Shen Xiu emerged minutes later, freshened and clean. Water droplets slid down her skin, clinging to the curves of her breasts, her flat stomach, her thighs.
She looked like a nymph emerging from a spring, clean and radiant, her red hair damp and dark.
The sight made Shen Fei's cock, which had begun to soften, harden again with immediate, punishing urgency.
He was insatiable, a beast fueled by supreme physique and constant cultivation.
He grabbed her before she could dress, his hands clamping on her shoulders.
"One more," he said, his voice thick.
"Master, I have to—"
He didn't listen. He turned her, pushed her back against the wall near the door.
His mouth found hers, a brutal, claiming kiss. Then he guided her head down, his cock already at her lips.
"Open, my slutty aunty."
She obeyed, too accustomed to his whims.
He thrust his cock into her mouth, not gently, taking her throat again in a series of deep, rapid penetrations.
It was a quick, efficient violation—a reclaiming, a final stamp of ownership before she left.
Gawk. Gawk.
Slurrppp.. Gawk.
He came again, a smaller but potent release, down her throat.
She swallowed, coughing slightly as he withdrew.
Gulp. Gulp. coughh..
"Now go," he said, releasing her.
Shen Xiu gasped, her face flushed, her throat sore.
She grabbed her robes, which she'd discarded earlier, and dressed with swift, efficient movements.
She didn't bother with elaborate styling; her hair remained damp, wild.
She slipped out of his dormitory, employing her full Black Gold-ranked cultivation.
To any early riser outside, she was a blur of black and red, a streak of movement too fast to comprehend.
A few students milling about felt a rush of air, saw a shadow pass, and blinked, wondering if they'd imagined it.
She arrived at her lecture hall just as the last of the students were filtering in.
The room was large, tiered, with wooden benches and a central podium. The air smelled of chalk dust and youthful ambition.
She entered, her stride confident, her presence imposing despite her rushed state.
The students, a mix of noble heirs, talented commoners, and Institute disciples, rose in a rustle of movement.
"Teacher Shen Xiu."
Their greeting was unified, respectful. She was a legend—a Black Gold Demon Spiritualist, a fierce instructor, a beauty with a notorious, untouchable aura.
She swept her gaze across the room, a charming yet arrogant look that silenced the few who were still murmuring. Her eyes, sharp and assessing, scanned the faces.
Then they paused.
Huyan Lanrou sat in the middle row, her pink hair styled immaculately, her face glowing with a radiant, impossible vitality.
She looked like a flower watered to bursting. Her skin had a new luster, her eyes held a deep, satisfied gleam. She sat with a posture that was both relaxed and proud, a queen on her throne.
Shen Xiu's gaze lingered for a fraction too long.
'How could she not know that look?'
'It was the same look she'd worn after her first nights with Shen Fei, when all her holes had been filled to brimming, her body saturated with his essence and power.'
'The glow of complete irrigation, of satisfied ownership.'
A corrosive jealousy, hot and acidic, boiled in Shen Xiu's gut.
'Bitch.'
'Seducing my nephew and keeping him all night. I could only get my pussy and ass filled once, and my throat filled twice due to the shortage of time.'
'Wasn't she all haughty and arrogant days ago, thinking Shen Fei was beneath her notice?'
'He was some pathetic, disgusting worm. Now, after getting pounded by Shen Fei for the whole night and getting all her holes filled, she looks quite happy.'
'Slut. Bitch.'
The thoughts were venomous, a stream of silent curses.
She saw Huyan Lanrou's eyes meet hers.
The pink-haired girl didn't look away. Instead, she offered a small, subtle smile—a proud, provocative curve of her lips.
The message was clear: Now your Master is mine as well.
Shen Xiu's jaw tightened. She turned away, focusing on the class, burying the jealousy under her professional demeanor.
She forgot, in that moment, that she had been exactly like Lanrou before.
She had loathed Shen Fei, felt disgusted by his mere presence, until he broke her, conquered her body and soul.
His Absolute Yin-Yang Physique had made her utterly loyal without her knowledge. Now she was the jealous veteran, guarding territory against a fresh recruit.
"Today," she began, her voice crisp, cutting through the tension she'd created, "we will review advanced soul force cycling techniques for multi-elemental demon spiritualists. The principles of harmonic resonance…"
She launched into the lecture, her knowledge deep, her explanations sharp. But throughout, her attention kept circling back to Huyan Lanrou like a shark.
After covering the foundational theory, she decided to administer a practical test of comprehension. Her eyes scanned the room, then landed on Lanrou with deliberate intent.
"Huyan Lanrou."
Lanrou looked up, her expression politely attentive, but her eyes held a glint of challenge.
"Explain," Shen Xiu said, her tone cool, "the precise sequencing of soul force channels when attempting to synchronize a fire-element demon spirit with a water-element soul form. Detail the risk of elemental backlash and the method to mitigate it using the Third Harmonic Principle."
The question was difficult, bordering on obscure. It was material usually covered in advanced seminars, not in this general lecture.
A few students blinked, confused.
Others looked at Lanrou with pity.
Lanrou's smile faded.
She stood, clearing her throat as she tried answering.
She felt the eyes of the class on her, some sympathetic, some amused.
Shen Xiu nodded, a thin, satisfied smile on her lips. "Sit down. Study more instead of wasting your time on makeups and clothes."
She finished, sitting back down with a flush of annoyance on her cheeks.
Lanrou humphed silently, her mind boiling.
'Bitchy teacher. Showing off. Just because you got fucked by him first doesn't make you his forever. I got him all night. You got a rushed morning.'
The class continued, Shen Xiu's occasional barbs aimed at Lanrou were subtle but unmistakable.
The rivalry, unspoken but fierce, simmered in the lecture hall air.
—-
Meanwhile, Shen Fei had bathed, washing away the evidence of his night with Lanrou and the morning with Shen Xiu.
He dressed in fresh, simple robes and left his dormitory.
He didn't head toward any lecture hall. Instead, his path led to the library, the towering spire of knowledge that had become his second home.
The morning light streamed through the high windows, painting the endless rows of bookshelves in gold.
The silence here was profound, a blanket of accumulated wisdom. He moved to a section he hadn't yet exhausted—treatises on dimensional theory and spatial manipulation.
He selected a heavy volume bound in dark leather:
'Fundamentals of Void Folding: Applications in Teleportation Inscriptions.'
He sat at a familiar oak desk, opened the book, and began to read.
His eyes moved across the text at a pace that would baffle any scholar.
Sentences, paragraphs, and entire pages were consumed in seconds. His mind, fueled by his golden-ranked soul force and his unique talent, absorbed the information not just as memory but as integrated comprehension.
The talent—God Rewards Hard Work—was a living thing within him.
The more he read, the faster his reading speed increased.
The more he comprehended, the deeper his understanding grew, allowing him to absorb subsequent knowledge even faster.
It was a positive feedback loop of intellect. Reading was a cultivation for his mind.
He finished the first treatise in minutes.
He shelved it, selected another: 'Geometries of Spiritual Space: Beyond Three Dimensions.'
He devoured it.
Then another: 'Anomalies in Temporal Flow Within Sealed Realms.'
His comprehension expanded, cross-referencing information from the previous books, creating a holistic understanding of topics that would take master scholars decades to grasp.
He saw connections between void folding and temporal anomalies, between spatial manipulation and the foundational principles of some of his more advanced pill recipes.
Hours passed. The sun climbed.
He was unaware of the world outside the library's silent walls.
Unaware that his name was becoming a thunderclap across Glory City.
The Alchemist Association's main hall, after a day and night of frantic verification, had finally reached a consensus.
The revolutionary pill recipes submitted by Shen Fei—from the brutal Body-Tempering Elixir that forged strength through pain, to the elegant Soul-Soothe Pill that harmonized through reversed polarity—were not just valid.
They were groundbreaking.
Director Yang Xin, on behalf of Shen Fei, had overseen the final batch of test refinements.
The results were consistent and extraordinary.
The Association President, Gu Yan, after consulting with the oldest, most conservative masters, made the decision.
At noon, with the sun high over Glory City, the Alchemist Association issued a public proclamation.
Messengers raced through streets, posted bulletins on city gates, and sent formal notices to every aristocrat, noble, and major family.
The proclamation announced the immediate release of a new series of cultivation aids: the 'Shen Series' pills.
It detailed their effects—accelerated body tempering, enhanced soul force purification, reduced impurity accumulation, and synergistic multi-element balancing.
And it named the creator: Shen Fei, of the Shen family, disciple of the Holy Orchid Institute.
The news exploded through the city like a wildfire in dry grass.
In the commoner districts, where aspiring demon spiritualists and fighters struggled with limited resources, the announcement was met with disbelieving joy, then fervent hope.
Parents clutched the bulletins, pointing to the name Shen Fei, telling their children,
"See? This is what genius looks like. This is our city's hope."
In tea houses and taverns, discussions roared.
"The Shen Series. They say the Body-Tempering Elixir can push a Silver Fighter to Gold in months, not years."
"And without any risk of meridian burnout."
"The Soul-Soothe Pill—my cousin works at the Association. He says it can cleanse decades of stagnation within the soul sea in a single dose."
"Shen Fei… I remember hearing about him. Some said he was a… a womanizer?"
"Shut your mouth. That's just noble gossip. Look at what he's done. He's saving lives. Making us stronger."
"Anyone who speaks ill of him now is a traitor to Glory City."
The sentiment was overwhelming.
The tangible benefit of the pills—the promise of quicker, safer advancement for the city's defenders—drowned out any residual whispers about his personal life.
The previous reputation of the "Black Goat" was washed away in a tide of pragmatic gratitude.
He became a legend in the making, a genius whose contributions outweighed any past scandal.
In the noble estates, the reaction was more measured but equally profound.
The Huyan family elders, already aware of Lanrou's sudden, inexplicable leap to Gold Rank, read the bulletin with dawning understanding.
Their heiress's advancement wasn't just talent; it was aided by the very pills her… associate… had created.
The connection was not spoken aloud, but it calcified in their strategic calculations.
The Shen family compound buzzed with a strange mix of pride and unease.
Shen Fei's father was still in seclusion, and Elder Shen Ming received formal congratulations from other major families.
Shen Fei, once a source of discreet embarrassment, was now the city's brightest star. The power dynamic within the family shifted invisibly.
On the streets leading to the Alchemist Association, a crowd gathered—not a protest, but a hopeful, pressing throng.
Demon spiritualists in travel-worn robes, fighters with scarred arms, hopeful apprentices, all waited for the first batches of the new pills to be sold.
The association, which had often been a quiet, scholarly enclave, now teemed with urgent life.
The doors were barely able to contain the flow of inquiries.
Inside, Director Yang Xin watched from a high window. Her face, usually cool and professional, held a small, genuine smile.
The chaos was a testament to her Master's work.
She felt a proprietary pride, a sense of shared achievement. And she felt a familiar, warm ache in her lower belly.
She has decided her reward for managing this chaos would be personal.
Later, when she went to the Holy Orchid Institute to deliver Shen Fei's official Alchemist Master robes and batch—the physical symbols of his new status—she would provide another kind of tribute.
She would offer all her holes in various positions, a private celebration of his public triumph.
Back in the library, Shen Fei closed another book, a dense tome on 'Historical Precedents for City-Scale Protective Inscriptions.'
He had absorbed its contents in under an hour. He stood, stretching, his mind buzzing with integrated knowledge.
He was unaware of the fame crashing over the city like a wave.
Unaware that his name was being shouted in markets, prayed for in commoner homes, and analyzed in noble strategy rooms.
He was deep in the silence of knowledge, his talent grinding away, increasing his reading speed, his comprehension, his absorption rate.
God Rewards Hard Work—and he was working harder than any scholar in history.
He selected another book. The cycle continued.
The world outside burned with his name, while he sat in cool, silent absorption, preparing for the next conquest, the next breakthrough, the next submission.
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