In fact, no matter what she wore, even minimal movement would cause her nipples to press against the fabric, squeezing out milk and leaving behind dark, wet stains.
She truly hadn't anticipated such a transformation after merging the "Pure Yang" essence into her body; the fusion of Pure Yang and Pure Yin constitutions was unprecedented—there wasn't a single example to be found in ancient texts.
It was a phenomenon without parallel in history; while the exact nature of the changes was unknown, the lactation itself was not difficult to explain.
Li Zhiyu was a master of "Taboo-level" power; even the residual Pure Yang essence far exceeded what her body could naturally contain. The excess essence had thus given rise to this unique and precious milk.
It contained not only the Pure Yang essence but also the quintessence of Pure Yin. The combined effect was extraordinary—far surpassing that of either Pure Yang or Pure Yin alone. A single drop could revitalize withered wood; its value was beyond measure—worth more than gold—and were it to become known, countless powerful tycoons and wealthy elites would clamor for it. "What is to be done?" Jiang Yingji seemed to be murmuring to herself. Her massive breasts—shaped like perfect, elongated melons with slightly upturned, pointed tips—swayed gently with her breathing. A bead of snow-white fluid welled up from the hollow at the nipple's tip, hanging precariously beneath it; with the next breath, the bead burst, sending a fine, white stream tracing a winding, glistening path across the fullness of her under-breast.
The air was instantly suffused with a strange, intoxicating fragrance—sweet as honey and floral, a scent that made one's bones melt and heart tremble.
The old servant licked the corner of his mouth; the taste still lingered on his lips, impossible to forget. Hearing the Queen of Shanghai's musings, he too fell into deep thought; he had no desire for others to learn of the existence of the "Mystic Peak Precious Milk."
It was a peerless treasure—secreted in small quantities only after a woman with a "Pure Yin Body" conceived—yet here, one could feast upon it to one's heart's content. Any fellow practitioner who learned of this would surely go mad with desire.
He had not forgotten that even if they managed to escape this place, they would still have to face Jiang Hua—a monster of unfathomable hidden power.
He pondered, searching his memory for a solution. As the Grand Preceptor of the Great Ming, he was privy to many secrets of the imperial court, including those involving sorcery. While these were not the orthodox paths to immortality, they encompassed a variety of intriguing, esoteric arts.
For instance, the Emperor possessed countless concubines; naturally, some were favored while others were neglected—some even went their entire lives without ever laying eyes on the Emperor. In such circumstances, it was inevitable that resentful concubines would engage in illicit affairs.
Although, theoretically, there were no "real men" within the imperial palace, there was one class of people who could freely enter and exit its precincts... Daoist priests. Emperors, ever-desirous of immortality, were obsessed with cultivating the Dao and concocting elixirs—pursuits that naturally required the presence of Daoist priests. Consequently, concubines who had fallen out of favor found illicit lovers among them; and should a pregnancy accidentally ensue...
...means to conceal it would naturally be required. These included minor illusions to hide the growing belly, as well as arts to prevent the leakage of breast milk that might otherwise arouse suspicion.
A thought stirred in the Old Servant's mind. Although he had merely glanced at those techniques in passing long ago, for a master like him—who had managed to survive this long relying solely on his spirit—possessing a photographic memory was the bare minimum.
He could easily conjure up various spells, yet executing them required physical coordination. Within his original body—that of a congenital vegetative patient—such feats were impossible; the body's physiological activity was far too sluggish. It was akin to attempting to run a massive, complex program on a primitive 1980s microcontroller: forcing the operation not only drained his mental energy but resulted in abysmal efficiency.
This was precisely why he was so desperate to seize a new body.
Now, however, as this body came to life and his compatibility with it deepened, he could gradually attempt spells that had previously been beyond his reach. This capability served as one of the trump cards he held against Jiang Yingji.
Thus, after the initial, reflexive panic, the old servant grew increasingly confident; at the very least, he was no longer in danger of having his soul obliterated by a mere thought from the Queen of Shanghai.
He was now more concerned with his own interests than with how to save his life under Jiang Yingji's command.
"Mistress, I possess a minor spell that can stop the leakage of breast milk."
Although this minor spell was simple, it remained incredibly arcane to modern sensibilities—even comprehending it posed a challenge, which was a primary reason why the old schools of cultivation were gradually fading into obscurity. Jiang Yingji, however, was an exception; while the experience hadn't been pleasant, she had studied such lore since childhood, so mastering the technique was not difficult for her.
Upon casting the spell, Jiang Yingji felt a distinct tightening in her nipples, and the tiny openings at their tips visibly narrowed.
The leakage did indeed cease, yet a sensation of tender fullness became pronounced whenever her breasts swayed.
Seeing the Queen of Shanghai knit her brows while adjusting to the sensation with her cherry lips, the old servant allowed a faint smile to play upon his mouth. Naturally, this spell treated the symptom rather than the root cause; after all, such a simple, superficial incantation could hardly bring about a fundamental physiological change.
That level of alteration required the "Core Formation" stage of cultivation; this minor spell merely sealed the nipples shut.
Milk would continue to be produced ceaselessly—albeit in slightly reduced quantities—so it still needed to be expressed once or even several times a day to prevent painful engorgement. However, there was no need to worry about that; he would help the Queen of Shanghai resolve the issue...
Having temporarily dealt with the lactation problem, Jiang Yingji put on a lace-and-sheer-mesh bra. Although she disliked the added restriction when wearing evening gowns, as the Queen of Shanghai, she was fastidious about hygiene; the dress she had found in the nightclub was cut so low that her areolas were nearly visible.
She chose to wear the bra before slipping into the high-slit evening gown.
Once that was done, a wave of drowsiness washed over Jiang Yingji again. The "Pure Yang Essence" she had absorbed from Li Zhiyu was immense—far from easy to fully assimilate—so she could not remain awake for long.
This was precisely why she had decided to keep the old servant nearby; falling into a deep sleep without anyone to watch over her would be far too dangerous.
She vividly recalled how the person who had knocked her unconscious moved with ghostly stealth—rivaling even the old servant's agility. Yet, she did not suspect the old servant. Even though she hadn't seen the attacker's face, the moment before losing consciousness, she had clearly sensed the burning-hot body of a young man.