Chapter 2232: Hanging Clothes

Bathed in starlight, Ye Chen stepped onto Yu Nu Peak.

Under the moonlight, he gently closed his eyes, savoring the spiritual energy on the peak—cool and warm at once. This sensation was absent in the thousand-year-old Da Chu; only the real Yu Nu Peak felt truly intimate. His weathered heart was enveloped in waves of warmth, like an elderly person returning to their roots among fallen leaves.

All the women were already asleep, and he arrived without a sound, disturbing no one.

The restless Ye Chen stroked his chin.

"What should I do?"

Soon, he pulled out a small bamboo tube, resembling a flute or a xiao. He wiped it with his sleeve and then stuffed some powdered substance inside.

Sneakily, he approached the window of Chu Xuan's boudoir.

Pop!

With a faint sound, he used the bamboo tube to poke a small hole through the window paper.

Then, Ye Chen began his masterful performance of blowing the xiao. Strands of purple mist were blown into Chu Xuan's room. The mist was colored but odorless, carrying a faint, subtle fragrance.

He repeated this process for each one.

From left to right, he visited every woman's boudoir, performing the same act—blowing the purple mist inside with the small bamboo tube.

It was clear from his grin that he looked utterly sneaky, like a thief.

Ming Di and Di Huang were witnesses to this thievery. With their supreme vision, how could they not recognize that the purple mist was Mi Xiang, known in the cultivation world as a bewitching incense?

Using Mi Xiang on his wives—even these two supreme beings had to admire Ye Chen's audacious nature.

Squeak!

On Yu Nu Peak, Ye Chen pushed open the door to Chu Xuan's room, striding in boldly rather than sneaking. Normally, entering like this would get him beaten.

Unfortunately, Chu Xuan was already knocked out by the incense, sound asleep and oblivious.

No joke—the Mi Xiang was specially prepared by Dan Sheng. Even a great saint would collapse from a whiff. Over the years, he hadn't dared to use it, as the materials for refining such high-grade incense were as rare as those for forging an eight-pattern Ba Wen Dan pill.

That's why he was called Dan Sheng—pure audacity. Using materials meant for Ba Wen Dan to create bewitching mist, and all just to daze his own wives. How wasteful could one get?

Now, looking at the scene in the room, it was downright seductive.

The shameless Ye Chen had already climbed onto the bed, rubbing his hands as he began undressing Chu Xuan.

This sight instantly energized Ming Di, his dazzling emperor eyes gleaming brightly.

See? Late at night always brings surprises.

But just as Ming Di was settling in to enjoy the show, the tantalizing scene suddenly switched to a peaceful landscape painting.

That's right—Di Huang had changed the view for him, then glanced sideways at Ming Di.

That look seemed to say: This Ye Emperor has no shame, does he?

Ming Di took a deep breath, black lines crisscrossing his forehead, but he held back his urge to explode. Every time something good happened, this guy ruined it—and often left him getting scolded too.

"This emperor is going into seclusion."

Ming Di grumbled and stormed off in a huff.

As soon as he left, Di Huang quickly followed. Saying it's seclusion? No one would believe that. He probably wants to sneak off and peep somewhere else. Not a chance—your habits are all too clear to me.

Seeing Di Huang tailing him, Ming Di's face turned pitch black.

In that moment, he felt an overwhelming impulse to kick Di Huang back to the heavens. With this guy watching him every day, how many steamy scenes had he missed?

Even emperors are human, with desires and emotions. Is this constant meddling appropriate?

Appropriate!

That would be Di Huang's blunt response.

And so, as Ming Di walked, his pace quickened to a jog, and soon he was sprinting, then soaring through the air at full speed.

Di Huang wasn't far behind, sticking to him like glue, shadowing every move. Whether it's seclusion or something else, I'll be right there beside you.

Well then! The two supreme beings of the underworld were now racing each other.

What a pair of fools!

From the heavens, the Dao Ancestor glanced down at the underworld, his expression full of solemn resignation.

While the underworld was lively, Yu Nu Peak wasn't quiet either.

The clever Ye Chen had already stripped Chu Xuan bare.

But that's all he did—he admired the sight of her form, then took a few intimate portraits of her.

Only after that did he cover her with the blanket.

But he wasn't done yet. After undressing Chu Xuan, he took her storage bag, then emptied her wardrobe, taking every piece of clothing without exception.

Only then did Ye Chen leave the room and head to Chu Ling's boudoir.

The scene in that room was just as seductive. He did for Chu Ling exactly what he'd done for Chu Xuan.

When Ye Chen emerged again, he was carrying a pile of clothes—all Chu Ling's.

Bang! Clang! Thud!

In the quiet night, the sounds of rummaging through boxes and cabinets echoed endlessly, like a bandit raiding the place.

That was Ye Chen. Every time he entered a room, those noises followed, and each time he left, he was hugging a bundle of clothes, proudly calling them his spoils.

In short, he took all the women's clothes—whether they were wearing them, stored in their bags, or in their wardrobes.

Just imagine the scene at daybreak, when they'd wake up with nothing to wear. How entertaining that would be.

This was the tenth emperor of Da Chu, driven by sheer curiosity, even going to such lengths for a spectacle.

Later, every tree on Yu Nu Peak was draped with fairy garments—red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, purple, in all colors. They were all the women's clothes, hung up by Ye Chen.

For this, he even came up with a perfectly reasonable excuse: I'm just hanging your clothes out to dry.

Impressive!

In the underworld, Ming Di and Di Huang's chase finally halted. Seeing the scene on Yu Nu Peak, not just Ming Di, but even Di Huang couldn't help but twitch their mouths.

At that moment, Ye Chen tied on an apron and stepped into the kitchen. The counter was piled high with ingredients for cooking.

Nonsense aside, meals still needed to be prepared. Every time he returned from outside, he did the same. Immortals no longer required food, but the process was wonderfully enjoyable—an unexpected way to sense the human dao, the ordinary path, which was most precious.

His temperament made even Ming Di and Di Huang sigh in admiration. When unprincipled, he had no bottom line, but when serious, he became an entirely different person—like that day facing the female Sheng Ti, his decisiveness in battle was unmatched. Not just the female Sheng Ti, but even they hadn't reacted in time.

"Provoking the female Sheng Ti will have unimaginable consequences."

The black lines on Ming Di's forehead finally faded, replaced by a furrow of worry.

Di Huang said nothing, his expression equally grave with concern. He'd seen too many cases where love turned to hate. A great cycle of the Tian Zhao had burned not only the female Sheng Ti's emotions but also the hopes of the heavens. On this matter, this junior of the Sheng Ti lineage had indeed acted too rashly.

Ye Chen, unaware of the supreme beings' worries, was diligently preparing the meal.

The one involved is blind, while onlookers see clearly.

Wise as he was, even Ye Chen had oversights. His ruthlessness had completely pushed that female Sheng Ti, who was infinitely close to great accomplishment, to the opposing side. In the future, the heavens would have to guard not only against the Hong Huang but also against her and the Zhu Xian Jian. In a certain sense, the female Sheng Ti and Zhu Xian Jian would be even more terrifying than the Hong Huang clans.

Time passed, and dawn was approaching.

The first hint of morning light from the east was warmly comforting, casting a glow on Ye Chen's face.

Suddenly, his mind wavered for a moment.

In a haze, he seemed to see a face—twisted and hideous, sinister and grotesque, grinning maliciously at him with terrifying demonic power. Even with his strong will, he found it hard to resist.

The knife in his hand veered off course due to this daze, slicing his finger.

Perhaps no one noticed, but for a split second, a dark demonic mark appeared on his forehead—the kind belonging to Tian Mo. But it only manifested for a third of an instant before vanishing.

"Why is my head acting up again?"

Ye Chen rubbed his forehead and continued chopping vegetables.