These colored long silks, blotting out the sky and sun, shrouded half the void within their embrace. In an instant, the golden bell was swallowed up inside the colored silks.
A bewitching smile crept across Shi Qinglu's pretty face.
"Jiang Chen, now that you're trapped inside my Seven-Colored Long Silk Formation, it doesn't matter how powerful your divine abilities are — once you've entered, you're nothing but fish on a chopping board, at my mercy."
Shi Qinglu giggled, her eyes shimmering with an autumn-like allure as a natural seductive power emanated from her very being.
Jiang Chen's heart stirred, and he silently raised his guard.
This Poison Consort Shi Qinglu, it seemed, was not merely skilled with poisons — she had also cultivated a natural charm technique that was no trivial matter.
But did she think this trick would work on him?
Jiang Chen sneered inwardly. This Shi Qinglu was greatly underestimating his resolve.
Shi Qinglu's delicate body swayed gently, her multicolored garments dancing once more like the wings of a stunning butterfly.
The more beautiful something was, the more likely it carried poison.
At this very moment, Shi Qinglu was the perfect embodiment of that truth.
Jiang Chen's gaze remained calm and clear as a mountain spring, fixed steadily on Shi Qinglu. He wanted to see exactly what tricks she had up her sleeve.
Shi Qinglu giggled, and in an instant, multicolored mist began to curl upward from all around the Seven-Colored Long Silk Formation, filling the entire void within moments.
Jiang Chen extended his senses slightly and immediately recognized that these colorful mists were all highly toxic miasmas — some of the most notorious poisons under heaven.
When these toxic miasmas intertwined, they could fuse into various new poisons, creating layered, relentless attacks.
The poison from these miasmas might not kill instantly, but it could infiltrate a cultivator's body through countless channels — pores, orifices, skin, even hair — and potentially even divine sense could serve as a pathway for invasion.
By the time the victim realized what had happened, it would likely be too late.
Through the bizarre manifestations of her technique, Shi Qinglu's body seemed to constantly produce afterimages. In an instant, seven or eight copies of her appeared, dancing in place.
And the multicolored garments on her body seemed to grow fewer and fewer.
Before long, Shi Qinglu's graceful figure was only half-concealed.
At this moment, her eyes seemed as though they might drip with moisture, casting sidelong glances like ripples on an autumn pond.
In a scene like this, any man would have his blood racing.
Especially with the aura permeating the air, creating an atmosphere of profound mystery — not merely a sensory stimulation, but a siren call to the soul itself.
Jiang Chen's eyes were gently closed.
Then, abruptly, his eyes snapped open, a slight smile on his lips. "Miss Shi, your Hundred Sacred Grounds truly lives up to its name — a hundred blooming in unison, as they say. Though I do wonder... just how many hands has this thorny rose of yours passed through?"
What?
Shi Qinglu's expression turned cold in an instant. Passed through how many hands?
In such a setting, with such an atmosphere, this Jiang Chen had actually uttered something so utterly mood-destroying. It was like someone taking a pen and scribbling all over a pristine white cloth — there was simply no greater way to shatter the mood.
"You—" Shi Qinglu clenched her silver teeth, her phoenix eyes nearly spitting flames.