The air in the demon beast forest's core was thick with the scent of damp earth and something far more intoxicating—something sweet, cloying, like the perfume of a flower blooming in the dead of night. The ancient trees loomed overhead, their gnarled branches twisting like skeletal fingers, casting jagged shadows across the mossy ground. The usual hum of spiritual energy that thrummed through the forest was drowned out by another sound—ragged, desperate breathing, the wet slap of flesh against flesh, the low, guttural moans of a woman unraveling.
Su TianFeng stood at the heart of it all, her once-pristine robes scorched before now clinging to her body like a second skin, darkened with sweat and something far more sinister. The heart-bewitching lotus had done its work. Its crimson petals, still clutched in one trembling hand, had released its poison into her veins the moment she'd inhaled its scent—an alchemical trap meant for lesser cultivators, never for a nascent soul true lord. But pride had made her careless. Now, the poison coiled through her, twisting her thoughts into something feral, something hungry. Her fingers dug into her own thigh, nails biting into flesh as she fought to keep herself upright. A whimper escaped her lips, high and broken, before she swallowed it back with a snarl.
She could feel it—the heat pooling between her thighs, her pussy throbbing with a need so intense it bordered on pain. Her free hand slid down, fingers pressing against the damp fabric of her robes, rubbing in slow, deliberate circles over her clit. A shudder wracked her body, her back arching as pleasure lanced through her. No. No, this wasn't happening. She was Su TianFeng, a woman who had bent the heavens to her will, who had made sect masters kneel. She didn't whimper. She didn't beg.
But then—footsteps.
Her head snapped up, her dark eyes locking onto the figure stumbling into the clearing. Yang YinLong. A nobody. A 6th stage qi condensation cultivator, so far beneath her notice that she wouldn't even bothered to memorize his face . He froze mid-step, his breath catching as he took in the sight of her—her robes in disarray, her chest heaving, her fingers still working between her legs. The scent of her arousal hit him like a physical blow, thick and intoxicating, and his cock twitched in response, already hardening against the confines of his pants.
"S-Senior ?" His voice was a croak, uncertain, but his eyes—oh, his eyes were glued to the way her hips rolled, the way her fingers moved.
A slow, dangerous smirk curled her lips. The poison purred in her veins, whispering to her, Take him. Use him. And gods, she wanted to.
"Come closer," she commanded, her voice a husky rasp, the words dripping with something dark and promising. Her fingers didn't stop their slow, torturous circles, her thumb pressing down on her clit just hard enough to make her gasp. Yang YinLong swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing, but he didn't move. Not yet.
The air between them crackled, charged with something more than just spiritual energy. The heart-bewitching lotus's poison wasn't just in her—it was seeping into the very atmosphere, a mist of lust and desperation that coiled around Yang YinLong's ankles, slithering up his legs, wrapping around his cock like an invisible hand. He groaned, his knees nearly buckling as his dick throbbed, aching to be free.
Su TianFeng's smirk deepened. She could see the moment his resistance crumbled. His feet carried him forward, one stumbling step after another, until he was close enough that she could reach out and grab the front of his shirt. The fabric tore with a sharp rip, buttons scattering as she exposed his chest, her nails dragging down his skin just hard enough to leave red marks. He hissed, but didn't pull away.
"Good boy," she murmured, her breath hot against his ear. Then, without warning, she shoved her fingers—the ones still slick with her own arousal—against his lips. "Taste me."
Yang YinLong's eyes widened, but the poison had him in its grip. His tongue darted out, tentative at first, then bolder as her flavor hit him—sweet, musky, addictive. A groan tore from his throat as he sucked her fingers into his mouth, lapping at them like a man starved. Su TianFeng's eyelids fluttered, a shudder running through her as she watched him, his lips wrapped around her digits, his tongue swirling.
"That's it," she breathed, her free hand sliding down to palm the bulge in his pants. He was hard—throbbing, leaking, his cock straining against the fabric. She squeezed, her fingers tracing the outline of his length, and he jerked, a broken sound escaping him. "You like that, don't you? You like being my little toy."
He didn't answer. He couldn't. His mind was a haze of need, his body moving on instinct as she pushed him to his knees. The damp earth pressed against his skin, the coolness doing nothing to temper the fire burning through him. Su TianFeng loomed over him, her fingers still buried in his mouth, her other hand working at the ties of her robes.
"Undress me," she ordered, her voice leaving no room for argument.
Yang YinLong's hands trembled as he reached for the sash at her waist, his fingers fumbling with the knots. The fabric fell away with a whisper, revealing inch after inch of golden skin, the swell of her breasts, the tight buds of her nipples, already hard and begging for attention. His breath hitched as the last of her robes pooled at her feet, leaving her completely bare before him.
Fuck.
She was perfection—every curve, every line of her body sculpted by years of cultivation, her skin flawless save for the flush of arousal painting her chest and thighs. Her pussy was already glistening, her juices dripping down her inner thighs, the scent of her so thick he could taste it on the air.
Su TianFeng didn't give him time to admire. Her hand left his mouth, sliding down to her clit, her fingers moving in frantic circles as she chased the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter inside her. "Look at me," she demanded, her voice a whip-crack. "Look at how wet I am for you."
Yang YinLong obeyed, his gaze locked on the way her fingers worked, the way her hips rolled, the way her breath came in sharp, needy gasps. His cock ached, pre-cum dripping from the tip, soaking through his pants.
"Fuck me," she snarled, her control slipping. She grabbed his shoulders, shoving him back until he was sprawled on the mossy ground, his cock tenting his pants obscenely. Before he could react, she straddled him, her knees pressing into the earth on either side of his hips, her dripping pussy hovering just above the bulge in his pants.
Yang YinLong's hands flew to her waist, his fingers digging into her skin as she reached down, freeing his cock with a few rough tugs. It sprang free, thick and flushed, the tip already slick with pre-cum. Su TianFeng didn't hesitate. She guided him to her entrance, her breath hitching as the head of his cock pressed against her soaked folds.
Then—she sank.
Yang YinLong's vision whited out for a second, a groan tearing from his throat as her tight, scorching heat swallowed him inch by inch. She was dripping, her walls clenching around him like a fist, milking him even as she took him to the hilt. Her head fell back, a broken cry spilling from her lips as she bottomed out, her ass pressing against his thighs.
"F*ck—fu*k—" She didn't wait. She rode him, her hips snapping up and down, her nails raking down his chest as she chased the pleasure that was just out of reach. The poison burned through her, twisting every sensation, making it too much and not enough all at once. Her clit throbbed, her pussy clamping down around his cock as she ground against him, her juices coating his shaft, dripping down to his balls.
Yang YinLong's hands gripped her ass, his fingers spreading her cheeks as she fucked herself on him, her tits bouncing with every desperate thrust. He could feel her—every inch of her, the way her inner walls fluttered, the way her breath hitched when he thrust up to meet her.
"Harder," she gasped, her voice raw. "Give me more."
He obeyed, his hips snapping up to meet her, his cock pistoning into her with bruising force. The wet sounds of their bodies slapping together filled the clearing, obscene and perfect. Su TianFeng's orgasm was building, a storm just over the horizon, but the poison twisted it, made it hurt, made it never enough.
"Make it stop," she pleaded, her voice breaking, her nails digging crescents into his shoulders. Her pussy clenched around him, her walls fluttering, her juices gushing as she teetered on the edge. But the poison wouldn't let her fall. It kept her there, suspended in agony, her body writhing, her hips grinding down on him even as tears pricked at her eyes.
Yang YinLong's own release was close, his balls drawing up, his cock swelling inside her. He could feel it—the way her body was using him, the way her pleasure was feeding on his. Fear spiked through the haze of lust. What if this broke him? What if he couldn't—?
Su TianFeng's back arched, a scream tearing from her throat as her orgasm finally crashed over her, her pussy clamping down on his cock like a vise. The poison roared in her veins, her vision whiting out as pleasure and pain blurred into one endless, suffocating wave.
And beneath her, Yang YinLong came undone, his cock pulsing as he spilled deep inside her, his seed flooding her trembling body as the forest around them held its breath, waiting to see who—or what—would emerge from the wreckage, as finally everything went dark.
----
A soft shimmer of light filtered through the broken roof of the cavern. The storm outside had passed; only drifting motes of spiritual flame remained, twisting lazily in the air like fading fireflies.
Yang Yin Long stirred. His body ached as though every vein had been reforged, yet a boundless calm pulsed from within him. When he guided his breath, his dantian answered with a deep, steady roar.
Nine rotations.
Nine distinct pulses of qi.
He sat upright slowly, stunned.
"The ninth layer… already?"
For years the final barrier of Qi Condensation had defied him. Now, without elixirs or guidance, the wall had dissolved overnight. His inner sea was clear and bright, his meridians ringing like tempered metal.
He steadied his breathing, recalling flashes of what had happened—the chaos of the lotus flame, the desperate merging of yin and yang, the moment balance had replaced madness.
Beside him, faint light rippled. Female True Lord rested where the lotus circle had been, her aura no longer violent but cool and rhythmic, each breath exhaling gentle violet sparks.
He felt the heat climb to his face and turned away at once, composing his mind. Even unconscious, her presence was immense; the surrounding air bowed to her will.
Moments later, her spiritual pressure shifted. The residual flame around her fingers flared once, then dimmed. She opened her eyes—clear, deep, entirely lucid.
Their gazes met.
For an instant, Yang Yin Long thought the cave itself had frozen.
"You woke first," she said quietly, voice still rough from exhaustion. "That's… unusual."
YinLong stayed silent
A faint smile curved her lips. "It seems your balanced qi truly lived up to its name." She looked him over, sensing the surge within him. "And you… have reached the ninth layer. Fortune favors the patient."
Yang Yin Long said nothing, unsure what courtesy could bridge the gulf between a mortal-born cultivator and a Nascent Soul True Lord.
Su Tian Feng rose to her feet, gathering her scattered energy until her bearing once more matched the title she carried. The faint flush of embarrassment vanished behind calm authority.
"Our fates crossed by accident," she said. "Yet cause and effect bind even accidents. When you reach Foundation Establishment, use this."
She lifted her hand. A tiny jade rimg floated toward him," accept this. A storage ring, bound to my name but open to your mark. Within are medicines, stones, and a few minor treasures. And a contact token—should you ever reach Foundation Establishment, crush it. I will sense it."
"Crush it, and I will know. I will grant you one audience. But listen carefully—if you call upon me before then, the thread between us ends. No second chance."
Her tone was gentle but absolute.
He bowed deeply. "I understand, Senior."
She studied him for a long heartbeat. The faint edge of a smile returned.
"And if you truly step beyond Foundation Establishment—if you reach Core Formation—seek me again. I will give you an opportunity worth the risk you took tonight."
He could only nod, words failing him.
A swirl of violet mist rose around her as she summoned a clean robe from her ring. Her aura steadied into the distant majesty of a True Lord once more.
With that, she stepped toward the mouth of the cavern. The wind rushed in, scattering the lingering glow of the lotus.
In another breath, she was gone—only a trace of floral warmth remained where she had stood.
Silence returned, thick but not heavy. Yang Yin Long sat cross-legged and sank into meditation.
Inside, his qi was vast—refined by fire, tempered by balance. The merging of yin and yang had left a faint mark between his brows: a thread of alternating gold and violet light that pulsed with every heartbeat.
He guided the flow once, twice, feeling his foundation expand. His mind was clear, his purpose renewed.
"Foundation Establishment…" he murmured. "And then the Core."
Outside, the valley sighed. Somewhere deep below, the hidden pulse he had sensed before—slow, ancient, waiting—stirred again.
He gathered his few belongings, the jade ring warm against his palm, and stepped into the pale light of dawn.
A new chapter of his path had begun.
End of Chapter 5