A while later, the satisfied daoist nun tossed the mummified Sang Qian aside. Her six blood-sucking mouthparts slowly retracted, turning back into tender and glistening red lips.

It could have been lipstick staining those lips red, but it could also have been blood.

The daoist nun licked her lips with an intoxicated expression. “The blood essence of a young man tastes oh so good! But something doesn’t seem quite right. Why does it feel as though he’s lacking some masculine energy? That shouldn’t be the case. He had such great libido, how could he be lacking…?”

She stood there in a daze for a while, confused about what happened. In the end, she still couldn’t puzzle it out. “Forget it. Finding Zu An is still the most important thing.”

She turned around and transformed into a flight of countless small mosquitoes. The black cloud vanished into the distance.

…

A short while later, Sang Qien’s...