CHAPTER 91: JADE BREAKS, THE HEAVEN WATCHES

Meanwhile,

The moment Zhao Fan pulled away, his Yang Rod still glistening with the Saintess’s saliva, and it was as if he felt a surge of dominance and desire.

Seeing this, the young boy roared.

"Saintess!!! You can’t... You dog..."

"You trash... You... Mark my words, I will eliminate your entire bloodline."

Yet, right before his eyes, Young Master Zhao’s fierce and predatory eyes, locked onto the Saintess’s flushed face. She looked up at him, her breath ragged, her lips swollen and wet. Her eyes, once serene and detached, now burned with a hunger that couldn’t be revealed to the world.

Seeing bow was ignored, he hated it... Yet, no matter how hard he tried to free himself, he couldn’t.

"Good! Good! Good!!! Mark my words... I shall burn the world."

"I WILL DESTROY EVERYTHING!!!"

The boy lost his mind unable to fathom what’s right for him and what’s not, alas, stupidity truly has no cure.

A monk sees once, shakes his head twice, and continues his journey.

* * *

Young Master Zhao reached down, his hand firm and possessive as he gripped her chin.

Her skin was soft, her pulse quick beneath his fingers. He could feel the energy pulsing through her, her Yin Qi swirling in chaotic harmony.

"Turn around," he commanded, his voice low and authoritative. She complied without hesitation, her movements fluid and graceful despite the trembling of her legs.

He watched as she positioned herself, her hands braced against the big yet cool stone wall, her back arched in a silent invitation.

Her robe, once pristine and modest, was now disheveled, revealing glimpses of her porcelain skin. He could see the delicate curve of her spine, the slight indentation of her waist, and the tantalizing swell of her hips. His Yang Rod throbbed, aching to claim what was rightfully his.

The Yin garden was moist looking for a suitable pollen, the flesh was pink and the outer lips were already loosened from the heat.

He stepped closer, his body pressing against hers. He could feel her heat, her desire, and it fueled his own.

Rather than being hesitant she seems to be looking forward to it and Young Master Zhao knows it. Women after a certain age will look for Yang even if they don’t wanna reveal it or deny it, the truth can never be suppressed.

His hands roamed her body, tracing the lines of her curves, feeling the energy that flowed beneath her skin.

"Essshhh..." Her body shook violently, legs trembling, and more and more nectar gushing out, forming a long river from her Yin cave to her thigh, and still moving down towards the lotus feet.

This is wrong... This is not the path of the Dao... Ahhh, yet... I feel so strange and submissive.

Her body refused to listen to virtue and righteousness.

When he pressed the tip of his Brother Yang Dragon against her untouched gate, her legs stiffened. She squeezed her eyes shut, not in fear but in shame.

The truth was felt in the resistance at her entrance, the trembling in her thighs, the way her fingers dug into the stone for stability.

Young Master Zhao rubbed his manhood against her folds before pushing it in making sure the head was well prepared.

Squikkkk!!!

Her heart pounded like a war drum as his tip slowly pushed forward, breaching her sacred threshold.

"Ahn—!" Her voice cracked like thin ice from the burning pain of having her yin tissue penetrated.

The pain was sharp and burning yet, what she felt the most was the stretching of her inner flesh.

A tearing heat inside her, followed by the bloom of something irreversible.

Her virgin Yin wrapped around him tightly, instinctively resisting the intrusion. She bit down on her lip so hard it bled, refusing to cry out further.

Zhao Fan exhaled, his fingers digging into her hips as he felt her flesh engulf him... It was tight, wet, divine.

Her Yin walls, untouched until now, clamped around his Dragon like a sacred seal resisting the flame of intrusion.

Her passage wasn’t merely tight, it was alive.

Silken flesh quivered around him with every throb of his Yang, gripping as though reluctant to release.

It was as if her body itself was trying to stop time, to hold him within forever.

"Haaah*"

She gasped sharply, a strangled moan breaking from her lips. "Hnnn—ahhh..."

She could feel his movement... She could feel his heartbeat... She could feel him inside her... His warmth, his shape, his desire, everything.

Her knees buckled slightly, but she held herself upright, bracing against the stone wall as his Dragon pushed deeper, sliding through her untouched canal inch by inch.

"Mmm... Ah, mmm..." It felt so strange, she felt as if her soul was being crushed by some divine weight. It felt both good and bad.

He could feel every heartbeat, every flutter of rejection and reluctant welcome pulsing from within her.

Behind them,

Yi Xin Xue, cloaked in moonlight, stood motionless... Her arms were crossed, but one trembling hand clutched at her own wrist.

Her breath grew shallow, she couldn’t help but wonder why her body was like this. The itch between her thighs is only getting bigger and bigger.

And I... I want that again. But him again and again... Ah, it’s his dual cultivation, the long-harnessed Yang rod.

LuQingyan, meanwhile, bit her lower lip until it turned bloodless unable to comprehend what she was witnessing.

Her wide eyes shimmered with fear, envy... and aching curiosity. She didn’t understand why her thighs pressed together so tightly, why her hand had slipped beneath her robes without command.

She was a pure maiden yet all she recalls is being submissive...

"Ahhh...." She looked at her fingers that were well soaked in her nectar.

"Mmm... My body is reacting strangely."

But when Zhao Fan groaned aloud, hips rolling in deeper, and the Saintess’s body lurched forward from the force, Lu Qingyan gasped as if she felt it too.

She has never done the act between male and female yet she was curious, it would be a lie to say she never dreamed of getting slammed.

Would I break like that...? Would I cry out... or would I beg? That’s so big... He might break me.

Suppose let’s say... He wants to do it with me now... Then should I accept? Should I reject?

Ahh, my hands have already been given, maybe I should accept otherwise I might fall behind other women.

Jia Mei sat still on a mossy stone, her robes gathered between her legs.

She trembled not from cold, but from what she saw — what she imagined.

Her lips parted, her breath fogging as her eyes remained locked on the curve of Zhao Fan’s back, the rhythm of his hips.

Let it be known that she also wished to get pumped like that by Young Master Zhao. She wished to worship every inch of his body, please him and his yang brother with her worthless body.

She has no shame. If he wishes then she would get on her knees right now. The opportunity strikes once and may never. Be wise and grab it.

She pressed her palm flat against her belly.

Would he ever... take me that way...?

...

Ling’er stood still her eyes flashing with violent lust. Her breathing was erratic not from arousal alone, but fury.

"Gee... Shouldn’t I be the first one? Who even is that woman, hmph, doesn’t Young Master know, take care of the woman at home first..."

Her fingernails dug into her palm until they broke skin.

Saintess... you cheap vixen... You dare to take what should be mine...?

"Ahhh... Ahhh, mmm..."

And yet, when the Saintess moaned again; a sound so raw, so shattering, Ling’er’s knees weakened.

* * *

Back at the stone, Zhao Fan bottomed out, his entire Dragon sheathed inside her sacred Yin hole.

She trembled beneath him, her forehead pressed against the stone wall, her hair clinging to damp skin.

Her eyes were unfocused, her mouth slightly open in silent surrender.

"You’re inside me..." she whispered, disbelief and surrender tangled in her voice.

Zhao leaned forward, lips brushing the nape of her neck.

"And I’m not leaving until your spirit calls my name..."

Squelch! Squelch! Squelch!!

Young Master slowly moved his hip producing those wet noises of flesh to flesh.

"Ahhh, ahhh, ah, ah, mmm..."

Her mouth opened, but no sound came out—only a shuddering moans of pleasure. Her hands slid against the stone, nails scraping moss as her arms gave out under the weight of her own trembling.

She can’t fathom why she enjoys this so much... She can feel every nerve in her body feel electric.

"Ah... ahh, ah, ah, ahhh, ah, ah, ah... aaaaah...~"

Her voice no longer resembled the Saintess of Frost. There was no pride, no restraint, only moans—high, shaking, desperate, like a cheap woman.

Her eyes rolled upward, lips parted, tongue lightly slipping past as drool traced the corner of her mouth. Her body no longer moved with control, only reaction, jerking, arching, clenching as Zhao Fan pounded her deeper with each thrust.

Slap! Slap! Slap!

Squelch... squelch... squelch

"You’re losing yourself," Zhao Fan whispered darkly. "How divine you look... broken. It is as if, you were born for this..."

"D-Don’t... say that..." she whimpered, though her hips pushed back helplessly, begging in motion what her words denied, her body betrayed her acting on its own seeking pleasure.

"Your body’s begging. Don’t lie to me." Young Master Zhao was quick to catch on.

"Ahhh... ahhh... Ahhh... mmm... I’m... I’m not..."

She sobbed mid-sentence. Her womb twitched around him, tight enough to squeeze his Dragon like it never wanted to let go. She wasn’t speaking clearly anymore, she was just a fragments, breathy pleas, senseless sweetness clinging to the last bit of pride as a woman, as a saintess.

"Too much... nghh... too full... I c-can’t think... ahh, ahhh, ahhh, haah* haah* Haah* Haah*"

"I’m not a Saintess... not... anymore..."

"ahhh, ahhh, ahhh... Ohhhhhhh heavens.... Ohhhhhhhh!!!"

Her words cracked with truth, mind foggy with none but lust.

"That’s right," Zhao Fan growled against her ear. "You are mine now. Be obedient and say: Pound me more, I am a cheap anytime use woman for you."

Pa! Pa! Pa!

He slammed into her again, hard enough to make the stone quake. She shrieked, her voice hitting a higher pitch, a song of shattering pride and sacred surrender.

"AHHN~! AHHHHH!!! HMMM!!! ... I... I’m gonna—!"

Her walls collapsed in on him, convulsing wildly. Her release came like a flood, nectar gushing down her thighs, spirit Qi exploding in golden waves as her back arched violently.

"C-Coming... nghh—Aahhhh!! I’m coming! I’m cominggggg~!! Haaaaa~"

Snap.

Something inside her broke. Her dignity. Her self-restraint. Her divine posture.

All gone down the drain...

Now, she was just a woman; twitching, gasping, drooling, eyes glassy as he continued to rut into her, prolonging her orgasm beyond reason.

"More... please... deeper... nghh—fill me again..."

"ahhhh, ahhh I am a cheap anytime use woman... Use me as you like. Use me for your pleasure... Ahhh!!!"

He pulled her up by her waist, bending her back against him, forcing her legs to spread wider, fully exposing her leaking Yin to the air. Her nipples stood stiff, her stomach trembled, and her head rolled back against his shoulder.

"Say it," he whispered. "Say you’re mine."

"I-I... I-I’m... I’m yours..."

She said it. She whimpered it. She surrendered it.

Zhao Fan grunted, his Yang building to its limit once more.

"Then take it like an obedient girl..."

Splash! Splash! Splash! Splash!

He slammed upward one final time, and burst inside like a volcanic eruption. Thick ropes of divine Yang surged into her womb, overflowing her sacred temple until it leaked from her entrance, dripping in milky streams onto the moss below.

"Aaahhhn~!~! Ghhhaaahh... oooooohhhhhhh!"

She went limp, mind blank, eyes rolled up with her at marks, body twitching. A dazed smile touched her lips as her consciousness floated somewhere between pleasure and enlightenment.

She was just a cheap woman and she had no shame in admitting it at the moment, but she might probably hate it once she comes to her senses.