The doors to Su Qingxue's cave mansion sealed with a soft hum of formations, locking out the world.
Inside, the main chamber was bathed in gentle moonlight from the crystal skylight. Ice-lotus lanterns glowed softly along the walls, casting a dreamlike hue over the wide spirit bed draped in phoenix silk.
Xiao Yang stood in the center, heart pounding harder than it ever had in battle.
To his left: Su Qingxue—silver hair unbound, wearing only a translucent ice-blue night robe that clung to her mature, voluptuous curves like mist. Her phoenix eyes held centuries of longing, tempered now with nervous resolve.
To his right: Ling Xue'er—black hair loose in soft waves, dressed in a simple white silk slip that revealed slender shoulders and the gentle swell of small breasts. Her luminous eyes flickered between fear, excitement, and deep affection.
Neither woman looked at the other yet.
Both looked only at him.
Su Qingxue spoke first, voice low and steady.
"We talked for hours last night. We cried. We confessed everything. And we decided… if we are to share you, it begins tonight. No more hiding. No more guilt alone."
Ling Xue'er nodded, stepping closer to him.
"I'm scared," she admitted softly. "But I want this. I want to know you both… completely."
Xiao Yang exhaled, reaching out to take one hand from each.
His yang qi flowed gently into their palms—warm golden light meeting cool ice yin and pure moon yin.
Both women shivered, eyes fluttering.
The resonance was immediate, powerful.
Three qi streams intertwined, forming a perfect trinity.
"Then let's take this slowly," he said. "Nothing you don't want."
Su Qingxue's fingers tightened around his.
"We want everything," she whispered. "We just need you to lead us."
He drew them toward the bed.
They sat in a triangle—knees touching, hands linked.
First, kisses.
He turned to Su Qingxue, cupping her face and kissing her deeply—familiar, passionate, centuries of pent-up love pouring out.
Ling Xue'er watched, cheeks flaming, but did not look away.
When he turned to her, she met him eagerly—young, sweet, hesitant at first, then melting into the kiss with a soft whimper.
Then, boldly, Su Qingxue leaned across and brushed her lips against Ling Xue'er's cheek.
The young saintess gasped, turning to meet the older woman's gaze.
Their first kiss was tentative—soft lips brushing, a spark of yin resonance jumping between them.
Then deeper.
Xiao Yang watched, blood roaring, as the two women he loved kissed each other for the first time—silver and black hair mingling, hands rising to cup faces.
When they parted, both were breathing hard, eyes glazed.
"It feels… right," Ling Xue'er whispered.
Su Qingxue smiled through tears.
"It does."
Robes fell away like shed inhibitions.
Su Qingxue's night robe slipped from her shoulders, revealing full, heavy breasts with pale rose nipples, wide hips, and the soft curve of her belly—mature perfection.
Ling Xue'er's slip followed, exposing slender youth—small, pert breasts, tiny waist, long legs, and smooth, untouched skin still flushed from her recent loss of virginity.
They turned to him as one.
His robes vanished under four eager hands.
Soon all three were bare, skin glowing in the lantern light.
They moved to the center of the bed.
Xiao Yang lay back, pulling both women against him—Su Qingxue on his left, Ling Xue'er on his right.
Hands explored.
Su Qingxue guided Ling Xue'er's small hand to his hardness, showing her how to stroke.
Ling Xue'er, in turn, shyly cupped one of Su Qingxue's full breasts, marveling at the weight and softness.
He lavished kisses on both—suckling Su Qingxue's familiar peaks until she moaned his name, then moving to Ling Xue'er's sensitive nipples until she arched and cried out.
The air filled with soft gasps, whispers, and the wet sounds of exploration.
Eventually, he positioned himself between Su Qingxue's thighs first—honoring the woman who came first in his heart.
She welcomed him with open legs and tear-filled eyes.
As he slid into her familiar heat, she pulled Ling Xue'er close, kissing her deeply to share the pleasure.
Ling Xue'er straddled Su Qingxue's waist, facing Xiao Yang, watching wide-eyed as he thrust slow and deep.
The sight—his phoenix lost in ecstasy, the young saintess flushed and trembling above her—was almost too much.
Su Qingxue reached up, guiding Ling Xue'er to lean forward until her small breasts brushed Xiao Yang's chest.
He captured one nipple in his mouth while continuing to move inside Su Qingxue.
The older woman came first—hard, crying out into Ling Xue'er's kiss, yin essence flooding in icy waves.
The surge pushed Xiao Yang deeper into control.
He withdrew gently, turning to Ling Xue'er.
She lay back willingly, legs parting.
Su Qingxue moved to her side, stroking her hair, kissing her forehead.
"You're safe," she whispered. "Let him love you."
He entered her slowly—her tightness still new, gripping him like silk.
Ling Xue'er whimpered, clinging to Su Qingxue as he began to move.
The older woman guided the girl's hand between her own thighs, teaching her how to touch herself while being taken.
Soon Ling Xue'er was moaning uncontrollably, hips rising to meet each thrust.
When her climax hit—pure yin essence exploding in moonlit waves—Su Qingxue kissed her through it, swallowing her cries.
Xiao Yang held back, pulling out before release.
He wasn't finished.
The women, sensing his intent, moved together.
Su Qingxue lay back, pulling Ling Xue'er atop her in a gentle embrace—breasts pressing, legs entwined.
He knelt between both pairs of thighs, alternating—thrusting deep into Su Qingxue for several strokes, then withdrawing to bury himself in Ling Xue'er.
The contrast was exquisite: mature heat and youthful tightness, ice and moonlight gripping him in turns.
Both women clung to each other, kissing desperately, hands roaming over sweat-slicked skin.
Their moans harmonized—deep and husky from Su Qingxue, high and sweet from Ling Xue'er.
The triple resonance built to a crescendo.
First Ling Xue'er came again—body shaking, yin essence surging.
Then Su Qingxue—climaxing with a broken cry of his name.
The combined wave crashed over him.
He thrust deep into Su Qingxue one final time, releasing everything—thick yang essence flooding her womb in powerful pulses.
Some spilled out as he withdrew, painting Ling Xue'er's entrance.
The spiritual light that erupted was blinding—golden yang braiding with ice-blue and silver-moon yin, forming a perfect trinity mandala above the bed.
Cultivation explosions rippled through all three.
Xiao Yang broke into middle Nascent Soul.
Su Qingxue advanced to middle Nascent Soul.
Ling Xue'er leaped to middle Nascent Soul.
When the light faded, they collapsed in a tangled heap—limbs entwined, bodies glistening, breaths ragged.
Su Qingxue and Ling Xue'er faced each other over his chest, fingers interlacing.
"We're bound now," Su Qingxue whispered. "All three."
Ling Xue'er smiled through happy tears.
"I've never felt so complete."
Xiao Yang pulled them closer.
"My phoenix. My moon. I love you both."
They drifted into exhausted sleep—safe, sated, united.
But outside the sealed cave mansion, dawn brought danger.
Zhao Tian stood at the foot of Jade Phoenix Peak, staring up at the faint residual qi fluctuations only a Core Formation cultivator could sense.
Three auras—intertwined in a way that could mean only one thing.
His fiancée's pure yin.
Madam Su's ice phoenix yin.
And a potent yang he didn't recognize.
His face twisted in rage.
"Traitors," he hissed.
He turned, robes flaring, and strode toward the Grand Elder's secluded meditation chamber.
His master—Zhao Wuji—needed to know.
The storm had arrived.
And it would tear the sect apart.
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