance, and trust. The ideal partner was called a Dao Companion… one whose Dao aligned with your own.

Anything less risked deviation, backlash, or, at worst, death.

Jue Bu had spent the last five years engaging in Dual Cultivation with various partners. He never found his Dao Companion… he hadn’t even bothered looking. The people of this world were too weak. Their foundations were fragile, and their spirits were unstable. A proper companion could have allowed him to cultivate with efficiency and elegance, but such luxuries were not afforded to squatters in a False Earth. He opted instead for volume, scattering his net across cities and sects, ever careful not to draw too much attention or accidentally end a life in bed.

Still, he was no amateur. Jue Bu had mastered the precise control of his energies, careful never to overwhelm. Disease, spirit backlash, and energy corruption were very real threats… but none of them ever claimed him. He always emerged stronger. And today was no different.

He stepped away from the bed, flexing his fingers and stretching his limbs. His bones didn’t creak… he was, after all, still fundamentally a skeleton beneath the facade of flesh… but the act remained habitual. His dantian pulsed with warmth. He had accumulated a generous volume of Yin Qi overnight. A grin formed across his face.

”Just a few more nights like that,” he muttered, ”and I can cast Reversal of Heaven and Earth without restraint.”

It was no ordinary art. Reversal of Heaven and Earth was an Immortal Art, an esoteric ability that allowed him to invert dualities… light and dark, hot and cold, male and female, even attributes as abstract as cause and effect, luck and misfortune. Few understood the cost it demanded, and even fewer survived its misuse. But Jue Bu had mastered it. And now, with the curse he had embedded deep into Da Wei’s soul, the art had found a new purpose.

He closed his eyes and sank into meditation, his spirit reaching inward. There it was… the curse, pulsing like a malignant star within Da Wei’s soulscape. It had grown stronger.

Over the years, Jue Bu had been feeding it and refining its activation condition to be nearly uncheatable. He had prepared for every contingency: soul displacement, possession immunity, even memory suppression. If the condition was met, it would not only suppress Da Wei’s will but forcibly eject his soul into the reincarnation cycle.

Jue Bu exhaled slowly. ”Let’s test the limits.”

He brought his palms together and invoked the technique.

”Immortal Art: Reversal of Heaven and Earth.”

Light shimmered around him as his frame shifted. His shoulders narrowed, his hips rounded. Hair spilled past her waist, dark and silky. Her skin softened, now humming with Yin energy so dense it nearly overflowed. The transformation was never perfect… There were always inconsistencies, like a voice that retained its calm rasp or a scent that betrayed her skeletal origin, but for her purpose, it sufficed.

She fed the excess Yin into the curse, focusing it like a funnel until the spell matrix surged. Her knees buckled slightly from the mental strain, and without hesitation, she undid the reversal, her masculine form snapping back into place.

”Hmm, the transition is getting smoother,” he muttered, rubbing his temple, ”I should continue my investigation of the False Earth… Old man, I wonder how you are doing out there?”

Jue Bu slipped into his clothes, a simple tunic and pants woven with hidden arrays, and stepped onto the roof. The sun greeted him with full force, too bright and too honest.

“Ah, shit—” he started, only to stop mid-step.

It wasn’t because that sunlight startled him…

Wen Yuhan stood opposite him on the roof tiles, arms crossed, eyes shadowed. But it wasn’t Wen Yuhan who glared at him.

It was Da Wei inside Wen Yuhan. And he was livid.

”Give me back my body, Jue Bu,” Da Wei said through clenched teeth.

Jue Bu’s face fell. ”How… How did you find me?”

Wen Yuhan’s, or rather Da Wei’s, lips twitched upward. ”I bestowed upon you the destiny to sleep with someone bearing the name ’Yuhan.’”

There was a beat. And then, realization dawned with the clarity of a lightning strike.

”You—Motherfucker…” Jue Bu whispered. ”Please… No.”

He staggered back, recalling the name of the woman he had just slept with. Lin Yuhan.

Wen Yuhan smirked. ”I spent a lot of quintessence doing it. But since it actually worked, I don’t mind spending more.”

Jue Bu protectively crossed his arms over his chest, scandalized. ”Are you insane?! That’s… disgusting!”

Da Wei didn’t even blink. ”I know! I know I’m insane! I know it’s disgusting! But if you don’t give me back my body, I swear, I will bestow upon you the destiny of lifelong impotence!”

”I’m already impotent!” Jue Bu shrieked. ”I’m a skeleton, remember?! The one you’ll curse is your body!”

Da Wei shrugged, cold and certain. ”I’m fine with that. I’ll just live like a monk for the rest of my life.”

”That’s too much!”

Without another word, Jue Bu turned and bolted across the roof, his lightstep technique activating in full. He leapt from tile to tile, robes flapping in the wind.

”Get back here, you lecherous bag of bones!” Da Wei shouted.

Jue Bu soared above the rooftops, a trail of violet light winding in his wake as his Heavenly Art unfolded across the sky. Reversal of Heaven and Earth, when applied to the concept of weight, rendered flight a mundane function, as natural as walking on the ground. Wind coursed around him as he shot across the highlands like a ribbon of shadow, chased by a thunderbolt of gold.

Da Wei was close.

Zealot’s Stride. Jue Bu recognized the rhythm of it, the gleaming tempo between each step suspended in midair. He didn’t need to turn to confirm it. He had lived that technique… read it backward and forward a thousand times from memory, and parsed every spiritual imprint Da Wei had ever left behind. He may not have been able to use Da Wei’s skills to the level Da Wei did, but he had reviewed the man’s past like a playbook. And because of that, he knew exactly what to say.

Jue Bu halted midair. His qi vibrated like taut wire. Behind him, Da Wei landed on a platform of golden light, his ‘feminine vessel’ glowing with righteous fury. Yet the petite frame he wore now, with flushed cheeks and windswept hair, made him look…

”...Rather cute,” Jue Bu muttered to himself. ”Uuh… No! Focus, Jue Bu!”

He spun around and faced his pursuer. With arms wide and eyes calm, he said, “I will reveal the location of Earth if you don’t leave me alone.”

Da Wei froze. His body tensed, and for a moment, uncertainty flickered through his face.

Jue Bu narrowed his gaze, voice low and unhurried. “I know everything about you. I know that you knew I would take this body five years ago. I know that’s why you chose that poor little girl, Wen Yuhan, to be your fallback vessel. I also know there’s something wrong with Da Ji… your little sister, isn’t she?”

Da Wei’s reply came sharp. “You’re buying time.”

Jue Bu smiled. “Indeed, I am buying time.”

“Give it up, and I won’t smite you.” Da Wei’s voice rang with divine clarity, his golden eyes pulsing. “I wield the Destiny Seeking Eyes. I can see every move you plan to make. This is your end, Jue Bu. Don’t make it difficult for yourself.”

Jue Bu’s grin widened. “Don’t you know? Just as you can use the abilities of your current vessel, I can do the same.”

Da Wei’s pupils dilated. His gaze glazed over briefly, likely connecting a thousand threads through the Destiny Seeking Eyes. He must’ve seen the trap and seen the spiraling chain of consequences.

But it was already too late.

Jue Bu activated his art again… Reversal of Heaven and Earth. This time, he inverted the property of supernatural as natural into supernatural as natural. The qi of the world vanished like smoke in a vacuum. Every leyline went silent. The heavens ceased responding to their calls. Even gravity, now no longer stabilized by their techniques, reclaimed its authority.

Both of them plummeted.

Da Wei’s Immortal Art unraveled in real time, his thoughts jarred mid-projection. He flared his aura, likely attempting to switch tactics… probably to a more grounded form of combat: martial arts, body tempering.

Jue Bu welcomed it. He had prepared for this possibility, just as he had for every other one.

Back when he escaped New Willow, he’d fought a Grand Exorcist, an arrogant cultivator of purity and ritual. That man had nearly purged Jue Bu’s soul. To survive, Jue Bu used Divine Possession at the cost of severe spiritual backlash. But it was worth it. From that desperate theft, he gleaned techniques lost to this world… arts for cleansing, binding, and banishing.

Qi flooded back into the atmosphere as he deactivated his Immortal Art. With the rush of energy, he pointed at Da Wei with his index finger. The air rippled like a drawn bowstring.

Da Wei became a blur of gold. He dodged before the spell had even coalesced. In the next heartbeat, pain burst in Jue Bu’s chest. Blood spilled from his lips as Da Wei reappeared behind him, wreathed in golden fire.

His hand pressed against his ribs. It was cracked, but not fatal.

Da Wei had reached the Soul Recognition Realm. The gap in raw strength was undeniable.

But Jue Bu never relied on raw strength.

“I fixed this body,” Jue Bu said, each word strained but certain. “I healed its lifespan. I cultivated it my way. And now you want to take it back?” He locked eyes with Da Wei. “This isn’t even your body anymore. It’s mine!”

Da Wei didn’t flinch. “Yeah,” he replied. “But I don’t care what you think.” He lifted a glowing hand. “Divine Possession.”

Jue Bu’s grin returned, wider than ever. “You really think I didn’t plan for this?”

He had studied Divine Possession obsessively. It wasn’t just a soul transference technique… it was a ritual. Full of loopholes, thresholds, and spiritual geometry. And he had mastered every crooked angle of it. When he stepped into the Spirit Mystery realm, he unlocked a power that let him touch the intangible… soulstuff, causality, time’s residue.

”Did you really think you were prepared to face me?”

He reached out.

”Did you really think you’d accounted for all the right possibilities?”

His hand grabbed Da Wei’s soul by the throat.

“You don’t even belong in this world,” Jue Bu murmured. “You’re a drifter, a tourist! You’ve overstayed your welcome.”

Da Wei struggled, eyes wide. “What are you doing?”

Jue Bu’s fingers tightened. “I’m going to send you to the Greater Universe. Good luck not getting eaten by space whales.”

Da Wei’s expression broke into frantic fury.

“But not the Hollowed World,” Jue Bu added with a cold chuckle. “No. You’d like that. I could have done it, but I’d rather not.”

Golden chains of exorcistic script spiraled around Jue Bu’s arms. The symbols were foreign to this realm. It was acquired from the Grand Exorcist’s memories via Divine Possession and had been reforged through Reversal of Heaven and Earth. The ‘Exorcise’ spell Jue Bu was about to cast had once been Da Wei’s own technique. Jue Bu had simply stolen it, inverted it, and now wielded it as his own.

“Exorcise,” he whispered.

The world shook.

Da Wei’s soul blurred at the edges, pulled by a formless gate that yawned open behind him… ink-black and infinite.

And for the first time, Jue Bu didn’t speak with scorn, but with a soft, almost brotherly tone.

“I saw your memories, David. I lived them. Earth. Your students. Your stories. The manga, the games… the life of teaching. That’s where you belong.”

Da Wei’s face contorted, rage bleeding into despair.

“So go home.”

And with that, Jue Bu, the scoundrel in purple, exorcised his frenemy.

The wind carried away the last of Da Wei’s golden light, scattering it like stardust into the void.

Jue Bu stood alone in the sky, exhaling a long, weary breath.

“I’ll hold the line here,” he muttered. “You just… be a good teacher, alright?”

And then he turned away, already preparing for the next storm.