Time always passes quickly during cultivation.
In the blink of an eye, three days and three nights had passed.
In a boudoir filled with a delicate, lingering fragrance, deep behind brocade curtains, Ling Changqing lay in the middle of the embroidered bed, his eyes half-closed in a state between sleep and wakefulness.
The tall and voluptuous Ling Bingyun lay nestled in his left arm, while the curvaceous and alluring Tang Qiu Yao was on his right, clinging to him like an octopus.
Fu Yin Xue, whose figure was nothing short of explosive, lay on her stomach before him. Her lustrous, jet-black hair cascaded like a waterfall over the Phoenix Harmony Brocade Quilt.
As for Ling Yulu, Qin Yun, Ling Yuzhu, Xue Qingtan, and Meng Feiyu, the women were sprawled about in disarray. Their flushed, beautiful faces were tranquil and gentle, their dazzling, snow-white bodies on full display.
