The voice belongs to his father, Wang Xuhan.
"Heavens... What should this concubine do now..." Zhu's body trembled, her eyes wandering in shock. Oh god, her husband was right outside the door. If he were to smell the thick, musky scent of sex and raw Yang energy radiating from the room like a heatwave, her death would be a mercy compared to the humiliation.
She scrambled to her feet, her legs still weak and trembling, her inner thighs coated in a slick, sticky mess of fluids. The room was a disaster zone—the bed sheets were ruined, stained with sweat, saliva, and the thick, white essence that continued to leak from her body. The air was heavy, suffocating, reeking of debauchery.
"Son... Tianmo... What do we do?!" she whispered, her voice rising in panic. "If your father sees... If he smells..."
She looked at Biyue, who was still unconscious, her body marked with bruises and bite marks, her gaping pussy still oozing cum. The sight sent a fresh jolt of terror through her heart. They were caught red-handed. Or rather, red-faced and panting.
"Clean yourself," Tianmo said, his voice cutting through her panic like a cold blade. He stood up, not a hint of anxiety in his posture. He adjusted his robes, the silk sliding over his lean, muscular frame with ease. "And wake that useless woman up. If she cannot stand, drag her below the bed..."
"B-But... the smell..." Madam Zhu stammered, her hands frantically trying to wipe the cum from her thighs, only succeeding in smearing it further.
"Just hide..." Tianmo has nothing to hide. Even if they find out so what, that night his father was the one who told him to test her spirit root aptitude, he was already aware his wife would be claimed by another man that night. Xuhan is a logical man, putting the future before his personal issues.
The matter is Elder Yun. He only has one wife and if she were to betray him, he might be taken over by his heart demon. However, with his cultivation base, he can't do anything unless he doesn't comprehends how high the sky is.
Madam Zhu, seeing Tianmo's composure, swallowed her panic. She was a survivor. She grabbed a robe, not bothering to properly tie the sash, and scrambled toward the corner, dragging the limp, unconscious form of Biyue with her. She shoved the woman beneath the expansive bed frame, throwing a discarded sheet over her legs.
"Enter..." Tianmo said.
Wang Xuhan entered first, followed by Elder Yun, both with stern expressions.
Sniff* sniff*
"This... This smell... What is this smell?" Elder Wang Yun's face twisted into a grimace of disgust and suspicion. He sniffed the air again, his nose wrinkling as the thick, musky scent of unknown and spiritual energy assaulted his senses.
Patriarch Xuhan immediately sensed his second wife hiding beneath the bed and there was one more woman... Who could it be?! Gasp! It is Biyue.
He knew things would have developed between his son and his second wife but this much... Such a vast smell of sex and Biyue too?! He can't help but pat his brother's shoulder feeling pity for him.
"B-Brother... It seems we came at the wrong time, Tianmo has grown up, matters should be discussed later," Patriarch Wang Xuhan said, his voice calm but laced with a subtle warning. He turned to leave, placing a hand on Elder Wang Yun's shoulder to steer him toward the door.
"No," Elder Wang Yun said, his voice trembling. He shook off Xuhan's hand. "I... I smell something else. Something familiar."
He took a step forward, "Nephew... Do you also use Jasmine and Amber incense to aid your meditation? It is... quite similar to the scent my wife, Biyue, favors."
"Yes, elder Yun, Aunt Biyue's fragrance is a family secret. I, too, use it for meditation. It clears the mind and sharpens the spirit," Tianmo said calmly, stepping between his father and Elder Yun, subtly blocking the elder's path to the bed. "However, I must ask, Elder Yun, why do you inquire about such personal matters?"
Tianmo's voice was calm, but there was a cold edge to his words, a subtle threat that seemed to hang in the air. The slap of afternoon was still etched on his mind.
Elder Wang Yun's face flushed a mottled red, the veins in his temples throbbing visibly recalling the humiliation but he quickly composed himself and smiled.
"N-Nothing..." Elder Wang Yun forced his expression into a mask of placid indifference, though the corners of his lips twitched with suppressed resentment. He smoothed the front of his robe, trying to regain some semblance of dignity.
"Since Nephew Tianmo is in closed cultivation, this old one shall not disturb his Daoist heart further," Elder Yun said, his voice stiff and formal. He bowed slightly, a perfunctory gesture that lacked any real warmth. "I merely wished to inquire about the allocation of resources for the upcoming clan competition. We can discuss this matter at the morning assembly."
"Indeed," Patriarch Wang Xuhan interjected, his gaze sweeping over the room with a penetrating sharpness that lingered for a fraction of a second on the disheveled bed sheets.
Elder Wang Yun did not wait for a response. With a stiff, jerky motion, he turned on his heel and strode toward the door, his robes flapping around him like the wings of an agitated crow. He did not look back.
Patriarch Wang Xuhan, however, remained rooted to the spot. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back, his posture unassuming, yet his presence filled the room like a heavy, invisible mountain.
He looked at his son, his eyes calm, devoid of judgment, yet seeing everything.
"The path of cultivation is treacherous, son," Patriarch said, his voice low and smooth, carrying the weight of experience. "To embrace the Dao is to embrace the duality of existence. Passion is not the enemy of the Dao, provided it does not become a shackle that binds the spirit."
"However, a wise cultivator knows when to close the doors to his chamber and when to open the windows to let the wind clear the air. The scent of... 'meditation'... is potent tonight. Ensure it does not cloud your judgment for the trials ahead."
With that, he turned and followed Elder Yun out into the night, the heavy wooden door clicking shut behind him.
Silence returned to the room, but it was a fragile, tense silence.
Madam Zhu waited for a count of ten, her heart hammering against her ribs like a running horse. Only when she was certain the footsteps had faded into the distance did she dare to breathe. She scrambled out from the corner, her face pale, sweat beading on her forehead.
"That... That was too close..." she gasped, leaning against the wall for support. She looked at Tianmo, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and lingering adrenaline. "If your Uncle Yun had looked under the bed... If he had found Biyue... He would have gone mad. He would have drawn his sword and..."
She trailed off, shuddering at the thought. Elder Wang Yun was a man of pride, despite his earlier submission. To discover his wife not only in another man's bed but in the bed of his own nephew—the very disciple who had humiliated him publicly—would have been a catastrophe. It would have shattered the fragile peace of the Wang Family.
Tianmo walked over to the bed and looked down at Biyue, who was still unconscious, her breathing steady but shallow. The Spirit Upgrade Fruit was working its way through her system, refining her meridians and purging the impurities from her body.
Her vitality has been depleted greatly and using anything to help her recover would only increase the chance of natural poisoning.
"Father knows... With his spiritual sense, he easily found both of you," Tianmo said calmly, his voice cutting through the thick, musky air like a cold wind. He adjusted his sleeves, not bothering to look at the trembling woman. "He is a Golden Core cultivator. Even the walls of this room cannot hide the scent of Yang essence or the heat of two women in heat from his perception."
Madam Zhu froze, her face draining of what little color remained. "H-He knows? Then why... why did he not say anything? Why did he not strike us down for our transgression?"
Tianmo turned his gaze to her, his green eyes devoid of emotion, yet seeing straight through her soul.
"Because in the cultivation world, strength is the only truth that matters. My father is a pragmatic man. He sees not a sin, but an investment. If his son can tame the elders' wives and turn them into his loyal dogs, then the Wang Family grows stronger. Morality is a shackle for the weak; for the strong, it is merely a tool to control the masses. That day, when you seduced me in front of everyone, yet he still sent me with you at night... Do you think Father is dumb, unable to see the bigger picture??"
Madam Zhu swallowed hard, the logic chilling her to the bone yet strangely aligning with her own twisted worldview. "And... and Elder Yun?"
"Elder Yun is a frog at the bottom of the well," Tianmo uttered, his lip curling slightly. "He is unaware of the bigger world."
Madam Zhu slumped against the wall, the cool wood doing little to quell the feverish heat radiating from her skin. Tianmo's words hung in the air, heavy and absolute. The revelation that the Patriarch—the man who ruled the Wang Family with an iron fist—knew of her betrayal and not only allowed it but encouraged it as a transaction of power, shattered her remaining illusions.
She had thought herself a clever fox, manipulating the naive heir for a taste of heaven. Instead, she was merely a pawn in a game played by dragons.
"I... I understand," Madam Zhu whispered, her voice trembling. She looked down at her hands, still sticky with the remnants of their union. "This concubine will not disappoint the investment."
She quickly straightened her robes, her fingers fumbling with the sash. She needed to leave. The room felt like a cage, and the air was thick with the scent of her own debauchery.
If she stayed any longer, she feared the sheer weight of Tianmo's presence would crush her newfound Saint-grade spirit root before she even had a chance to stabilize it.
"This concubine will take her leave to... digest the medicine," she said, bowing low. She dared not look at Biyue, still lying unconscious beneath the bed like a discarded sack of grain.
"Go," Tianmo said, turning his back to her. "And remember, silence is the cheapest price to pay for power."
Madam Zhu didn't need to be told twice. She slipped out the door, melting into the shadows of the corridor like a ghost, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm against her ribs.
Once the door clicked shut, Tianmo stood alone in the silence of the room.
***
3 days passed by.
"Status..." he said in his mind.
[Status]
[Name: Wang Tianmo]
[Cultivation: First stage of the Great Foundation realm. (Early)]
[Spirit Root: Formless spiritual root. (Immortal-grade)]
[Bloodline: Primordial Dragon bloodline (Sealed, 21% unsealed)]
[Physique: Immortal Dao Body (sealed)]
[Supreme Dao bones: 8/268 — 3 unsealed, 5 sealed.]
[Meridians: 8/12 main meridians + 0/8 extra meridians. ( Unsealed )]
[Dantian: Immortal Dantian. (Indestructible)]
[Assets: Infinite Money Pouch, Direct Disciple Token, Seven Shadow Needles]
[Sword Intent: 80%]
[Arts: Heavenly Finger—I, Void step ]
Tianmo sat cross-legged on his primordial green lotus.
He has broken through the great foundation realm and unsealed his 8 Zodiac main meridians.
"System, exchange lesser dragon blood essence, moon herbs, and star iron."
[Processing exchange... 10,000 Spirit Stones deducted. Items ready.]
With a thought, the materials materialized on the floor before him. The dragon blood essence pulsed with a heavy, ancient rhythm, the moon herbs glowed with a pale, cold luminescence, and the star iron hummed with a dense, metallic resonance.
Tianmo didn't hesitate. He picked up the vial of dragon blood and swallowed it in one gulp.
Gulp.
Boom!
The moment the blood entered his stomach, it felt like a volcano had erupted inside him. Scorching heat surged through his meridians, tearing through the pathways like a wild beast. His blood began to boil, the red liquid turning a vibrant, shimmering gold as the Primordial Dragon bloodline asserted its dominance.
"Argh..." Tianmo gritted his teeth, his veins bulging under his skin, glowing like molten gold. The pain was excruciating, a feeling of his very cells being rewritten, destroyed, and reborn.
He quickly formed hand seals, activating the Heavenly Finger—I third chapter. He needed to control this energy, to refine it, or it would tear him apart.
"Concentrate the ocean into a drop..." he chanted internally, his voice strained. He focused the raging energy in his Dantian, compressing it into a single, dense point. The heat was drawn inward, pulled by the gravity of his will, condensing into a golden sphere of pure Yang power.
Sweat poured down his body, evaporating instantly upon touching his skin, turning into steam that filled the room.
Next, he grabbed the moon herbs and the star iron. He didn't use a furnace; he used his body as the cauldron. He placed the cold iron on his chest and the herbs in his mouth.
"Absorb."
The star iron began to melt, sinking into his skin like water into sand. It flowed into his bones, fusing with the marrow, turning his skeletal frame into a weapon capable of shattering mountains. The moon herbs dissolved in his mouth, a cold stream of Yin energy that rushed to meet the Yang fire of the dragon blood.
Yin and Yang collided.
CRACK!
The sound of bones breaking and reforming echoed in the room. Tianmo's body convulsed, his spine arching. His bones were being tempered by the star iron, becoming harder than diamond, yet retaining the flexibility of a willow branch. The moon energy soothed the fire, balancing the violent reaction, allowing the transformation to proceed without destroying his organs.
Time lost its meaning. Minutes turned into hours... Tianmo stood up.
All his bones were still at Diamond bones now. He also needs to strengthen his muscles and unlock the Immortal Dao physique blood cultivation remained hard with a lot of impurities.
[ Primordial Dragon bloodline 22% ]
After that, he went to the hot springs to take a bath.