《Immortal Vengeance》 Chapter 1- Dying Emperor A great bird flew across the sky, soaring straight into the clouds. Wisps of smoke and faint lamplight began to glow as the high-hanging sun slowly sank below the horizon, disappearing between the mountains and plains. The lingering clouds seemed dyed with rich colors, like yellow ink splashed across the sky. The glow between the cloud layers pierced through the mist, shining down on the streets beneath the towering city walls and grand archways. It also illuminated the dazzling golden palace gates, casting a touch of dusk and a lingering sense of decay over the scene. Pedestrians hurried along, carriages and horses pressed forward without pause, and no one dared to linger. Black-armored soldiers wielding knives and axes marched with heavy steps down the streets. From the alleys, ornate carriages emerged from lavish mansions, moving with urgency. One after another, they gathered and sped along the stone-paved roads. Without exception, they all headed toward the solemn, ancient palace at the city¡¯s heart, encircled by rivers. A sudden thunderclap roared from the distance. Dark clouds rolled in like a surging black tide, heavy with the promise of rain and a deep, mournful weight. Tiny raindrops fell amid the howling thunder, wetting the green stone roads. Gradually, the rain mixed with dust, forming layers of mud. This wasn¡¯t just rain. It was a moment that would determine the fate of countless lives, steeped in uncertainty and turmoil. Rainwater dripped from the eaves, falling onto flowers in costly pots, creating a steady drip-drip as it struck the leaves. Yet it couldn¡¯t mask the stench of medicine and rot lingering in the air. Beneath pillars carved with five mythical beasts and dragon motifs, alongside leaping koi fish, stood exquisite porcelain works crafted by master artisans of the fallen dynasty. Now, they were mere ornaments. Under the red-lacquered railings, designs of dragons and phoenixes soared in flight. The red paint on the wooden walls, weathered by time, carried the heavy scent of age and a faint rustic charm. The main gate faced south, grand and radiant, but now it stood slightly ajar. The wind rustled the light silk curtains by the screen, producing a soft swishing sound. Oil lamps flickered within their covers, casting shadows that resembled man-eating beasts onto a group of people kneeling on the floor, hardly daring to breathe. The candlelight danced, the silk swayed, rain poured outside, and inside reigned a deathly silence. It was eerily quiet. So quiet that the fall of a needle would ring clear. Yet no one dared make a sound. ¡°Cough¡­¡± After an unknowable stretch of time, a few faint coughs broke the stillness from deeper within, injecting a trace of life into the lifeless palace. But it only made the kneeling figures shrink lower, as if those coughs had shattered their spirits. Their backs bent further, their heads dipped deeper. The founding emperor of the Bright Hua was wise and mighty, a brilliant strategist. With a three-foot sword, he conquered the world, unified all lands, and forged an unrivaled legacy for eternity. Yet even he couldn¡¯t escape time, couldn¡¯t halt decay, couldn¡¯t defy death. As long as he drew breath, he remained the sole sovereign of this vast empire, the supreme shepherd of the world, the Son of Heaven chosen by destiny. ¡°Haah¡­¡± A long sigh escaped from the lavish dragon bed, brimming with reluctance to age and a deep yearning for the power he couldn¡¯t release. ¡°¡­If only I could cultivate immortality, how wondrous that would be¡­¡± Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. But he knew the world wouldn¡¯t abide an immortal emperor, nor would the heavens permit an eternal ruler. And he harbored no regrets for this path. Becoming an emperor who grasped the lives of all beneath the heavens, wielding the fates of billions. Given another chance, he¡¯d still choose dominion over wandering free. ¡°¡­Summon Kai.¡± The emperor, his face wrinkled, pale as parchment, hair and beard white, features buried in folds of skin, eyes clouded, suddenly sharpened his gaze. His voice surged with strength. An aged eunuch waiting by the door stepped lightly over the threshold and glided across the carpeted hall without a sound. He reached the dragon bed swiftly, knelt in silence, and performed a full kowtow nine times, pressing his forehead to the floor, motionless. ¡°For me¡­ go do something¡­¡± The emperor spoke faintly but with clarity, his tiger-like eyes gleaming, impossible to meet head-on. It almost recalled his youthful vigor, though all knew this was merely the final flare before the end. The emperor who once reigned supreme wouldn¡¯t outlast the night. ¡°This servant obeys.¡± Kai¡¯s voice quavered, nearly breaking into sobs. After listening, he slid backward across the floor, head bowed, until the dragon bed reeking of medicine and decay faded from view. Then he rose. ¡°Go¡­ I won¡¯t last much longer.¡± The emperor¡¯s tone was calm. Kai staggered as if struck, trembling violently. He drew a deep breath, steadied himself, and hastened off with a few eunuchs and loyal armed guards toward the depths of the palace¡¯s Yong Row. Yong Row was where aged palace maids and eunuchs were cast aside. Those over forty, stripped of favor or rank, ended up there. Some could leave after their service and return home, but most perished in the cold, shadowed alleys, forgotten like dead rats. Only when the stench of their corpses grew unbearable would guards drag them out for burial. Kai didn¡¯t know why the emperor sent him to Yong Row or what the final command entailed. He only knew this was the last act he could perform as the emperor¡¯s servant. Stepping through sewage and filth, Kai grimaced and sought the row¡¯s overseer. Looking at the bowing eunuch, he asked, ¡°Is there a eunuch surnamed Li in Yong Row?¡± ¡°Lord Kai, there are countless eunuchs named Li in the palace. Even though I''m surnamed Li. This¡­ it¡¯s hard for me to say.¡± The overseer smiled awkwardly, unease creeping in. Yong Row was a dumping ground for discarded servants. Why was the emperor¡¯s chief eunuch here? He only hoped trouble wouldn¡¯t ensnare him. ¡°Named¡­¡± Kai frowned. Truthfully, he didn¡¯t know. The emperor had ordered him to kill a eunuch surnamed Li in Yong Row, but no specific name was given. Did that mean he shouldn¡¯t kill? No. This was the emperor¡¯s dying wish. As a servant, Kai had to fulfill it. A ruthless glint flashed in his eyes. He signaled his men and fixed his gaze on the overseer. ¡°You said you¡¯re surnamed Li too?¡± The overseer blinked, puzzled. What was this chief eunuch planning? Still, he bowed and answered truthfully, ¡°Yes, I am surnamed Li.¡± ¡°Li¡¯s good enough.¡± Those were the overseer¡¯s final words. A sharp pain struck his neck, the world spun, and darkness swallowed him. Blood gushed from his severed neck. His head, still bearing a fawning expression mixed with shock, rolled like a ball across the ground. His body twitched a few times before collapsing, blood pooling and staining the mossy bricks. ¡°Lord!¡± The guard who beheaded the overseer turned to Kai. ¡°Leave no one alive,¡± Kai said coldly. ¡°This is the emperor¡¯s will.¡± The guards didn¡¯t hesitate. They drew their swords and stepped silently into Yong Row. ¡°What are you doing?!¡± ¡°Don¡¯t kill me!!¡± ¡°Help! Help!!!¡± ¡°I¡¯m innocent! No!!¡± Cries and the sound of blades slicing flesh reverberated. Deep in Yong Row, in a rotting room reeking of excrement and urine, an old eunuch lay on a bed. His clothes were tattered, his skin festered, his hair was white, and his body was mottled with corpse-like spots. Thin as dry wood, he appeared over seventy, teetering on death¡¯s edge. The bed was broken, the bedding soaked in filth. One leg jutted out, as if he were already half-departed. ¡°Killing¡­ they¡¯re killing?¡± Hearing the screams outside, the old eunuch clutched his ragged blanket, trembling and whimpering, ¡°Wuu¡­ I don¡¯t want to die, I don¡¯t want to die!¡± [Don¡¯t bother, you¡¯re dead anyway.] A voice echoed in his mind. ¡°Please, spare me! Spare me!¡± Tears and snot streamed down his filthy, unwashed face. ¡°Why? Why? I didn¡¯t do anything. Why do I have to suffer and die?¡± [Why? Yeah, why¡­] The voice grew clearer. [Why are you dying? You want to know why? Because¡­] The voice sharpened, turning wild, almost unhinged. [Because that old bastard Ming is dying! He¡¯s finally dying!] [Hahahahahaha! Laughing my ass off!] [That Ming who said we¡¯d be brothers, who said we¡¯d return to Earth together. Bright Hua¡¯s founding emperor, the wise and mighty eternal ruler, the great emperor. He¡¯s dying!] [Hahahahahaha¡­ he¡¯s got his day too! Wasn¡¯t he so badass?] [I helped you build this empire, just wanting to go back, and this is what I get? I was blind, I deserved it! Two time-travelers, only one survives. I was too naive¡­ See this? Trapped in this useless body for thirty years! Over thirty damn years!] [Afraid my soul would escape, he locked me in this wreck of a body. Now I¡¯m about to fade away completely, but guess what. You¡¯re still dying before me!] [Hahahahahaha¡­] ¡°Wuu¡­¡± The old eunuch shook harder, terrified by the mad voice in his head. [Old eunuch¡­ don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m dying too. Soul scattering, gone for good. I won¡¯t bother you anymore.] After the crazed laughter, the voice softened, taking on a gentleness it had never shown before. [But now, I don¡¯t want you to die.] [I want you to live. Live well¡­ then go fuck Ming¡¯s descendants. Fuck his daughters and granddaughters, knock them up, put a giant green hat on his lineage, let them bear your bastards, and piss on his grave.] ¡°Wuu¡­ it hurts!¡± ¡°So hot!! It hurts so bad!! Wuu¡­¡± The old eunuch sobbed, feeling a burning heat in his lower belly, so intense he rolled on the bed in agony. His dick, cut off its balls long ago, old and limp, suddenly swelled like a balloon. It grew into a fiery hot sausage, standing tall, ripping through his filthy pants like an angry dragon. Veins bulge on it, wrapping around the shaft. It stretched to a jaw-dropping size. 28 or 29 centimeters, maybe even over 30, and 7 or 8 centimeters thick. The head ballooned to a terrifying 10 centimeters wide, like a giant python spitting in the forest. The castration scar stayed unchanged, making it look like a clawless, ridiculous beast. After a while, the monstrous cock softened, shrinking back between his legs. Even limp, it was huge. 15 or 16 centimeters long, hanging between his wrinkled, bony thighs like a third leg. [There. In a month or so, your balls will grow back. Then you can shoot as much as you want. Too much, never too little¡­] The voice sounded tired and weak. [As for how you survive¡­ heh!] It turned mocking and bitter. [Ming, didn¡¯t you look down on me? Then why¡­ Why do you let your descendants practice my dao techniques?] The voice faded until it was gone. Chapter 2- Sister Last month, when news of Ming¡¯s sudden illness spread from the palace, it reached the princes and grandchildren scattered across the land. Some spies had already leaked that Ming¡¯s sickness lingered. Especially the few princes who seemed calm on the surface but fought to the death underneath. They¡¯d long been ready. All sides moved their pieces, placing bets and making plays. Ming had seventeen sons, but only three had the background and hope to claim the throne. The rest were too young, already out of the game, locked up, or sent to distant lands. One was Prince Ren, the fourth son. Mature and steady, deeply cunning, he kept a low profile. Respectful to Ming, flawless with officials, sometimes even overly ordinary. One was Prince Tao, the ninth son. Known for his literary grace, he had a great reputation among scholars and the common folk, with influence in culture and politics. The last was Prince Zan, the twelfth son. Young and bold, fiery-tempered, free-spirited, and ruthless, he had a heroic air. His mother¡¯s clan was powerful, and he had the army¡¯s loudest support. Qing, Prince Ren¡¯s eldest daughter, was sent to an immortal sect as a child to train. A direct disciple of the Xian Sect, she had rare talent. Some said she had the makings of an immortal. It also tied Prince Ren to the righteous immortal sects, a hidden alliance. She returned to the capital this time for two reasons: to visit her dying grandfather, Ming, and to show which prince the immortal sects backed, making the final move. Prince Ren had such power and support behind his quiet facade. It shocked everyone. Sure enough, the immortal sects¡¯ stance shook the court. Prince Zan gritted his teeth in rage at home, and even the usually composed Prince Tao sighed and shook his head. This wasn¡¯t just a mortal world. It was a real one with immortals wielding incredible power. The sects¡¯ support mattered hugely, no wonder the other princes lost it. After over a decade away, Qing became a star among the capital¡¯s noble ladies. As a high-level cultivator, she gained a mysterious allure that obsessed people. But for days, aside from a few public appearances, she stayed silent in Prince Ren¡¯s mansion. Only a handful saw her; others couldn¡¯t even get close. In the deep courtyard of Prince Ren¡¯s mansion, a stunningly beautiful girl stood gracefully, watching the misty rain and the faint fish in the pond. Her eyes were clear and bright like the moon. She wore a white dress, pure as the moon in the sky. A breeze blew, lifting her skirt, revealing a glimpse of her snow-white legs. Whiter than finely carved jade. Qing frowned slightly, her face delicate and gorgeous yet gentle and calm. Her cool eyes gazed into the distance, her long hair fluttering with a white ribbon, exuding natural immortal charm. Her full boobs rose and fell slightly, as if she had something on her mind. Qing did have worries, but not worldly ones. She was naturally serene, like the moon. Calm and pure. Or like a clear stream in rugged mountains. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. She didn¡¯t care about mundane things or her father¡¯s obsession with the throne. She thought of the high clouds above the ninth heaven, the mystic dao beyond the sky. *The Xuaxian Scripture.* Qing¡¯s lovely eyes stared at the pond, but her mind recalled her master¡¯s words when she left the mountain. ¡°This *Xuaxian Scripture* is profound and complex. Its creator was a genius who once shook the world¡­ Though it strays from tradition, it points straight to the dao. A pity¡­¡± Ming had given her the *Xuaxian Scripture* when she left for the Xian Sect. She remembered him then. Still in his prime. Handing it over while an old advisor hesitated nearby. And Ming had said with bold confidence, ¡°He was never my match, even till death. My descendants using his dao is an honor to him.¡± Even the sect elders praised the scripture¡¯s creator, yet sighed with regret. But why they sighed, most wouldn¡¯t say, as if it was taboo. Qing came back this time partly on sect orders and for training, but also to ask Ming about it. Sadly, she¡¯d visited him a few times, and he was either unconscious or too weak to talk. ¡°Sister! Sister!¡± Before she could think more, a sweet, bell-like voice called from outside the pavilion. Qing¡¯s calm face turned helpless, but with a doting warmth. She turned to see a petite figure hopping toward her. ¡°Oof, little princess! Slow down, slow down!¡± Behind the girl came the pleading, coaxing voice of an old nanny. This was Li, Prince Ren¡¯s youngest daughter. Unlike her older sister, the lofty moon standing apart, Li was small but curvy. Her boobs were like bamboo shoots or shy lotus buds, her waist slimmer than a willow. Her pretty face was like the summer sun. Brows tinged with peach-blossom red, cheeks like apricots, lips cherry-red. Her almond eyes sparkled, fresh and shy like spring shoots after rain. She threw herself into Qing¡¯s arms, rubbing her pink face against her sister¡¯s full boobs, making Qing giggle from the tickling. Her snowy neck showed creamy skin, and her cleavage peeked out now and then, a fleeting glimpse that could mesmerize anyone. The sisters laughed and played, one tall, one small, their beauty and innocence a sight unseen by outsiders. Only the old nannies watched, a pity no one else could. After a while, Qing pushed her little sister off, smoothed their wrinkled dresses, and said, ¡°Li, no lessons today? Why¡¯re you here?¡± At the mention of lessons, Li¡¯s flower-like smile faded. Her sly eyes darted, twinkling like a sneaky fox. ¡°Forget that for now, sister! Sister!¡± ¡°Brother Feng¡¯s here.¡± Brother Feng? Feng. Qing¡¯s eyes drifted, picturing that stubborn boy with pursed lips and determined eyes. In her months of training off the mountain, she¡¯d met him several times, each leaving a mark. Whether fighting five alone at the Tomb of the Scattered Immortal without losing, or sweeping thousands of demon troops single-handedly in Sky Rift Valley like an unmatched warrior¡­ But her deepest memory was atop the Lunar Tower under the moonlight, when Feng said, ¡°Cultivating immortality isn¡¯t freedom, gods aren¡¯t carefree. Better to go home and shovel shit.¡± Free-spirited, loyal, casual yet principled, not a hero by name but always acting like one. That was Qing¡¯s impression of Feng. ¡°What¡¯s he here for?¡± she asked casually, though her moon-like eyes rippled like water. At Feng¡¯s name, Li perked up. ¡°Brother Feng¡¯s great at alchemy! He can make that lost¡­ uh, what¡¯s it called¡­ Innate Return¡­ something¡­¡± ¡°Innate Return Origin Pill,¡± Qing filled in. ¡°Right, right! Innate Return Origin Pill.¡± Li nodded. ¡°Father made a deal with him. Give him materials to make one. It can heal Marshal Jun¡¯s old wound. If Marshal Jun sides with Father, uh¡­ helps him, right?¡± Though of age and sharp-witted, Li wasn¡¯t versed in politics. Thanks to Prince Ren¡¯s doting. In a normal family, she¡¯d already be a mother running the house. But now was a critical time. The capital¡¯s officials and factions were locked in struggle, one side rising as another fell. Only Qing and Li could still laugh carefree here. Outside, the storm was brewing. Marshal Jun, a founding hero and one of the last, held huge sway among the military nobles. His choice could shift the tide. If he backed Prince Ren, Ren¡¯s claim to the throne would be nearly certain. Unless Ming¡¯s will said otherwise. *Feng, I owe you one,* Qing thought with a sigh. But then, her heart stirred. The wall blocking her cultivation, unmoved for so long, loosened. ¡°A breakthrough!¡± Her aura shifted, turning cold and striking. She became the lofty moon again, her eyes sharp and commanding. ¡°Sister!¡± Li said, worried by her change. ¡°It¡¯s fine. My chance has come.¡± Qing¡¯s voice was like the moon on a cold night, so awe-inspiring the nannies knelt instinctively, bowing to this proud, pure light. Chapter 3- Slaughter "In the palace!" She stepped forward, the pond rippled, and her figure vanished. "Sister¡­" Li frowned with concern. "Who''s there?" "Daring to trespass in the palace!" From the void, stern voices laced with power rang out. In this tense time, the palace''s guardians were on high alert. "Qing of Bright Hua!" High above the palace, her moon-like presence shone, her aura clear. She flashed the emperor''s personal pass. The palace''s terrifying auras paused, sensing the dragon qi on the token. With no rejection from Bright Hua''s dragon qi, they faded back. In Yong Row, the outer eunuchs and maids were all slaughtered. Blood flowed like rivers, bodies piled up, sprawled in rooms or against walls, faces twisted in horror. Guards surrounded a rotting shack, eyeing each other warily. It stank too much. Like decades of shit, piss, and garbage stewing together. Even ten meters away, the guards felt last night''s meal rising. Kai walked past the walls, where red paint mixed with blood. His sharp, grim eyes checked every corpse, satisfied only after seeing each one. Reaching the guards, he saw them circling the shack but not entering. "What''s this? Why aren''t you going in to kill?" "Lord Kai, it''s not that we don''t want to¡­ it''s just too damn smelly." Kai stepped closer, and the stench hit him like a wall. The pampered eunuch puked on the spot, and guards yanked him back dozens of feet. He retched until his guts felt empty, then gritted his teeth and pointed at a guard. "You, drag him out. I want to see him die!" "Huh?" The guard froze, face twisting. He couldn''t disobey, so he tore off cloth, stuffed his nose, and charged in under everyone''s gaze. Inside, his eyes watered instantly. The smell was unbearable, outside was bad, but here it blinded him with tears. Squinting, he spotted Elder shivering on the wrecked bed, dirtier than the filthiest beggar. Fighting the urge to puke, he grabbed him. "Don''t kill me, don''t kill me!" The guard yanked the struggling eunuch, catching a glimpse of his torn pants. Even soft, that cock was massive, bigger than most men''s, enough to spark jealousy. *Damn, good thing he''s a eunuch!* The guard envied it for a second, then saw the empty sack below that python-like dick and felt better. He dragged Elder out and threw him before the group. "Ugh!" The source of the stench arrived, and the guards turned away, some gagging. Kai, already emptied, puked again until he was dizzy, seeing stars. Shaking his head to clear it, he didn''t even glance at Elder. Waving a hand, he shouted, "Kill him!" The guard, stomach churning, raised his sword to hack the skeletal eunuch. The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. "Stop!!" A cold voice cut through, and an unstoppable force knocked the sword away. The group snapped back to see a girl in white, skirt fluttering. Her inner white robe hugged her full boobs subtly, their perfection clear through the fabric. Her tall, slim figure was flawless, waist trembling slightly, hips round and balanced, legs long and straight. A breeze lifted her skirt, showing jade-white calves that dazzled. Qing frowned at the blood and bodies around her, like clouds dimming the moon, half-annoyed, half-charming. Even the stopped guard stared, reluctant to ruin her beauty. "Princess Qing!" Kai reacted first. As the emperor''s beloved granddaughter and Ren''s eldest, she''d visited the palace often lately. How could he not know her? He stood with help, bowed, and didn''t ask why she stopped them or explain the killings. He just stated a fact. "Princess, this is His Majesty''s order. Even you can''t interfere. Let this old servant finish his last task for him. I''ll take the blame after." But Qing didn''t look at him. Her moon-like eyes gazed past the palace lanes, filled with unshakable sorrow. *Dong! Dong! Dong¡­* Heavy bells tolled, mixed with cries and wails from the palace. The timekeeping eunuch struck the bell tower nine times. In Bright Hua''s rites: one toll for time, two for an emperor''s summons, three for court, four for seasons, five for ceremonies, six for an empress''s death, seven for military affairs, eight for national crisis. Nine tolls, the emperor''s death. Bright Hua''s founding emperor, the supreme ruler, the victorious time-traveler, was gone. Kai''s face turned ashen, and he collapsed. ¡ª [Old eunuch¡­ don''t worry, I''m dying too. Soul scattering, gone for good. I won''t bother you anymore.] After the crazed laughter, the voice calmed, even softened in a way it never had before. [But now, I don''t want you to die.] [I want you to live, live well¡­ then go fuck Ming''s descendants. Fuck his daughters and granddaughters, knock them up, put a giant green hat on his lineage, let them bear your bastards, and piss on his grave.] "Wuu¡­ it hurts!" "So hot!! It hurts so bad!! Wuu¡­" Elder sobbed, feeling a burning heat in his lower belly, so intense he rolled on the bed in pain. His dick, cut of its balls long ago, old and limp, suddenly swelled like a balloon. It grew into a fiery hot sausage, standing tall, ripping through his filthy pants like an angry dragon. Veins bulged on it, wrapping around the shaft. It stretched to a jaw-dropping size, 28 or 29 centimeters, maybe even over 30, and 7 or 8 centimeters thick. The head ballooned to a terrifying 10 centimeters wide, like a giant python spitting in the forest. The castration scar stayed unchanged, making it look like a clawless, ridiculous beast. After a while, the monstrous cock softened, shrinking back between his legs. Even limp, it was huge, 15 or 16 centimeters long, hanging between his wrinkled, bony thighs like a third leg. [There. In a month or so, your balls will grow back. Then you can shoot as much as you want, too much, never too little¡­] The voice sounded tired and weak. [As for how you survive¡­ heh!] It turned mocking and bitter. [Ming, didn''t you look down on me? Then why¡­ why do you let your descendants practice my dao techniques?] The voice faded until it was gone. ¡ª Last month, when news of the emperor''s sudden illness spread from the palace, it reached the princes and grandchildren scattered across the land. Some spies had already leaked that the emperor''s sickness lingered. Especially the few princes who seemed calm on the surface but fought to the death underneath, they''d long been ready. All sides moved their pieces, placing bets and making plays. The emperor had seventeen sons, but only three had the background and hope to claim the throne. The rest were too young, already out of the game, locked up, or sent to distant lands. One was Ren, the fourth son. Mature and steady, deeply cunning, he kept a low profile. Respectful to the emperor, flawless with officials, sometimes even overly ordinary. One was Tao, the ninth son. Known for his literary grace, he had a great reputation among scholars and the common folk, with influence in culture and politics. The last was Zan, the twelfth son. Young and bold, fiery-tempered, free-spirited, and ruthless, he had a heroic air. His mother''s clan was powerful, and he had the army''s loudest support. Qing, Ren''s eldest daughter, was sent to an immortal sect as a child to train. A direct disciple of the Xian Sect, she had rare talent, some said she had the makings of an immortal. It also tied Ren to the righteous immortal sects, a hidden alliance. She returned to the capital this time for two reasons: to visit her dying grandfather, the emperor, and to show which prince the immortal sects backed, making the final move. Ren had such power and support behind his quiet facade, it shocked everyone. Sure enough, the immortal sects'' stance shook the court. Zan gritted his teeth in rage at home, and even the usually composed Tao sighed and shook his head. This wasn''t just a mortal world, it was a real one with immortals wielding incredible power. The sects'' support mattered hugely, no wonder the other princes lost it. After over a decade away, Qing became a star among the capital''s noble ladies. As a high-level cultivator, she gained a mysterious allure that obsessed people. But for days, aside from a few public appearances, she stayed silent in Ren''s mansion. Only a handful saw her; others couldn''t even get close. Chapter 4- Emperors Death In the deep courtyard of Ren''s mansion, a stunningly beautiful girl stood gracefully, watching the misty rain and the faint fish in the pond. Her eyes were clear and bright like the moon. She wore a white dress, pure as the moon in the sky. A breeze blew, lifting her skirt, revealing a glimpse of her snow-white legs, whiter than finely carved jade. Qing frowned slightly, her face delicate and gorgeous yet gentle and calm. Her cool eyes gazed into the distance, her long hair fluttering with a white ribbon, exuding natural immortal charm. Her full boobs rose and fell slightly, as if she had something on her mind. Qing did have worries, but not worldly ones. She was naturally serene, like the moon, calm and pure, or like a clear stream in rugged mountains. She didn''t care about mundane things or her father''s obsession with the throne. She thought of the high clouds above the ninth heaven, the mystic dao beyond the sky. *The Xian Scripture.* Qing''s lovely eyes stared at the pond, but her mind recalled her master''s words when she left the mountain. "This *Xian Scripture* is profound and complex. Its creator was a genius who once shook the world¡­ Though it strays from tradition, it points straight to the dao. A pity¡­" The emperor had given her the *Xian Scripture* when she left for the Xian Sect. She remembered him then, still in his prime, handing it over while an old advisor hesitated nearby. And the emperor, Ming, had said with bold confidence, "He was never my match, even till death. My descendants using his dao is an honor to him." Even the sect elders praised the scripture''s creator, yet sighed with regret. But why they sighed, most wouldn''t say, as if it was taboo. Qing came back this time partly on sect orders and for training, but also to ask her grandfather about it. Sadly, she''d visited him a few times, and he was either unconscious or too weak to talk. "Sister! Sister!" Before she could think more, a sweet, bell-like voice called from outside the pavilion. Qing''s calm face turned helpless, but with a doting warmth. She turned to see a petite figure hopping toward her. "Oof, little princess! Slow down, slow down!" Behind the girl came the pleading, coaxing voice of an old nanny. This was Li, Ren''s youngest daughter. Unlike her older sister, the lofty moon standing apart, Li was small but curvy. Her boobs were like bamboo shoots or shy lotus buds, her waist slimmer than a willow. Her pretty face was like the summer sun, brows tinged with peach-blossom red, cheeks like apricots, lips cherry-red. Her almond eyes sparkled, fresh and shy like spring shoots after rain. She threw herself into Qing''s arms, rubbing her pink face against her sister''s full boobs, making Qing giggle from the tickling. Her snowy neck showed creamy skin, and her cleavage peeked out now and then, a fleeting glimpse that could mesmerize anyone. The sisters laughed and played, one tall, one small, their beauty and innocence a sight unseen by outsiders, only the old nannies watched, a pity no one else could. After a while, Qing pushed her little sister off, smoothed their wrinkled dresses, and said, "Li, no lessons today? Why''re you here?" At the mention of lessons, Li''s flower-like smile faded. Her sly eyes darted, twinkling like a sneaky fox. "Forget that for now, sister! Sister!" "Brother Feng''s here." Brother Feng? If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Feng. Qing''s eyes drifted, picturing that stubborn boy with pursed lips and determined eyes. In her months of training off the mountain, she''d met him several times, each leaving a mark. Whether fighting five alone at the Tomb of the Scattered Immortal without losing, or sweeping thousands of demon troops single-handedly in Sky Rift Valley like an unmatched warrior¡­ But her deepest memory was atop the Lunar Tower under the moonlight, when Feng said, "Cultivating immortality isn''t freedom, gods aren''t carefree, better to go home and shovel shit." Free-spirited, loyal, casual yet principled, not a hero by name but always acting like one. That was Qing''s impression of Feng. "What''s he here for?" she asked casually, though her moon-like eyes rippled like water. At Feng''s name, Li perked up. "Brother Feng''s great at alchemy! He can make that lost¡­ uh, what''s it called¡­ Innate Return¡­ something¡­" "Innate Return Origin Pill," Qing filled in. "Right, right! Innate Return Origin Pill." Li nodded. "Father made a deal with him, give him materials to make one. It can heal Marshal Jun''s old wound. If Marshal Jun sides with Father, uh¡­ helps him, right?" Though of age and sharp-witted, Li wasn''t versed in politics, thanks to Ren''s doting. In a normal family, she''d already be a mother running the house. But now was a critical time. The capital''s officials and factions were locked in struggle, one side rising as another fell. Only Qing and Li could still laugh carefree here, outside, the storm was brewing. Marshal Jun, a founding hero and one of the last, held huge sway among the military nobles. His choice could shift the tide. If he backed Ren, Ren''s claim to the throne would be nearly certain, unless the emperor''s will said otherwise. *Feng, I owe you one,* Qing thought with a sigh. But then, her heart stirred. The wall blocking her cultivation, unmoved for so long, loosened. "A breakthrough!" Her aura shifted, turning cold and striking. She became the lofty moon again, her eyes sharp and commanding. "Sister!" Li said, worried by her change. "It''s fine. My chance has come." Qing''s voice was like the moon on a cold night, so awe-inspiring the nannies knelt instinctively, bowing to this proud, pure light. "In the palace!" She stepped forward, the pond rippled, and her figure vanished. "Sister¡­" Li frowned with concern. "Who''s there?" "Daring to trespass in the palace!" From the void, stern voices laced with power rang out. In this tense time, the palace''s guardians were on high alert. "Qing of Bright Hua!" High above the palace, her moon-like presence shone, her aura clear. She flashed the emperor''s personal pass. The palace''s terrifying auras paused, sensing the dragon qi on the token. With no rejection from Bright Hua''s dragon qi, they faded back. In Yong Row, the outer eunuchs and maids were all slaughtered. Blood flowed like rivers, bodies piled up, sprawled in rooms or against walls, faces twisted in horror. Guards surrounded a rotting shack, eyeing each other warily. It stank too much. Like decades of shit, piss, and garbage stewing together. Even ten meters away, the guards felt last night''s meal rising. Kai walked past the walls, where red paint mixed with blood. His sharp, grim eyes checked every corpse, satisfied only after seeing each one. Reaching the guards, he saw them circling the shack but not entering. "What''s this? Why aren''t you going in to kill?" "Lord Kai, it''s not that we don''t want to¡­ it''s just too damn smelly." Kai stepped closer, and the stench hit him like a wall. The pampered eunuch puked on the spot, and guards yanked him back dozens of feet. He retched until his guts felt empty, then gritted his teeth and pointed at a guard. "You, drag him out. I want to see him die!" "Huh?" The guard froze, face twisting. He couldn''t disobey, so he tore off cloth, stuffed his nose, and charged in under everyone''s gaze. Inside, his eyes watered instantly. The smell was unbearable, outside was bad, but here it blinded him with tears. Squinting, he spotted Elder shivering on the wrecked bed, dirtier than the filthiest beggar. Fighting the urge to puke, he grabbed him. "Don''t kill me, don''t kill me!" The guard yanked the struggling eunuch, catching a glimpse of his torn pants. Even soft, that cock was massive, bigger than most men''s, enough to spark jealousy. *Damn, good thing he''s a eunuch!* The guard envied it for a second, then saw the empty sack below that python-like dick and felt better. He dragged Elder out and threw him before the group. "Ugh!" The source of the stench arrived, and the guards turned away, some gagging. Kai, already emptied, puked again until he was dizzy, seeing stars. Shaking his head to clear it, he didn''t even glance at Elder. Waving a hand, he shouted, "Kill him!" The guard, stomach churning, raised his sword to hack the skeletal eunuch. "Stop!!" A cold voice cut through, and an unstoppable force knocked the sword away. The group snapped back to see a girl in white, skirt fluttering. Her inner white robe hugged her full boobs subtly, their perfection clear through the fabric. Her tall, slim figure was flawless, waist trembling slightly, hips round and balanced, legs long and straight. A breeze lifted her skirt, showing jade-white calves that dazzled. Qing frowned at the blood and bodies around her, like clouds dimming the moon, half-annoyed, half-charming. Even the stopped guard stared, reluctant to ruin her beauty. "Princess Qing!" Kai reacted first. As the emperor''s beloved granddaughter and Ren''s eldest, she''d visited the palace often lately. How could he not know her? He stood with help, bowed, and didn''t ask why she stopped them or explain the killings. He just stated a fact. "Princess, this is His Majesty''s order. Even you can''t interfere. Let this old servant finish his last task for him. I''ll take the blame after." But Qing didn''t look at him. Her moon-like eyes gazed past the palace lanes, filled with unshakable sorrow. *Dong! Dong! Dong¡­* Heavy bells tolled, mixed with cries and wails from the palace. The timekeeping eunuch struck the bell tower nine times. In Bright Hua''s rites: one toll for time, two for an emperor''s summons, three for court, four for seasons, five for ceremonies, six for an empress''s death, seven for military affairs, eight for national crisis. Nine tolls, the emperor''s death. Bright Hua''s founding emperor, the supreme ruler, the victorious time-traveler, was gone. Kai''s face turned ashen, and he collapsed. Chapter 5- Power Struggle The emperor''s death not only marks the end of an era but also the beginning of struggles. Zan, in his mansion, dressed in military attire, looked back at his tearful wife and daughter. Despite the unfavorable situation, he was full of confidence: "Don''t worry, I''ve never lost." Meanwhile, Tao, upon hearing the nine tolls of the bell, slowly rose from his seat, adjusted his crown, and said: "Now, if we don''t fight, we die; if we fight, we might live." Then Ren looked at his daughter Li and said: "Li, your father is going to secure a princess title for you and Qing!" The usually composed Ren also donned his military attire, looked at his innocent daughter, and stroked her hair. This is the inevitable beginning and end of a dynasty''s transition, inescapable. The strong and wise founding emperor, Ming, was always hesitant and indecisive about his successor. His desire for power and reluctance to relinquish the throne grew stronger with age, inevitably leading to bloodshed and slaughter, even between father and sons. The eldest prince, the second prince, the third prince, the seventh prince¡­ involving five or six princes, with the crown prince deposed three times, caused several eligible princes to be either imprisoned or exiled, losing their chance to ascend the throne. The matter of the nation''s foundation shook the court multiple times, but all were suppressed by Ming''s authority and iron fist. Even as a time-traveler, facing the passage of time and the swelling desire for power, he couldn''t remain as detached as he had imagined. Countless lessons from history were laid before him, and Ming knew well that his suspicion and dark obsession with holding onto power would inevitably lead to a storm of blood after his death. But he was both a visionary time-traveler and a supreme emperor of a vast empire, growing capricious and paranoid with time. Under the influence of power, he became a tyrant who knowingly committed wrongs. After his death, he cared not if floods ravaged the land. Kai slumped on the ground, tears streaming down his face, silent for a long time. Qing also gazed into the distance, her tall and graceful figure motionless, silent. The guards knelt towards the emperor''s palace, unwilling to raise their heads for a long time. Except for Elder Mu, who had escaped death, his wrinkled and spotted face streaked with tears, his turbid eyes slightly open, looking at the girl who saved him. Qing''s figure was slender and graceful, with a slim waist barely a handful wide. The perfect curves of the young girl were already evident, her ample bosom stretching her plain embroidered clothes into an astonishing arc. The charming curve of her hips trembled under the breeze, her dress faintly clinging to her body, slightly sinking into the crevice between her legs. Two perfect peach-like buttocks loomed faintly, outlining a captivating arc. Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. Elder Mu''s turbid eyes grew dazed. He remembered, long ago, he had seen that tender and juicy peach, half-ripe, not yet dripping with juice, yet crisp and appetizing, making one want to take a big bite. The meat rod in his tattered pants stirred, lifting slightly, growing scorching hot, like a giant python awakening from sleep, reaching eighteen or nineteen centimeters in length. Qing seemed to sense something; her gaze lightly swept over, like the moon shining on a ditch, casual and indifferent. Elder Mu was clothed in rags, with only a few sparse hairs on his head lying messily. His face and body were caked with years of grime and mud, his features all wrinkles and unidentifiable black spots. His teeth, though not many had fallen out, were yellowed disgustingly, exuding a foul stench that made Qing, whose body had long been purified, frown slightly. His clothes and pants, worn for years without replacement, were full of holes without a single patch. Through the gaps, his bony chest was visible, ribs starkly outlined, his arms and legs atrophied like bamboo poles. Between his legs, however¡­!!! A thick meat rod, like a spiked club, twenty centimeters long and five or six centimeters thick, was slightly rising, like a coiled python waiting for prey, ready to strike and bite fiercely. On Qing''s stunningly beautiful face, pure as a silver moon, a faint flush appeared, barely noticeable. She shifted her gaze elsewhere. Yet that thick thing seemed etched in her mind, imprinted in her consciousness, impossible to shake off. This was the first time in her life she had seen a man''s private parts¡­ So vastly different from hers, even with a mess of chaotic hairs. Then she recalled that sudden spark of inspiration¡­ It came from here. Otherwise, she wouldn''t have bypassed the palace''s main gate and entered like this. For a moment, the girl''s thoughts were in chaos, a panic she had never felt in her life. When Elder Mu was glanced at by Qing, it was as if he''d been thrown into a vast snowy wasteland, frozen solid, colder than a leaky roof on a winter night. Even his instinctively rising cock wilted, and he dared not sneak another look at Qing''s figure. "Who will win?" After a while, Kai, slumped on the ground, seemed to regain his composure. Propping himself up on the bricks, carefully avoiding the bloody corners, he stood up and was the first to ask. Qing hesitated for a moment and answered truthfully: "I don''t know." In her heart, she hoped her father could win¡­ But as a cultivator, she knew excessive concern for worldly affairs wasn''t good. Her divine sense had already perceived a small but bloody conflict outside the palace. Kai steadied himself, brushed off the dust, and the foul smell seemed to fade with time, whether he had grown used to it or it had truly lessened. "County Princess, no¡­ soon I''ll have to call you Princess. This is the last thing I can do for the late emperor. Please don''t stop me." Now was a critical time, the last moment when Kai still had the power to kill someone. After today, no matter which prince ascended the throne, he, as the late emperor''s confidant, would not be spared. At best, he could retire and wait for death in his hometown; at worst¡­ He might not live to see this year''s first snow. *Is this my opportunity? A whim? Or¡­ an illusion?* Qing glanced at the trembling Elder Mu and gently shook her head. Kai was about to say something when he heard noises from the palace gate, indicating someone had entered. Soon, a group of armored soldiers arrived at Yong Row, and their leader, upon seeing Qing, immediately knelt halfway. "Greetings, Your Highness." "So fast?" Kai smiled. "It seems Ren has won." Those with insight knew that before the emperor''s death, one should wait patiently. Those who bared their fangs too early ended up in the cold palace on one side of the capital or in the frigid north or the venomous, rugged south, their fates uncertain. Only those who stayed low-key, like patient hunters, could stand until the end and join the final struggle. But after the emperor''s death, one had to act swiftly, settling everything quickly to stabilize the realm and prevent chaos. Yet Kai hadn''t expected Ren''s victory to come so fast, before the sky even darkened¡­ he thought it would take until dawn tomorrow. The leader of the imperial guards first saluted Qing, then stood and walked toward Kai. The fully armed soldiers behind him immediately detained the surrounding guards. Kai gave a bitter smile: "Ren, no, His Majesty the Emperor, is so eager to send me on my way?" The leader of the imperial guards didn''t answer, only saying: "I am just following orders." Kai looked regretfully at Elder Mu, the escapee, and said: "This old slave has failed the emperor!" before being taken away. Chapter 6- Qing鈥檚 Inner Turmoil "The young emperor, entrusted by the late emperor, inherits the throne, bearing the hopes of ancestors and the suffering of the people, with great trepidation¡­" The new emperor ascended, granting amnesty to the realm. Bright Hua''s founding emperor, the late Ming, was buried in Zhao Mausoleum, with the temple name Taizu, posthumous title Gao, known as Emperor Taizu Gao. The era name remained unchanged, still using the late emperor''s era name, to be updated in the new year''s court assembly. Ren ascended the throne, and his children were rewarded. He has five sons: three were made county kings, two are too young to be titled yet. His eldest daughter Qing and youngest daughter Li were both made princesses, granted a palace, and countless treasures. Notably, Tao was demoted to a commoner and exiled to the northwest, while Zan was made a general and richly rewarded. It turned out that on the day of the late emperor''s death, Zan had already allied with Marshal Jun to support Ren, swiftly defeating Tao, stabilizing the throne rapidly, so much so that even the common people barely felt the shift in power. Bright Hua''s palace is built along a mountain and river, unlike the flat architectural styles of others. Initially, the founding emperor treated the palace as a fortress, and indeed it was. Before it became the center of the realm, Ming used it as a military stronghold for war and defense. Thanks to this, the palace is constructed around a mountain, with many later-built palaces clinging to the mountainside. The emperor''s sacrificial ceremonies are held at the mountaintop, a design that taxed the ingenuity of the realm''s master craftsmen. After the dynasty was established, major rituals like the heavenly sacrifice were conducted at the peak. The emperor and royals had sedan chairs, but elderly ministers had to climb on foot, exhausting themselves. Over a decade, the ministers adapted to this routine and grew physically stronger, but the founding emperor passed away first. Qing''s palace sits on one side of the mountaintop, quiet and secluded yet beautiful. From there, one can see the entire capital''s scenery. It''s said Ming loved gazing at his vast empire from high places in his leisure time. The palace, called Lian Yue Ju, is small in scale but offers stunning views. Being remote, few maids or eunuchs come here, sparing her from tedious social duties. The emperor knows his eldest daughter''s temperament, preferring peace over noise. *Pluck!* Qing sat alone in the pavilion, playing the zither. Her fair, slender fingers gently plucked the strings, producing a captivating melody. This was a habit from childhood; whenever troubled, she''d sit and play a heart-wrenching tune to calm her mind and spark inspiration. Without using magic, this enchanting music was for her ears alone. It had been two weeks since she moved into the palace. She only asked the Ceremonial Directorate for a few maids to clean the courtyard and palace. The small palace was desolate, like a haunted house in deep mountains, but with her fairy-like aura, it transformed into a peach blossom fairyland from legends. She gazed into the distance, recalling these days. Apart from her father visiting once amidst his busy schedule, it was mostly Li, the mischievous girl, who came, always bouncing and clumsy, never without mentioning "Brother Feng." Feng Wei. He was making waves again. Since refining the Innate Origin Pill and showcasing his extraordinary alchemy talent, he''d become a celebrity sought after by many big figures. With his usual style, wherever he went, trouble followed. Recent events in the capital all tied back to this stubborn, handsome youth. Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Even Marshal Jun, plagued by old injuries, was healed by his pills, and rumors spread of a romantic tale with the marshal''s granddaughter. This was one of Feng Wei''s traits: wherever he went, romantic entanglements followed. For some reason, thinking of this, Qing''s already complicated thoughts grew more chaotic. *Pluck¡­* The zither notes became disordered. Her jade fingers stopped, and Qing rose from the pavilion. Her black hair lifted like silk, falling smoothly on her back. She stood gracefully, like a solitary snow lotus. Her warm, smooth jade neck revealed delicate collarbones, her deep clothes tightly wrapping her high, firm breasts, outlining a perfect curve. The fitted long skirt covered her slender waist and flat, smooth, adorable belly button. The skirt clung to her high, round buttocks, like a jade plate, slightly sinking in, separating two maddeningly perfect peach-like buttocks. Between her tightly closed legs, the secret triangular area was like Pandora''s box, enchanting and mesmerizing. "Master, is this the trouble of experiencing the mortal world?" Qing''s clear, moon-like eyes looked into the distance, and also toward a place she''d been somewhat deliberately avoiding yet caring about these days. Half a month ago, she saved Elder Mu there and left without further attention. Over the past half month, her cultivation bottleneck remained unmoved. No matter how she practiced, she couldn''t break through that intangible barrier. A voice in her heart told her that her opportunity lay in Yong Row¡­ or rather, with Elder Mu. "Experiencing the mortal world to temper the heart, but my heart cannot calm down," Qing murmured, stepping into the void. After the bloody massacre half a month ago, it had been cleaned up, bloodstains removed from the ground and walls. Only some dried, blackened stains spoke of the tragedy from that day. But the palace is the center of the realm, like the ever-changing, indifferent ocean. If you''re eliminated, someone will replace you. Moreover, with the throne''s upheaval, many important figures died, so who cared about these old, frail eunuchs and maids? Within half a month, a new batch of maids and eunuchs were assigned to Yong Row. The emperor distrusted most palace staff and replaced them. The new arrivals were initially frightened by the bloodstains, but after a few days, they settled down, living and crying as before. Yong Row seemed unchanged. The only constant was the dilapidated hut deep in Yong Row, isolated by all. Beyond the foul smell was Elder Mu, half-dead. Many thought he was gone, but this stinky old eunuch would sneak out at midnight to devour leftovers meant for pigs. Elder Mu was so filthy that the new chief eunuch didn''t bother managing him, even wishing he''d die soon to spare the stench. But today, Elder Mu was in a daze. In past days, a mad, extreme voice tormented his mind, but recently, it stopped. Even his frail, dying body had improved. He no longer lay in bed, groaning in pain meaninglessly. But Elder Mu had a new problem. His lower abdomen would swell into something thicker than a fire poker, larger than his arm, so big he couldn''t wear pants. They''d tighten and hurt, even tearing his already ragged hemp pants. Elder Mu lay on the bed, his massive meat rod, thirty centimeters long and seven or eight centimeters thick, resting between his withered legs, looking like a deformed man with three legs. He scratched his castrated scrotum area. Over the past half month, it had swollen like two water bags, itching and heating up. At midnight, he''d hear gurgling sounds and warm water rolling. When the itching subsided, Elder Mu would use his chicken-claw-like fingers to grasp his towering meat rod. His skinny fingers couldn''t even wrap around the thirty-centimeter, seven-to-eight-centimeter-thick cock. Holding it felt like gripping a scalding iron rod. Then, both hands began to stroke, rubbing up and down. This was a skill he''d taught himself over the days. Stroking like this eased the painfully hard meat rod, even bringing a pleasure and comfort he hadn''t felt in years. But dry stroking left him unsatisfied after a long time. Suddenly, he remembered the "princess" he saw half a month ago, the beautiful, pure, fairy-like princess. Recalling her ample breasts, tightly bound by plain clothes, lifted high, round and perfect, making one want to uncover them and explore¡­ And her high, firm, peach-like buttocks, like a ripe yet unripe fruit, with the skirt sinking into the crevice, casting a mesmerizing shadow. Thinking of this, Elder Mu''s heart raced, his breathing quickened, and his stroking grew faster and fiercer. He felt his meat rod harden and heat up, veins throbbing, the large mushroom head trembling, the horse eye opening and closing. "Princess!" The horse eye twitched, but no liquid came out. Elder Mu felt an indescribable pleasure and exhaustion, his body weak, as if he''d reached a blissful state. But it was unsatisfying. He felt hot, sticky liquid rolling in his newly grown testicles but couldn''t ejaculate, preventing true pleasure. Unsatisfied, he continued stroking his slightly softer but still hard meat rod. Chapter 7- Qing鈥檚 Confrontation A fragrant breeze blew in, carrying the scent of blooming flowers and a maiden''s fragrance, somewhat dispelling the room''s foul odor, mixing into a strange, fishy yet fragrant smell. "What are you doing?!!!" A cold voice rang out, piercing with chill and a hint of panic. Elder Mu, startled, looked up from the bed to see the fairy princess he''d been thinking of standing in his room. Her moon-like, clear gaze fixed on him¡­ and his massive, disturbing meat rod that he was stroking. A tingling pleasure surged from Elder Mu''s soles, as if needles pricked his spine, a heavenly itch rushing to his head. "Ahhh! Ahhhh!" Elder Mu couldn''t help but cry out in pleasure, his hands stroking faster than ever, like a farmer frantically pumping water in a dry season. His newborn testicles churned, releasing scorching liquid like a galaxy pouring down, rushing out. "Splurt! Splurt! Splurt!!" Foul-smelling, white, turbid semen shot from the horse eye, so forcefully Elder Mu felt his vas deferens might explode. The newborn, sticky semen ejaculated for the first time, rampant in the air, drawing arcs with its fishy smell and billions of sperm. The target of this ejaculation was none other than Qing, standing before his bed, facing his towering meat rod. "You¡­" Splurt! Like cannonballs, the semen hit Qing''s pretty face, the sticky, foul liquid forcing her to close her mouth and hold her breath. One, two, three streams¡­ Wave after wave landed on her face, hair, and high, embroidered chest, her swan-like white neck, her carefully braided hair¡­ After what seemed an eternity, Qing felt time had stopped, and the fierce ejaculation that pained her face finally ceased. The sticky, manly-smelling semen slid down her face, hair, and chest, staining her hair, long eyelashes, seeping into her clothes, invading her soft skin, entering her nose, an inescapable male scent nearly enveloping her. Qing trembled but stood still, like a jade statue covered in the man''s foul, white semen. "You!" "Are!" "Seeking!" "Death!!!" After a while, feeling the semen on her face solidify, Qing angrily opened her eyes, her killing intent sweeping the hut. The terrifying killing intent turned to frost, freezing the semen on her face and body, icing the room''s corners and coating the broken windows with thin frost. Even covered in thick, white semen, Qing''s fury made her the "Fairy" who could shake the world. Elder Mu felt he''d reached life''s pinnacle, a pleasure he''d never known, but before he could savor it, the chilling killing intent extinguished his desire. Fear took over, his iron-hard meat rod wilting like a frostbitten eggplant. Terrified, he scrambled off the bed, falling to the ground, ignoring the semen he''d shot, and began kowtowing, whimpering: "Spare me! Don''t kill me! Don''t kill me! Wuwuwu¡­" He kowtowed so hard his sparse-haired head turned red and purple, dizzy and nearly fainting. When he cautiously looked up, the figure was gone. Qing took a deep breath, her magic surging, but she redirected it, casting a cleansing spell on herself. The semen on her hair, face, and dress vanished, yet she could still feel that man''s lingering scent in her nose. ¡­ In the misty bathroom, steam rising, Qing lay naked in the large bathtub. This was the first time since achieving the foundation stage at ten, reaching a state of purity, that she urgently wanted to bathe. Usually, it was just occasional whims or a girl''s natural cleanliness. Her slender, jade-like fingers lifted, bringing up sliding water droplets, crystal clear on her skin like golden glazed tiles. But as she gently placed her hand on her snow-white, dazzling, firm breasts, half-submerged in water, her tight, perky breasts remained upright, unlike those sagging with age. They stood tight and high, like mountain peaks in the mist. Her black hair floated on the water, covering her exquisite body beneath the rippling waves. Though clean, she washed repeatedly, as if trying to remove something invisible. After a while, Qing leaned against the tub, closing her eyes, trying to empty her mind. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. But closing her eyes, she saw only that powerful ejaculation hitting her face, the foul, sticky semen sliding from her brow to her perky nipples, down her clothes, into her cute belly button, and even through her underwear. The wet feeling¡­ was it just the man''s semen? Qing looked at her neatly folded clothes, with her underwear on top. The white silk underwear carried a strong fragrance, like spring flowers, as if the nectar couldn''t wait for bees and gently released sweet, fragrant honey. She didn''t know and didn''t dare to know. The path to immortality is long; emotions are poison, desires cloud the mind, leading to sinking in the sea of suffering. But she was not yet an "immortal." Her slender, white fingers slid along the water, from her firm breasts down her flat, smooth abdomen, then¡­ her fingers lightly touched her never-before-thought-of private area. "Mm¡­" Her fingers recoiled as if shocked, her body tensing. She didn''t dare touch again, afraid of becoming something unfamiliar to herself. A butterfly flew in from the window, hovering in the steamy bathroom, drawn by the floral scent. In the bathroom, mist swirled, flowers bloomed, like a fairyland. ¡­ #### Golden Lotus Hall Golden Lotus Hall is the capital''s most popular casino and pleasure house, where nobles and wealthy merchants spend lavishly. It thrives in both legal and illegal realms, untouchable even by powerful outsiders due to its deep roots in the capital. "All in!" Feng Wei sat casually at the gambling table, glanced once, and pushed all his chips to the leopard spot. This drew everyone''s attention. Feng Wei didn''t care, didn''t even look at the dice, just tapped the table: "Mine, thank you." The dice revealed three sixes, leopard, winner takes all. "Sir, you''ve won three million taels. You can go upstairs now." Feng Wei smiled, took his chip box, and strolled upstairs, looking at ease, envied by others. "I''ll bet on leopard too!" A familiar voice from behind made Feng Wei pause. He turned to see a short, handsome boy with fair skin and red lips at his former spot, pulling out an eye-popping amount of chips and betting on leopard. Feng Wei quickly stepped down, grabbed the boy''s ear, making him flail. "This is my brother, just joking¡­ this round doesn''t count." Feng Wei smiled awkwardly, reaching for the chips. "Hey, hey!" The dealer tapped the table. "Once bet, it''s final. The round has started." "This¡­" Feng Wei glared at the boy. "I''ll deal with you later." The boy blinked and stuck out his tongue innocently. "Sigh, then open it." Feng Wei seemed heartbroken, as if he''d lost big. This delighted the dealer, who''d been toyed with. While opening the dice, he said seriously: "Sir, winning and losing are both part of fortune." "I don''t believe it!" Feng Wei''s anxious expression calmed, he took back the chips, and tapped the table: "I like to win it all. Pay up." "What?" The dealer saw it was still three sixes, shocked, nearly accusing Feng Wei of cheating. But in Golden Lotus Hall, there are only caught cheaters, not accused ones. The dealer cheated too, but Feng Wei was better, flawless. Without evidence, accusing him would cost the dealer''s hand and an apology. The dealer could only tremble as he paid out years of cheated winnings. Feng Wei whistled, took the chips, and dragged the boy to the top floor, where it was empty. He pinched the ''boy''s'' face and scolded: "My princess, no, now it''s Your Highness! Why did you sneak out again? And to a place like this." "Ouch!" The ''boy'' winced, then grinned: "Brother Feng, didn''t you say you''d take me to fun places? This is pretty good." "Good my foot!" This was Li, the new emperor''s beloved youngest princess. Feng Wei was frustrated. His plan was ruined, and now he had to protect this wild princess, or if anything happened, the emperor would surely execute him. "You know, today''s casino has the Demon Sect''s Gambling Prince!" The Demon Sect''s three princes specialize in vice: gambling, poison, and more. Last time at Sky Rift Valley, Feng Wei nearly died from the Poison Prince''s toxins, saved only by Miss Xiao''s help. Now, he had a chance to catch one alone and teach him a lesson. The Gambling Prince loved gambling but had terrible sportsmanship: losing meant flipping the table and killing; winning meant killing the whole family. This time, he came to Golden Lotus Hall alone, either for Demon Sect business or his gambling addiction. Either way, Feng Wei had to intervene, at least to make him remember and peel a layer off him. But with this burden, Feng Wei could only plan to escape first. "Where do you think they''ll meet or do their business? Somewhere with few people?" Suddenly, Li blinked and whispered. "Of course, somewhere with few people¡­ wait?" The emptiest place in Golden Lotus Hall was this top floor. Feng Wei''s divine sense stirred, and he quickly covered Li''s mouth, pulled her into his arms, and rolled into the floor''s crevice. After a long time, two barely audible footsteps appeared, one after the other, a blink apart, detectable only by the wind''s ripples. "Too slow, I''ve lost eight rounds. If you didn''t come soon¡­" One man complained; Feng Wei recognized him as the Gambling Prince he''d dealt with for half a year. "You''d lose the ninth round?" The other man''s voice was older, steady, somewhat familiar, with a playful tone. "No, I''d start a massacre!" The Gambling Prince said calmly. "But you can''t, can you?" the older man said. "No, you don''t understand me. To make me risk coming to the capital¡­" The Gambling Prince shook his head, then said something that made the two in the crevice widen their eyes. "Is our Tao finally willing to cooperate with us?" Uncle Tao?!! Li almost exclaimed, but Feng Wei hugged her tighter, their faces close, fingers on their lips, so close they could feel each other''s breath. Feng Wei didn''t notice how ambiguous their position was. The usually mischievous Li was unusually quiet, her face flushed, ears red like peach blossoms, leaning against Feng Wei''s chest, hearing his strong heartbeat, feeling the masculine scent. It made the girl, never so close to a man, feel her heart flutter, obediently silent. *So this is a man''s scent¡­* Li was so dazed she didn''t hear the rest. In her mind, she thought of Qing''s face. This made her hug Feng Wei''s waist tighter, so tight Feng Wei felt a bit of pain, but he thought it was her shock and fear from the news. Li didn''t speak, just leaned on Feng Wei''s chest, with one thought in her mind. *Sister, have you ever been hugged by Brother Feng like this?* Li thought, with her sister''s personality, probably not. This gave her a thrill and a strange pleasure she didn''t even notice. After the two left, half an hour passed before Feng Wei, holding Li, flipped back to the top floor, repeatedly confirming they were gone, then sighed: "I didn''t expect Tao to be part of the Demon Sect, and he''s back in the capital despite being exiled." But this was too serious for Feng Wei to handle alone. He looked seriously at Li, still dazed, and said: "Li, thank you for reminding me; otherwise, I wouldn''t have gotten such important information." "Oh¡­ oh?" Li, still in a daze, showed a silly yet cute smile. Her face, similar to Qing''s, bloomed like a flower, stunningly beautiful. Feng Wei''s heart raced, and he looked away, toward the palace on the mountaintop, his eyes wandering. *If only Qing could smile like that.* Chapter 8- Elder mu Half a month had passed. The sun shone high in the sky, casting its light on Elder Mu''s exposed buttocks. His aged rear was covered in wrinkles, with a ring of black hair surrounding his anus. His thighs bore several uneven dark spots, resembling an old, worn-out mangy dog. Opening his cloudy eyes, Elder Mu''s gaze fell upon a towering, fiery red erection, standing like a massive pillar. Morning wood brought him unparalleled vitality and energy. This fearsome purplish-red shaft was wrapped in bulging veins, its swollen head pulsing rhythmically, the slit occasionally leaking a slick, oddly scented clear fluid. Elder Mu scratched at his two heavy, blackened sacks with both hands. Over the past few days, they had grown larger than a strong man''s fist, far surpassing the size of goose eggs, almost reaching the legendary proportions of dragon balls. His semen production was terrifyingly prolific. Raising his head, Elder Mu looked at the ceiling, where sticky, thread-like clumps of thick white fluid hung in strands. The floor was littered with pools and pits of ejaculate, the pungent stench mingling with the room''s pervasive rot to create a dizzying, lust-inducing miasma. In recent days, Elder Mu had found his source of joy in a delirious haze: furiously stroking his monstrous earthly python. After half an hour of relentless rubbing, the shaft would swell even further, becoming grotesque and menacing. At climax, it could reach over thirty centimeters in length and ten in girth. "Ugh! Ohhh¡­ ah¡­ ah¡­ ah¡­" Elder Mu worked himself into a frenzy, his dry, claw-like, filth-stained fingers gripping the massive rod as he reached the pinnacle of ecstasy. The veins bulged grotesquely, the tubes ached with pressure, and the slit erupted like a cannon, firing its load. A torrent of semen, as if it were raining, slammed into the ceiling. The viscous white sludge slid down in strings, creating a spectacular scene of a semen shower within the room. The ejaculate carried a foul odor, pooling on the floor into a sizable lake. The sheer volume surpassed that of livestock like pigs or horses, each release equivalent to nearly a bucket of water. After ejaculation, his oversized sacks would shrink slightly, only to replenish at an unbelievable rate, swelling back to full, taut water balloons within half an hour. Post-climax, Elder Mu would lie on the bed, panting lightly, basking in comfortable satisfaction. It was fortunate that Yong Row was as desolate as a graveyard, and his hidden dwelling was so remote and neglected that no one bothered with it. He knew he was despised, not daring to venture out during the day, only scavenging leftovers in the dead of night. If the palace ever discovered that a shriveled, eighty-year-old eunuch, seemingly on death''s door, possessed a jaw-droppingly massive cock and a pair of regrown, goose-egg-sized balls¡­ Not only would Elder Mu face a fate worse than death, but half the palace, men and women alike, would likely perish alongside him. Having vented his morning restlessness, his semi-soft shaft drooped slightly as he sat in a daze. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. In Elder Mu''s limited worldview, there had only been strange voices and pain. But ever since that "fairy" appeared, the torment ceased, replaced by waves of unprecedented pleasure. Qing''s flawless, jade-like beauty, her cool voice, and piercing gaze; the delicate, sculpted collarbone peeking from her long robes; the faint outline of her high, firm breasts beneath her elegant neck¡­ And the final image in his mind: Qing drenched in semen, the thick white fluid coating her face like a mask, her cascading hair speckled with droplets, her slender dress clinging wetly to her body, accentuating every alluring curve¡­ A fire ignited in Elder Mu''s lower abdomen. His once-drooping shaft surged back to life, pointing fiercely skyward, as if eager to pierce the semen-stained ceiling and unleash itself toward the fairy princess. "Fairy! Princess!" "Heh heh heh¡­" His eyes glazed over, lost in fantasy as he vigorously stroked his monstrous cock. Unbeknownst to him, the object of his obsession was, at that very moment, standing atop the highest peak of the imperial city, eyes closed, struggling to clear her mind and enter a meditative state, failing time and again. Qing stood gracefully atop a massive boulder on the city''s highest mountain. Her plain white gown and dark inner robe accentuated her lithe, elegant figure. The mountain breeze gently lifted the hem of her skirt, revealing a glimpse of her ivory-carved calves, flawless, without a trace of excess, a natural perfection that seemed divinely crafted. Her mere presence was enough to make others feel inferior. The wind tousled her dark hair, a single strand swaying in the breeze, mirroring her turbulent state of mind. Her moon-bright eyes seemed unfocused. Though she gazed into the distance, her beautiful pupils were hazy, her thoughts elsewhere. For days, she had felt trapped in a cage, her mind a tangled web of complexity. Yet, there was no sign of losing control to inner demons. Her cultivation had even stabilized further, too stabilized, in fact, leaving her unable to glimpse any hope of a breakthrough. Qing realized she had hit a "bottleneck." Without a revelation in her state of mind, her cultivation would stagnate forever. For a seeker of the Dao like Qing, this was worse than death. The ancients said, "To hear the Dao in the morning, one may die content by evening." This was why her master and sect had sent her down the mountain to temper her heart. Secluding herself in misty forests would only waste her talent and halt her progress. Now, facing this bottleneck, Qing''s thoughts were a chaotic mess, her spiritual sense wavering¡­ To break through this confusion on her own, she had tried for so long, only to sink deeper without a shred of progress. She would need external help. The first person who came to Qing''s mind was a stubborn yet resolute young man with unwavering eyes, Feng. But then, inexplicably¡­ Her thoughts drifted to that decrepit room, the stench-ridden bed, and the skeletal, filthy, lecherous Elder Mu¡­ For the first time in years, she felt the walls of her cultivation barrier loosen. Yet Qing believed Feng was the one her heart truly favored. Elder Mu was just a fleeting, foam-like dream, best left to drift away with the wind. Resolved, Qing cast her gaze beyond the imperial city, ready to step into the void. "Sister! Sister!" Li''s voice rang out from below the boulder. The little imp was brimming with excitement today, a gaggle of eunuchs and maids trailing behind, shouting "Little Ancestor," unable to keep up with her pace. With a light tap, Qing floated down gracefully, landing before Li like a descending fairy. She gently smoothed Li''s hair, her demeanor calm and tender. She didn''t want her younger sister to know of her current struggles, it would only burden her with unnecessary worry. Seeing the exhausted eunuchs and maids finally catch up, Qing waved them off before they could catch their breath. "I''m here. You may leave." With the eldest princess present, the servants sighed in relief. In the entire palace, only the emperor, empress, and this elder sister could rein in the mischievous Li. The lead eunuch apologized and led the group back down the mountain. Thankfully, the descent was easier, or they might have collapsed. Atop the peak, only the two princesses remained, one tall, one small. Their radiant smiles outshone the blooming flowers of the mountain. Who could rival their beauty? Chapter 9- Hidden Truth "Sister! Sister!" Li giggled mid-tease, then blinked with a proud grin. "Guess what I found out today?" "What?" Qing asked, smoothing Li''s wind-tousled hair absentmindedly. "Our ninth uncle, Prince Tao! He¡­ he''s with the Demon Sect!" Li puffed out her budding chest triumphantly. "Feng and I figured it out together. Pretty impressive, right?" Qing''s hand froze mid-stroke, as if shocked by static, then resumed as if nothing happened. "You left the palace today? With¡­ Feng?" "Yeah! We even hit the casino, it was so much fun¡­ Oh, don''t tell Father, please!" Li didn''t notice Qing''s lack of interest in Prince Tao. She recalled moments at Golden Lotus Hall, Feng pinching her cheeks, hanging upside down in the rafters, his warm, broad embrace. A shy, cherry-blossom blush bloomed on her youthful face. Qing watched Li''s genuine joy and unfeigned smile, falling silent for a moment. When she spoke, her tone softened, like melting snow. "Next time you want to leave the palace, don''t sneak out. Come to me, I''ll take you." "Really?" Li''s eyes lit up. Her usually strict, father-like sister was being unusually lenient. She smirked inwardly. *Mentioning Feng sure makes Sister gentle¡­ She must like him¡­* A pang of sadness flickered in Li''s heart, but she masked it, testing further. "Can Feng come too?" A sour twinge stirred in Qing''s chest, a chaotic mix of emotions she couldn''t name¡­ But she remained composed. "Of course. You can play as long as you like." "Yay! You''re the best, Sister!" Li leapt from Qing''s arms, planting a quick kiss on her cheek. Seeing Li so happy, Qing smiled too, though how much of it was joy, only she knew¡­ "Where is he now?" Qing had a plan. Perhaps it was time to ask Feng how he viewed Li¡­ or rather, to seek an answer that would ease her heart. "Um!" Li scratched her head, recalling where Feng had gone after they parted. "Grandpa Jun''s place." Marshal Jun¡­ or someone else? Qing''s thoughts grew muddled. She escorted Li back to the palace, then wandered the mountain alone, hesitating. Should she go or not? Perhaps she hadn''t noticed how much more worry and sorrow she carried since descending the mountain¡­ But Qing wasn''t one to waver endlessly. "Achoo! Achoo!" In the imperial city, the young man both women couldn''t forget sat in a grand, secluded estate. Amid meticulously tended scenery, lush bamboo groves, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves, a small herb garden with rare plants thriving in fertile soil, and a clear stream winding from a rockery, the setting stood out as a breath of fresh air amid the city''s opulence. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. The handsome youth sneezed twice, slightly disrupting the serene ambiance. "Big Brother Feng?" A soft, ethereal voice, like a breeze through a valley, sounded beside him. Feng sniffled and grinned. "It''s nothing. Probably some rat cursing me again." "The more they curse, the better I''m doing. I''d love for them to keep it up!" He was a storm wherever he went, friends and benefactors across the land, enemies wishing him dead in equal measure. Feng watched the girl in green tending the precious herbs with a small hoe. Her light inner robe and pale green outer dress complemented her dark, neatly pinned hair. A stray lock framed her smooth, exquisitely carved face. Unlike Li''s playful spark or Qing''s icy nobility, her gentle eyes were like autumn waters, softer than the clouds above. While Qing''s beauty was untouchable, like a snow lotus atop a peak, this girl was a lily swaying on a cliffside, quietly captivating. Her figure, though less statuesque than Qing''s golden proportions, had a delicate charm: a modest chest, taut and perky; a waist so slender it evoked spring willows; long legs faintly visible beneath her fitted skirt, paired with full, rounded hips. This was Marshal Jun''s beloved granddaughter, the direct disciple of the Medicine God Valley''s "Holy Hand," Suya. Their meeting traced back to a plague. A corrupt magistrate, a spy of the Demon Sect''s Poison Faction, had infiltrated the new Bright Hua government, orchestrating a devastating outbreak. Had Feng and others not uncovered it early¡­ The plague might have ravaged far beyond a single region. That was when Feng first met Suya¡­ Since then, many incidents had followed, including the battle at Sky Rift Valley. Feng had fallen into a poison abyss, and without Suya risking her life to save him, he''d have perished. "Hehe!" Suya giggled at Feng''s cheeky words, her delicate laugh tinged with a frail beauty that outshone the elegant greenery. After a moment, she asked, "Big Brother Feng, what brings you to the Jun residence today?" Her calm tone carried a faint, girlish hint of longing¡­ "Prince Tao''s matter, I came to discuss it with Marshal Jun. And¡­" Feng paused, "to see you." "Liar¡­" Suya pouted playfully, her eyes crescent moons, though her brows furrowed as she coughed lightly, her fragile frame trembling. The hoe slipped from her hand, and she nearly fell. "Suya!" Feng darted to her side, catching her in his arms and patting her back gently as she coughed. His rough palm brushed her smooth, flawless back through her clothes, her fragrance and softness stirring his heart. With Feng''s care, Suya recovered, only to blush at their closeness. Her face glowed like sunset clouds, intoxicatingly beautiful. "Sorry! It''s my fault." Seeing Suya''s frailty, Feng blamed himself. Had she not saved him, she wouldn''t have absorbed so much poison. Even with her medical skill and her master''s aid, the deep toxin lingered in her body. That kindly old man from Medicine God Valley had never given Feng a warm look since. Feng''s passion for alchemy stemmed largely from Suya''s condition. Seeing the usually confident boy so guilt-ridden, Suya smiled for reasons she couldn''t name. She smoothed his furrowed brow with her delicate hand. "It''s not your fault. I chose this." What could Feng say to such a woman? The hardest debt to bear is a beauty''s grace. Unable to resist, he pulled Suya into a tight embrace. Her virgin scent enveloped him, leaving him speechless. In the herb garden, the handsome youth and stunning girl held each other, a scene too beautiful to disturb. Neither noticed a cold, moon-like figure watching from the rooftop beyond the courtyard. When she arrived or left, no one knew¡­ Only a breeze carried away her complex emotions. Elsewhere in the Jun residence, two older men played chess in a redwood pavilion. A half-graying man tapped the board, placing a piece. "Hey, aren''t you going to do something?" The white-haired elder, with fierce tiger-like eyes, placed a black piece. "A grown daughter can''t be kept. Besides¡­ a prince consort''s no good match. That kid suits my taste." "A son-in-law''s no picnic either!" The middle-aged man countered, locking the black pieces in a trap, crumbling their formation. "Can''t you go easy on a poor old man?" The elder held a black piece, then flipped the board in a huff. "You''re Bright Hua''s Black Tortoise Army Marshal. A country bumpkin like me has to give his all to show respect." The man smiled, unbothered, picking up the scattered pieces. Marshal Jun had fought alongside Emperor Ming, undefeated in nine battles, a legend across the land. His Black Tortoise Army outshone the other three elite forces, striking fear into foes and traitors alike¡­ Chapter 10- Shadow of Desire In his youth, Marshal Jun had been fiery and brash, a true soldier. Though tempered by age, old habits, like being a terrible yet avid chess player, remained. He hated being let win but flipped the board when he lost. "Besides, I''ve got plenty of grandsons. Why force him to marry in?" Marshal Jun said slowly, sidestepping the earlier question. "Heh!" The man chuckled, changing the subject. He tapped the stone table. "What about Prince Tao?" Prince Tao''s ties to the Demon Sect were known to few, but the stakes were high, potentially affecting the court and the righteous sects. If even Prince Tao was involved, who else in the family might be? The new emperor knew, but his stance? That''d take days to clarify. Marshal Jun scoffed. "If he wants dignity, give it to him. If not? Let him explain himself to Emperor Ming." The middle-aged man sighed. Expecting nuance from this old brute was his mistake. Qing wandered the outer imperial city, distracted. The palace, designed by a master of old, gleamed with red eaves and golden splendor, a testament to Bright Hua''s rise. Yet traces of its origins as a mountainside fortress lingered: bunkers at the base, cannon scars amid the gardens. The inner city was the original stronghold; the outer, a later expansion. Emperor Ming had moved his court and harem here for comfort, with the grand hall for morning assemblies just past the Black Tortoise Gate. Palace staff knelt and hailed Qing as she passed, but she disliked the reverence, it distanced her from the Dao. Casting a subtle illusion to lower her presence, she avoided their attention. Her mind flashed to Li''s joyful smile when speaking of Feng, then to the embrace she''d witnessed at the Jun residence. She knew Marshal Jun had meant for her to see it. He could''ve welcomed her formally but instead guided her to that rooftop view. Qing didn''t resent him; she just felt a strange tightness in her chest recalling Feng and Suya''s embrace, a new, unfamiliar sensation. Lost in thought, she found herself at Yong Row. She stopped before that foul, dilapidated house, stunned. Why had she come here? Yong Row was desolate, Elder Mu''s shack even more so. The stench was unbearable, no one would check if he died and rotted away. For Elder Mu, though, it was his sanctuary. He awoke as usual, his towering erection in hand, rubbing his grimy, blackened balls. His groin was a mess of black and graying hair, his pockmarked sack a mix of decay and vigor. Per routine, he fantasized about the fairy princess while stroking, ready to release a night''s worth of pent-up seed. The thick shaft rose, its slit oozing sticky fluid, lubricating his fingers. The wet "squelch" filled the air as the glistening, red-hot rod swelled, its purple head like a dragon emerging from lava. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. In his haze, Elder Mu saw her, his dream, his terror, his desire. Even recalling her murderous glare sent shivers of fear and ecstasy through him, driving him mad. "Princess! Fairy! Princess¡­" He whimpered, stroking faster, his breathing ragged. His tattered shirt couldn''t hide his bony, wrinkled chest, ribs stark against sagging, spotted skin, an ugly, nauseating sight. "Knock knock!" A sudden rap at the door jolted him like lightning. His raging cock wilted with his courage. Clutching his filthy, yellowed blanket, he curled up, trembling. "Wuu¡­ don''t kill me, don''t kill me¡­" His cowardly sobs leaked from the covers, his claw-like fingers gripping the rag tight, pleading pitifully. Outside, the visitor paused, frowning at the intensified male musk, a mix of hormones and years of rot, oddly lascivious. Wiser from last time, Qing didn''t step inside. Yet her cheeks flushed instinctively, her calm heart rippling. Her pulse quickened beyond expectation, stirring her wavering resolve into something vague and bizarre. *Since things with Feng have come to this¡­* Why not use Elder Mu to break her illusions? She wouldn''t admit it, but seeing Feng with his confidantes had already thrown her heart into chaos. Hearing Elder Mu''s whimpers, Qing reached for the door, then hesitated, recalling her last visit, drenched in hot, thick semen, the stench overwhelming her senses. But then Feng''s peaceful smile with Suya flashed in her mind. Gritting her teeth, she pushed the door open. A wave of stench, hundreds of times worse than before, hit her. Her ears burned, her racing heart sped up, and even her steady breathing grew shallow. The room was a disaster, pools of semen on the floor, streaks of dried and wet seed on the ceiling, beams, and walls. Qing''s body heated inexplicably. Why? Since reaching the Flawless Realm, her body had been perfected, free of impurities. She''d never experienced the monthly cycles her teasing sect sisters giggled about. Beyond some vague Daoist texts on yin-yang union, Qing was a blank slate about love and lust. At Xian Sect, no man dared approach the god-gifted fairy. "Get up. I''m not here to kill you." Adjusting her breath, careful not to inhale too deeply the foul, lascivious air, Qing spoke softly, seeing Elder Mu cowering on his bed. Hearing that angelic voice he adored, Elder Mu forgot his fear, throwing off the blanket. He sat up, chest bare, staring at the girl before him with cloudy eyes. "P-Princess¡­ F-Fairy¡­" His wrinkled face lit up with unfeigned joy, like a child beholding the world''s greatest treasure, his hoarse voice stammering. Seeing such pure delight on his repulsive face, Qing felt conflicted. She wasn''t shallow, beauty or ugliness meant nothing before the Dao. But she instinctively recoiled from the aimless desire and decayed stagnation in people like him, the fate a cultivator with a heart for the Dao dreaded most. Elder Mu reeked of twilight, like a forgotten grave, yet bore a simplicity that even Qing couldn''t ignore, a twisted, natural complexity. She didn''t know his past, but it made her think of herself¡­ Since descending the mountain, her mind had grown heavy, her thoughts tangled, lacking the purity Elder Mu somehow retained. Though warped¡­ As she mused, the thick scent and rising heat flustered her, clashing with her senses. *What am I thinking? Why am I here¡­* Before she could sink deeper, her gaze caught Elder Mu''s sagging thighs, and the monstrous thing between them, rising hard and hot, a python ready to strike. "Shameless! Vile!" Pure as paper in matters of desire, she snapped instinctively. Unaware, a flush crept up her swan-like neck, tinting her moon-cool face and delicate ears. Elder Mu''s eyes widened. Even a true eunuch would stir at this, let alone his altered body, its surging lust overwhelming. His hairy, grotesque cock swelled to its full thirty-plus centimeters, veins throbbing, standing unaided, roaring at the fairy, its purple head leaking fresh, lewd fluid. Faced with this horror, the inexperienced fairy stepped back, suppressing a strange restlessness. She recited a calming mantra, regaining her cool, moon-bright gaze. "¡­I''m leaving." She spoke flatly, avoiding his gaze and the iron-like rod, turning to go. "¡­Pretend I was never here." Why had she added that? Her steps quickened, almost fleeing. Elder Mu gaped as the door swung open, a breeze cutting through the miasma, carrying away her faint fragrance, virginal and rich. Chapter 11- The Price of Power The grand red lacquer coated the massive beams, each several times larger than a person, adorned with gilded dragon sculptures that coiled around them, vivid and lifelike. The palace gates stood wide open, flanked by motionless eunuchs who bowed their heads in servitude. From the entrance to the layered steps, a luxurious and extravagant carpet stretched across the ground. On either side of the carpet stood enormous bronze incense burners, their fires releasing wisps of fragrant smoke meant to sharpen the mind and awaken the senses. Dressed in a vermilion robe, the new emperor sat reviewing memorials. His face, marked by deep cunning and unshakable composure, remained expressionless and silent, causing the attending eunuchs to lower their heads even further. With a vermilion brush, he annotated the memorials. Rising from Prince Ren to Emperor, it was not merely a change in title or status; power was the true intoxicant. After finishing the final memorial, Ren set down his brush, allowing the attending eunuch to solemnly place it into a locked cabinet. Only then did a trace of weariness flicker across his face. His victory had come swiftly, and he was no simple figure. Endowed with natural brilliance and profound shrewdness, he had sensed something amiss with the founding emperor, Ming, even during his prime. Ming, a figure of martial valor and apparent omniscience, seemed benevolent and generous toward the crown prince and the succession. Yet beneath that facade lay a man who would never relinquish power, a ruthless soul who spared no one, not even kin, for the sake of control. Recognizing this, Ren had bided his time, keeping a low profile while quietly amassing wealth and influence. Now, with a decisive strike, he had secured the throne and stabilized the realm. A change in imperial rule meant more than just a new emperor and new courtiers; it was an invisible political war, one far more grueling than facing his younger brother, Tao, on the battlefield. At the thought of Tao, the defeated yet defiant "good brother," a shadow crossed Ren''s face. Tao had colluded with the demonic sects. Ren had long known that contenders for the throne were backed by various factions; he himself was no exception. He had sent his eldest daughter, Qing, to the Xian Sect, partly because she was born with an aura of immortality and divine talent, and partly to forge covert ties with the righteous sects, exchanging subtle gestures of alliance. If he could do so, it was hardly surprising that Tao would consort with the demonic sects. But "suspected collusion" and "proven collusion" were worlds apart, especially now that Ren had emerged victorious. Were it not for his desire to present himself to the world as a "benevolent, brotherly" ruler, he would have long since sent Tao to join their father, Ming, in the afterlife. He had even considered that, should Tao ever settle down peacefully, he would still arrange a quiet end, perhaps "succumbing to illness from unfit water and soil." But it seemed Tao was more impatient than he was, fleeing back to the capital midway through his reassignment to a fief. The matter was neither trivial nor grave. On a small scale, it was a family disgrace, giving Ren the perfect excuse to execute Tao under the guise of "righteous fratricide," shedding crocodile tears as he did so. On a larger scale, it strained the trust between the righteous sects and the court. If Tao could consort with the demonic sects, why not the emperor? Why not the court itself? The righteous sects stood aloof from worldly affairs, boasting ancestors who had truly ascended to immortality. Any conflict with the court would leave both sides devastated. The new dynasty''s dragon aura rose like the dawn, and as emperor, Ren was shielded by the will of millions, a human sovereign of the mortal path. Bound by the clash between dragon aura and immortal qi, he could not pursue longevity, but even a true immortal descending from the heavens could not harm him. Yet without the support of the righteous sects, ruling Bright Hua would become an arduous task. Ming, the time-traveling founding emperor, had once sought to cast off the immortal sects and govern alone, only to discover that in a world teeming with demons, ghosts, and malevolent spirits, such cultivators were indispensable. In the end, he had compromised. Without the righteous sects, the emperor''s throne would tremble. "Sigh¡­" At that moment, Ren thought of his eldest daughter, Qing, now a direct disciple of the Xian Sect. He turned to his trusted new chief eunuch, Qian, and asked, "Where is the eldest princess?" Qian, who had replaced Ming''s appointee, Kai Sun, had served Ren loyally since his days as the fourth prince, then Prince Ren, and now emperor. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. At the emperor''s question, Qian bowed his head and replied, "The eldest princess visited Marshal Jun''s residence. She seemed upset. She''s been wandering the palace and even went to Yong Row¡­" "That old man, he doesn''t even give me a face!" Ren immediately guessed that Qing had clashed with Marshal Jun. He chuckled and cursed lightly. Qian dared not respond. The emperor could joke about Marshal Jun, but he could not. Ren then frowned and asked, "Yong Row? The place where Kai Sun, under Ming''s decree, carried out the killings?" Kai Sun had slaughtered over a hundred people in the palace; a eunuch wouldn''t dare spill blood there without Ming''s explicit command. But why had Ming ordered the massacre of that group of old, weak, and infirm just before his death? Was there a deeper reason? "Master, shall I investigate?" Qian asked in a soft, cautious tone. Ren pondered for a moment before replying, "No need. Ming was gravely ill; such a decree might have been issued in a delirious dream. Or perhaps Kai Sun fabricated it¡­" Though he said this, Qian knew Ren harbored resentment toward Ming. Ming had exiled the eldest prince to the frontier, "killed" the second prince in the southern province under the guise of illness, and stripped the third prince of his title for "treason," executing his followers and confining his wife and children to the cold palace. As the fourth prince, Ren had been the monkey in Ming''s "kill the chicken to scare the monkey" game. Even rabbits mourn their kin; how much more so for brothers? During those days, Qian knew Ren had lived in constant fear, outwardly gentle and compliant by day, trembling in dread by night, terrified of being caught by the increasingly tyrannical Ming in his later years. Now that he had outlasted it all, to say he bore no grudge would be a lie. Any bond between father and son had long eroded. Thus, when Ren spoke, Qian lowered his gaze in obedience. As the chief eunuch, he was merely the emperor''s servant. To survive long, he followed orders unquestioningly. Unlike civil officials or martial nobles, tied to vast interest groups, a servant was disposable; Ren could remove one with ease. Kai Sun was proof of that. Compared to whatever Tao might be plotting, Ren faced a more pressing issue, one that truly gave him a headache. The treasury was empty. By all accounts, a newborn dynasty should be vibrant, perhaps not overflowing with talent or pristine in governance, but at least brimming with energy and a full treasury. The blame lay with Ming. A formidable founding emperor, he was both a martial and literary genius, with grand ambitions: subduing the southwestern tribes, conquering the northern barbarians, reopening the western regions, and commanding tribute from eastern nations. The world marveled, and the people swelled with pride, exuding the air of a supreme nation. But the cost was astronomical military spending, with the treasury''s expenditures climbing year after year. In his youth, Ming had balanced this with care for the people, enduring for the nation''s sake. In his middle and later years, however, he grew willful, launching wars at the slightest provocation. Fortunately, Ming knew how to sustain wars with plunder and bolster commerce. In just over thirty years, Bright Hua''s army swelled to the peak of the previous dynasty, without leaving the people starving. The treasury wasn''t yet so bare that rats roamed it, but it was depleted enough to force Ren to scale back even his coronation ceremony. "Where''s the head of the Gold Yuan Chamber?" Ren asked. Ming had placed great emphasis on commerce, nurturing trade guilds and merchants as his personal coffers, occasionally extorting them to refill the treasury with considerable success. These merchants, though constantly squeezed by the crown, were fat sheep before imperial power. Many were butchered by the increasingly volatile Ming in his later years. Yet as long as profit beckoned, they''d bite even the poisoned bait laced with honey, risking ruin and execution. The Gold Yuan Chamber stood out among them. Wealthy and well-connected, they met Ming''s excessive demands diligently, bleeding heavily to curry favor. Far from fading, they had grown into a colossal trade empire spanning the nine provinces. Desperate for funds, Ren couldn''t overlook his father''s moneybag. "In the capital¡­ visiting brothels," Qian replied. As Ren''s eyes into the shadows, Qian had countless informants in the capital and knew well what the chamber''s head was up to. "A lecher?" Ren mused, his frown easing. As emperor, he didn''t fear wealthy men with clear desires, only those with power and wealth yet no apparent wants, inscrutable and unpredictable. Merchants who hid every flaw and left no leverage couldn''t ease the paranoid, temperamental Ming in his later years; their heads rolled. But the Gold Yuan Chamber, with its dirty origins and willingly bared vulnerabilities, had thrived under Ming''s grip. They''d even aligned with Ren during the succession struggle, providing much of the wealth he used to win hearts as Prince Ren. "The righteous sects¡­" Thinking of dealing with those lofty cultivators again, Ren felt a headache brewing, tempted to summon Qing for advice. But then he recalled Qing''s tangled emotions with Feng Wei, and the messes that boy kept stirring. Feng had exposed Tao''s ties to the demonic sects and his flight back to the capital. Ren knew of Feng''s ambiguous bond with Suya Jun, too. Marshal Jun, ever forthright, openly praised Feng, not just for healing his old wounds but for the widely known affection his granddaughter bore him, a topic buzzing through the capital. Qing''s foul mood likely stemmed from that old man deliberately riling her up. "Once a daughter grows up, she won''t stay!" Ren sighed at the thought, but unlike the magnanimous Marshal Jun, he felt more a pang of dismay, like his pristine cabbage was about to be rooted up by a wild boar from the hills. "Li is better, Li is good!" Compared to Qing, who''d left home young to cultivate and returned only every few years, Ren naturally dotted more on his youngest daughter. Qian watched the wistful emperor, hesitating to speak. He knew Li skipped lessons regularly, far from obedient, always tormenting servants and sneaking out to roam the streets every few days. But could Qian tell Ren the truth? No. Ren knew it all anyway. He''d fume and punish Li for a few days, but once his anger faded, she''d remain his darling. Anyone who snitched, however, might not fare so well. A charge of "sowing discord in the imperial family" could ruin anyone. ----- Read 10 chapters in advance on Patreon: ?? [patreon.com/VOXI1] Chapter 12- Shadow of Heart As time slipped by and the sun dipped below the horizon, Ren rose to dine after a brief rest. "Majesty¡­ shall we go to the empress''s quarters?" Qian asked softly, trailing behind as they reached the fork between the Living Hall and the Vermilion Pavilion. The empress? Ren''s brow creased. He pictured her: dignified and poised, head bowed, her lovely face perpetually taut. She adhered to every rule, even with him, her husband, smiling without showing teeth, always solemn, more rigid than Ren himself. In their youth, they''d been deeply in love, a harmonious couple admired by all. But as years passed, that youthful passion cooled. She remained stunning, her grace intact. Yet Ren''s feelings had waned, replaced by irritation and indifference. She met him daily with flawless etiquette, devoid of warmth, as stern as a court minister. In bed, she was worse: tense as a drawn bow, silent and stiff as a corpse. It made Ren wonder if age had robbed him of his vigor. They say couples face a seven-year itch; how many years had he and the empress endured? Far more than seven! To the world, children, courtiers, they still seemed the perfect pair. Only they knew the truth: they shared a bed but dreamed apart. Whispers had spread through the palace. Since his ascension, Ren hadn''t spent a single night in the Vermilion Pavilion. He visited her only at dawn or noon, exchanging nods before departing. Their relationship had been strained and delicate for a long time, neither willing to tear through the fragile veneer of affection they maintained. More crucially, the empress bore no sons. She had two daughters: Qing, the eldest princess, and Li, Ren''s beloved youngest. Even the headstrong Li likely never imagined how icy her parents'' bond had grown. Qian, as Ren''s closest eunuch, knew it all. But with master on one side and mistress on the other, silence was his only option; speaking would embarrass everyone. He even knew who Ren favored most now, and that Ren had once considered replacing the empress. But thoughts were just thoughts. The empress''s backing was formidable: daughter of Sheng Su, a Confucian literary titan with students and influence spanning the realm. Sheng Su held no office, but his sway over civil officials was undeniable; most were either his pupils or owed him favors from chaotic times. That influence had helped Ren outshine the cultured Tao among scholars. If Ren deposed her, the Imperial Academy''s students would wail at the palace gates by morning, and memorials from officials would bury him in headaches. Plus, Qing tied the court to the righteous sects. Unless the empress died naturally, her position was unshakable. "No need. The Living Hall will do," Ren said coolly, then added after a pause, "Summon Yu Fei." Yu Fei, born Zhao, daughter of a pig butcher¡­ Qian knew she was Ren''s favorite consort. Vibrant and enchanting, her eyes sparkled with life. Lacking the empress''s regal beauty, she exuded a wild, open allure, her voice a sultry melody that captivated Ren. She served him tirelessly, earning frequent visits and nights in her chambers. Her womb proved fruitful, bearing him two sons. Of Ren''s five sons, she alone birthed two; young, but her favor was clear. "Yes, Majesty." Ren had spoken; Qian could only obey. In the Vermilion Pavilion of the palace, a woman sat at a desk, her elegance serene as autumn pines, proud as a blooming peony. She held a book in her slender hands, lit by a candle as dusk fell, reading with quiet focus. Her fair face bore light makeup, brows like willow leaves, eyes like shooting stars, a delicate nose, and cherry-red lips. She resembled Qing and Li by forty percent, yet carried a unique charm. Her jade-like complexion showed no trace of age: mature at a glance, yet youthful upon closer look. Her black hair flowed like tassels, her demeanor aloof yet gentle, a silent grace. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. Her figure was a ripe peach, collarbones elegant beneath ornate phoenix robes that hugged her form. A jade belt cinched her impossibly slim waist. She sat with refined poise: back straight, legs together; her ample chest rising like daunting jade peaks, firm and unyielding, tracing a breathtaking curve. Below her willow waist, her seated posture accentuated her hips, mature and alluring, a perfect, rounded peach that could drive any man mad. Her long, straight legs, though seated, seemed sculpted to perfection, faintly visible beneath her lavish robes: slender and towering, likely taller than half the men in the realm. Outside the Vermilion Pavilion, a palace maid hurried across the threshold, stopping a few paces behind the woman to bow. "Is it time for His Majesty''s dinner?" the empress asked. By court custom, the emperor dined at the same hour as the empress, and in her Vermilion Pavilion. Glancing at the setting sun, she calculated he''d be halfway there by now. Since his ascension, save for the coronation day and the next, when tradition demanded he dine here, he''d eaten in the Golden Dragon Hall or Living Hall. "Perhaps he''s busy with state affairs," she reassured herself. The maid remained silent, kneeling without a word. Sensing the silence and the maid''s kneel, the empress''s heart sank, though she feigned calm. "What is it? Too many duties today?" "His Majesty¡­ went to the Living Hall," the maid whispered. "Oh." Disappointment flickered through her. It was the start of the month; she''d ordered the imperial kitchen to prepare Ren''s favorites, hoping to share a meal. Clearly, he had no such intent. "He must be tired. The Vermilion Pavilion is farther than the Living Hall," she rationalized. The maid, who''d served her for years, felt a pang hearing such humble self-comfort from the still-radiant empress. Hesitating over the latest news, she faltered. Noticing the prolonged silence, the empress asked, "What''s wrong?" "His Majesty¡­" The maid struggled for words, then confessed, "He summoned Yu Fei." Suddenly, the empress''s grip tightened, crumpling the pristine page in her hand. "¡­Oh, is that so?" Her chest heaved slightly, her full breasts trembling beneath the heavy phoenix robes. She smoothed the wrinkled paper, her tone flat. "I''m getting old." "Forgive me!" The maid kowtowed, her forehead thudding against the carpet. "It''s not your fault. Get up," the empress said, rising. Her youthful figure radiated mature allure and dignity. She approached and lifted the maid herself, self-mocking, "It''s me who''s displeased His Majesty, not you." "If he won''t come, have the kitchen distribute the food to the servants. I can''t eat much anyway." Another maid entered, reporting, "Your Majesty, the eldest princess is here." "Qing!?" Joy lit the empress''s face, her daughter''s arrival easing her melancholy. Her jade-like features bloomed with a smile, radiant as a peony. Qing''s tall frame stepped into the hall, bowing. "Mother, greetings." By protocol, she should say "Mother Empress," but raised in the Xian Sect, Qing half-understood and cared little for such formalities meant to uphold rule. Clad in phoenix robes, the empress, Mei, hurried forward to embrace her daughter, laughing, "Qing, what brings you to see me today?" Mei felt both guilt and adoration for her eldest. Unlike Li, who grew up by her side, Qing had been sent to the sect at two or three, tearing them apart. Mei had wept bitterly, falling ill, seeing her only rarely under the sect elders'' guidance. Thus, she bore deep remorse and love for Qing, fretting most when she began her free travels. "Come, have you eaten? I''ll cook for you," Mei said warmly. "No need, Mother." Qing smiled, holding her back. They sat side by side on a cushioned couch in the side hall. Visually, they were nearly indistinguishable: both stunning, skin like jade, eyes youthful. Mei''s ageless face bore no wrinkles, her mature grace the only hint she was older, more like a sister than a mother. The two beauties chatted and laughed, a scene so lovely it seemed a painting too perfect to disturb. As a mother, Mei''s gentle intuition caught Qing''s mood. "Is something troubling you? Can you tell me?" "Mother¡­" Qing''s moon-bright gaze wavered, her lovely eyes trembling, drifting to some distant point. "What¡­ is ''love''?" "''Love''¡­" Mei''s heart softened. Seeing her usually aloof, immortal-like daughter so lost warmed her with pity. Qing had reached the age of a maiden''s springtime. "''Love'' is family, friendship¡­ and romance." "Romance?" "Yes, romance¡­ it''s beautiful." Mei''s eyes drifted, recalling her youth. "It''s when you see someone and can''t stop thinking of them: their joys, their sorrows, how they''re faring. You even feel an urge to stand before them." Qing''s thoughts stirred¡­ She sometimes thought of Feng Wei, a sudden longing to know him. Was that what Mother meant? But appearing before him unbidden¡­ She recalled wandering twice, as if possessed, to the foul depths of Yong Row, that stinking hovel. Did that count? She didn''t know. "Sometimes, he''ll anger you; over trifles, you''ll want to snap at him, yet not truly be mad. But he''s also the one who frustrates you most, even to embarrassment." Feng Wei hadn''t sparked that in her, no urge to lash out. But seeing him with other women left her uneasy. The one who stirred her most, even to humiliated fury, was Elder Mu. The first time she saw a man''s private flesh, that massive lump, and felt scalding, sticky white fluid drench her, her body heated and softened instinctively, her rage nearly unleashing murderous intent. Just this afternoon, she''d fled his hovel in near-panic. Was that love? Her gut said no. Feng Wei weighed heavier in her heart than most¡­ Her mother''s words didn''t untangle Qing''s confusion; they deepened it. Mei, too, drifted into memory as she spoke, of her early days with Ren, their courteous, heartfelt bond. How happy she''d been then¡­ Ren had been so understanding, indulgent, his eyes full of tenderness. As Prince Ren, he''d been witty and refined, a gallant suitor whose devotion she craved. But now? Why had it come to this? Mei''s gaze scattered. She couldn''t pinpoint when their bond had turned so cold and distant, strangers in all but name. Mother and daughter fell into a long, shared silence, unbroken until night fell and the candlelight flickered. ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª Read 10 chapters in advance on Patreon: ?? [patreon.com/VOXI1] Chapter 13- Fatty Wang The capital, though newly founded, had been carefully shaped by Ming since his ascent to power. Through strategic policies and waves of immigration, bolstered by its prime location straddling the northern and southern mountains with easy access to eastern and western rivers, it faintly stood as the world''s center. Ming seized this edge to conquer the land and unite the realm. Politically and economically perfect, its rise was meteoric. In just thirty years, it blossomed into one of the most prosperous and splendid cities under heaven. It served as the gateway for trade with the western regions. Truly, it transformed year by year. The wealthy, powerful, and influential flocked here. Within the city sprawled a district of lavish homes and gifted estates for the nobility. Rich folk from every corner of the nation, alongside idle nobles strolling with their dogs and parrots, fueled a culture of excess and indulgence. The drive to outshine each other grew daily. The ranks of servants swelled. The thrifty ideals Ming championed in his youth faded into mere words on paper as he aged. Habits of extravagance sprouted without end: wine, lust, gambling dens, brothels, and pleasure houses. The capital of Bright Hua became especially infamous for its gold-draining pits of vice. Here, with enough money and power, nothing was out of reach. Every craving could be satisfied. Take whoring, for example. Whether it was the soft, sweet maidens of the southern riverlands, the fiery and bold girls of the north, exotic beauties trafficked from the western regions, or songstresses and dancers offered by the northern tribes, all were available. And so, a certain fatty found himself lingering here. He forgot his original purpose. "Well, if it isn''t Lord Wang!" A middle-aged madam, her face thick with makeup, spotted a plump figure waddling over the threshold like a balloon. She darted forward with startling speed and eagerly ushered the fatty inside. "You''ve been gone half a month, my lord! The girls have missed you dearly." Of course they had. Lavish spenders like him were rare. "Missed the money in my pockets, more like," the fatty shot back. His name was Wally. Since arriving in the capital, he''d been unable to tear himself from its pleasure districts. Day after day, he squandered gold like dirt and whored until the skies darkened. The brothels adored this man. He tossed money around without a second thought. It left the madams quietly anxious, though. This fatty indulged without restraint. He cycled through girl after girl from dawn till midnight without pause. The madams feared their golden goose might one day keel over from exhaustion. Worse yet, he might suffer a stroke mid-thrust. Where would they find another rich fool so reckless? Yet Wally remained unfazed. He often stayed in the pleasure lanes for days on end. If not for some urgent business, the madam reckoned he''d live there until he died. And his stamina? Unmatched. Even seasoned whores were carried out of his room. Their faces flushed with satisfaction, and they dripped with lust. You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. "No such thing!" the madam chuckled. She waved her powdered arm toward the upstairs rooms. "Funny thing, though. While you were away these past two weeks, we got a new girl from the western regions. That figure of hers!" *Gulp!* Wally swallowed hard and glanced around. "Where? Where is she?" "She''s waiting for you, of course!" The madam beamed. She hesitated and rubbed her hands. "Just, the price!" Before she could finish, Wally pulled a fistful of silver notes from his pocket. He didn''t bother to count them and stuffed them into her arms. The madam''s eyes gleamed as she led him upstairs. Meanwhile, in another corner of the capital''s gold-draining dens, at the familiar Golden Lotus Hall, a strikingly handsome "youth" with delicate features tossed gold around the gambling tables. He was prettier than most women, with rosy lips, white teeth, and porcelain skin. The surrounding gamblers cast uncertain glances. Whose spoiled daughter was this, disguised as a man, daring to venture here? It was none other than Li, the youngest daughter of Ming. She was the empire''s most mischievous and devilish little princess. "Big or small, big or small! Place your bets!" "Open it up!" "Woohoo!" "Aw, damn it!" Amid cheers of joy and groans of despair, Li gritted her teeth. Her delicate jaw clenched tight. "Sorry, guest, you''ve got to admit defeat!" The dealer grinned and scooped up Li''s chips. Her budding breasts, tightly bound by cloth to flatten them like a man''s, heaved with every ragged breath. Her flushed face and wide, furious eyes betrayed how much she''d lost. "Hana! The money!" Li snapped. She reached back toward her maid, also disguised as a pageboy. The maid''s fair skin gave away her flimsy disguise. She looked ready to cry as she shook an empty purse. "Young Master, the allowance your father gave you this month is gone." "Gone?!" Li''s face crumpled. A princess''s monthly stipend was no small sum, especially for Ming''s most favored daughter. Her allowance even surpassed that of her older brothers. Yet in just a few days, Li had squandered nearly all of it. The remaining jewelry and trinkets, stamped with palace seals, she didn''t dare sell. Everything she could cash in for gambling funds had already been wagered. Ever since tailing Feng to this place and getting hooked on the thrill, the playful little devil had been sneaking here every few days. But a princess raised in the palace, clever though she was, knew little of the world''s treachery. How could she outwit these seasoned sharks? After a few rounds, Li had lost almost everything. Even her underwear was at stake. "It''s really gone?" "Gone!" Hana whimpered, on the verge of tears. Not only had the princess burned through her stipend, but she''d also dragged Hana''s hard-earned savings into the fire. *My poor savings!* No money left meant a dejected exit. "Sigh!" Mistress and maid sighed in unison as they slunk out of Golden Lotus Hall. "Young Master, what now?" Hana asked timidly. Li snapped irritably, "What else? Back to the palace!" Broke and out of options, what else could they do? If they lingered past curfew and Ming found out she wasn''t in the palace, she''d be done for. But the more Li walked, the angrier she grew. "Argh! So frustrating! I was this close to winning!" But with not a coin left, how could she turn it around? Then, her sharp eyes caught sight of a carriage parked at the street''s edge. "Hm?" It bore the insignia of the Golden Yuan Merchant Guild: a design Li knew well. Back when her father was still a prince, that carriage had rolled up to the estate more than once. Out lumbered a rolling mass of flesh. It was Wally, a man nearing three hundred pounds. His belly strained his expensive robes to the brink of tearing as he descended with help from his entourage. He''d kneel before Ming with the utmost flattery. His gut nearly scraped the floor. Even spotting Li, he''d kowtow in terror. Li remembered Wally vividly. Not just for his absurd size, but because he was filthy rich. Insanely rich. Every visit, he brought cartloads of chests brimming with gold and silver. Back then, money meant little to Li. As a princess, anything she wanted was hers with a word. But after stepping into these gold-draining dens, she realized the coins she once tossed to servants actually mattered. Money might not buy everything, but without it, you were screwed. "That fatty''s here?" Li''s clever eyes gleamed as a plan took shape. Wally was her father''s walking treasury. As Ming''s most beloved daughter, borrowing a little wouldn''t be a problem, right? Chapter 14- Lust & Recklessness The lane ahead reeked of something that made Li''s cheeks flush: a heady mix of rouge and an indescribable scent. "Come on, big guy!" "My little cunt''s waiting for your jade rod!" "Don''t grope my tits, you naughty brother!" "Let this slut feel your might!" The moment they stepped in, lecherous moans and playful banter filled the air. Crude words Li had never heard echoed around. From the balconies, women with bare arms like lotus roots leaned out. They were half-dressed, their eyes dripping with lust. Their gauzy veils floated like clouds, teasingly covering yet revealing their bodies. The sheer intensity overwhelmed the two innocent girls. "Princess, are we really okay coming here?" Hana squirmed. A strange itch rose from below, and her face burned red. "No problem! I''ve seen the gambling prince of the demon sect! This is nothing!" Li''s cheeks blazed too. Her shoddy disguise couldn''t hide her stunning beauty. Her youthful face, still soft with innocence, flushed red, but she puffed out her chest, feigning boldness. Yet beneath her silk bindings, her tender nipples hardened. They pressed against the fabric like red beans. A strange heat surged through her slim legs, rising from her flat, soft belly. It made her tremble as her strength drained away. "Princess, I can''t walk!" "Hana," Li''s legs wobbled too, forcing her to stop. "Neither can I." How could they search this maze of brothels without going in? But already, out here, their bodies felt like this. What would happen inside? Taking a deep breath, Li steeled herself. Unbeknownst to her, Wally was in one of those brothels, oblivious to the princess tracking him down. On a bed draped in red and green silk, a western dancer lay clad only in a bellyband. Her lower half was bare. She swayed her hips, her hairless mound pristine and pale: a trait said to be common among men and women of the Raksha Kingdom. Wally''s eyes widened. "Fuck, is this the legendary white tiger?" But this western whore was clearly seasoned. Her labia sagged, dark and purple, like sea mushrooms. They were hardly appetizing. His fat-sunken eyes, narrowed to green-bean slits, strained to take her in. His rolls of flesh quivered with excitement, rippling like waves. Beneath his taut pants, buried under belly fat, his cock stirred. It leaked as it swelled, tenting the fabric. Oddly enough, despite his girth, Wally''s libido defied logic. Most fat men wilted under their own weight, but Wally had been raised on delicacies and treasures. His father, with sixteen wives and only one son, had stuffed him with yang-boosting elixirs from age four. The Golden Yuan Merchant Guild''s wealth bought every rare tonic imaginable. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. By seven or eight, his dick rivaled a grown man''s. Twenty years of excess had forged a monstrous rod: over twenty-five centimeters long, thickened by overindulgence. It took seven or eight men to wrestle him down when he raged. His cock was bizarrely shaped too. Unlike the typical thick head and slimmer shaft, Wally''s head was small, barely two centimeters at the crown, while the base swelled to eight or nine centimeters thick. Pale and plump from pampering, it resembled a fat white radish. After ogling the dancer''s striptease, Wally lunged with a lewd grin. He pinned her down and kneaded her pale breasts. His stubby fingers teased her hard, red nipples. The Raksha woman spoke, but he couldn''t understand a word. "What the hell is she saying?" His fat hand groped her crotch, finding it wet and musky. He crowed, "So fucking slutty! Black as hell, probably fucked a hundred times! Let me ruin you!" A rip-off, but the lust-drunk Wally didn''t care. He fumbled to undo his pants, but his bulk made it a struggle. After wrestling through layers of fat, he finally yanked them down. He grinned wickedly, eager to scare the exotic dancer with his freakish cock. He positioned himself over her, ready to thrust his massive rod into her wet, seasoned cunt. "Wally Wang!!!" "Get out here!!!" A sharp, girlish shout pierced the pleasure lane, jolting Wally mid-motion. His mighty rod wilted instantly before he could penetrate her. Furious, he nearly barked, "Who the fuck?!" But the voice felt oddly familiar, like he''d heard it before. As he pondered, the roused patrons cursed aloud. "Who the hell ruined my shot?!" "Made me go soft, damn it!" "Who''s begging to die?!" Hearing the uproar, Hana shrank back. She clutched Li''s arm, trembling. "Princess, this is getting out of hand." "It''s fine! I''ve got this!" Li regretted her impulsive yell. Why had she shouted Wally''s name like that? Now things were spiraling. If the city guard showed up, Ming would hear of it. Though her face stayed defiant, watching the crowd peer from windows and railings, even the fearless Li blushed. Then a brothel door burst open. A meatball tumbled out, crashing to the ground in a humiliating sprawl before Li, eating dirt. "Ow, fuck, that hurt!" Wally looked up, filthy and dazed. His eyes landed on a pair of exquisite embroidered shoes. From this angle, the ankles and calves peeked out: flawless, like carved ivory, more beautiful than any whore''s legs he''d seen. The most perfect calves he''d ever laid eyes on. His softened cock sprang back to life, pressing hard against the cold ground through his pants. "You!" Li hadn''t expected Wally to appear so pathetically, but relief washed over her. At least he was here, sparing her embarrassment. After sneaking glances at Li''s jade-like legs, Wally scrambled up and bowed low. "Greetings, Pr!" "Prince-what? Call me Young Master!" Li glared, cutting him off. Catching on to their male disguises, Wally grinned awkwardly. "Yes, yes, Young Master''s right." His beady eyes flicked to Li''s youthful yet stunning face, still flushed from earlier. His heart raced, and his cock strained painfully against his pants. He hunched over to hide it, but his gaze kept darting to her covered legs. *If I could hold those feet, play with them.* A blasphemous thought struck him, and he shook it off in terror. Such an idea could get him torn to pieces. But a seed had taken root in his mind. The onlookers, seeing the usually arrogant Wally grovel, realized this "youth" was no ordinary figure and backed off. "Hm!" Li relaxed. Her tension eased. She nodded primly, then flicked her robe with forced swagger. "Let''s go!" "Yes, ma''am!" Wally calmed his racing pulse and trailed behind her. Then, a whiff hit him: lilies, maybe, mixed with a thicker, honeyed scent. His cock twitched again, nearly bursting his pants. He adjusted it discreetly. His beady eyes fixed on Li''s swaying hips ahead: youthful yet curved, her tight peach-like ass twisting with each step. *Gulp.* He swallowed hard and bowed his head to hide his lust, terrified of Ming finding out. Reason told him to forget the sacrilegious thoughts. But his mind clung to that fleeting glimpse when he''d fallen: a vision etched into his soul, beyond any whore''s allure. "Hey! Fatty Wang!" Lost in fantasy, Wally snapped to attention at Li''s playful, bossy tone. "Young Master, what''s your command?" He bowed hastily. "You got money?" "Money?" Wally blinked, then pulled a wad of silver notes from his sleeve. Li snatched them instantly. "Consider it a loan," she said, grinning at her fresh gambling funds. Her radiant smile made Wally''s heart pound. "I''ll pay you back next time." With that, she dragged Hana back into Golden Lotus Hall. Watching her vanish, Wally rubbed his chin. His merchant''s cunning sparked to life. "A loan! Right, I''ve got plenty of cash!" Chapter 15- Shadows of Love Meanwhile, in the palace: Talking with her mother hadn''t eased Qing''s confusion. It deepened it. She couldn''t voice her thoughts, unsure where to begin. She''d also noticed her parents'' bond was colder than she''d thought. Each time Ming visited Vermilion Pavilion, he''d offer a curt greeting and leave without lingering. He always had excuses: state affairs, no time to sit. This left Mei no chance to keep him. Sensing this, Qing''s confusion grew heavier. Feng Wei. His name surfaced in her mind, but she felt lost on how to face him. Carrying this turmoil, Qing drifted through half a month. Ming had passed in late summer, and the new emperor had reigned for over two months. Thanks to the Golden Yuan Merchant Guild''s generosity, the treasury swelled, smoothing the transition. Everything fell into place: repairing the late emperor''s tomb, crafting the new emperor''s dragon robes, maintaining the capital''s waterways, promoting border generals. All on track. Qing wandered the palace as usual. When restless, she often roamed aimlessly. Not entirely aimless. She deliberately avoided Yong Row. At first, the palace staff feared the ethereal long princess, kneeling at her approach. But over time, they grew used to her strolls. Beyond a polite bow, they no longer prostrated, sparing her the fuss. "Your Majesty, look! Heehee!" "Haha." Passing the imperial gardens, Qing caught the sound of flirtatious laughter: a woman''s chime-like giggle and a man''s chuckle. Beyond two pavilions, she saw guards and servants lining the corridor, standing rigid. They didn''t stop Qing. Ming had granted her free rein in the palace and the right to see him unannounced, a mark of his affection. But it sometimes led to awkward moments. Stepping into the garden''s water pavilion, Qing saw a man in dragon robes cradling a stunning woman with cherry lips, clad in lavish palace garb. They pointed at rare blooming flowers. The woman cooed playfully while the man smiled indulgently. One was Qing''s father, the new emperor of Bright Hua. The other, his favored beauty. From recent gossip, this must be Yu Fei, the butcher''s daughter turned consort. Yu''s face glowed like peach blossoms. Her almond eyes enchanted, lips lush, a tear-shaped mole beneath her eye adding charm to her radiant beauty. Unlike Mei, always draped in heavy, regal phoenix robes, Yu wore sheer silk that hugged her curves: full breasts, tiny waist, swaying hips. A femme fatale if ever there was one. *Not as beautiful as Mother.* Mei outshone her in raw looks, but Yu''s flirtatious charm left the scholarly empress in the dust. Qing kept walking, approaching the pavilion. Lord Jian Qian, sharp as ever, spotted her and sang out, "This servant greets the Long Princess!" Ming quickly dropped his arm from Yu, adjusting his sleeves. Turning to Qing with a warm smile, he said, "Qing, here to see the flowers too?" He wasn''t afraid of his daughter. He was just embarrassed she''d caught him so relaxed, clashing with his usual stern facade. Yu''s sultry eyes sized up the tall, flawless Qing. She giggled, covering her mouth. "Your Majesty, the long princess is so refined, like a fairy descended to earth! Just as lovely as Sister Mei. You haven''t visited her in a while. Why not gather little Li and visit her tonight?" Her words seemed innocent, but Qing felt uneasy. With a thoughtful consort smoothing things over, Ming beamed. He knew Yu and Mei clashed privately, but Yu never troubled him, always lifting his spirits. His awkwardness faded. "Since we''re all here, Qing, let''s visit your mother. Bring Li too." He didn''t relish seeing Mei, but with her daughter present, he wouldn''t undermine her outright. "No need, Father," Qing said, shaking her head. She knew adding Yu to a meeting with her parents would freeze the air. "I''m tired. Another day. Excuse me, Father." Ming had only suggested it casually. Free from duties for once, he had no desire to face Mei''s wooden expression. Seeing Qing''s tactful retreat, he waved graciously. "Rest then." Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. Qing glanced at Yu, then Ming, and left. As she departed, she summoned her cultivation, gliding like the wind to a high palace perch, her gaze distant. When had her once-harmonious parents drifted so far apart? Mei sat alone in her vast hall, aging silently. Was it Yu''s fault? Qing shook her head. She knew Mei''s love for Ming hadn''t faded in over a decade. It was Ming who''d changed. His heart had shifted. Were all men like this, loving one after another? Ming was. What about Feng? Jun''s granddaughter, the blade master''s daughter. Even Li had an ambiguous tie to him. And that demon sect temptress shared some unspoken bond with him too. Maybe he wasn''t as good as she''d thought. Would she and Feng end up like her parents, smiling through a hollow marriage, clinging to a fragile dignity neither dared shatter? Sadness flickered in Qing''s heart. Her eyes turned to Yong Row. She stepped forward. Deep in Yong Row: She returned to this place that unsettled her. Expecting the usual stench, she was stunned to find it nearly gone. Only a faint, stubborn whiff of old decay lingered. The doorstep gleamed, scrubbed clean of filth. The shack remained ramshackle but refreshed. The leaky wooden door was patched, holes plugged: crude work, but livable. Heart pounding, Qing nudged the half-open door. No choking, lust-inducing reek assaulted her. The ceiling and floor sparkled. The messy bed was neat, joined by a small cabinet, two water jars, a stool, a table, and a bowl. But the old eunuch she''d fixated on was absent. Maybe he''d died. His wrinkled, spotted face and deathly aura had hinted at it. Natural causes? Or discovered and executed? Imagining that frail, pleading figure gone left Qing oddly empty. Perhaps she''d end up like him one day: eyes dull, ambition faded, a walking corpse. "Fairy! Princess!" A thrilled voice jolted her from behind. It was Elder Mu. Qing turned, surprised to feel a spark of joy she didn''t expect. Elder Mu had changed. Still gaunt and wrinkled, his eyes shone brighter. He wore a faded, patched robe and oversized pants that dwarfed his stick-thin legs. Who''d guess those loose trousers hid a massive cock that tight ones couldn''t contain? He''d stolen them from a fat eunuch, leaving the poor man cursing for days. Elder Mu trembled with excitement, nearly dancing. Cleaning had worked. The fairy had returned! "Princess," he stammered, unused to speaking. Thrilled, he fumbled for manners. "Sit." *Clunk!* He grabbed the stool, but a leg snapped off: a discard no one wanted. His face flushed with shame, unsure whether to drop it. He looked like a comical monkey. "No need," Qing said. "Then, water." Flustered, he grabbed the bowl, forgetting how rude it was. Another might''ve stormed off. He shuffled to the jars, too eager to recall which was safe. Lifting a lid, a rancid stench hit, flooding the cleaned shack with that familiar odor. Qing''s body quaked. A strange heat flared. She peered in. The jar wasn''t water. It brimmed with thick, white semen, like milk or frothy tofu pudding. The lewd scent thickened, assaulting her pure body and naive mind. "Fairy! Princess!" Elder Mu''s face burned. He slammed the lid shut and turned to Qing, petrified she''d rage. But seeing no fury, he drank in her perfect face, flushed with a rosy glow, more breathtaking than the garden''s blooms. His heart thudded. Lust surged within him. The giant cock in his baggy pants heated up and stiffened. His massive balls churned, veins bulging along his crimson shaft as the huge head pushed against his trousers, forming a visible bulge. "Ah!!" Seeing that monstrous erection point at her, Qing''s heart leapt. She nearly stepped back, tempted to flee. *No. If I fear a powerless old man, how will I face the heavens?* She steadied herself. Her mind flashed to her parents'' lost love, Mei''s loneliness, Ming and Yu''s laughter, then Feng''s face. "Feng!" Resolve hardened. Pushing past shame and heat, she forced her eyes down, staring at the bulge that unnerved her. Her gaze, shy yet firm, not cold, made Elder Mu shudder. His already huge cock grew even larger, straining harder against the fabric. He stood frozen. But when she didn''t leave or strike, courage surged. Trembling, he tugged at his pants and pulled them down to his knees. Qing''s shaky eyes followed the motion. First, she saw his shriveled belly and bony hips. Then a tangled nest of gray-black pubes came into view. Finally, as the pants dropped fully, a monstrous red cock sprang free. It was thicker than her arm, veins pulsing like a living beast. The gaping tip oozed sticky precum, glistening in the dim light. At nearly thirty centimeters long, Qing compared it to her slender arm and realized it dwarfed it entirely. Her legs weakened. Heat spread through her body. A fire ignited in her belly, and her untouched core trembled with unfamiliar sensation. A drop of slick nectar leaked from her virgin slit, sliding slowly through her tight, pristine folds. Wetness bloomed between her thighs, an unspeakable feeling taking hold. She clamped her legs shut. Her plump thighs pressed together, guarding that sacred crevice, now dampening her undergarments. Shame, panic, chaos, and a racing pulse overwhelmed her: emotions she''d never known, too complex to name. Seeing his dream lover''s expression, Elder Mu quaked, not from fear, but from ecstatic arousal. Her divine beauty, now vulnerable, fueled his desire like nothing else. His cock, which usually took half an hour of stroking to release, reached its limit without touch, triggered solely by her trembling gaze. "Oh! Fairy! Princess! I can''t hold it! Ah! Ah!" His swollen, purple-black head erupted. His massive, hairy balls convulsed, unleashing a torrent of scalding, stinking semen in white arcs, like an endless volcano. The thick streams shot straight at Qing''s face. *Splatter! Splatter!* Too stunned to dodge, Qing''s mind blanked. Forgetting her powers, she shut her eyes and lips tightly, trembling as the hot, viscous cum struck her skin. Each spurt jolted her body. Her womb quivered in response, and her virgin flower gushed sweet honey, syncing with his release, like a spring bursting from a dry valley. *Drip, drip.* The panting man and the racing-hearted woman stood silent, hearing only each other''s pounding hearts. Thick semen dripped from Qing''s face, hair, and nose. It slid past her sealed lips, down her firm breasts, over her hardened nipples, and fell uselessly to the floor, never reaching her true garden. Her face, coated in white, looked like a holy mask: sacred yet depraved. After what felt like an eternity, Qing''s fingers twitched. A flash of magic cleansed her body and the floor, erasing all traces of the semen in an instant. But her stiff nipples still poked through her robe. Her breaths came heavy, matching the twitching of Elder Mu''s post-climax cock, now softening slightly but still massive. These were the only proofs of what had just happened. Silence lingered. Strength returned to Qing''s legs. She clamped her thighs tighter, her curvy hips swaying subtly as she turned, her waist rigid with effort. "I''m leaving," she said after a pause, her voice steady but quiet. "Princess!" Elder Mu, mute until now, panicked. He dropped to his knees, his huge cock slapping the floor with a wet thud. He pressed his forehead down, begging, "Please!" Qing stood like a statue, her eyes fixed elsewhere. Then she vanished in a shimmer of light. "Maybe later." Her faint, cool voice echoed in the wind. Elder Mu''s face lit with wild joy. Chapter 16- Whispers of Rebellion Another half month passed. The capital of Bright Hua, which should have been bustling with activity, remained unusually calm on the surface. Yet everyone knew that beneath this tranquility, dark currents were stirring. The plans of Prince Tao and the Demon Sect remained unclear, and though the emperor kept them in mind, he couldn''t find a reason to act against them. Some forces, having caught wind of the situation, quietly began to regroup. These factions had once supported Prince Tao in his bid for the throne, naturally putting them at odds with the emperor. Knowing a purge was inevitable in the future, they started reaching out to the Demon Sect''s forces, both openly and in secret. The emperor saw it all and kept it in his heart. Once his power was secure, he would deal with them one by one. For now, though, he was bogged down by the empire''s chaotic and overwhelming affairs, leaving him exasperated. The southwestern chieftains rebelled repeatedly, the northwest suffered severe drought and rampant natural disasters, leaving the people with no harvest and millions displaced as refugees. In the north, the nomadic tribes, once subdued by Ming Jiang, were growing restless, crossing the border time and again. When Ming Jiang was alive, his might suppressed all corners of the realm, pacifying the seas and stabilizing the land. But after his death, the empire''s deep-seated flaws, long held in check, began to surface one by one. "Another request for rewards!" In the Hall of Nurturing Heart, the emperor erupted in anger, causing the eunuchs and attendants, including Lord Jian Qian, to kneel silently, foreheads pressed to the ground, not daring to make a sound. "They dare to extort me¡­" The emperor glared at the northern barbarian king''s petition, his eyes blazing with barely contained fury. "And now they want to marry my daughter? This is an insult to me!" "Is Bright Hua without soldiers or generals?" But everyone knew the emperor was just venting. Even setting aside whether Bright Hua''s treasury could sustain a war, the emperor himself had no desire to let the military nobles grow stronger. Back when he was Prince Ren, he had hoped the military nobles would bolster their power to aid his claim to the throne. Now that he was emperor, he feared their strength, knowing it could influence even the succession. After his outburst, the emperor calmed down, exhaustion creeping into his voice as he said, "To Li''s quarters." "Yes, Your Majesty," Lord Jian Qian replied, head bowed. "Man is born good by nature¡­" As the emperor arrived, he heard the clear, melodic sound of reading coming from the little princess''s palace. Hearing his daughter''s soft, delicate voice lifted his spirits, and he said with a pleased smile, "Compared to those tiresome scholars and generals, my Li is far better! Obedient and well-behaved." Lord Jian Qian, attending at his side, heard this but said nothing, keeping his eyes down and his expression neutral. The little princess was wild. She exasperated her tutors daily, skipped lessons, and slipped out of the palace. Yet Li was also brilliant. No matter how difficult the lesson, she could recite it flawlessly and even draw insightful conclusions, leaving her tutors both frustrated and fond of her. No one dared report her antics to the emperor, though. If a group of lofty Confucian scholars couldn''t handle a girl in her teens, they''d only invite ridicule if word got out. "Father! Father!" Li, who had been reading with a serious expression, sitting upright with her small chest puffed out, turned and saw the emperor. Her face lit up with joy, and she abandoned all decorum, rushing into his arms. "Why haven''t you come to see me in so long?" "Oh, my dear!" The emperor beamed. To most, a daughter was a treasure, and though he was cold and disdainful toward Empress Mei Su, he genuinely adored his youngest daughter. She was obedient, cheered him up, and no matter how irritated he felt, seeing her always extinguished his anger. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. He patted her head affectionately and said, "Yes, yes, it''s my fault. I''ve been too busy¡­" *I wish you''d stay busier!* Li thought to herself, inwardly grumbling. Playing the good girl was exhausting. The emperor tested Li''s studies briefly. Whether it was the Three-Character Classic left by Ming Jiang or the classics of the great scholars, she recited them perfectly, not missing a single word. "Li truly puts my mind at ease!" The emperor couldn''t help but sigh. Both Qing and Li, his daughters, were extraordinarily gifted, while his sons seemed far more ordinary by comparison. After enjoying some father-daughter time with Li, the emperor left. As emperor, his schedule was packed, and squeezing out time to visit his daughter was a rare luxury. Once she was sure he was gone, Li''s obedient demeanor vanished, replaced by a sly, lively spark. She dashed into the hall in a few quick steps, shedding her ornate gown to reveal skin as tender and pale as milk. Wearing only a pink bellyband and silk undergarments, Li exposed vast stretches of her snowy, delicate flesh. Her rosy complexion glistened, her shoulders gleamed like jade, and she raised her slender, jade-like arms. Humming a tune, she pinned up her hair and called to her maid, "Hana, come help me bind my chest." Hana wrapped Li''s budding breasts with silk, hesitant and gentle, saying timidly, "Princess, I heard from the older maids that this isn''t good for your body. They say it''ll stop them from growing¡­" "Big ones are a hassle. Look at Consort Yu Fei, lugging around those two lumps of flesh. Doesn''t she get tired?" Li replied carelessly, tightening the binding herself. Her small, bowl-shaped breasts were neatly concealed. She checked herself in the mirror, then had Hana fetch a young nobleman''s disguise. She slipped it on quickly, tied her hair up with a band, and nodded in satisfaction. "Let''s go. Time to have some fun." Over the past half month, she''d been sneaking out every few days. Thanks to Wally Wang''s bottomless wealth and generosity, she''d had a blast. Hana and the other maids hesitated but said nothing. A willful mistress was still their mistress, and they could only obey. Hana, with a pained expression, donned a pageboy''s outfit to follow. The pair slipped out through a side gate, sneaking away unnoticed. High above in the palace, a pair of eyes watched them leave, devoid of emotion. "Off to see Feng again?" Qing murmured to herself, watching her little sister depart. Her heart was a tangle of emotions. Ever since meeting Feng Wei, her clingy little sister had changed. Qing closed her eyes slightly, her magical power rippling outward like waves. Deep in her consciousness, an immortal gate stood firm as a chasm. No matter how many times she assaulted it, it wouldn''t budge. The backlash hit hard, an unstoppable force disrupting her breath. Her chest tightened, a surge of inner fire rising from her smooth abdomen and spreading through her body. Her throat sweetened with blood, and she coughed up a scarlet stream from her lips. "Still no good¡­" Qing adjusted her breathing, calming her chaotic energy, and wiped the blood from her mouth. Her face paled, her eyelids drooped like thin paper, her brows snowy, and her lashes trembled. A soft breeze passed, and her tall, slender figure seemed frail, like a sickly, delicate woman. Just like Suya Jun¡­ Qing''s gaze flickered, an indescribable feeling welling up. The image of a scholar and beauty locked in an embrace lingered in her mind, impossible to shake. She should go to Feng. She knew he could help her break through this barrier. But she didn''t want to see him, didn''t want to trouble him again, and certainly didn''t want to owe him anything. "I have my own¡­ way." Qing whispered, as if comforting herself, her tone resolute. "This is my trial, my destined calamity." Unbeknownst to her, a flash of crimson flickered in her eyes before vanishing. In the depths of Yong Row, a once-forgotten corner now saw new visitors. Several eunuchs gathered around a dilapidated shack, patched with wooden boards. The lead eunuch, clad in blue robes, a mark of rank in Bright Hua''s palace, wrinkled his nose at the faint stench that lingered despite repeated cleanings. Frowning, he said to his subordinates, "This old fool still won''t leave?" Yong Row was a place for aged, powerless eunuchs and maids. By palace rules, those who served twenty years without rank were to be expelled. Normally, this damp, remote spot reeked so badly that no overseer bothered with it. But recently, Elder Mu had drawn attention, sneaking around, pilfering, and irking the younger eunuchs. With late autumn nearing winter, it was time for a mass expulsion, and Yong Row''s overseer, the lowest and least lucrative post among the palace managers, relied on the expulsion fees to profit. Naturally, he took it seriously. Expelling one old eunuch netted thirty taels of silver! For those with connections, the overseer couldn''t skim too much, only a few taels, lest trouble arise. But Elder Mu, decades in the palace with no kin or allies, was perfect. The overseer could pocket all thirty taels without issue. "Stubborn old mule!" he cursed, ordering his men, "Drag him out." "Yes!" The eunuchs shoved open the door, only to scatter moments later in chaos. "Ah¡­ ah¡­" Elder Mu burst out, waving a stick to fend them off. "Still fighting back?" The overseer sneered, signaling a few burly eunuchs to grab cudgels and charge. Elder Mu, stooped and skeletal, roared fiercely but was no match for the young and strong. In moments, they disarmed him and pinned him down. The younger eunuchs, heavy-handed, kicked his bony, wrinkled chest and battered his dirty face as he struggled. Soon, his face was swollen, nose bleeding, gasping for breath. "Hey, hey, easy! Don''t kill him!" The overseer, seeing Elder Mu half-dead, quickly intervened. He was here for money, not a corpse to complicate things. Pulling out a document, he had a subordinate grab Elder Mu''s bony hand and press a fingerprint onto it. With that, thirty tales were his. Satisfied, he waved a hand. "Pack his things. Send him out today." Chapter 17- Sin "Stop!" A clear, cold voice rang out like a chime on stone, echoing through the empty, shadowed Yong Row. "Who''s that?" The overseer turned, spotting a white-clad girl standing gracefully nearby. He opened his mouth to snap at her, but then saw her exquisite, almost sculpted beauty and the icy anger in her clear eyes. "Princess Qing!" The overseer dropped to his knees, heedless of the filth, banging his head on the ground as cold sweat poured down. Caught in this shady act¡­ He didn''t dare wonder why a noble was here, but he knew begging was his only shot at mercy. "This old eunuch has no rank and has reached the limit. He should''ve been expelled, but he resisted the law. I had no choice but to do this. Please forgive me, Your Highness!" Not a word about pocketing the silver. "Oh." Hearing her reply, the overseer''s heart pounded with unease. "Then assign him to my palace." Qing''s voice remained cool and steady, colder than the autumn air. "Yes, yes, I''ll arrange it at once!" "Leave." "Yes, Your Majesty!" Relieved, the overseer scrambled off with his men, not daring to linger. Only when they were gone did Qing step forward, kneeling beside the trembling, pained Elder Mu. A soft glow bloomed from her hand, soothing his wounds. "Princess!" Elder Mu lifted his weathered, dust-caked face, gazing at the girl before him, a vision of an immortal come to save him. His heart felt redeemed, and tears streamed down as he sobbed. In a rush, he threw himself into her arms. Qing''s body stiffened instantly, the glow fading. She felt his bony, withered arms wrap around her waist, his filthy, tear-streaked face burying into her chest. She could feel the contours of his face brushing the edges of her breasts, sending a faint tingle and heat through her. Even his grip on her waist softened her tense frame unwittingly. His body carried an unshakable stench and a potent masculine scent that flooded her senses, igniting a strange warmth and weakness within her. She raised a hand to push him away but paused midair, unable to follow through. Perhaps it was pity, or her kind nature, or something else¡­ "Wahh¡­ sob¡­" A man nearing sixty wept shamelessly in the arms of a stunning girl, dignity cast aside. After a while, Elder Mu seemed to realize his state and pulled back in panic. Seeing the mess of tears, snot, and dirt smeared on Qing''s chest, he stammered, "Princess! I''m sorry! I¡­" "It''s fine." Elder Mu wasn''t sure if he imagined it, but he thought he saw a fleeting flush on Qing''s moon-like face before it returned to calm. With a flash of magic, her soiled white dress was pristine again. His eyes lingered on her chest, his mind flashing back to that soft warmth. What was it like? Softer than cotton, yet gentle as ocean waves, smooth as silk but firm and elastic. Just brushing against it had nearly stolen his breath. He could still feel the lingering warmth and faint fragrance of her breasts on his face, stirring his long-dormant lust. Beneath his loose trousers, his erection strained, forming a visible bulge. "Disgraceful!" Qing, regaining her composure, glanced at his rising crotch. A flush crossed her pale face, part shame, part irritation. "Heh¡­" Hearing her words, Elder Mu, seasoned by years, knew she wasn''t truly angry. He awkwardly covered himself, chuckling sheepishly. Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. Qing adjusted her clothes and stood, her full breasts tracing an arc in the air, round and flawless like fine porcelain. Elder Mu''s groin throbbed harder. Beneath her rounded, youthful hips, her long, smooth legs curved perfectly, even under fabric, radiating allure. She stood quietly, a trace of sorrow and worry in her eyes as she gazed somewhere beyond the palace, perhaps at someone, a flicker of sadness passing through. After a moment, she turned back to Elder Mu, avoiding his twitching trousers as if they didn''t exist. Her cool voice was steady as ever. "In a few days, come serve in my palace." "Yes, yes, yes!" Elder Mu was overjoyed. Working in the princess''s palace, could he see her every day? It''d be paradise! Qing nodded and left. Elder Mu remained, lost in his delight. Autumn brought not just cooler air but shorter days and longer nights. Li, sneaking out for fun, was still buzzing with excitement. With Wally Wang footing the bill, her outings were a breeze. Through Wally, she''d discovered how vibrant and thrilling the world beyond the palace could be, especially with money. The more cash, the more fun. By dusk, Li hitched a ride back with Wally''s carriage while Hana went ahead to check their secret route, ensuring the emperor hadn''t noticed. "Heh, Princess Li, did you have fun today?" Wally asked, his fat face squeezing his tiny eyes into slits as he grinned. "Yeah! I had no idea the capital had so much cool stuff!" Li''s playful spirit was insatiable, and she only wished she had more time to explore with Wally. Wally''s beady eyes darted around, hesitating, before settling on Li''s youthful yet breathtakingly beautiful face. Gritting his teeth, he made up his mind. "Uh¡­ Your Highness." Wally rubbed his hands, his expression awkward. "You''ve spent quite a bit these past few days¡­" Quite a bit? Nearly a million taels! "Oh!" Li shrugged. "I''ll pay you back when I get my monthly allowance¡­" "Great. It''s nine hundred eighty thousand taels total¡­" "Wait!" Li snapped to attention, eyes wide. "Nine hundred eighty thousand?" Her monthly stipend was just ten thousand taels. Nine hundred eighty thousand was almost eight years'' worth. "No way! How''s that possible?" Li wasn''t clueless about money anymore, this was no small sum. "You lost six hundred thousand at the casino in half a month. The private room at Pear Garden costs a thousand a day. Wine Fragrance Pavilion racked up sixty thousand¡­" Wally rattled off the figures like a ledger, down to the pastries she''d bought, not a coin off. "To be exact, it''s nine hundred eighty thousand, three thousand, four hundred twenty-two taels." Li''s face scrunched into a grimace. She hadn''t realized she''d blown through so much in half a month. Pinching her nose, she muttered, "I''ll pay you back." "But this money didn''t just fall from the sky. I''ve got thousands in my guild to feed. I can wait, but they can''t¡­" Wally feigned distress. "How about I talk to the emperor in a few days¡­" "No!!!" The mention of her father sent Li into a panic. She couldn''t let him find out about her sneaking out and racking up debts, gambling, no less. The empress would probably punish her harshly too, not plead her case. "Just¡­ don''t tell Father¡­" Li fidgeted. "Then this debt¡­" Wally saw her trapped and smirked like a weasel with a stolen hen. "How about a deal? Finish it, and not only will I wipe the slate clean, but I''ll cover whatever you want in the future, no limit." Li''s brows furrowed, suspicion clouding her stunning face. Sharp as she was, she sensed trouble brewing. But she was in the wrong, so with a sour look, she asked, "What deal¡­?" "Nothing big!" Wally''s gaze turned lecherous, his tiny eyes glinting with greed, making Li instinctively recoil in disgust. After all that buildup, his true intent was clear. "I¡­ I want your stockings!" "What?!!" Li''s face flushed red, and she shook her head furiously, rejecting the absurd request. Though na?ve in some ways, she knew a girl''s private garments weren''t to be shown lightly, only to a husband¡­ or lover. Feng Wei''s face flashed in her mind, his handsome, carefree features, and she felt no aversion. "Hyah!" The coachman''s call to stop the horses sounded. They''d reached the palace gates. "Sigh¡­" Wally sighed dramatically, feigning despair. "Guess I''ll have to tell the emperor¡­" "You, you, you¡­" Li''s heart churned with indignation and shame. "Princess, hurry! The guards are changing shifts!" Hana''s urgent voice came from outside, adding to Li''s torment. Finally, as if giving in, she swiftly hiked up her trousers, revealing a glimpse of her flawless, jade-like calf. She yanked off her shoe, tore off a white silk stocking, and flung it into the carriage like trash before jamming her foot back into the shoe. She leapt out and fled with Hana back to the palace in a flustered rush. Wally sat stunned, savoring the fleeting glimpse. Her calf was like a lotus root of white jade, ivory-pure and spotless, its perfect curve taut and smooth. Her calf muscle was full and firm, like a crescent blade, more flawless than the ripest banana, her snowy skin glistening like crystal. But then he groaned in regret, he''d been so fixated on her leg he''d missed her foot entirely. His chubby fingers tremblingly picked up the silk stocking like a treasure. He inhaled deeply, finding no trace of odor, only a rich, floral scent, the lingering warmth of her foot driving him wild. He tugged down his trousers, revealing a rock-hard cock. Over twenty centimeters long, it was veined and thick, the bulbous head shaped like a bullet. Despite his pampered, pale flesh, it looked like a fat, white radish. He sucked in the stocking''s aroma, then, in a frenzy, stretched it open and slid it over his shaft. The silk''s smooth caress jolted him, his belly fat rippling. He gripped the stocking, wrapping it tight around his cock, but its size overwhelmed the delicate fabric, leaving half the throbbing length exposed, much to his frustration. Yet the tip, shrouded in the stocking, thrilled him, as if he were touching Li''s foot itself. He began stroking furiously. It felt like defiling her perfect feet. His sharp tip oozed sticky precum, soaking the once-pristine silk, mingling with her scent to create a heady, hormonal musk. "Ahhh¡­ ahhh!!!" "I''m coming! I''m coming!!" Wally, a veteran of countless women, lost control in mere moments under this thrill. His thick, hot cum erupted, the stocking catching it in clumps as it sprayed from his grotesque, radish-like cock. The stench of semen and male hormones filled the carriage. "Huff, huff, huff!" Wally hadn''t expected the mental and physical rush to feel like his first time with a woman. Without even touching Li, it was insanely intense, more than his first conquest at twelve. The stocking''s tip ballooned, swollen with cum like a condom, sagging toward the floor. Semen seeped through the silk''s weave, dripping in thick, scalding drops onto the carriage cushions. Wally peeled off the stocking, eyeing the drenched fabric with regret, it was ruined now. But then a vile grin spread across his face, and he chuckled lewdly. "There''s always next time¡­ heh heh heh¡­" Read 10 chapters in advance on Patreon: ?? [patreon.com/VOXI1] Chapter 18- The Cold Feast of Vermilion Pavilion The Cold Feast of Vermilion Pavilion It was early November, and the weather had turned cold and bleak. The autumn wind blew fiercely, causing the trees to wither and the flowers to fade. It was the beginning of the month again, and after the morning court, according to protocol, Emperor Ren had to first dine with Empress Mei in Vermilion Pavilion before attending to other duties or resting elsewhere. Even if he disliked Mei, Ren had no choice but to go to Vermilion Pavilion. "This palace greets Your Majesty..." As his wife and the mother of the nation, Mei did not refer to herself as a concubine like the other consorts. She only slightly bent forward, her large, prominent breasts tightly wrapped in her ornate robe, outlining a breathtaking curve. With every movement, it was striking enough to catch anyone''s eye, yet Ren had no heart to appreciate it. His face remained wooden as he nodded and stepped into the palace. Mei was captivating, still as beautiful as a young bride, with only a hint of mature charm between her brows. If she smiled, it would surely be enchanting, like a blooming peony, radiant and graceful. But Mei was the epitome of a perfect wife by the standards of etiquette. Her upbringing made her perpetually solemn and meticulous. She never showed her teeth when she smiled, managed the household frugally, never meddled in external affairs, excelled in both the kitchen and the court, and treated her husband with respectful distance, never overstepping. She was like the flawless embodiment of the virtues extolled in the biographies of exemplary women. Yet, this only deepened Ren¡¯s irritation. Mei always wore a stern expression, silent during meals and mute during rest. She never spoke beyond what was necessary, and outside of official matters, she was as still as a wooden statue. No sweet words, no tenderness, not even a gesture beyond the bounds of propriety. To Ren, seeing Mei felt like facing a stern, humorless scholar rather than his wife. "How has the empress been lately?" He sat at the dining table in the hall, the two of them facing each other, waiting for the meal to be served. Silence hung heavy between them until Ren finally spoke, his tone flat. "Thanks to Your Majesty¡¯s blessings, all is well in the palace." And then? Nothing. Silence resumed. Ren felt as if he were sitting on pins and needles, barely able to stay a moment longer. When the meal was finally served, even though it included dishes he liked, Ren only picked at his food a few times before standing up. "I have matters to attend to. I¡¯ll return another day." Mei¡¯s hand, holding her bowl and chopsticks, trembled slightly. She opened her mouth to ask him to stay, but as a virtuous wife who followed her husband¡¯s lead, she could only rise and see him off. "Farewell, Your Majesty." Ren nodded and left without looking back. Mei stood alone at the palace door, speechless for a long time. After a while, her attendant of over a decade, standing behind her with lowered eyes, whispered, "My lady, these are the dishes you made yourself..." What Ren liked to eat was something only Mei, his wife from the beginning, knew. Ren could indulge in whatever he pleased as a prince, but as the emperor, he couldn¡¯t openly show his preferences. If someone with ill intentions exploited them, it could threaten the foundation of Bright Hua. Mei knew Ren hadn¡¯t eaten his favorite dishes in months, so she had personally cooked this meal, hoping he might linger a little longer for the sake of his palate. But clearly, she had misjudged. His aversion to her outweighed everything else. "Throw it away." Mei spoke. The attendant bowed her head lower. She knew that Mei, usually thrifty and considerate of the servants, would share excess food with them. But today, ordering it discarded showed just how deeply her mood had sunk. Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. "I¡¯m tired." Mei walked straight to the inner chambers. After an unknown amount of time, Vermilion Pavilion fell silent. Then, a faint, mournful sigh echoed through the stillness, long and wistful. "Ah..." All of this was witnessed by a pair of eyes. Qing stood at the peak of the imperial city, her gaze piercing through the thick walls and halls, silently observing everything. Normally, within the imperial palace, no one could spy freely. Even the imperial enshrined cultivators couldn¡¯t overstep, or they¡¯d face backlash from Bright Hua¡¯s dragon aura. At best, they¡¯d be gravely injured; at worst, their soul would shatter, their cultivation would collapse, and their lifespan would drastically shorten. But as Ren¡¯s eldest daughter, Qing was naturally immune to the dragon aura¡¯s hostility. She could use spells freely in the palace as long as she didn¡¯t cross a certain line and harm Bright Hua¡¯s dragon aura, which wouldn¡¯t reject her. Seeing her parents¡¯ relationship deteriorate to the point where even the fa?ade of mutual respect was crumbling stirred waves in Qing¡¯s heart. Her gaze shifted to one side of Lunar Tower, a residence halfway up the mountain. It should have been bustling with people, but she had dismissed most of the maids and eunuchs, leaving it cold and empty. Yet one person had been personally summoned by her. Elder Mu. Months had passed, and as the weather grew colder, Elder Mu still wore his tattered robes and loose pants, shivering in the chill wind. Every day, aside from three meals, he chopped wood on one side of the palace. And, of course, there was his increasingly intense lust, day after day. His scrotum, altered by some unknown force, had a terrifying capacity for producing semen. Each ejaculation was like a fountain. If it lasted a little longer, the semen would solidify into chunks, like tofu curds. The stench was unmatched; without concealment, the reek of his semen could spread over a dozen yards. If this place hadn¡¯t been cleared of people, Elder Mu¡¯s abnormality would have been discovered long ago. "Oh!!" Elder Mu lay on his bed, the warm bedding and new room shielding him from the cold wind. Yet his body burned with restless heat. His claw-like, withered fingers gripped his swollen, meaty, scorching cock. The shaft was wrapped in countless bulging veins, rising like earthworms, and the glans had grown even larger. At nearly thirty centimeters, it was almost as thick as his thigh, resembling a monkey¡¯s tail or a third leg. This "leg" stood erect at a ninety-degree angle, pointing straight at the ceiling. The slit at the tip opened and closed with the glans¡¯ swelling and shrinking, like a little mouth. Each time it opened, it expelled thick, transparent precum, dripping onto Elder Mu¡¯s fingers. As he stroked furiously, it coated the entire shaft evenly. His massive, reddish-purple cock glistened under the slick fluid, reflecting a fleshy sheen. "Ohh... ahh..." After a while, Elder Mu let out a groan of pleasure and relief. His thirty-centimeter cock swelled further, the glans reaching its peak, as large as a strongman¡¯s fist. The urethra beneath twitched uncontrollably, pumping out the thick, long-brewed semen from his two goose-egg-sized testicles. But Elder Mu retained a shred of reason. Just before release, he aimed the glans at a water vat by the bed. Dozens of thick, scalding, foul-smelling streams of semen erupted, some solid chunks straining his urethra with a mix of pain and indescribable pleasure. It overwhelmed him, drowning out thought and everything else, leaving only the ecstasy of the explosive release. "Hey!!!" A sudden shout nearly scared Elder Mu out of his wits as he savored the afterglow. Panicking, he scrambled to his feet. A long streak of white semen still hung from his glans, residue from the ejaculation. Ignoring whether he¡¯d fully finished, he pulled on his pants, covered the vat now brimming with his semen with a wooden lid, and shuffled out, head bowed. A maid stood at the door with a food box. Seeing Elder Mu emerge, she caught a whiff of an old man¡¯s odor mixed with an unidentifiable, pungent stench. Wrinkling her nose, she stepped back, unwilling to come within a yard of him. She set down the box and said, "The big portion is for the princess, the small one¡¯s yours." "Thank you, thank you!" Elder Mu nodded obsequiously, bowing repeatedly. His nearly bald head, with only a few scraggly hairs flapping like weeds, was revolting. "I¡¯m leaving." The maid felt like she might vomit. Facing this, she finally understood why others dreaded delivering meals here. Now she knew. With that, she fled as if escaping a plague, running until she was far away, gasping for fresh air. "Why would the princess have him work here...?" Puzzled but not daring to speculate too much about the nobles¡¯ whims, the maid shook her head and descended the mountain. Elder Mu took the food box, first opening his own portion. He pulled out the food and returned to his room, devouring it ravenously. Though not lavish, compared to the scraps he used to eat, this was a rare delicacy. It deepened his gratitude for Qing¡¯s kindness and mercy. Ah! The princess is so benevolent... With his hunger sated, Elder Mu¡¯s extraordinary lust stirred again. He shot another load of thick semen into the half-full vat, then shook his cock with satisfaction. His gaze fell on Qing¡¯s food box, and a dark, thrilling idea suddenly sprouted in his mind. Once it took root, it grew wildly, like vines spreading through his thoughts. Trembling, he reached out, opened the top of the food box, and positioned his cock. With a light stroke, the last drops of semen lingering in his urethra oozed out, hanging from the glans like snot. After a long moment... A drop of semen fell into the still-warm, fragrant rice. Elder Mu shuddered. A thrill far surpassing his own climax surged through him, mixed with fear, dread of committing such a heinous act, and a twisted pleasure he couldn¡¯t name. He quickly rubbed a few more times, letting all the semen from his slit drip into the meal Qing would soon eat. Imagining his semen entering the mouth of the kind, merciful, fairy-like princess, then sliding down her smooth, flat stomach, his cock swelled again, aching with the strain. But he knew his limits. He had to deliver the meal before it cooled. Enduring the throbbing in his groin, he stuffed his iron-hard cock into his pants and carried the box up the mountain. Chapter 19- Unseen Desires Did Qing, as a cultivator, need to eat daily? Not really. At her level of cultivation, she had long surpassed the need for food, sustaining herself on the wind and dew. But as a "human," not an "immortal," she had to live as one. Otherwise, she wouldn¡¯t be cultivating the Heavenly Dao; the Heavenly Dao would be cultivating her. The greatest difference between the immortal path and the demonic path was this: the immortal path, though it sought detachment, wasn¡¯t devoid of emotion. It pursued the Dao, not becoming the Dao itself, aiming for immortality rather than transforming into a vessel of the Heavenly Dao. The demonic path either completely abandoned human desires and emotions, becoming cold and amoral, treating all things as straw to achieve the Dao¡¯s ruthlessness, or it indulged fully in the seven emotions and six desires, seeking to overcome the Heavenly Dao through human will. Qing sat quietly in the center of the grand hall, eyes closed in meditation. Lunar Tower was empty, not a single maid in sight, exuding an air of solitude and chill. Yet her beautiful figure here was like a lone plum blossom on a snowy peak, blooming defiantly against the cold, sweeping away the desolation with its presence. When Elder Mu arrived with the food box and saw Qing meditating, his heart pounded. His pulse raced, though he couldn¡¯t tell if it was admiration or guilt. Not daring to meet Qing¡¯s eyes, he gave a quiet greeting, opened the box, placed the day¡¯s meal on a small table, and stepped aside to wait. Qing opened her eyes, her steps light as she sat at the table. Picking up the chopsticks with her delicate, jade-like fingers, whiter and smoother than the ivory utensils, she sampled the still-warm dishes. As she reached for the rice, Elder Mu, standing aside, flickered his gaze, his hands trembling uncontrollably with a mix of mortal terror and indescribable excitement. Qing¡¯s beautiful eyes glanced sideways at the restless Elder Mu. Her cherry-like lips parted, tender and inviting, as she brought a bite of rice to her mouth, chewing slowly between her teeth. The sweet, fragrant rice spread across her tongue, but there was an odd taste, sticky and faintly pungent, coming from somewhere unknown. Her brows furrowed slightly, but she didn¡¯t feel much revulsion. It even seemed to stimulate her taste buds, prompting her to take a few more bites unconsciously. Elder Mu watched, his heart pounding with both thrill and terror, fearing Qing might notice something amiss. The semen melted in her warm mouth, the once-solid, transparent fluid turning liquid again. Though the countless sperm had lost their vitality after leaving the scrotum, the thick hormonal scent flooded her body, subtly altering Qing¡¯s aura. The solid barrier of her cultivation realm seemed to loosen, ever so slightly. But it vanished in an instant, so fleeting that even Qing wondered if it was an illusion, unable to tell if the sensation had truly existed. After finishing her meal, Qing remained silent for a long time. Elder Mu crept forward to clear the dishes, moving carefully, afraid to disturb Qing¡¯s state of mind. "Today¡¯s meal was good." As Elder Mu prepared to leave with the box, Qing opened her eyes and spoke with her back to him. She didn¡¯t notice the faint crimson flicker in her eyes, gone as quickly as it appeared. Elder Mu froze at her words, a rush of excitement and twisted satisfaction surging within him. But he dared not say anything, only bowing low as usual before leaving the palace. Much later, Qing seemed to snap out of her reverie. Her slender hand brushed against her full chest, feeling her slightly quickened heartbeat. She murmured to herself, "What¡¯s... wrong with me?" Meanwhile, Elder Mu, reveling in his sneaky act, hurried back to his quarters with the food box. He yanked down his pants, revealing his already steel-hard cock. The veins bulged, the glans gleaming and round like a massive mushroom head, a vivid red. Frenzied, he stroked his shaft. Under the dual stimulation of his body and mind, he soon ejaculated. The semen erupted like molten lava, unending. He aimed the glans at his semen vat, and the half-full pool rose higher under the relentless streams gushing like a faucet. "Oh..." He gave a final, indulgent tug from the hairy base to the slit, coaxing out a few tenacious drops that dangled and fell into the vat, connected by thin, reluctant threads. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Elder Mu collapsed on the bed, so comfortable he didn¡¯t want to move. Then, as if struck by a thought, he grew wild with excitement again. Scrambling up, he opened Qing¡¯s food box and stared at the ivory chopsticks. Imagining those chopsticks held by Qing¡¯s delicate hands, lifting rice to her fragrant lips, an uncontrollable urge seized him. Like a madman, Elder Mu licked the chopsticks with his foul, blackened mouth, savoring the faint trace of Qing¡¯s lip scent until they were coated in his stinking saliva. Only then did he stop. Meanwhile, in her main hall, Qing gazed at the sky, her eyes dazed and wavering. She lightly touched her lips. "Sister!" A group escorted a refined, beautiful girl to Lunar Tower. Li rushed into the hall, spotting Qing meditating in the center. She gleefully threw herself into her sister¡¯s arms, nuzzling her small head against Qing¡¯s ample chest, reveling in its warmth and softness. Normally, Qing would have reacted naturally, but the moment Li leapt into her embrace, something flashed through her mind. Her body stiffened, her soft waist turning rigid as wood, unmoving. "Sister?" Noticing Qing¡¯s odd reaction, Li looked up, puzzled. "It¡¯s nothing..." Fortunately, Qing regained her composure in an instant, her demeanor becoming effortlessly natural again. A rare smile, almost impossible to outsiders, graced her face. "You little rascal, tired of playing outside? What brings you here today?" If her fellow disciples at Xian Sect saw the cold, moon-like Qing smiling, they¡¯d slap themselves to check if they were dreaming. But perhaps no one could imagine the fairy-like figure from Xian Sect, who seemed above all desire and emotion, not only fretted over a man... But also had an unclear entanglement with a grotesque, filthy, decrepit eunuch like Elder Mu. If the sect¡¯s disciples, or even the young heroes of the righteous path, knew, they¡¯d likely tear Elder Mu apart, reducing him to ashes. Mentioning her time outside, Li¡¯s face flushed involuntarily. That damned fatso dared to humiliate this princess! In a few days, she¡¯d make him pay! Seeing her sister¡¯s shy blush, Qing felt a pang of unease. To her, Li¡¯s outings meant time spent with Feng. Still, she wouldn¡¯t scold her little sister, though a certain resolve deepened within her. Though each harbored their own thoughts, the sisters chatted pleasantly enough. Just then, a panting eunuch arrived at the hall¡¯s entrance, kneeling to announce, "Eldest Princess, someone outside requests your presence. He claims to be Leon from Sky Sword Sect, here to discuss important matters." "I understand." Qing knew what this was about. Three months after Ren¡¯s ascension, with a month until the New Year¡¯s Grand Assembly, it would prove Bright Hua¡¯s succession was secure and settled. The righteous sects sent their younger generation to the capital not just to meet the new emperor and pledge loyalty, but also to negotiate interests with the court. But "Leon" from "Sky Sword Sect"... Qing frowned slightly. She vaguely recalled him, a refined young man, gentle as jade, unlike his sharp-edged peers. And it seemed he harbored a special affection for her. "Sister?" Li said sweetly, "I¡¯ll take my leave then." Yet her feet didn¡¯t move. Her eyes darted about, feigning indifference, but beneath the cute obedience was a clear, pleading longing, like a puppy blinking hopefully, her stunning yet youthful face screaming "I want to go." Qing couldn¡¯t help but smile, stroking Li¡¯s hair. "Come along." "Yay!" Li jumped with joy, then hesitated. "But... is it proper for me to go?" "It¡¯s just a gathering of righteous young talents. One more won¡¯t matter. Besides," Qing paused, "your Feng will be there." "Really?" Li¡¯s eyes lit up with delight, though she quickly put on a stern face, barely hiding her glee. "Who... whose Feng? I just want to see the world." Qing didn¡¯t bother exposing her sister¡¯s poor attempt at concealment, merely summoning attendants. Taking the little princess out relieved the maids and eunuchs, who¡¯d rather Qing handle their troublesome charge than risk Ren or Mei¡¯s wrath themselves. With a surge of mana, a wind-riding spell lifted the sisters¡¯ feet. In Li¡¯s awestruck gaze, they ascended over a hundred yards, clouds within reach. It was her first taste of immortal arts, thrilling yet nerve-wracking. Afraid of falling, she clung to Qing¡¯s sleeve. Her eyes peered downward, watching the towering palaces shrink to toy-like models, the bustling maids and eunuchs like ants. But then, halfway down the mountain, she gasped in amazement. In late autumn, nearing winter, when trees shed leaves and grasses withered, a patch behind a residence bloomed with lush green and vibrant reds and purples. "Sister, look! Flowers over there!" Qing¡¯s eyes flicked sideways, realizing it was behind Elder Mu¡¯s quarters. But why were the plants thriving so? "Huh!" Li pointed at an ant-like figure below. "Sister, someone¡¯s watering them, but the water¡¯s all white. Is it milk?" A cloud suddenly obscured the view, blocking Li¡¯s sight. It was Qing¡¯s doing, she¡¯d summoned the cloud instantly to shield her sister¡¯s eyes. A mix of shame and irritation flashed in Qing¡¯s gaze. With vision a hundred times sharper than Li¡¯s, she clearly saw the "watering" figure: the wretched, ugly, decrepit Elder Mu. It wasn¡¯t water or milk he poured! It was a bucket brimming with thick, white semen! Even from afar, Qing seemed to smell the overpowering stench. Having been drenched in that thick semen twice before, the memory lingered vividly. In the wind, she unconsciously rubbed her thighs together, her breath quickening slightly. "That eunuch..." Qing¡¯s face burned, her eyes avoiding the sight yet drawn to Elder Mu and his bucket of semen. Her flat, soft stomach inexplicably heated, a spark igniting within, her legs restless with unease. In this world, only two could truly disrupt her composure: Feng and Elder Mu. If Elder Mu heard the princess he adored rated him so, he¡¯d cry injustice thrice, then rejoice madly. Back in Yong Row¡¯s depths, there were channels for waste disposal. Elder Mu could dump his overflowing semen vats at night, the stench masked by the latrines¡¯ odor. But after Qing moved him to the mountainside, no such outlet existed. If the vat overflowed, he had to deal with it locally. Knowing his abnormality could mean death if discovered, and with the palace¡¯s rear mountain largely deserted, he poured it all behind his quarters. His semen, somehow mutated, defied the seasons, making the flowers and grasses flourish strikingly amid autumn¡¯s decay. "Achoo!" Elder Mu, pouring the last half-bucket of congealed semen, half-solid, half-liquid like jelly, sneezed, nearly spilling it on his feet. He scratched his nearly bald scalp, puzzled, as his cock twitched. Unaware, the princess he idolized had just floated overhead, witnessing his absurd deeds. "Elder Mu, bring the food box up..." A voice from the main gate snapped him out of his thoughts. Hastily setting down the bucket, he scurried inside. Chapter 20- Midnight Temptation After curfew, the palace plunged into darkness, all lights extinguished. Only the night watch guards patrolled, their steps echoing faintly. No one else dared roam the grounds. Elder Mu had already settled into bed. As was his nightly ritual, he relieved himself twice, releasing thick, potent yang essence to quench the fire raging in his withered body before slipping into a peaceful slumber. The moonlight cast a gentle glow, the autumn wind carried a mournful chill, and the late autumn midnight bit with cold. Yet it couldn''t mask the tension of a hesitant soul. A soft breeze nudged Elder Mu''s door ajar. A graceful silhouette appeared beneath the moonlight, hazy and indistinct. The beauty''s form stood outlined in the lunar glow, her curves more striking than in daylight. Her high, firm breasts blocked the light, casting a shadow over her taut lower abdomen. One side of her dress caught the moon''s brightness, lifting slightly, while the other half melted into shadow. Her honeyed hips, round like a full moon yet tender like an unripe peach, strained against her skirt''s hem, revealing the tight seam between her legs, a ravine-like groove that teased the imagination. Her breaths quickened with nervous anticipation as her silent steps carried her into the room. This was Qing Jiang''s first time slipping into a man''s chamber under cover of night, especially that of a filthy, decrepit old man like Elder Mu. Elder Mu''s sleeping form was a pitiful sight. He wore a thin, tattered robe, patched countless times. His exposed arms resembled dry, withered branches, and his wrinkled, sunken belly peeked from beneath a threadbare blanket barely warm enough. His aged flesh bore sores and age spots, marks of decades of decay. Below, he lay bare. A cock, monstrously thick beyond human norms, rested soft and coiled like a dormant python. Even flaccid, it stretched seventeen or eighteen centimeters, dwarfing Feng Wei''s erect length. Its head, pressed against his thigh, swelled more than twice the size of Feng Wei''s, a grotesque bulb hinting at its full, ferocious potential. Nestled between his frail, twig-like legs, this massive shaft seemed like a third limb. The pubic hair at its base, unlike Feng Wei''s jet-black, mingled gray and black, mirroring the sparse, graying strands atop his head, a testament to his rotting vitality. "Hmmph¡­" Qing''s eyes darted from the sight of that beastly thing, which had rattled her resolve more than once, unwilling to stare directly. Her breaths thickened through her delicate nose, a strange heat flaring in her chest, clawing at her lungs like an itch she couldn''t scratch. Her peerless face, glowing like icy jade in the moonlight, flushed with warmth. The room reeked of a peculiar stench, a dense aroma of semen that hung heavy, inescapable. Qing''s sharp eyes, piercing even in the dark, caught traces of semen on Elder Mu''s cockhead and thighs, still wet and glistening. Her face burned hotter, a tangle of regret and hesitation churning within. "You can''t do it¡­" Mira Rain''s mocking sneer echoed in her mind, sharp and vivid, alongside Feng Wei''s ecstatic grin at climax. They sliced into Qing''s fractured emotions like knives, shredding them piece by piece. Even Qing didn''t notice how her steps faltered, weak and unsteady. Her slender, refined calves quivered as she edged closer to Elder Mu''s bedside, step by trembling step. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. The nearer she drew, the stronger the semen stench assaulted her, a wave of heat rushing to her head. Yet, oddly, her body didn''t recoil as much as she''d expected. A fiery sensation bloomed in her smooth, flat abdomen, paired with an indescribable itch and unease, as if something wet were seeping from deep within. A crimson gleam flickered in her eyes, growing brighter. "Mmm¡­ ah¡­" Whether stirred by Qing''s scent drifting near or her silhouette blocking the moonlight, Elder Mu stirred from sleep, his eyes cracking open groggily. His gaze blurred, unfocused, as if still trapped in a dream. Spotting the fairy-like Qing by his bed, radiant as the moonlight, Elder Mu didn''t shrink with his usual fear and deference. Instead, a lecherous, pig-like grin split his face. Foul drool oozed from his mouth''s corner, mingling with the lustful gleam in his eyes, painting him as utterly depraved. "Heh heh heh¡­ Qing¡­ Qing¡­" Her heart jolted as Elder Mu awoke, nearly fleeing like a gust of wind. But a closer look calmed her slightly. He seemed convinced this was a dream, his expression dazed and detached, easing her tension a fraction. "Ah!!!" That calm shattered in an instant. Believing himself dreaming, Elder Mu reached out boldly. His withered, branch-like arm snaked around Qing''s youthful, firm, plump hips. His dry, claw-like fingers sank deep into her soft, round flesh through her dress. Ten bony digits dug into her tender, unripe peach-like buttocks. And he didn''t stop there. He kneaded her roughly, like dough. Her flawless, moon-round hips morphed under his grip, now oval, now circular again. The plump, pristine beauty of her hips was defiled repeatedly by this ugly, lowly old man. Her youthful, peach-like hips weren''t alone in their deformation. Hidden deep within her buttocks'' crevice, her shy, tight rear flower stretched and squeezed shut under his brutal handling. After cultivating a pristine body, her clean, untainted passage suffered such savage treatment. His fingers brushed her silk undergarments, the smooth fabric grazing her delicate bud, sending tremors through her legs. Her full, soft thighs tensed uncontrollably. Her round, plump hips, mauled so roughly, shifted from a perfect jade disc into countless shapes, like juicy, snowy dough kneaded by a baker intent on molding it into a mature, rounded masterpiece. Elder Mu''s foul face burrowed into Qing''s warm, smooth abdomen like a boar. The wrinkles on his ugly mug rippled across her clothing, his drool and hot breath seeping through, wetting her belly like scalding mud. She felt his coarse nose probe her dainty navel, each breath striking it directly. A searing heat surged from his fingers, his stinking breath, and his saliva, piercing her thick dress and delicate, jade-like skin, flooding her limbs like dry wood igniting in a blaze. Deep within Qing Jiang''s abdomen, in the most secret chamber of her body, a spring-like bud began to leak sticky, wet heat. A warm, moist trickle flowed from that hidden garden, like waves crashing. A single drop of viscous honey slid down, trembling through the countless tender, burning folds of her sacred passage, too narrow for even a sheet of paper to slip through. Those quivering, pink walls shuddered as if roused by this drop from her deepest core. Qing panicked. Her full, tight thighs clamped together instinctively, like a pure little girl desperate to hold back a flood of fragrant urine, terrified and ashamed, struggling to trap that wet drop from escaping and soaking her pristine undergarments. But her efforts failed. That warm, sticky droplet pushed stubbornly through the tight, wriggling pink flesh, emerging like a mountain spring, trembling and swaying, clinging like a broken thread. It touched her clean, fragrant silk undergarments, instantly wetting a small patch. At that moment, a hundred flowers seemed to bloom, a garden bursting into spring. The room filled with this sticky, fragrant aroma, mingling with the overpowering semen stench, crafting a scent both pure and intoxicatingly arousing. The hormones of man and woman blended in the air, summoning the buried desires of the lone pair sharing this dim chamber. "Qing¡­ you smell so good¡­" Still lost in his dream, Elder Mu grinned foolishly. His cock swelled and hardened suddenly, a towering pillar of steel, burning hot and ferocious like a volcano. The raging dragon''s head flushed crimson and purple, its shaft thicker than Qing''s forearm, its massive head larger than a baby''s fist. Like a predatory lizard flicking its tongue, the slit oozed transparent mucus, dripping slowly. Chapter 21- Fairys Forbidden Desires He sniffed the air like a greedy hound, chasing that fragrance¡¯s source, drawing it in with every breath. A glimmer of delight crossed his face as he seemed to pinpoint the intoxicating scent¡¯s origin. He released Qing¡¯s hips, letting her round peach buttocks snap back to their perfect, moon-like shape with astonishing elasticity. He leaned forward, aiming his head at the damp spot beneath her abdomen, between her full, plump thighs, that dark, bottomless ravine, and exhaled softly. ¡°Mmm¡­ ngh¡­¡± The sensitive core of Qing¡¯s private place took the full brunt of Elder Mu¡¯s thick, hot breath at close range. Even through two layers of clothing, Qing, tasting the desire''s full force for the first time, couldn¡¯t withstand it. Her body went limp, overwhelmed by an unbearable itch and ache, her delicate frame melting like spring mud. Her pearly teeth bit her rosy lips, stifling the moan rising in her throat. Her breaths came in broken gasps, the soft sounds from her nose betraying her heart¡¯s turmoil. Her trembling, softened body shook uncontrollably, her legs losing all strength. She stumbled backward, nearly collapsing to the floor. Sensing the fragrance drifting away, Elder Mu lunged forward, seizing her plump, round buttocks again. His face pressed against her crotch, his nose sucking in air greedily, as if to devour every trace of that sweet scent. His coarse breaths hammered her sealed gates, and despite her will, her body betrayed her, leaking more sticky honey, soaking her undergarments and dampening her outer skirt. Elder Mu, ecstatic, sniffed harder, seeking the aroma¡¯s root. ¡°Mmm¡­ mm¡­ no¡­ no¡­ don¡¯t¡­¡± The wet, hot breath struck her skirt, the fabric clinging to her full mound as it touched and pulled away. Through the two layers plastered to her private place, Elder Mu¡¯s rough, relentless panting assaulted her like a persistent bee, exhaling to wet her dress, inhaling to draw in the sweet nectar. The sensation jolted Qing¡¯s body like an electric shock. In a panic, she grabbed Elder Mu¡¯s frail arm, summoning her last shred of strength to wrench his hands free, liberating her peach-like buttocks from his deep grip. She stumbled back several steps until her back hit the cold wall, finding some support. Her breaths came in chaotic bursts, her breathtaking beauty shining even in the dim night, drenched in sweat. Strands of hair clung to her temples and lips, her eyes dazed and stirred with emotion. It took time for her senses to return. Only then did she realize her body was soaked, her clothes plastered to her tender, jade-like skin. The autumn breeze blew, and though immune to cold and heat, she shivered. ¡°Qing¡­ Qing¡­¡± Elder Mu¡¯s face flickered with confusion. He blinked, seeming to regain some clarity, but before he could fully react, a gust of wind swept through. The moonlit fairy by the wall vanished. He sat alone, staring at the open door, dazed, sniffing the air as if savoring the lingering, intoxicating fragrance. The next morning, a palace maid arrived with food and called for Elder Mu. He scrambled up, enduring her scolding. With no time to add his ¡°special seasoning¡± to Qing¡¯s meal, he grabbed the food box and hurried to Lunar Tower to deliver her breakfast. For the first time, Qing, who usually mediated lightly rather than truly slept, kept her chamber shut tight. The hall stood silent. Elder Mu looked around, scratching his head. He didn¡¯t dare barge into Qing¡¯s chambers, but if the food cooled, she might blame him, and that terrified him. Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. His fear wasn¡¯t of punishment, but of losing her presence. To him, that was worse than death. When Qing awoke, the sun hung high. She opened her eyes to a ray of sunlight streaming onto her bed. For the first time in days, her heart felt at ease, as if her cultivation had loosened slightly. ¡°I¡­ can do it.¡± Qing murmured to herself, as if soothing or answering her own doubts. ¡°So this is my trial¡­ and my opportunity?¡± But she knew she¡¯d stepped onto a path of no return. Self-discipline, emotional restraint, and the suppression of desire. These formed Xian Sect¡¯s core teachings, the path to becoming a celestial maiden, following ancient immortals to a state of knowing emotion yet transcending it, possessing feeling yet remaining detached. Yet human nature persisted. The seven emotions and six desires were innate. Forcing them down builds them up like a dam. Once breached, the locked passions flooded uncontrollably. Many unspoken traitors of Xian Sect fell for this reason. But this was also a potent force, capable of shattering obstacles in her cultivation path. When Qing Jiang emerged into the hall, dressed and composed, the air carried the scent of incense mingled with fish and vegetables. Elder Mu had stuffed firewood into a small incense burner, setting a rack above it with a pot of boiling water. Bamboo strips held the now-warm food aloft, steam rising like a makeshift steamer to keep it hot. ¡°Cough, cough, cough¡­¡± Covered in soot, Elder Mu fanned the flames while blowing air into the fire like a bellows, intensifying the blaze. Seeing Qing enter, his grimy, wrinkled face lit up with genuine joy. ¡°Qing¡­ you¡¯re awake? Come, come eat!¡± Her gaze softened slightly, and she nodded. The warm, delicious dishes and rice landed on Qing¡¯s small table. She picked up her jade chopsticks, chewing slowly. With a glance, she caught Elder Mu, head bowed, sneaking looks at her. His stomach growled, and he swallowed hard. Whether he craved food or her breathtaking beauty, she couldn¡¯t tell. ¡°You haven¡¯t eaten breakfast yet?¡± For the first time, the usually silent and aloof Qing, who rarely spoke more than three sentences a day, inquired about Elder Mu¡¯s well-being. ¡°N-no, not yet!¡± Facing Qing, Elder Mu didn¡¯t dare lie, answering with nervous reverence. Hearing this, Qing set down her chopsticks, pushed the food-laden table forward, and stood to leave the hall. ¡°Eat this.¡± ¡°I¡¯m going for a walk.¡± With a gentle wave, Qing¡¯s white dress fluttered in the breeze, her graceful figure vanishing like ethereal mist. Elder Mu stood stunned in the hall. After a long moment, he shuffled forward hesitantly. Looking at the steaming, fragrant food, his withered fingers trembled as they picked up Qing¡¯s jade chopsticks. Shaking, he scooped up some rice and stuffed it into his mouth. The sweet rice, the savory dishes¡­ and a hint of warmth and fragrance from Qing¡¯s lips lingered. Was it a lapse in propriety, or intentional? Elder Mu felt both fear and exhilaration, a wild excitement bubbling within him. Fear, because Qing had allowed him to use chopsticks that had touched her lips¡ªdid she know of his vile acts from days past? Exhilaration and joy, because Qing didn¡¯t seem to despise him as much. ¡°Qing, you¡¯re so kind to me!¡± Tears streamed down Elder Mu¡¯s face as he ate, sobbing while devouring the meal. After sating his hunger, his mind drifted to last night¡¯s dream. In the dream, Qing¡¯s hazy yet wondrous form glowed in moonlight, her curves breathtaking and delicate. Her shy expression, her full chest tightly bound by her fitted dress, her willow-slim waist, her hips like a ripe yet youthful peach, round as the moon beneath her skirt. Her soft, full thighs pressed together without a gap, the mysterious ravine between them endlessly alluring and intoxicating. He raised his hand, squeezing the air, as if the astonishing elasticity and softness still lingered on his fingers. ¡°It didn¡¯t feel like a dream¡­¡± Elder Mu muttered to himself. Meanwhile, Qing wandered the palace grounds, seemingly aimless, but her steps led her to Vermilion Pavilion, Mei Su¡¯s residence. ¡°Greetings, Qing.¡± The maids and eunuchs knelt in unison. As attendants to Mei Su, they knew Qing and Li¡¯s status in the palace, and Qing¡¯s significance to the royal family. Qing nodded lightly, stepping over the threshold into her mother¡¯s inner chamber. Mei Su reclined on a couch, a half-read book in hand. Her ornate phoenix robe hugged her shapely figure. A jade hand propped her cheek, revealing a hint of her fragrant shoulder. Her fair skin contrasted sharply with the rich colors of her attire, her curves highlighted by her pose. Her high, firm chest strained against the fabric, showing no sign of sagging, while her waist remained lithe and graceful. Her reclining hips rose like rugged peaks, ripe as a summer peach, inspiring awe and desire. ¡°Qing, you¡¯re here? Come, sit.¡± Seeing her daughter, Mei Su beamed with delight, rising to take Qing¡¯s hand and guide her to the soft couch. Her gaze was tender and warm, yet perceptive. She could tell Qing bore a burden, though her expression had eased, suggesting some relief. Chapter 22- Imperial Deals "You don''t look well today. Did you sleep soundly last night?" At the mention of last night, Qing''s body stiffened briefly, but she quickly composed herself, calming her heart. She didn''t answer directly, merely nodding. "Thank you, Mother, for your concern." As a cultivator, sleep was rare for her. Staying awake in meditation was the norm, but Qing wouldn''t explain this to Mei Su, who still saw her as the little girl from years past. "What''s Mother reading?" Qing shifted the topic, dodging further talk of the previous night. "This?" Mei Su''s expression flickered briefly but steadied. She pointed to the book. "Just *The Chronicles of the Virtuous Husband* by Fang Shi." Her mother''s heart still lingered on her father¡­ Qing understood. Mei Su had always aspired to be a wise wife and virtuous mother, as extolled in moral texts, yet she and her father drifted further apart. Qing didn''t grasp her parents'' emotional rift, but she knew Mei Su hadn''t had an easy time these past years. Picking up the book, Qing flipped to where Mei Su had paused. The text read: "The innate five elements, the four symbols aligned with the west, belong to the Western White Tiger, a fate of piercing metal, a woman born under the White Tiger star, destined to harm her husband." "White Tiger?" Qing''s eyes lingered on the words, a trace of confusion in her heart. "You¡­" Mei Su chuckled, gently taking the book back. "This is for married women. You''re a cultivator, reading it is pointless." "Or have you taken a fancy to some young lord?" "Mother¡­" Teased by the person closest to her, Qing couldn''t help but pout girlishly. But at the mention of a young lord, she hesitated. "What''s wrong?" Mei Su, sharp as ever, caught Qing Jiang''s shift. She wasn''t just a palace matron; rumors swirling through the capital reached her ears. She knew Qing cared for a certain man. On this, Mei Su stayed silent, her heart clear as a mirror. She didn''t favor Feng Wei''s flamboyant nature, but as a mother, she hoped Qing would find a good match. Cultivation might lead to detachment from worldly desires, but as a mother, she valued her daughter''s happiness over immortality. If Mei Su knew even Li harbored feelings for Feng Wei, her expression would likely darken instantly. "Nothing." "Is that so?" Mei Su paused, holding Qing''s fair, jade-like hand, before speaking slowly. "Mother knows you have your troubles, and I''m powerless to help. But at least tell me something, so I can understand." "¡­It''s about cultivation." Qing hesitated, her answer evasive yet finally opening up. "I''m lost, yet I feel I''ve found a way. But I lack the courage to¡­ face it." Face what? Face her desires, face¡­ Elder Mu''s monstrous, beastly cock! "Cultivation¡­ Mother doesn''t understand much." The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Mei Su could only offer comfort. "But I know everything takes time. Success doesn''t come overnight, haste won''t do, but you can take it slowly." "Slowly?" Qing murmured. She stood, bowing to Mei Su in gratitude. "Thank you, Mother, for easing my doubts." "You silly child!" Mei Su rose too, lifting Qing and smoothing her hair, adjusting her crown. "We''re flesh and blood, no need for such formality." "You''re right, Mother. I''ll take my leave." Qing prepared to depart. As she left Vermilion Pavilion, she glimpsed guards escorting someone toward Golden Lotus Hall, likely for an audience. Her gaze lingered briefly before withdrawing. Though Emperor Ren''s daughter, she shouldn''t pry into royal affairs so freely. The man being summoned, however, was far from calm. Wally Wang''s obese frame stretched his brocade robe, his fleshy face squashing his features together. His tiny, turtle-like eyes no longer dared dart slyly. Head bowed, he followed the guards through the long imperial path, passing numerous checkpoints. Facing the towering, stern guards, he didn''t dare overstep. Despite his bulk, Wally Wang moved swiftly, keeping pace with the guide ahead. But his heart pounded with unease. For most, an imperial summons brought nervous excitement. In the past, Wally MESang might have felt cautious respect, but now it was half fear, half racing pulse. Prince Ren had become Emperor Ren of Bright Hua. It seemed a mere step up, but while there could be countless princes, there was only one emperor, the sole ruler of Bright Hua''s vast lands. Once partners, they were now lord and vassal. And¡­ his offense against Li. If Li had tattled, Wally Wang couldn''t imagine leaving the palace alive. Molesting a princess¡­ That was a crime punishable by the execution of nine generations! For half a month, Wally Wang hadn''t slept, torn between obsession and regret, captivated by Li''s beauty, yet rueing his lust-driven folly. He trembled, fearing the fierce guards would swarm him, drag him to the Meridian Gate, and behead him. When he reached Golden Lotus Hall, Lord Jian Qian glanced at him. "Lord Jian Qian, a small token, no disrespect meant." Though terrified, Wally Wang knew etiquette. He forced a smile, pulling a gold ingot from his pocket. Surprisingly, the usually greedy Lord Jian Qian refused it. "Wally Wang, I can''t take this¡­ Emperor Ren has been expecting you!" Wally Wang''s fear deepened, his legs nearly giving out. Inside Golden Lotus Hall, incense smoke curled upward, lit even in daylight. The white tendrils rose from the bronze burner''s edges. The surrounding eunuchs and maids stood motionless, like paper figures. Only Emperor Ren on the imperial throne rested with closed eyes. Seeing this dragon-robed figure, Wally Wang''s legs shook. He dropped to the ground, prostrating himself. "This commoner greets Your Majesty! Long live Your Majesty, ten thousand years!" "Wally Wang?" Emperor Ren opened his eyes from his feigned rest, glancing at the quivering man with his head pressed to the floor. A smirk played on his lips. "You seem very afraid of me!" "¡­" Wally Wang didn''t dare speak or answer, only banging his head harder, cold sweat soaking through his clothes. Time passed, how long, he couldn''t tell. Emperor Ren seemed to tire of toying with him, his tone flattening. "Rise." At those words, the taut string in Wally Wang''s heart snapped loose. He felt his body weaken, drenched in sweat. "Thank you, Your Majesty!" He looked up, wiping sweat from his brow with a trembling hand. Li hadn''t told Emperor Ren about that incident. "Why did I summon you?" Amid his busy reign, Emperor Ren had carved out time for Wally Wang. He hadn''t fully replaced the Ministry yet, handling all reports himself. His eyelids drooped, his voice slowing. "You know." This exhaustion, built up over time, wore on his body and mind. Yet the power it brought was a honeyed poison, addictive and exhilarating. No wonder diligent emperors of history burned out young. For now, Emperor Ren reveled in it, immersed in the fatigue. "Last year''s salt trade yielded eighty-nine million taels, customs duties sixty-five million¡­ Before I left, Ming Jiang instructed that this month''s profits have already been sent to the treasury." Wally Wang recited his assets flawlessly, then respectfully pulled a thick ledger from his robe, handing it to a servant to present to Emperor Ren. "This is last year''s accounts, profits and losses detailed within. Please review, Your Majesty." "Since the guild''s founding, we''ve basked in imperial grace and favor. I''m overwhelmed with gratitude, never forgetting Ming Jiang''s kindness. From this day, I willingly offer two million taels of the guild''s monthly net profit for the imperial mausoleum, temple repairs, and filial mourning funds, starting this year for three years." Emperor Ren flipped through a few pages, inspecting it. Hearing Wally Wang''s words, he couldn''t help but smile. This was a plea for mercy and favor. The mausoleum was long finished; this money wouldn''t enter the state treasury but Emperor Ren''s personal coffers. He''d planned to pressure Wally Wang further, but the man proved shrewd. No wonder he''d thrived under Ming Jiang for over twenty years, standing firm as a titan of commerce. "Very well, I accept your loyalty on behalf of Ming Jiang." With that, Emperor Ren leaned back on his throne, closing his eyes in feigned rest, silent. Chapter 23- Shadows of Yong Row Several days had passed peacefully at Lunar Tower. Each morning, Elder Mu awoke from his slumber with a vague sense of loss. He still recalled a vivid spring dream from half a month ago: a divine goddess entering his chamber, her presence hazy yet intoxicating, blending reality and illusion. The sensation of her divine hips lingered in his mind, soft and elastic like gentle waves, driving him wild with longing. Every night, he yearned to relive that dream. This morning, Elder Mu stirred awake to find his lower body straining, the blanket tented high, a towering thirty centimeters. Heat coursed through him as he flung the covers aside, revealing a monstrously thick, impossibly long cock. The purple-red shaft pulsed, crowned by a swollen, crimson glans resembling a giant turtle¡¯s head, oozing sticky precum. Some of the fluid had already stained the blanket, and as it parted from his tip, a long, translucent thread stretched out, trembling like a fragile silk strand before snapping reluctantly. Panting heavily, Elder Mu gripped his shaft with a withered, claw-like hand, stroking the colossal cock that would shame any man. It stood proud and searingly hot, unyielding. His gaze drifted toward Lunar Tower, eyes burning with lust and covetous desire. "Hey! Get out here!" But just as he¡¯d been stroking for half an hour, teetering on the edge of release, thick, foul-smelling semen ready to erupt and defile the air and room, a rude shout jolted him from outside the window. Cold sweat broke out, and his towering erection wilted instantly. Flustered, he yanked on his oversized trousers, hiding his bony, hairy legs speckled with age spots. The massive cock, dangling like a third leg or a tail between his thighs, was stuffed awkwardly into the pants. From a distance, the ill-fitting trousers looked comical, the wide legs clashing with his shriveled frame, like a dwarf clown from a theater troupe playing for laughs. Yet no one would suspect that beneath this timid, laughable exterior hid a titanic rod capable of driving women mad and stirring even immortals. His bulging scrotum brimmed with billions of eager sperm, the thick, white semen congealing into a jelly-like mass, reeking of musk and hormones. Mingled with the decay of age and the stench of unwashed flesh and clothes, it made him a pariah in the palace. Men and women alike shunned him, their eyes filled with disgust. Take the palace maid at his door, for instance. Even from afar, she could smell the faint, nauseating odor wafting from the sealed house. The breakfast she¡¯d just eaten churned in her stomach, her throat itching with revulsion. "Please, do come out!" The door creaked open, unleashing a wave of unspeakable stench. Elder Mu shuffled forward, his wrinkled face and sallow complexion grotesque, like a corpse long overdue for rot. Yet unlike the pale dead, he resembled a filthy old man who¡¯d rolled in a dung heap. The assaulting odor hit the maid, a novice at delivering food here, and she couldn¡¯t hold it back. Turning aside, her stomach heaved uncontrollably. Half-digested food surged up her throat like an unstoppable flood, bursting from her mouth in a mix of gastric acid and rancid scraps. She vomited right in front of Elder Mu. "Urgh, urgh... urgh..." The sound froze the ingratiating smile on his face. He panicked, stepping forward to help her. "Stay back! Don¡¯t come near me, you freak!" Her voice trembled with raw rejection and deep loathing. Elder Mu shrank further, his already hunched frame curling inward. He stammered a few incoherent sounds, head bowed like a bullied old man, sparse hairs falling over his forehead, the picture of abject humility. The maid, having spewed her guts onto the ground, didn¡¯t hesitate to unleash a torrent of abuse. "I can¡¯t believe why Princess Qing would be so kind as to pick you for a servant instead of kicking you out to rot in Yong Row with the beggars." "You don¡¯t even look human, so why don¡¯t you just die already? Bury yourself and spare us the sight! Oh, wait, you don¡¯t even have balls, let alone kids. When you croak, no one¡¯s going to bother burying your sorry corpse..." This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Her sharp tongue stabbed into his timid, fragile heart. He mumbled, "No... n-not... I... I have... balls..." "What?" She laughed as if it were the funniest joke, her scorn thickening. "Balls? You¡¯re a eunuch! A useless, stinking eunuch who should¡¯ve been thrown out to die in a ditch and get gnawed on by wild dogs! What dreams are you chasing here?" "Wahhh... wahhh..." Elder Mu broke down, sobbing like a child, tears and snot streaming over his wrinkled, spotted face. "Wahhh... waaahhh!!!" The mess only made his hideous features more repulsive. The maid had more venom to spit, but seeing his pitiful state and smelling the worsening stench, her stomach churned again. She set the food box down, carefully placing Qing¡¯s portion aside, then kicked Elder Mu¡¯s share over with contempt. "Starve for all I care!" Steaming rice balls and dishes rolled into the dirt, coated in dust. "Eat the dirt, you filthy wretch... what a curse! I¡¯m never coming back!" Cursing, she stormed off without a backward glance. Elder Mu was left alone, wailing pitifully. It took a long time for his sobs to subside into soft sniffles. Shakily, he ignored the grime and, without bothering with chopsticks, grabbed the dirt-streaked food with his bony fingers, stuffing it into his mouth. *Crunch, crunch!* Dust, gravel, and rice mingled as his yellowed teeth bit down, the sound of stone against tooth grating. Yet he ate silently, without complaint, until every scrap was gone, dirt and all. Back inside, he wiped his tears and snot, peering into a clear water basin. The reflection showed his wretched, ugly state. Staring at himself, a flicker of confusion crossed his eyes, but then an odd calm settled in. He washed his face, tidied his disheveled clothes, picked up the food box, and trudged toward the Lunar Tower on the hill. There, a figure like a banished immortal sat gracefully in the pavilion. A breeze lifted Qing¡¯s long hair, her dark strands swaying gently. Her serene eyes gazed into the distance, overlooking Bright Hua¡¯s capital in quiet splendor. She was a living masterpiece. If a famed poet saw her, he¡¯d sing, "A celestial dwells in the mountains, a dreamlike vision in the clouds." A master painter would seize his brush to capture her beauty, creating a timeless work. The scene wasn¡¯t divine for its landscape alone, breathtaking as it was, but for her presence. Without her, it lacked that ethereal charm. With her, it became a mortal paradise. Elder Mu didn¡¯t dare disturb this tranquil beauty. He quietly opened the food box, setting out the meal and still-warm rice before Qing with careful hands, then stepped back, head lowered respectfully. But Qing, sharp as a mirror and calm as still water, noticed his change. "What¡¯s wrong?" Her voice rang like celestial music, cool as moonlight, tinged with curiosity and a hint of concern. "Nothing... nothing..." Elder Mu feigned nonchalance. "Oh..." Qing seemed to accept it with a single word. She ate her breakfast delicately, turning simple vegetables and rice into a feast fit for an immortal. When she finished, she rose from the pavilion and walked to the railing, gazing afar. "I recall you warmed the food last time..." She paused, then asked, "Can you cook?" Elder Mu blinked, then nodded. "Have the Ceremonial Office send ingredients. From now on... no need for the Imperial Kitchen to deliver." "Princess!!" Tears welled in Elder Mu¡¯s eyes as he looked up at Qing, who spoke as if it were a trivial matter. "It¡¯s a hassle for the kitchen staff to keep coming." Her gaze never met his, her tone flat, as if discussing something mundane. "From now on, you¡¯ll handle my meals. Can you do it?" "Yes! Yes, yes, yes!!" Elder Mu nodded frantically, overjoyed, bobbing like a loyal dog. Gratitude overwhelmed him, tears threatening to spill again as he gazed at the ethereal figure he adored. Qing wore a white robe purer than northern snow, her dark hair pinned with an ornate hairpin, the rest cascading like a waterfall. Her sculpted face flowed into a swan-like neck, delicate collarbones peeking from her collar. Below, her breasts rose like unreachable peaks, tempting yet untouchable, their softness a mystery to fantasize over. Her waist, cinched by plain fabric, was slimmer than a spring willow, a flawless curve like a master-crafted vase. Her flat stomach showed no ripple, a serene expanse begging exploration. Her long skirt hid hips round as a full moon, youthful yet pure, like a budding flower or an unripe peach, firm and untouched. Her legs, straight and full, pressed together seamlessly, radiating innocence and allure. Her face was perfection: eyes like stars, bright yet deep, a nose carved by heaven, lips red and smooth as ripe cherries, her features a divine work of art. "Princess..." Suddenly, the pent-up lust from last night surged. Heat flared in his gut, his cock swelling. His loose pants tented again, the massive glans outlined clearly, its mushroom-like ridge pressing against the fabric. The slit rubbed the coarse cloth, leaking precum that soaked a small patch. Elder Mu hunched awkwardly, eyes darting guiltily toward Qing, standing poised and elegant. Yet Qing remained lost in the scenery, not sparing him a glance. Or did she? A faint blush seemed to flicker across her cheek, gone in an instant, perhaps imagined. "Princess... this old servant... this old servant..." Unable to hold back, he yanked down his pants. His gargantuan cock sprang free, a towering pillar thicker than an adult arm, longer still, veins pulsing like writhing snakes. The crimson glans, monstrous as a serpent¡¯s head, throbbed menacingly. ----- The first 2 people can get a free membership of Immortal Vengeance on Patreon [From Chat Section] - patreon.com/VOXI1 Chapter 24- The Heat of Desire The glans swelled and shrank rhythmically, each pulse squeezing out thick, sticky precum from the slit. It dripped down the curve, forming long, lewd strands like saliva or snot, dangling grotesquely. Qing stood motionless, her eyes calm as a moonlit lake, untouched by the world. Elder Mu, driven mad with lust, gripped his towering cock. The contrast between his shriveled hand and the massive shaft was absurd, yet it only emphasized its enormity. Stroking furiously, spurred by Qing¡¯s presence, he reached his limit. With a guttural roar, his cock surged, standing so rigid it nearly touched his sunken belly without support. The already monstrous rod swelled further, veins throbbing audibly, his duck-egg-sized balls ballooning impossibly large. They expanded, then contracted sharply. A bulge formed at the base, like a lead ball, stretching the shaft¡¯s tubes. The seven-centimeter girth bloated to ten, the length hitting over thirty centimeters. *Spurt! Spurt!* A torrent of semen erupted, the force audible, a flood of white sludge bursting forth. Billions of sperm danced in the air, reeking of musk and aphrodisiac potency. But the cool breeze wasn¡¯t their home. Lacking a warm, wet haven, they fell helplessly along the arc of his ejaculation. The onslaught lasted over a minute, relentless. Semen splattered across the pavilion: the roof, railings, chairs, nearby plants, and white stone floor, all coated in steaming white. Some congealed into gelatinous clumps, smacking the pillars. A few streams even hit where Qing had sat, her small table, chopsticks, and bowl now layered in thick, creamy filth. Her faint fragrance mingled with the overpowering semen, creating a strange, arousing scent. "Go now." After a long silence, Qing¡¯s voice remained steady, unruffled. "Yes." Elder Mu felt a pang of disappointment, hoping to see her blush or falter. Had he dared aim at her, drenching her in that flood, would she still be so composed? But this act was already his boldest move; he lacked the nerve to test her limits further. He shuffled to the table, heedless of the mess, gathering her used dishes into the box before retreating quietly. "Whew..." Once he left, Qing¡¯s tense frame relaxed. She exhaled softly, but the air carried the stench of aged semen and male musk, wrinkling her brow. Turning, her steps felt unsteady, a weakness not from drained power but something else: a heat between her thighs, her legs trembling and numb. Seeing the pavilion¡¯s defilement, she shivered. The sight of that thick, congealed semen sparked a fleeting flush in her eyes, recalling the two times Elder Mu¡¯s filth had stained her body. "No... what¡¯s happening to me?" Summoning the *Mysterious Heaven Scripture*, the odd sensation faded. With a wave of her hand, the pavilion gleamed clean again. But as she moved to purge the semen from the withered plants outside, she noticed something odd. The autumn-dead flora bore faint green shoots. "Hm?" She remembered seeing Elder Mu water flowers with his semen in the clouds, making them bloom vibrantly. "Could his... emissions have some divine property?" In the capital, one person was somewhat distracted at this moment, and that was Wally Wang. "Master, it¡¯s been so long since you last did it with your slave..." Wally¡¯s mansion was, of course, the most luxurious in the Golden Yuan Merchant Guild. This time, on his visit to the capital, he brought not only countless gold, silver, and jewels to offer the emperor, hoping to avoid the emperor¡¯s wrath, but also several of his concubines and sex slaves. These women had been chosen by his father, who hoped Wally would produce heirs and many sons. Each one had full breasts and wide hips, their buttocks as large as millstones, all prime examples of fertility, perfect for bearing children. Some were his bodyguards, others were respectable women from good families, and a few were even wives or daughters handed over by guild members eager to curry favor, letting him toy with them as he pleased. Normally, Wally¡¯s body, nourished by countless rare treasures and exotic delicacies, along with his grotesque, oversized cock, couldn¡¯t go a day without release. He¡¯d feel restless and unable to sleep otherwise. When he wasn¡¯t busy with guild affairs, he¡¯d spend his days ravishing women, either visiting brothels or fooling around with the lascivious, fat-assed women in his backyard, often stark naked, holding shameless orgies. But ever since Wally visited the red-light district last month, stepping into a brothel, he seemed like a different man. No longer did he strut around bare-bellied and bare-assed, a lustful fiend who needed to fuck several women and shoot a few thick loads to feel satisfied. Instead, he locked himself in his house, restless and uneasy, often gripped by extreme fear. Yet, he¡¯d shut himself in his room, clutching a single white sock with a crazed, obsessive look, frequently using it to pleasure himself. The women in the courtyard began to wonder if their master had gone impotent. These women, long trained to be utterly depraved, would go weak in the knees and drip with arousal at the mere sight of a man¡¯s cock, unable to walk straight. Today, one of them, unable to bear her lust any longer, stripped naked, exposing her breasts and the wet slit between her legs, and came to seduce him. But Wally, still clutching that dainty white sock, remained entranced. Seeing this, the woman couldn¡¯t resist stepping forward, trying to snatch the sock from his hand and slip it onto her own leg to entice him into fucking her. To her shock, Wally, usually so indulgent, flew into a rage. He snatched the sock back and threw her out. The woman trembled outside the door, resentment brewing in her heart, but she didn¡¯t dare provoke her master further. She was about to return to her room to sulk and use a makeshift toy to relieve herself when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her waist from behind, nearly making her scream. "Shh! It¡¯s me!" The familiar voice instantly melted her tension. She playfully swatted the figure behind her. "You bastard, you scared me to death." "Heh, can¡¯t even recognize your own husband?" the man behind her teased. It turned out they were a married couple. The man was Peng Gua, a manager in the Golden Yuan Merchant Guild, and the woman was Lilly Peng, his wife. Years ago, Peng had offered his delicate wife to Wally¡¯s bed for the sake of his career. This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. At first, Lilly resisted with all her might, but after a few rounds with Wally¡¯s monstrous, radish-like cock, she tasted ecstasy beyond imagination. Soon, she craved it, no longer resisting, even playing coy while welcoming it. Peng fondled Lilly¡¯s massive breasts. When they¡¯d married, her chest had been small and dainty, easily cupped in one hand. Now, after Wally¡¯s relentless groping and development, they were so large that two hands couldn¡¯t contain a single fat tit. The soft, plush flesh spilled between his fingers. As he kneaded them roughly, the cherry-colored nipples swelled red and hard, like soybeans, glistening and tempting. "Mm... mm ah... ah... mm... gentler... gentler... you... damn... bastard..." Lilly moaned, reaching through his pants to grope her husband¡¯s cock. Peng kneaded her giant tits for a while before sliding a hand downward. He found a flood between her legs. Her thick bush was soaked, the hairs plastered together, clinging to her plump mound. Her full labia glistened with dripping juices. With two fingers, he parted them, revealing the pink, blood-flushed flesh inside. The smaller inner lips, delicate as petals, seemed to suck eagerly at his finger as he probed. The tight, wriggling walls gripped him. His other finger slid up along the slit, brushing a pearl-like clit that made Lilly shudder. The jolt of pleasure from her clit left her trembling, her eyes dazed with lust. A gush of hot, musky fluid sprayed from deep within her, soaking Peng¡¯s fingers, his palm drenched in her slick juices. "Darling... you¡¯re such a slut!" Peng teased. "Mm... mm... isn¡¯t it... mm... your fault... for... giving me... to the boss... that I... became... this... slutty..." Lilly replied between broken gasps, her tone laced with faint resentment but no real anger or bitterness. Having tasted the pinnacle of earthly pleasure, Lilly was no longer the woman she once was. She¡¯d drowned in carnal desire, unable to pull herself free. "Bad man... give it... to me..." Peng dropped his pants, revealing a cock not as monstrous as Wally¡¯s but still thick and sturdy, about fifteen or sixteen centimeters long. He pressed it against Lilly¡¯s dripping cunt, her labia parting to kiss the tip of his head. But Peng didn¡¯t thrust in yet. He slid his hand up and down his shaft, teasing her. The tip of his cock brushed her like a paintbrush, sliding from her slit to her puckered asshole, which clenched tight, then back down, the crown parting her swollen lips. Her inner folds clung to his shaft as the head rubbed her sensitive clit. His pubic hair grazed her ripe, peach-like ass cheeks, adding a new layer of stimulation. "How can you call your husband a bad man?" Peng grinned wickedly, rubbing his cock against her mound. Her desperate lips, like a child denied candy, drooled helplessly, licking at his shaft. Her cunt kept leaking, the fluids coating his cock with every stroke, making it glisten and swell even more in the moonlight. "Good... good man... give it to me..." Lilly begged. Hearing her plea, Peng couldn¡¯t hold back. He thrust hard from behind into her starving pussy, her walls cheering as they wrapped around his cock. "Ah... oh... oh..." With ease, Peng buried himself to the hilt, his swaying balls dangling beneath her soaked cunt, her lips gripping the base of his shaft. Her pussy wasn¡¯t tight, having been thoroughly stretched by Wally¡¯s freakish, oversized cock. Peng¡¯s length could only just reach the edge of her womb, unable to plunge straight into her cervix like Wally¡¯s twenty-seven or twenty-eight-centimeter monster could. Wally¡¯s sharp tip was a battering ram, easily breaching her tender cervix with a little force, plunging into her womb and flooding its depths with cum and fluids. "Oh... mm..." But Lilly¡¯s pussy was already a sopping mess, and she moaned lewdly. Though her husband¡¯s cock didn¡¯t match Wally¡¯s awe-inspiring dominance, it was enough to scratch her itch. Hearing her moans, Peng grabbed her swaying tits, his hips slamming into her wildly. His cock pistoned in and out of her drenched hole, her tender flesh answering his assault by sucking him in, as if trying to milk every drop of cum from his balls into her womb. "Feels good, huh?" "Good... so good!" Lilly, lost in the moment, didn¡¯t care if her loud moans disturbed the night. Caught up in the throes of sex, she screamed without restraint, her massive, trained ass rocking back to meet him. When he pulled out, she thrust forward; when he slammed in, she shoved her fat hips back, her pussy eagerly clenching his veiny cock. "Squelch squelch..." "Slap slap... slap..." "Good man, faster... faster..." "Smack smack smack! Smack smack smack!" The sound of his pelvis crashing against her plump ass echoed endlessly, the meaty slaps leaving her cheeks red from the force. Under this intensity, their fucking stretched on for what felt like hours, lasting about four or five incense sticks¡¯ worth of time. Their groins were a muddy mess, their pubic hair matted with a mix of her juices and his precum. Her cum and fluids, churned by his relentless pounding, turned into a frothy white slime that clung to her spread labia and the base of his cock. Each thrust dragged out more droplets, the white mess growing thicker. "Darling... you¡¯re so tight inside... don¡¯t... don¡¯t suck so hard..." Their breathing grew heavier, Lilly¡¯s moans louder. Peng held his breath, feeling her pussy spasm, the suction intensifying. The inner walls came alive, gripping his shaft, and a sudden gush of cum sprayed from her depths, splashing his tip. "Give it to me... good man... give it..." Lilly shook her massive tits, her millstone-sized ass grinding wildly, like a juicer determined to squeeze every drop from the cock inside her. "Darling... I... I can¡¯t hold it... I¡¯m gonna... shoot it in you!" Peng couldn¡¯t take it anymore. With a few final, brutal thrusts, he buried himself deep, his cock swelling as his balls, dangling outside her cum-slicked cunt, unleashed a torrent. His tip pressed against her womb¡¯s edge, pulsing as semen shot from his slit, flooding her insides in a chaotic burst. "Oh... oh... good man... you¡¯re shooting so much... it¡¯s so hot, I¡¯m gonna burn up..." Lilly¡¯s body quaked, her chest thrusting forward as if it might snap, her waist arching, her shoulders leaning back against Peng¡¯s. Like a bowstring pulled taut, her ass pressed hard against his hips, her lips sucking fiercely. Her womb mixed her cum with his seed, some flowing past her cervix into her fertile depths, some gushing out with her fluids along his shaft, spilling over her lips and his balls, dripping in thick, white globs to the ground, reeking of raw lust. "Pop!" "Ah..." As his softening cock slipped out, the juice-drenched hole and tip made a wet sound, sending another shiver through Lilly. They both sighed, his limp cock dangling defeated over his balls. "Darling, suck it for me." Fresh from their romp, Lilly¡¯s eyes were hazy with lust, her demeanor lazy and exhausted, her legs too weak to stand. She shot him a playful glare at his request. But obediently, she squatted down, her plump ass cheeks spreading. Her freshly fucked pussy glowed red, its swollen lips parting with her stance, revealing the tender flesh and inner lips within. Her clit twitched, still savoring the high. Lilly stuck out her tongue, licking the steaming cock coated in a mix of his cum and her juices without a hint of disgust. She took it into her mouth, her lips clamping tight, her tongue swirling around the head and shaft, meticulously cleaning every trace of filth. She swallowed the blend of saliva, cum, and fluids, her throat bobbing as it went down. Between her spread legs, her cum-stuffed pussy gaped slightly, the pink depths endless. Thick, white semen teetered at the edge, dangling between her thighs. As her asshole clenched and relaxed, her pussy opened and closed, spitting out globs of cum that dripped to the floor, a long white thread linking the puddle to her hole. Finally, she licked his balls clean, lapping up the ring of cum and fluids without missing a drop. When she released his cock, a few white streaks lingered at the corner of her mouth. She gave Peng a coy smile, opening her mouth to show him. Her dainty mouth was filled with his white semen, swirling between her lips and teeth. As her tongue danced, the translucent cum bubbled, forming a frothy foam on her palate. The stench of it filled her mouth, yet she reveled in it. Peng¡¯s spent cock twitched, jumping like a dying fish fighting to revive, slowly stiffening again. Lilly¡¯s eyes lit up with delight, sparking with seduction. She closed her lips, swallowed with a loud "gulp," then opened her mouth again to show it empty. She jiggled her waterbag-like tits, swaying enticingly, as if begging to be filled once more. "You filthy slut, always begging for more..." Peng smirked lewdly, his cock hardening further. He slapped her face with his half-erect shaft, making a "slap slap" sound. "Peng, come in." Wally¡¯s voice suddenly boomed from the room, startling the couple mid-flirtation. Peng hurriedly pulled up his pants, whispering to Lilly, "Wait for me in our room." Peng adjusted his clothes and crept inside, while Lilly, naked, stumbled back to her room under the moonlight. The room was extravagantly furnished, priceless antiques and paintings strewn carelessly about by Wally. At its center was a bed big enough for ten, where a mountain of fat, Wally himself, sat bathed in the glow of a night pearl, the room bright as day. He gazed obsessively at the thin white sock in his hand. The thought of little princess Qing¡¯s budding figure, her youthful yet stunningly beautiful face, her slender, ivory-white legs more perfect than anything crafted by the heavens, far surpassed the vulgar whores he¡¯d known. "Once you¡¯ve seen the ocean, no river compares; after Witch Mountain, all clouds pale." That was Wally now. Having glimpsed Qing Jiang¡¯s unmatched allure, he could no longer stomach the black, shriveled cunts of brothel whores or the lust-drenched women in his courtyard. Wally didn¡¯t bother scolding Peng and Lilly for their tryst outside. Still staring at the sock, he asked, "How¡¯s the task I gave you going?" "Master, it¡¯s done," Peng replied. "The spirit silk from the Soul Ice Silkworm and Thousand Nether Spider has been sent to Thousand Machines Pavilion. I¡¯ve hired their best weaver this year to ensure the finest silk stockings in the world for you. They¡¯ll be ready soon!" "Hm." Wally nodded. "The sooner, the better. Spare no expense. By the way, how many pairs can this year¡¯s yield from the Soul Ice Silkworm and Thousand Nether Spider make?" "About ten pairs or so." "Good, then make ten!" "Uh..." Peng hesitated, lowering his head. "What about the Azure Robe Sect?" "Tell them the emperor requisitioned it. If they want answers, they can ask His Majesty." "Yes, sir." After saying this, Peng went back to Lilly¡¯s room....."ah!" The night passed wordlessly, the sun rising high before the curtains fell. Last night¡¯s storm of passion? A phoenix playing with two dragons.