He was all alone.
Only him and this beautiful female corpse.
The woodcutter slowly squatted down, stretched out his rough, calloused hand, and touched her cheek with trembling hands.
It's cold.
Slippery.
soft.
It was like touching a piece of chilled jade, or a lump of solidified cream. Her skin was incredibly smooth, without any pores or blemishes, maintaining its perfect condition even in death.
The woodcutter's breathing became more and more rapid.
His fingers slid from her cheek down her neck, collarbone, and shoulders... then stopped at the collar of her Taoist robe. The collar of the robe was slightly open due to the loose belt, revealing a patch of snow-white cleavage and the faint outline of her undergarments.
He swallowed hard and gripped the wood-chopping knife tightly—not for self-defense, but to suppress the elation and fear within him.
finally...
We found another one.
And it's so fresh and so perfect.
The woodcutter took a deep breath, planted his axe in the ground, and then grabbed the woman's shoulders and knees with both hands, lifting her up with all his might. Her body was surprisingly light the bodies of cultivators had long been tempered by spiritual energy to surpass those of mortals, and even an adult woman would only weigh seventy or eighty pounds but the heavy touch made the woodcutter's heart pound like thunder.
Her head drooped limply in his arms, her long hair cascading down like a waterfall, her cheek pressed against his soaked chest. Her body remained supple due to the "jadeification" process, unlike the stiffness of an ordinary corpse, instead possessing an eerie, living quality as if she were merely asleep, ready to awaken at any moment.
But she won't wake up.
She is dead.
The woodcutter carried her and strode toward his dwelling a dilapidated wooden hut hidden at the foot of a cliff, surrounded by huge hemlock trees, making it difficult to spot even during the day, let alone on a stormy night.
As he walked, he looked down at the female corpse in his arms.
Rainwater streamed down her cheeks, her lips remained slightly parted, the tip of her pink tongue peeking out. The woodcutter's gaze fell on those parted lips, and a low, almost beastly groan escaped his throat.
He wanted to kiss her...
But not now.
Now is not the time.
He wanted to take her back, wash her clean, place her in a dry, warm place, and then... enjoy her slowly.
A dim oil lamp was lit inside the wooden house.
The woodcutter kicked open the door, carried the woman's corpse inside, and slammed the door shut. The room was filled with the smell of pine resin and mildew. Bundles of firewood and hunting hides were piled in the corner, and a few coarse cloth quilts were laid on the simple wooden bed.
But on the wall next to the wooden bed hung a row of crudely made wooden hooks—with several tattered robes, a broken flying sword, and a few storage bags (which couldn't be opened). These were the "spoils of war" that the woodcutter had scavenged from the female corpses he had found over the past few years.
In the corner of the cabin, there was a stone staircase leading downwards leading to the underground ice cellar he had dug, where his "collection" was stored.
But he doesn't plan to send her to the icebox tonight.
Tonight he wants to... taste her. (◕દ◕)
The woodcutter gently placed the woman's body on the wooden bed, then straightened up and stared down at her. The light from the oil lamp flickered on her pale face; her slightly furrowed brows, her half-open lips, the curves outlined by her soaked white Taoist robe clinging to her body... everything about her was alluring to him.
His crotch was so swollen it was painful.
The woodcutter took off his soaking wet hemp clothes, revealing a strong, rock-like body his muscles, honed by years of chopping wood and hunting, were clearly defined, and his bronze skin was covered with scars of all sizes. He was shirtless, wearing only a pair of coarse cloth shorts, with an exaggerated bulge in his crotch.
He took a deep breath and reached out to grab the collar of the female corpse's Taoist robe...
Then tear it open forcefully.
"Sizzle"
The sound of tearing fabric was particularly jarring in the quiet wooden cabin.
The woodcutter's movements were rough and urgent. He tore her Taoist robe from the collar all the way to her waist, revealing the white undergarment underneath a strapless bra made of thin silk that tightly wrapped around her high breasts, outlining their round and full contours.
The undergarment was also soaked by the rain, becoming semi-transparent, and one could vaguely see the pink areolas and erect little protrusions inside...
The woodcutter's breathing grew heavier and heavier.
He reached out and grabbed her belt—the dark green jade belt was now loose and could be completely untied with just a gentle pull.
His fingers trembled as he grasped one end of the jade belt...
Then pull hard.
"Clatter"
The jade belt fell to the ground with a crisp sound.
The Taoist robe was completely open...
The woodcutter stared at the scene before him and let out a suppressed growl.
She wore a white strapless top and matching white panties, the thin silk clinging to her cold skin, outlining every curve of her body-full breasts, a slender waist, a flat stomach, rounded hips, and long legs…
She lay on the rough wooden bed like a perfect work of art, letting him do as he pleased.
The woodcutter reached out and grabbed the edge of her strapless bodice...
Then pull downwards forcefully...
"--hiss--"
The strapless bra was torn open, revealing a pair of snow-white, full breasts.
They were larger, firmer, and more perfect than he had imagined round as jade, soft as cream, with pink areolas and delicate nipples at the top. Even after she died, her breasts remained upright, without any sagging or loosening, just like those of a young girl who had just reached puberty.
The woodcutter stretched out his rough, large hand and grabbed one of the breasts...
"Hold..."
He muttered a curse under his breath, then began to knead it forcefully.
Cool, soft, and smooth the texture is so wonderful it's maddening.
His hands completely enveloped her breasts, squeezing, kneading, and pulling them forcefully. His rough palms rubbed against her delicate skin, arousing waves of strange pleasure. Her nipples were pinched between his fingers, gradually becoming engorged and hard, forming two small protrusions.
But she didn't react at all.
There was no groaning, no struggle, not even a furrowed brow.
She simply lay there quietly, letting him do as he pleased.
Because she is already dead.
The woodcutter lowered his head, opened his mouth, and took her nipple into his mouth.
The cool touch stimulated his tongue, and he sucked, licked, and nibbled at it forcefully, as if trying to swallow her nipple whole. His other hand continued to knead her other breast, the rough movements causing it to deform, bounce, and tremble.
"Ugh... Hah..."
The woodcutter let out suppressed gasps; his crotch was so swollen it felt like it was about to burst.
He released her mouth, raised his head, and stared at her pale face her expression remained unchanged, only her lips were slightly parted, and the tip of her tongue was faintly visible, as if silently tempting him.
The woodcutter reached out and grabbed her underpants...
Then pull downwards forcefully...
"Sizzle"
Her panties were torn in half, exposing her most private parts.
It was a patch of smooth, hairless, tender flesh, tightly closed, leaving only a shallow slit. The mons pubis was slightly raised, the skin as white as jade, without any blemishes or pigmentation this was the body of a cultivator, already tempered by spiritual energy to surpass that of mortals, even the most private parts were breathtakingly perfect.
The woodcutter's breathing became completely out of control.
He pulled down his shorts, revealing his engorged penis... 🍌
It was a colossal object, over twenty centimeters long and as thick as an arm, with purplish-red veins coiled around its shaft. The glans was as large as a fist, the coronal sulcus deep, and clear pre-ejaculate constantly seeping from the urethral opening. The entire penis was slightly upturned, radiating intense heat, a stark contrast to her icy body.
The woodcutter knelt on the bed and spread her legs apart.
Her body remained supple due to the "jadeification," and her legs were easily spread into a large "M" shape, revealing her tightly closed flower bud and the pink chrysanthemum below.
The woodcutter stretched out his finger and pressed it on her vulva...
Cool, firm, and moist (soaked by rain).
He vigorously rubbed that tender slit, his rough fingertips rubbing against her delicate skin, gradually parting her labia to reveal the pink flesh inside and the tightly closed little hole...