The heavy doors clicked shut behind him, severing the oppressive hostility of the bodyguard left out in the hall.
Shen Yu stepped deeper into the private suite. The air inside was stiflingly warm, carrying a dry, suffocating heat that felt akin to standing before an open furnace. It was the distinct, dangerous aura of a cultivator teetering on the verge of Qi Deviation, the excess Yin Fire energy radiating uncontrollably from her body, desperate to escape.
In the center of the room, seated upon a high-backed chair carved from frost-white Ice-Spirit Wood, sat Meng Yan.
She was a woman of mature, breathtaking beauty. She wore a loose, violet silk robe that did little to conceal the voluptuous, heavy curves of her body. Her skin was naturally fair, and she fought to maintain a cold, imperious look on her face.
Yet, Shen Yu's sharp eyes immediately caught the faint, unnatural flush creeping up her neck and cheeks, the tell-tale sign of the Lunar Fire burning her from the inside out. Her long, dark-emerald hair was pinned up with a simple jade hairpin, revealing the elegant, vulnerable slope of her neck.
She didn't stand. She simply watched him approach, her eyes sharp, assessing, and visibly weary.
"Young Master Tang," she said, her voice smooth but carrying the heavy, undeniable weariness of her condition. "You are punctual. I appreciate that."
"The fire in your meridians does not wait, Senior Meng," Shen Yu replied calmly. He took a seat on a chair three paces away, offering a polite, scholarly bow that was perfectly measured, neither too lowly nor too arrogant.
Meng Yan offered a faint, tired smile, resting her cheek against her knuckles. "You are remarkably direct. Most men in this city would spend half an incense stick of time exchanging pleasantries before daring to address my affliction."
"A physician's duty is to the truth, not to flattery," Shen Yu countered easily, his tone gentle but firmly professional.
He gestured to the heavy air between them. "And your symptoms are impossible to ignore. The temperature in this room is three degrees higher than in the hallway. Your breathing is shallow because deep breaths aggravate the fire scorching your lungs. And your hands..."
He looked at her hands, which were gripping the armrests of the Ice-Spirit chair, turning her knuckles white.
"...are trembling. The stagnation has already reached the minor meridians of your extremities."
Meng Yan exhaled a long, shaky breath. The flawless facade of the imperious Matriarch cracked, revealing the exhausted, desperate patient beneath.
"You are correct," she admitted, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "The pain... it is becoming unbearable. The Ice-Heart Pills from the Alchemy Guild, which I have been taking religiously, are no longer working."
"Ice suppresses fire," Shen Yu explained, his voice taking on a soothing, hypnotic cadence. "But your fire is not a normal flame. It is Lunar Fire, born from the friction of your Yin cultivation turning chaotic. Suppressing it with ice only creates pressure. It's like putting a heavy lid on a boiling pot. Eventually, it explodes."
He walked over to a small side table and placed the exquisite jade bottle he had prepared earlier onto the surface. The soft clink drew Meng Yan's undivided attention.
He picked up the bottle and uncorked it. Instantly, a complex, herbal aroma filled the room, spicy, floral, and underneath it all, a faint, sweet musk that made the mind spin pleasantly.
"This is a Spirit-Dredging Oil I refined myself," he lied smoothly, his expression a mask of professional integrity. "It contains Dragon Whisker Grass, Cooling Mint, Star Anise, and thirty other herbs formulated specifically to dilate the pores and relax the meridian walls."
He turned to look at her, his golden eyes locking onto hers with unyielding confidence.
"I will use a manual manipulation technique called the 'Nine-Cycle Spirit Flow.' I will massage the oil into your body, tracing the path of your Governor Vessel. I will physically push the stagnant fire out of your meridians and release it safely through your skin."
Meng Yan looked at the bottle, then at his hands.
"And this... requires me to disrobe?" she asked, a rare hesitation fracturing her voice.
"The oil must contact the skin directly to penetrate the acupoints," Shen Yu stated with unwavering professionalism. "Clothes would absorb the medicinal essence and render the treatment completely useless."
He paused, letting the silence stretch as he sensed her profound reluctance. Meng Yan held his gaze for a long moment. She searched for any ulterior motive but saw only clarity and clinical concern in his devastatingly beautiful face. The heat in her chest throbbed painfully, a cruel reminder of her grim reality.
"Very well. Can you turn around?" she whispered.
"Sure," Shen Yu said easily, pivoting on his heel to face the wall.
She stood up. With a fluid, practiced motion, she pulled the pin from her hair, letting the dark-emerald cascade tumble down her back. Then, her trembling hands went to the sash of her robe.
Rustle.
The heavy violet silk slid down her smooth shoulders, pooling onto the floor with a soft whisper.
Shen Yu didn't dare look back. He knew she was a Golden Core expert; her spirit sense was blanketing the room, tracking his every microscopic movement. If he peeked, the illusion of the noble doctor would shatter.
"You can turn around," she finally said, her voice tight.
Shen Yu turned.
What lay before him was a breathtaking masterpiece of mature allure, a true, perfect milf in every sense of the word. She possessed curves so incredibly lush and smooth they defied reason.
Her breasts were huge, and she was desperately cupping them with one arm to hide her areolas, but the heavy flesh still spilled generously over her forearm, only serving to make her look infinitely more seductive.
Her thighs were thick and powerful, clamped together as her other hand shielded her sex. Her usually cold face was flushed a deep, magnificent red with humiliation and profound shyness.
Shen Yu allowed himself to stare for a brief, calculated fraction of a second, drinking in the sight, before flawlessly re-establishing the cool, detached demeanor of a medical professional.
"Lie down on the bed, please," Shen Yu instructed, gesturing smoothly toward the large bed in the corner of the room.
Meng Yan moved awkwardly, lying face down on the mattress. As she shifted onto her stomach, Shen Yu was treated to the sight of her flawless, smooth back and her incredibly big ass. Her rear was so plump and soft that it jiggled like jelly with her movements. A primal urge flared in Shen Yu's mind; he wanted nothing more than to grab those cheeks and spank them red.
His "dragon" instantly began to rise, demanding attention, but Shen Yu ruthlessly clamped down on his lust. He silently circulated the Primordial Yin-Yang Scripture, forcing the energy to cool his physical arousal and maintain his absolute composure.
Shen Yu stepped up behind the bed. He tilted the jade bottle and poured a generous amount of the rich amber oil into his palms.
The Crimson Nectar, secretly hidden and perfectly blended within the herbal mixture—glistened deceptively in the dim light.
He rubbed his hands together to warm the oil. The friction immediately began releasing more of the potent, intoxicating pheromones into the stifling air.
"I am beginning," he warned.