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

Chapter 691: Chapter 691- A Mortal’s Body ready to be stuffed

’If I ascend to the upper realm — if I use the Realm Traveler bloodline — I will need to navigate that world. The Tianlong House — the narrative I created — will need to be maintained. The young master persona will need to be — supported.’

’But that’s for later. First — this world. First — the signal. First — the princess.’

They walked in silence. The Azure Cloud Sect compound was in chaos — disciples running, elders shouting, the purple-gold signal still blazing overhead. No one approached them. The divine qi radiating from Tianlong’s body — now amplified by the Domain Rewriting, carrying the narrative weight of a young master — pressed against everything. The disciples parted. The elders bowed.

Jin Yuhan was not with them.

She had — when Tianlong turned to Liu Mei, when the narration began — slipped away. Her slender body — naked, ash-covered, blood-streaked, the torn robes bunched at her waist — had moved through the ruined dungeon corridors. Up the stairs. Through the passages. To her chamber.

The jade door opened. She entered. The silk hangings. The jade-inlaid desk. The carved bed frame. The jasmine-scented air. The gauze curtains. The spirit-plum blossoms outside the window.

The same room where Tianlong had carried her. Where he had placed her on the bed. Where he had torn her robes. Where he had sucked her breast. Where the foreplay had begun before the dungeon, before the confession, before the ashes.

She fell. Onto the bed. Face first. Her slender body — naked, trembling, the ash and blood and semen still on her skin — hit the silk sheets. Her obsidian hair — tangled, ash-covered — spread across the pillow. Her face — wet, stained — buried in the silk.

She cried.

Not the composed, aristocratic grief of a princess. Not the raw, body-wracking sobs of the dungeon. Something else. Something deeper. The crying of a woman who had been — broken. Not by the sex. Not by the violence. Not by the god’s cock or the divine qi or the Nascent Soul breakthrough.

By the truth.

’I loved a ghost. For twelve years. I loved a thing that killed my friend. I — I gave my heart to a parasite. I was going to give my body to — to a thing that saw me as a — as a cauldron. As a battery.’

’And the real Lin Feng — the real Lin Feng has been dead for twelve years. And I never knew. I never — I never got to say —’

’I couldn’t even mourn him properly. Because the thing wearing his face was — was right there. In the cell. Screaming about how I was his. His cauldron. His resource.’

’And then he died. And he turned to ash. And the ashes are on my skin.’

’And I — I was being fucked. By a god. While the ashes of my friend fell on my body. And I —’

’I asked the god to avenge him.’

’What kind of woman am I?’

’I couldn’t save him. I couldn’t — I couldn’t even —’

’Everyone I loved is gone. Everyone I trusted is — is a lie. And now I’m — I belong to — to a being I don’t know. A being who — who broke me. Who took my virginity. Who made me — who made me suck — who —’

’He said to forget Lin Feng. He said he is my man.’

’Is he? Is that — is that what I am now? His? His woman? His — his cauldron?’

’No. No. He said — he said he’s not like Shen Wuji. He said — he showed me the truth. He — he didn’t lie. He could have. He could have let me keep loving the mask. But he didn’t. He showed me.’

’Why?’

’Why did he show me?’

Her dark eyes — wet, red — stared at the silk sheets. At the blood. At the semen. At the ashes.

’I hurt everyone. Father. Lin Feng. The sect. I’m a — I’m a disappointment. A failure. A jade pearl with a cracked center.’

She cried. The tears soaked the silk. The room — the jasmine-scented, spirit-plum-light room — held her. And the night came.

Night fell over the Azure Cloud Sect.

The purple-gold signal had faded — the energy dissipating, the upper realm distress call losing power over time. But the sect remained in turmoil. Disciples patrolled the perimeter. Elders held emergency councils. Jin Wuchen — the sect leader — sat in his study, his enormous frame hunched, his dark eyes on a map, his peak Golden Core qi cycling as he prepared for threats that might come from above.

Tianlong entered his bed chamber.

The room was — appointed. A jade throne — large, carved, the seat wide enough for his frame — sat at the center. Silk hangings. Spirit-candles, the flames golden and steady. A meditation platform. A bed — large, silk-sheeted, the frame carved with cloud patterns.

He sat on the throne. His formal immortal’s attire dissolved — the dark silk, the crimson rope, the jade band — fading into golden qi particles. His naked body — golden, muscular, the broad chest and defined abdominals gleaming — settled into the jade. His cock — twelve inches, soft — rested against his thigh.

Liu Mei entered. Her physical body — voluptuous, the enormous tits heavy beneath the purple fabric, the thick hips swaying — moved with the practiced grace of a cultivator. Her amethyst eyes — wet, still carrying the tears from her narration — found his face.

"Senior," she said. Her husky voice was steady. Respectful. "You wanted to —"

"Continue," Tianlong said. His gold-crimson eyes found hers. "Tell me more."

She talked. About the Realm of Celestial Tides. About the political structure — the five great families, the twelve peaks, the Celestial Court that governed the realm. About the cultivation methods — the soul arts, the alchemical traditions, the formation arrays. About the dangers — the beast tides, the demonic invasions, the faction wars.

He listened. His gold-crimson eyes — calm, absorbing — watched her as she spoke. Watched her physical form — the body he had given her, the body that had been astral for three thousand years — move, gesture, breathe. Watched her enormous tits — barely contained by the purple fabric — shift with each motion. Watched her thick hips — wide, curved — sway. Watched her amethyst hair — deep, rich — fall down her back.

He snapped his fingers.

The effect was — immediate. Liu Mei’s physical form, already solid, intensified. The translucence — the last remnant of her astral state — vanished. Her skin — pale, smooth — became fully opaque. Her hair — amethyst — gained luster. Her eyes — amethyst — gained depth. Her body — the enormous tits, the thick hips, the narrow waist — became fully, completely physical.

She looked down at herself. Her hands — pale, the fingers slender — touched her stomach. Solid. Warm. Her thighs — thick, the flesh soft — were real. Her tits — enormous, heavy — were real. The weight — the actual, physical weight of flesh and muscle and fat — settled on her chest.

"I — I have become a — a mortal human?" Her amethyst eyes — wide, shocked — found his face. Her hands — touching her body, her arms, her stomach, her thighs — trembled. "My powers — my cultivation — it’s —"

Gone. Her Great Vehicle Realm cultivation base — the power she had once wielded, the spiritual energy that had made her one of the strongest cultivators in the Realm of Celestial Tides — was gone. The astral form had carried a fraction of it. The physical form — the body that Tianlong had materialized — carried none.

She was — mortal. A physical body. No cultivation. No spiritual energy. No power.

Her beautiful face — sharp-featured, mature — contorted. Not with grief. With — gratitude. The overwhelming, crushing gratitude of a being who had been a disembodied spirit for three thousand years and was now — physical. Alive. Real.

"Thank you," she whispered. Her husky voice — trembling, the tears flowing fresh — was barely audible. "Thank you, Senior. Thank you. I — I have nothing. No power. No cultivation. But I have — I have a body. I have — life. I —"