A full week had been left behind on the dirt road.
The colossal armored carriage swayed gently under the constant trot of the copper-scaled beasts. On the driver's seat, Mò Zhōng kept his eyes fixed ahead, deaf and blind to everything happening behind him. The old butler heard not a single moan. Zhì Yuǎn's territorial possessiveness had sealed the cabin walls with dense layers of Qi, preventing any sound or scent from escaping.
The interior of the compartment was saturated with a humid, heavy heat, carrying an intoxicatingly sweet aroma — the natural perfume of deities immersed in complete depravity.
On the black velvet floor, Mò Yán and Yù Méi lay intertwined. The youngest rested with her face buried between her sister's full breasts, their bodies covered in the vivid marks of their husband's possession: purple bruises on their thighs, deep bite marks on their shoulders, and dark hickeys scattered across their necks and chests.
Even though both were practically unconscious, Yù Méi's hand still lazily kneaded one of Mò Yán's enormous breasts. Every squeeze drew a low, trembling moan from the snow beauty. Their bodies rubbed slowly against each other, wet and sensitive, in a lascivious and unconscious tangle, eyes rolled back from residual pleasure.
Kneeling between their thighs, Yù Qíng continued working without the slightest sign of fatigue. The eldest kept her cold hands resting on her own thighs, her face leaning forward, slowly swallowing her husband's thick shaft.
Even taking only half of it, his size and hardness still struck hard against the back of her throat. Zhì Yuǎn firmly held the back of her neck, pinning her head in place as he pressed deeper.
The asphyxiation came immediately.
Yù Qíng did not pull back. Her black eyes rolled back in pleasure, her small body trembled violently, and she came hard just from having his flesh obstructing her breathing. Intense spasms ran through her body as she tightened her lips around him.
Zhì Yuǎn clenched his jaw and released his essence.
A thick, hot, powerful torrent gushed straight down her throat. Yù Qíng swallowed greedily, milking every drop with devotion. For more than a full minute she drank, refusing to waste even a single drop of that vital power.
When the flow finally slowed, Zhì Yuǎn released her neck.
Yù Qíng slowly pulled back, taking a trembling breath. A thin silver thread connected her reddened lips to the glistening tip of his member. She wiped the corner of her mouth with her thumb and raised her gaze, her black eyes overflowing with blind adoration and complete satisfaction.
Zhì Yuǎn stroked her black hair with his large hand, rewarding her devotion.
His gaze then shifted to the cabin window. The horizon of dry trees passed slowly. A week of travel had barely covered an insignificant fraction of the distance.
"I have already comprehended enough of the complexity of the Laws of this plane," he murmured, his voice deep and calm. "We have spent enough time on the road. Wake your sisters and get dressed. We will tear space straight to the central sects."
------
The armored carriage stopped with the creak of iron brakes.
The old Mò Zhōng descended from the driver's seat and waited silently on the gravel of the road. Seconds later, the heavy iron-reinforced wooden door opened.
Yù Qíng was the first to step out. The navy-blue silk fell impeccably over her petite body, and she floated gently a few inches above the ground, wearing a serene and satisfied smile. Right behind her, Mò Yán and Yù Méi descended the steps, also barefoot and floating, though leaning on each other. Despite floating, their long legs still trembled visibly, their bodies lacking strength after an entire week of being mercilessly dominated by their husband.
Zhì Yuǎn descended last. His charcoal-gray tunic was immaculate, and his steps were firm and calm.
He walked to the front of the harnesses. The two enormous copper-scaled beasts snorted respectfully and lowered their heavy heads, acknowledging their master, who had always fed them.
Zhì Yuǎn raised his hands and stroked the hard leather of their muzzles.
"You have served us well during these years of travel," he said, his voice low and calm. "You are now free."
He turned his palms upward. Two thick drops of golden Primordial Qi dripped from his fingers. The beasts opened their jaws and eagerly swallowed that pure energy.
Zhì Yuǎn turned his back on the animals and stopped in the center of the dirt road. He raised his right arm and dug his fingers into the empty air. With a firm motion, as if tearing an old curtain, he opened space. The fabric of reality parted with a dry crack, revealing a silver rift that led directly to the heart of the continent.
He stepped into the dark void without hesitation. Yù Qíng floated right behind him, gently guiding Mò Yán and Yù Méi into the spatial rift.
The old butler activated the storage ring Yù Qíng had given him, storing the empty armored carriage in the blink of an eye, and jumped into the portal after them.
The silver rift closed with a soft hiss, disappearing without leaving any trace.
Alone on the deserted road, the two draft beasts remained motionless for a few seconds.
Then the ground trembled.
Their muscles swelled violently. Their copper scales cracked and fell from their skin, replaced by a new layer of hard black scales that grew from the inside out at a terrifying speed. Their legs thickened, crushing the stones of the road. The Primordial Qi they had swallowed forced their bodies into a brutal transformation, far beyond what their mortal flesh could naturally withstand.
A guttural, deafening roar echoed through the forest, announcing the birth of two new and terrible creatures in this world.
------
Hundreds of thousands of kilometers away, the smell of old paper and fine dust filled the Pavilion of Forgotten Records. Far from the great training courtyards of the Celestial Mirror Hegemony, the circular library was completely empty.
Bái Wǎn sat on the wooden floor, surrounded by dozens of disorganized scrolls. The twenty-two-year-old girl untied the leather strap of a worn parchment and read the first line.
Her brown eyes sparkled. The ancient text did not teach forcing Qi against the meridians or breaking bottlenecks by brute force. The calligraphy dictated something simple: "Be the riverbed, not the dam. Let the water flow."
A wide smile illuminated Bái Wǎn's round face. Her plump cheeks gained a rosy hue of genuine excitement. She was small — much shorter than most of the sect's female cultivators. At just over one and a half meters tall, her delicate and frail body seemed even more fragile sitting among those ancient scrolls. Her pale skin, straight dark hair falling gracelessly over her shoulders, and simple white tunic reinforced her plain and unremarkable appearance. She herself knew she lacked the imposing or seductive beauty demanded by the fairies of the Hegemony.
Even so, that discovery was worth more to her than any treasure or banquet.
She quickly rolled up the parchment, hugged it to her chest, and left the pavilion. The midday wind hit her face. Eager to test the new method, Bái Wǎn headed toward the white stone bridge that connected the library to the rest of the sect.
At the end of the bridge, two figures blocked her path.
Jiāo and Měi Lín wore tight lilac and red silks. Their hair was perfectly arranged with jade hairpins, and the strong scent of aromatic oils filled the air.
Měi Lín opened a fan with a snap.
"Look who decided to leave the library," she said, her voice sweet but poisoned. "Elder Bai's granddaughter still has that plain face as always."
Jiāo let out a short, cruel laugh and turned her gaze toward Bái Wǎn.
"Don't be so harsh, Měi Lín. Our little sister needs to read a lot," Jiāo tilted her head, staring at the short girl up and down. "Last night I passed by the Eastern Pavilion. The young masters were drinking and talking about marriages. Do you know whose name made everyone burst into laughter? Yours. They said even your name is boring. Do you really think you'll achieve anything in life if you keep hugging those old scrolls instead of taking care of your appearance?"
Bái Wǎn's face burned. Her ears turned red with shame.
She did not raise her voice. She simply hunched her shoulders, trying to make herself even smaller. She hugged the parchment tighter to her chest and lowered her head.
"Forgive me for offending your eyes, Martial Sisters," she murmured, her voice low and polite.
She quickly bowed in respect and skirted around the two along the side of the bridge, quickening her pace along the dirt path.
The sharp laughter of Jiāo and Měi Lín followed her back, but Bái Wǎn did not look back. She swallowed the lump in her throat and headed toward the safety of her isolation.
Bái Wǎn's pavilion was hidden on the eastern slope of the mountain, surrounded by a dense grove of white bamboo that whispered in the wind. A small lake of crystal-clear waters reflected the afternoon sky like a perfect mirror. It was an isolated place, far from the main routes and the bustle of the sect — a refuge granted by her grandfather so that his granddaughter could cultivate in peace.
The girl sat on the wooden veranda, crossed her short legs, and opened the parchment. She closed her eyes and followed the instructions of the text. Instead of pulling Qi by force, she simply relaxed her body. The Perfect Qi Sea in her dantian did the rest. The energy flowed like water entering a serene lake, filling her meridians with absolute gentleness, without pain or resistance.
Slow footsteps echoed on the veranda's wooden planks.
Elder Bai pulled a wicker chair and sat beside his granddaughter. The cultivator's wrinkled face carried deep exhaustion. He poured himself a cup of steaming green tea, but did not offer any to his granddaughter.
"Your flow is exceptionally calm today, Wǎn'er," the old man said, his voice hoarse and heavy. "Your core absorbs the world without wasting a single drop."
Bái Wǎn opened her eyes and smiled faintly, adjusting the parchment on her lap. However, her grandfather did not return the smile. He held the cup with both hands, his gaze fixed on the lake.
"I hid your Perfect Qi Sea in the shadows of that library for twenty years," he continued, his tone growing somber. "I wanted you to live cleanly. But calm waters always attract thirsty beasts. I won't be able to protect you for much longer."
Bái Wǎn's smile vanished. Her chest tightened.
"The old monsters of the Fourth Pillar in this mountain have cracked souls," the elder revealed, looking at the lake. "They fear death more than anything. If they discover your talent, they will drag you into the shadows. They will use you as a Human Furnace to repair their own defects… and then discard what remains."
Panic rose in Bái Wǎn's throat. The small girl clutched the parchment tightly to her chest, her fingers trembling.
She opened her mouth to ask what they could do.
But the question never came out.
The steam rising from her grandfather's cup froze in the air.
The surface of the lake stopped rippling.
The leaves of the white bamboo became motionless.
The wind died completely.
A dry sound, like old fabric being torn, cut through the courtyard.
Space split open. A silver rift gaped in the air. A tall man dressed in a charcoal-gray tunic calmly stepped onto the gravel. Three women followed him in silence. None of them released oppressive aura or murderous intent. They seemed like nothing more than four ordinary cultivators.
However, the moment they appeared, Elder Bai's knees slammed hard against the wooden planks of the veranda. The old man fell forward, spitting out a large pool of dark blood. The invisible pressure leaking from those four crushed his body against the ground. He couldn't even lift his head.
Bái Wǎn stood completely paralyzed.
The short girl hugged the parchment to her chest, her brown eyes wide with terror. The man in the gray tunic turned his face in her direction.
His calm, dark eyes stared directly at her.
There was no disgust. No mockery. No pity.
That look pierced straight through her — flesh, soul, and secrets — as if nothing about her could be hidden.
For the first time in her life, Bái Wǎn did not feel the urge to lower her head or hunch her shoulders. She simply stood there, paralyzed, lost in that calm and profound stare.