Dual Cultivation: Gathering SSS-Rank Wives in the Cultivation World

Chapter 673: Chapter 673 - Pinpointing the Son of Heaven

Tianlong walked. His stride was measured, unhurried, the pace of a being who owned the ground he walked on. His gold-crimson eyes swept the courtyard — the disciples, the elders, the banners, the formation diagrams. His divine qi pressed against everything, the energy evaluating, cataloging, dismissing.

His eyes found the princess.

She stood at the end of the corridor. At the entrance to the inner hall. She was flanked by two Core Formation maidens — her attendants, their faces composed, their robes immaculate.

Jin Yuhan — the Jade Pearl of the Azure Cloud Sect.

She was — in the terms of the lower realms — breathtaking. Her layered silk robes — white and jade-green, embroidered with cloud-and-dragon patterns — fell to her ankles. A jade pendant hung from her waist. Her black hair — obsidian, silken, the strands catching the light like polished stone — fell to her waist, held back by a jade pin. Her face was oval, delicate — high cheekbones, a small nose, full lips the color of pink coral. Her eyes were large, dark, luminous. Her skin was porcelain — pale, smooth, without a single blemish.

Her body — concealed beneath the layered robes — was slender, refined. Her waist was narrow. Her shoulders were sloped. Her breasts — moderate, round, firm — were shaped by the robe’s tailoring, the mounds visible as gentle curves beneath the silk. Her hips — curved, not wide — swayed slightly as she stood, the robe shifting with her breathing.

Tianlong stopped.

His gold-crimson eyes locked onto her. His divine qi — the Horny God Physique’s senses — reached out, brushing against her body, reading her spiritual constitution, her cultivation base, her physical state.

’Azure Dragon Marrow spiritual constitution. Core Formation, late stage. Twenty-three years old. The Fate Value —’

A system window popped in his vision.

|| [ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ]||

|| HEROINE DETECTED.||

|| Target: Jin Yuhan||

|| Status: Story heroine of the lower world.||

|| Bloodline: Azure Dragon Marrow (Fairy Daisy variant)||

|| Fate Value: 8,470,000||

|| Maidenhood: Intact||

|| Emotional State: Suppressed distress. Primary attachment: "Lin Feng" (external).||

|| Note: Heroine bears the narrative weight of this world’s story. Claiming her maidenhood will yield significant Fate Value transfer.||

Tianlong’s mouth twitched.

’Again.’

’Another world. Another system. Another heroine.’

’And she’s already attached to some "Lin Feng."’

He looked at her. At her porcelain face, her dark eyes, her coral lips. At her layered robes, her jade pin, her obsidian hair. At her body — at the shape of her breasts beneath the silk, at the curve of her waist, at the hint of her hips.

’She’s beautiful. By the standards of this world — perhaps the most beautiful I’ve seen. The constitution is real. The Fate Value is real. And the maidenhood is intact.’

’But she’s not happy to see me.’

He could see it. In the way her dark eyes — large, luminous — held no warmth. In the way her full lips — coral pink — were pressed flat, the smile absent. In the way her slender body was rigid, the poise forced, the composure artificial.

She didn’t want to be here. She didn’t want to be offered. She didn’t want him.

Tianlong smiled. A small, knowing smile.

Jin Wuchen — kneeling beside the corridor — noticed the smile. Noticed the direction of the ancestor’s gaze. Noticed his daughter.

"Lord Ancestor," Jin Wuchen said, his deep voice carrying the formal weight of a sect leader introducing his heir. "Allow me to present my daughter. Jin Yuhan. The Jade Pearl of the Azure Cloud Sect."

Jin Yuhan stepped forward. Her silk slippers whispered on the jade. Her layered robes swished. She bowed — deeply, formally, the bow of a daughter meeting her father’s guest. Her obsidian hair fell forward, the silken strands brushing the jade floor.

"Yuhan greets the Lord Ancestor," she said. Her voice was refined. Delicate. The voice of a princess. "This one is honored by your presence."

Tianlong’s gold-crimson eyes — as she bowed — dropped to her cleavage. The layered robes parted slightly at the bow — the silk shifting, the neckline opening, the pale skin of her chest visible. Her breasts — moderate, round, the mounds pressing together as she leaned forward — created a narrow valley of cleavage. The skin was porcelain — white, smooth, the blue veins visible beneath the surface.

And the smell — the Horny God Physique’s senses, infinitely more refined than any mortal or cultivator’s — caught it. The scent of her pussy. Faint, clean, the scent of a woman who had never been touched. The scent of an intact maidenhead. The scent of virgin flesh.

"She’s a virgin," Tianlong said.

The words — spoken aloud, in the courtyard, in front of hundreds of disciples and elders — fell like a stone into still water.

The silence that followed was absolute.

Then — the gasps. The shocked whispers. The faces — red, white, horrified.

"He — he said —"

"In front of everyone —"

"The princess — he —"

"How does he — how could he know —"

"VULGAR —" an elder — not one of the four who had traveled — breathed. "The sheer vulgarity —"

Jin Wuchen’s face went crimson. His enormous frame trembled — with embarrassment, with fury, with the desperate suppression of both. His hands clenched at his sides.

But Jin Yuhan — the princess — straightened. Her porcelain face was composed. Her dark eyes met Tianlong’s gold-crimson ones. Her full lips — coral pink — parted.

"Indeed," she said. Her refined voice was steady. Cold. The voice of a woman who had been raised to be traded and had learned to bear it with dignity. "I have kept my chastity. For my husband."

The word "husband" was deliberate. A statement. A declaration. Not "for the ancestor." Not "for you." For my husband. Whoever that might be.

Her face was devoid of emotion. The porcelain mask of a princess.

Tianlong’s smile widened. His gold-crimson eyes — seeing through the mask, seeing the suppressed distress, seeing the attachment to "Lin Feng" that the system had flagged — held hers.

"You’re not happy seeing me," he said. A statement. Not a question.

Jin Yuhan’s composure cracked. Her dark eyes widened. Her coral lips trembled. The porcelain mask fractured — for a heartbeat, the raw, desperate, miserable truth showed through. She was a woman being sold. She was a woman in love with another man. She was a woman who had just been told — in front of everyone — that her maidenhood was detectable by scent.

She recovered. The mask rebuilt. The composure returned.

"Lord Ancestor is mistaken," she said. Her voice was even. "This one is honored."

But her hands — small, pale, the fingers trembling — gave her away.

Tianlong’s gold-crimson eyes moved. Past the princess. Past the elders. Past the disciples.

To the training platform.

Where Lin Feng stood.

His dark eyes were locked on Tianlong. His handsome face was white. His jaw was clenched so tight the muscles were visible through his skin. His Core Formation qi was circulating — rapidly, violently, the golden core in his dantian spinning at a rate that would have concerned any observing elder.

And his killing intent — raw, unfiltered, radiating from his body in waves that the nearby disciples could feel — was aimed directly at the ancestor.

Tianlong felt it. The killing intent brushed against his divine qi and dissolved — like a candle flame touching the surface of the sun. But he felt it. And he recognized it.

’There it is. The "Lin Feng." The external attachment. The man she loves.’

’And he wants to kill me.’