Shi Yang knew two things for certain:
One, he was a pervert in every sense of the word.
Two, he might have just become the luckiest bastard alive.
Most people read stories and crafted their own fantasies to escape reality. They stared at their screens, clicking through novel after novel, imagining themselves flying through the skies. Holding strength enough to shatter mountains. Wielding weapons so sharp they could pierce the heavens. Or, at the very least, wishing to plunder the sweetest cherries of the most beautiful flowers.
Shi Yang?
His fantasies had come to life. He had stumbled into the cultivation world overnight. His pants down. The scent of lavender candles and warm oils brushing against his nose.
His name being called repeatedly was the first thing that filled his ears, as he felt a slimy liquid rubbing around his unsheathed—or in this case, sheathed—length. Its hardness stood fully erect.
He let out a pleased grunt, his fingers tangled in strands of hair. His eyes focused on the blurred face between his legs, their lipstick smudged as they struggled to wrap their lips tightly around his meaty shaft.
Who is this? he thought, struggling to grasp reality. His lips refused to part, fighting back a moan as his toes curled and his knees locked from pleasure.
The person's fingers gripped the base of his shaft, rubbing and hollowing their cheeks to give him greater attention. "Is this really…" he paused, feeling his glans press against something wet. It took him a moment to realize it was the back of his courtesan's throat.
Fragmented memories of the White Lotus Pavilion resurfaced.
The events of this world's Shi Yang—the one whose body he now occupied—flashed into his mind.
The White Lotus Pavilion was unlike the red pavilions, which existed solely for pleasure. No—this was a place of exchange. It offered no official sexual services. Yet, if one desired them, the pavilion would find you a companion, all under the pretense of creating "connections" between practitioners.
And in Shi Yang's case, such connections had been created… in the form of countless one-night stands and long-term "acquaintances."
And currently…
Han Jie was one of them.
He looked down at the figure sucking his heavenly rod as though it were a lord's cherished piece of jade. Han Jie's slobbery tongue glided up and down its full length, while gentle fingers stroked him towards the heavens.
Shi Yang's eyes widened, completely stunned at the scene of his first sexual encounter after cheating death. He scanned Han Jie's features—
Black hair tied in twin buns. Big doe eyes. A white set of garments that revealed only what she chose to: an O-ring top covering her milk peaks, a loosely worn mouth veil, a skirt, hair flowers, and other accessories.
What…?!
Shi Yang's manhood throbbed uncontrollably, warmth and saliva washing over it as Han Jie's delicate lips worked at bringing him to release. His eyes hazed, misty from the foreplay.
His gaze met Han Jie's.
Their soft eyes melted something inside him. The Qi patterns on his abdomen flared. His Yang essence swirled, and his Golden Dragon Technique turned his arousal into a raging rod of golden veins and fabled scripts.
Did I just transmigrate??? No, no, no—WAIT—
Those were his first thoughts. Not joy. Not gratitude. But panic. His hand pulled Han Jie's head back as more knowledge of this pavilion and this world poured into his mind.
But it was too late.
His hips bucked. Han Jie grabbed the half of his shaft he had managed to pull free. His release spurted out in a fury of hot semen. Han Jie's eyes widened before their mouth lunged forward, burying his head into Shi Yang's thighs.
Shi Yang knew three things for certain:
One, he was a pervert in every sense of the word.
Two, he might have just become the luckiest bastard alive.
Three, that second statement was deceiving.
Han Jie's lips wrapped tightly around his shaft, sucking him dry, tongue gently caressing the underside of his manhood, coaxing more of his nectar from his confused vessel.
Shi Yang grunted between Han's slurps, his eyes narrowed in disbelief. "... Female Extinction…"
He should have been repulsed.
Angry. Or at the very least pushing Han Jie away.
But he didn't. Instead, his hands pressed Han Jie's slurping mouth closer.
His eyes darted from Han Jie's face to the pavilion walls, the candles, and the furniture. The inherited memories of more than a hundred years had fully settled.
Female Extinction.
This was the name of the calamity that unfolded more than three centuries ago, an event that had led to the world's absence of women.
Three hundred and twenty years ago, a man known as the Immortal Road Sage—a ten-thousand-year-old Core Formation cultivator with a perfect golden core, his talent unmatched across the continent—stood above all beings and delivered a shattering proclamation.
His voice was not merely spoken. It thundered across mountains, seas, and skies, heard in the marrow of every living being:
"Cultivation is the will of the human spirit… the endless march of selfishness. That—above all else—is what I have come to understand in this lifetime."
As his words fell, the heavens trembled. A starless night split open. A colossal maw unfurled in the firmament, its edges lined with ancient scriptures no mortal tongue could decipher.
Across the continent, flying ships filled the skies. Their decks brimmed with sect elders clad in ceremonial robes, banners of forgotten sects fluttering in radiant splendor. Thousands of disciples chanted, their spells propelling the sky-vessels like divine chariots. Mortals and rogue cultivators below trembled as women, children, and infants were seized from villages and towns alike, drawn up the rope ladders into the heavens.
Then came brilliance.
Above Hu Meng City, the greatest gathering place of mortals and rogue cultivators of that era, a golden light blazed into being. From it rose a figure—towering, radiant, armored in celestial gold, clutching a dragon spear that seemed to pierce the very heavens. In the blink of an eye, the figure eclipsed the city, standing as if it alone bore the weight of the world.
Whispers spread like wildfire, yet none dared breathe too loudly—
Peak Nascent Soul!
Though only a soul projection, the figure's might suffocated all beneath it. And across the lands, similar titanic projections mirrored this sight.
But in truth, the real body of the Immortal Road Sage stood alone before the gaping maw of heaven. His white hanfu flowed like the mist of dawn, his eyes clear and sorrowful, and his long grey beard and hair drifted as though stirred by the breath of the Dao itself.
Chen Tao.
The name is etched forever into history.
His hand brushed his beard as he gazed upon the churning abyss. His words rang once more—not a declaration, but a command that bent the wills of those who heard:
"My dearest Daoist sisters, mortal mothers, and daughters—hear me. I have torn open the doors to the Forgotten Immortal Planes. Only I, and those I have chosen, shall pass through these lesser realms."
The scriptures in the sky burned brighter, their glow bleeding into reality. The maw shifted, revealing a distant violet cosmos beyond—a realm that seemed a mirage, yet grew clearer as the air thinned and Qi scattered.
Chen Tao's voice deepened, as if the world itself spoke through him:
"The balance of this world's veins has shattered. The immortal road has been carved into its marrow. Even now, the Heavenly Gate devours its essence."
Silence. A silence so deep it crushed the hearts of all who listened. Then—
"Thus, I make this request—the last selfishness of a sage: O women of this world, become the partners of my chosen. Become my disciples' companions, my daughters, my wives. This realm dies even as I speak—board my ships, or be consumed by the void."
And in that moment, the fate of the world shifted forever.
—
But, in this new world of scattered beauties, hungry brothers, and unlikely encounters, a man not of this universe crossed paths with a woman not of this world—masquerading in the land of lions without a mask.
—
Han Jie's dantian stirred in response to Shi Yang's yang essence. A faint smile tugged at her lips.
Buying those old dual cultivation techniques of the past really was a hidden profit. With this, I'll be able to break through to the Nascent Soul Realm… in five centuries.