Flying Phoenix and Spirit Snake

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Chapter One: The Strange Youth
Beneath the lush, verdant mountains, a clear stream meandered, nestled against the mountainside, facing the water, lay a small village. The moon hung high; it was late at night. Yet, a light flickered from a solitary hut on the edge of the village. Why was the owner still awake so late?
When she reached the stream, she felt excruciating pain from over ten wounds all over her body. Her inner energy was exhausted, and her vision blurred. She felt so tired, so very tired, wanting nothing more than to lie down and sleep, ignoring the pursuers and the danger. But her willpower sustained her, allowing her to drag her weary, wounded body across the thin layer of ice on the stream, staggering to the village.
Pushing open the door of the warm, flickering hut, she could no longer support herself and collapsed to the ground, unconscious. In the instant she lost consciousness, she clearly saw the owner of the hut—a very young boy.
When she awoke, it was the morning of the next day. She opened her eyes and saw a ceiling covered in cobwebs. Turning her head, she saw the boy sleeping peacefully in the wicker chair inside, emitting soft snores, a smile playing on his lips. He was probably having a beautiful dream. It was November, and the weather was very cold; although there was a fire in the stove, he was covered with a blanket. The boy had thick, dark eyebrows, a straight nose, and his mouth was slightly open, revealing clean, white teeth.
She gently moved the blanket and suddenly realized that her wet clothes had been changed, replaced by a worn but clean men's jacket. Even more surprising, her underwear had been changed as well. What was she wearing? Ah, wasn't this a man's underpants? A cool sensation spread from her wounds, feeling very comfortable. This sleeping boy must have done all of this.
She saw her clothes drying on a bench, and her belongings neatly arranged on the table: an oilcloth wrapping, a sheathed longsword, and some everyday items like a tinderbox. There was a stone mortar on the table, emitting a cool, medicinal scent. She picked it up and examined it, unsure of the medicine, but probably some wild herbal concoction the boy had prepared himself.
The boy opened his eyes, waking up with bright, clear eyes. Seeing her scrutinizing gaze, he smiled slightly and said, "You're awake?" She smiled back, "Thank you for saving me." Her smile was radiant, and the boy was momentarily stunned. He took the blanket, stood up, and waved his hand, saying, "It was nothing, nothing at all."
Her eyes lit up. "How could it be nothing? You applied medicine to my wound, bandaged it, and even changed me into some nice clothes." She snuggled into the warm blankets, holding up her hands to show the boy her rather comical clothes. The young man said awkwardly, "I'm sorry, these are the only clothes I have. Your clothes were wet, so I took the liberty of changing them for you. I hope you won't blame me. Also, regarding bandaging your wound, I apologize for any offense done to your noble bearing."
She saw that he spoke politely, unlike a typical country bumpkin, and chuckled, "I won't blame you. I might even give you a reward later. What's your name? Are you a scholar?" The young man replied, "My name is Bolang, 'Bo' meaning 'broad-minded and quick-witted,' and 'Lang' meaning 'a name without substance.' I've read a few books. May I ask your name, young lady?" She found his words amusing and couldn't help but laugh. After thinking for a moment, she said, "My name is Hanshuang. 'Han' meaning 'bitterly cold,' and 'Shuang' meaning 'icy cold.' I dare not accept your name." Bolang smiled. Han Shuang said, "The medicine you applied to my wound seems to be working quite well. What medicine did you use?" Bo Lang replied, "I've read some medical books and hastily concocted a medicine. I was truly relieved to hear that your injuries have improved. The medicines were all gathered in the mountains and by the river; many medical books don't mention them, and they're not even listed in herbal texts. I've tested their properties, and they're very helpful for wound healing."
This young man is quite remarkable, Han Shuang thought to herself, secretly admiring him. Suddenly, she remembered something and asked, "Didn't the people who chased me last night come?" Bo Lang said, "They did, but I hid you well in advance. At first, they were quite aggressive, but after I healed a few of them, they became very polite and left after a short while." Han Shuang was surprised, "How did you know they were coming and hide me beforehand?" Bo Lang said, "Seeing the bloodstains and wounds all over your body, I knew you were being chased by enemies. And from the healing of your wounds and the congealing of the blood, I could deduce that you were injured no more than three hours ago. Those pursuers must have been following you." Only then did Han Shuang look at this young man with new respect. What an extraordinary young man!
Under his superb medical skills and meticulous care, Han Shuang's wounds healed quickly. But she didn't leave immediately. She was deeply attracted to this talented young man. Since Bo Lang didn't like to talk about himself, she inquired through the neighbors. The kind and friendly villagers had never seen such a beautiful girl before, and they all assumed she was Bo Lang's wife, so they told her everything.
Bo Lang wasn't a local. Ten years ago, a strange old man took him to this place and settled down. The old man taught him many things. However, the old man wasn't his relative, just a nominal teacher. A few years later, the old man died. Bo Lang continued to live there. He studied diligently every day, and at the age of 16, he went to the countryside to take the provincial examination and came in first place. But after returning, he lost interest in studying and began to delve into medical books. Soon, his medical skills became famous, and everyone far and wide knew of the young prodigy doctor, Bo Lang. He remained in the small village, refusing the invitations from the powerful and wealthy to go to the city.
Chapter Two: The Heroine Han
Shuang. Han Shuang listened with great interest to the villagers' stories about Bo Lang, and then told them to him when she returned. Bo Lang always laughed and said that it wasn't that amazing, just hearsay.
Han Shuang stayed at Bo Lang's house, and gradually some people showed interest in their marriage. Bo Lang smiled but didn't say anything. In fact, although the two slept in the same small house, they never even held hands. Han Shuang slept in her original bed, while Bo Lang made another one on one side of the room, with a curtain between them, and the fireplace was placed on Han Shuang's side. At night, the two chatted through the curtain. Bo Lang told Han Shuang about the free and easy life in the countryside, and Han Shuang told Bo Lang about interesting stories from the martial arts world. The two got along very well.
Han Shuang wanted to leave. Although this kind of rural life was natural and interesting, it was not suitable for her. She was a heroine who roamed the world, how could she spend her life buried in this place? But she kept putting it off, from today to tomorrow, and from tomorrow to the day after, unwilling to leave. She waited anxiously for Bolang to say something to her, but he remained silent, causing her a pang of bitterness. In truth, Bolang had never experienced romantic love before. Despite his intelligence, he felt somewhat inferior and dared not confess his feelings to this beautiful woman who had stirred his heart for the first time.
Finally, one day, Bolang was chopping firewood in front of his hut when Hanshuang appeared behind him, standing quietly without a word. Her long hair fluttered in the wind, and despite wearing a thick brocade robe, her figure remained graceful, like that of a fairy. Bolang knew she was standing behind him; his shadow on the ground revealed her alluring figure. He gripped his axe tightly, not daring to turn around.
Hanshuang sighed, "I'm leaving tomorrow." Bolang stopped chopping and said, "I knew it." They were never meant to be. “But I can’t bear to part with someone.” Bolang lowered the axe he had raised and asked, “Who?” Han Shuang said softly, “It’s you, silly.” She squatted down, wrapped her arms around Bolang’s waist, and rested her head on his shoulder. Bolang felt her warm, long hair brushing against his neck, tickling him, and his heart was filled with tenderness.
He turned his head and saw the deep affection in Han Shuang’s beautiful eyes. He said, “You…” Han Shuang stopped him from speaking, and she leaned in and pressed her cherry-red lips deeply against his. Bolang responded awkwardly. Han Shuang’s tongue skillfully pried open his teeth and slipped inside, intertwining with his tongue. Bolang was intoxicated; the taste of the kiss was so wonderful.
The two helped each other to their feet and embraced, kissing for a long time. Finally, they separated. Han Shuang’s eyes were glazed, her cheeks flushed, and she exuded a mature and captivating charm. She led the stunned Bolang into the hut. She closed the door and made Bolang sit on the bed. Then Bolang saw a scene that made his blood boil.
Han Shuang began to undress. She was now wearing her original clothes, a pure white brocade robe. Unfastening the robe revealed snow-white trousers and a top, which was quickly removed, leaving only a pink bodice that accentuated her full breasts. Finally, slowly, she unfastened the bodice, fully revealing her firm, white breasts. Her nipples trembled in the cold air, erect and alluring. Her fair skin, her cherry-like nipples, were so captivating. Bo Lang felt dizzy.
Han Shuang, a lewd smile playing on her lips, then removed her trousers. After removing her lower garment, she was left with only a small pair of underpants. Her smooth, fleshy thighs, her tight, smooth abdomen, her alluring pink navel, and her lower body, rounded like a small bun—Bo Lang could no longer withstand such a fierce lust; blood slowly trickled from his nose.
Han Shuang swayed gracefully, her steps like lotus blossoms, and gently wiped the blood from Bo Lang's nose with her loosened pink bodice, then licked his face with her tongue. Bo Lang, embracing her alluring body brimming with infinite mystery and boundless desire, also kissed and licked Han Shuang's face haphazardly.
Han Shuang's nimble hands deftly removed his outer robe and shirt, revealing his naked upper body. Bo Lang's muscles weren't numerous, but each one seemed to contain boundless explosive power and unwavering will. Han Shuang's slender fingers lovingly caressed his body, stroking his chest and abdominal muscles, gradually moving down to his lower abdomen, pressing against Bo Lang's head through his trousers. Bo Lang groaned.
Han Shuang sat on the bed, making Bo Lang stand up. She pressed her face against Bo Lang's chest and abdomen, rubbing it vigorously, and with both hands removed Bo Lang's belt, his trousers slipping to the floor. Bo Lang had already created a very impressive tent in his underwear. Frost gripped the tent poles, gently kneading them to raise the tent higher. Bolang let her do as she pleased, letting out a soft sigh of comfort.

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