Xiu Mei's eyes fluttered open as Shi Yang gently disentangled himself from her embrace. A dreamy haze still lingered in her gaze, her body glowing with the remnants of pleasure.
"Don't think that was it," he said, his palm caressing her cheek as he looked into her dazed eyes. "I won't be satisfied until I've painted your womb again… and again."
Her body twitched at his words, a shiver coursing through her. Then she smiled slyly. "Then fill me as much as you want."
She shifted, straddling him with practiced grace, her gaze lowering until she found his manhood. Guiding him into her, she sank down slowly, swallowing his thick shaft inch by inch as the carriage jolted forward.
Shi Yang gripped the reins behind her, teeth clenched as her heat stretched around him. Xiu Mei gasped, her breath catching as his girth filled her completely, pressing against every sensitive place inside her. A low moan spilled from her lips as he began to move, his thrusts deliberate and powerful, striking deep with each motion.
The rhythmic creak of the carriage wheels, the steady clatter of hooves, and the faint jingle of harness bells became part of their symphony—blending seamlessly with their gasps and moans.
"Uncle Shi… harder," Xiu Mei panted between clenched teeth, her nails biting into his shoulders as she met his thrusts with desperate abandon. Her body moved like a serpent—writhing, rolling, riding him without restraint.
The carriage lurched over a rut, jolting them both violently. For an instant, panic flickered across her face—fear of being seen, of being caught. But then Shi Yang's hands clamped down on her hips like iron, steadying her as he drove up into her harder, faster, and deeper. All thoughts of the outside world vanished.
"Ah—Uncle Shi—I'm going to…!" She cried, her voice breaking as pleasure overwhelmed her.
With one final, brutal thrust, Shi Yang buried himself to the hilt, so deep she swore she could feel him in her throat. The dam broke. Her body convulsed violently, walls milking him for everything he had as her orgasm ripped through her in waves. White-hot bliss blurred her vision until she thought she might pass out.
Shi Yang grunted low as his own release surged, filling her with thick spurts that painted her insides until she overflowed. He held her tight, grinding against her as every last drop emptied into her trembling body.
The carriage swayed gently as their cries faded into panting silence. Xiu Mei slumped against him, her face buried in his neck, boneless and spent. Her chest rose and fell in time with his, her body humming with the afterglow.
After a long moment, she lifted her head, lips curved in a languid, contented smile. "That was… incredible," she whispered hoarsely.
Shi Yang chuckled deep in his chest, brushing damp strands of hair from her flushed face. "We're far from done," he murmured, voice heavy with satisfaction.
His hips rolled upward, drawing a startled whimper from her as he made sure she felt every inch of his thick shaft still buried inside her. Her arms tightened around him, her body trembling anew.
His hands roamed her curves, kneading and spreading her flesh until her rear and folds swelled against his touch. "Let's enjoy ourselves until Little Yoke and White tire out," he said with a wicked grin.
Before she could reply, he shifted her effortlessly, spinning her to straddle him in reverse. She gasped as the sudden change forced his cock deeper, striking that secret place within her with every thrust of his hips.
"Oh… Uncle Shi…" She moaned, voice high and raw as pleasure rolled through her. His grip tightened on her hips, holding her steady as he drove up into her relentlessly.
The new angle let him pound against her womb's entrance with every stroke, while friction sparked along her most sensitive point. Her breasts bounced with each thrust, nipples hard and aching, and she leaned forward slightly with a needy whine.
Shi Yang bent forward, capturing one stiff peak between his lips, teeth grazing before he suckled hungrily. The dual assault—mouth and cock—sent Xiu Mei spiraling, her body convulsing with raw ecstasy.
She screamed as release tore through her again, legs splaying wide as a gush of clear nectar rained from her trembling body. Her thighs quivered, her breath hitching as she writhed through the aftershocks.
Shi Yang's eyes locked on her ruined, bliss-drunk face—flushed, glowing, utterly ravished. The sight alone made his cock twitch inside her clenching depths, a fresh wave of hunger rising within him.
Slowly, her dazed eyes refocused. "Uncle Shi…" she whispered hoarsely, leaning forward until their foreheads touched.
Something unfamiliar stirred in Shi Yang's chest—warmth, unbidden and dangerous. His arms wrapped around her without thought, cradling her trembling body close.
"Xiu Mei…" he murmured, his voice rough with more than lust. "You're… amazing."
Her glassy eyes softened, a tender smile ghosting her lips. No words were needed.
Shi Yang kissed her deeply, slowly, savoring her taste as the carriage rolled on. Time bled away—only their entwined bodies and mingling breaths mattered. Whatever storms lay ahead, Shi Yang knew he would face them with her, hand in hand, flesh to flesh, heart to heart.
—
The horizon was still dark, the sky painted with the faintest brush of red where dawn threatened to rise. The air was cool, crisp, and filled with the scent of damp earth.
Xiu Mei lay curled inside the carriage, her breathing soft and even, her hair a dark curtain spilling over her cheek. Outside, the two tiger cubs had finally exhausted themselves from their endless play—White nestled beneath the tree roots while Yoke sprawled half on top of her, his little paw draped over her like a greedy lover even in sleep.
By the horse, Yueqin crouched with quiet focus, her delicate hands offering root vegetables to the beast, which nibbled obediently, snorting clouds of mist into the morning chill. A few paces away, Han Jie sat cross-legged on the dirt, her aura pulsing faintly with a scarlet glow as she refined the fifth fire Dao pill, sweat glistening faintly on her brow.
Shi Yang's gaze lingered on them all for a brief moment before turning inward. His hand lifted, fingers brushing over the wooden-sealed bottle. The waxy plug came free with a soft crack, and he slipped a wood Dao pill onto his tongue. Bitter and earthy, it dissolved as his breath deepened and his mind sank into meditation.
He envisioned a vast forest. Towering trees rose endlessly above him, their canopies interwoven in a living sea of green. His meridians thrummed, channels clearing as wood essence surged through him, flowing steady and deep, nourishing like rain upon dry soil. His Qi pathways expanded, and his Dao became sturdier, roots digging deeper into unseen earth.
Then—
A sound.
A creak, faint but undeniable.
In the depths of his spirit sea, the heavy wooden door that had always lingered shut… shifted. Its hinges groaned as it pushed open, and in that instant, a violent tide of wood essence burst outward. His body trembled where he sat, threads of greenish light leaking from his pores, his aura momentarily surging before stabilizing.
But Shi Yang did not open his eyes.
Instead, he stepped forward, crossing the threshold within his spirit sea—
And the forest vanished.
His senses snapped awake to something utterly foreign.
Cold steel pressed against his back. His limbs were bound tight, leather straps pinning them to a narrow surgical tray beneath blinding fluorescent lights. The sterile smell of disinfectant burned his nose, so harsh it made him gag. His body was wrong—small, fragile, no longer flesh and blood but translucent and shimmering. His skin glowed faintly with green, his limbs thin and delicate. Wings—gossamer, veined, and twitching in panic—fluttered uselessly against the straps.
He looked down.
He was no man. No cultivator. No mortal.
He was a pixie, no taller than a child's hand, trapped and displayed like an insect in a jar.
His head whipped to the side. Cold metal trays lined the counter, scalpels gleaming under the sterile light. A chalkboard behind him read in neat block letters:
BIOLOGY – FROG DISSECTION
And in the rows of seats beyond, faceless figures sat with notebooks open, their empty sockets fixed on him with silent expectation.
Shi Yang's chest heaved, fury clashing with disbelief.
"...What kind of farce is this?" he whispered, his tiny voice trembling against the white walls of the classroom.
The creak of the back door echoed sharply in the sterile silence. A woman entered—her heels clicking against tile, robes swaying in strange contradiction to the modern walls.
She was draped in pale linen robes stitched with faded talisman papers, each one etched in cramped, archaic runes that fluttered faintly as if breathing. Around her neck hung a string of jade charms, their surface worn smooth by years of use. Her eyes—sharp, narrow, and cold—swept the classroom before locking onto Shi Yang strapped on the tray.
Behind her, the students shifted, and at last, their faces were clear.
Shi Yang's heart skipped.
They were his old classmates—every last one of them. Boys he had sparred with in the gym, girls who had whispered in corners of the cafeteria. Familiar faces—some grinning, some bored, some whispering idly as if this was any ordinary lesson. Not one seemed to question why he, their once-friend, was now a caged thing with wings pinned to a dissection tray.
"Class," the teacher's voice rang out, calm and assured, "today we continue our study of astral fauna. The pixie's heart is a natural generator of wood essence. Properly preserved, it can be used to form a 'Pixie Heart Barrier,' a formation known for its resilience and regenerative qualities."
Her hands moved gracefully, drawing runes in the air with a piece of chalk that never touched the board. Each glowing stroke lingered in the air like fireflies. "Observe the circulatory threads along the wings. Once excised, they can be inscribed into talismans to double their potency."
Shi Yang's fists clenched. His small chest heaved as he strained against the straps.
Wood barriers… talismans… Her words were fragments of a nightmare—ritual cruelty veiled as academic study.
The straps were tight, but here, in this strange astral body, his consciousness was sharper than steel. He steadied his breath, letting his spirit body slip free from the pixie's husk—an astral projection layered over this pixie form.
Like mist, he slid through his bindings. The straps loosened with a thought, as if they had never truly held him. He darted back into his body, wings snapping open with a violent flutter.
Gasps rippled through the classroom.
"Eh?!" one student cried, dropping his pen.
"Teacher, it's moving!" another shouted.
But Shi Yang didn't waste a breath. His wings blurred, and he launched off the tray, slicing through the air toward the ceiling.
"Foolish creature."
The teacher's talismans flared—five slips of yellow igniting around her body in a perfect ring. Her hand thrust out, and from her sleeve shot a chain of green light, sharp as a whip, lashing at Shi Yang with crackling force.
Below, the other pixies—dozens of them—screamed from their glass cages. Their tiny fists pounded against the translucent walls, wings thrashing.
"Free us! Please—take us with you!"
"Don't leave us to be cut apart!"
"Help us!"
Their cries pierced him—dozens of desperate, broken voices trembling with terror.
Shi Yang's teeth ground together. Rage flared hotter than any flame, even in this tiny, trembling body. What is this rage? Is this my trial in this world… just like the ones in my other inner realms?
The chain of light snapped closer. His eyes narrowed as he summoned his Qi into his wings. They glowed with newfound intensity, propelling him in a sharp burst to the side—dodging the strike by a hair's breadth.
"I'll help, Miss Aoyun!"
A female student vaulted from her desk, a glass beaker in hand. Using the table as leverage, she leapt high, hair whipping through the air as she swung down. Swish! The sharp rim of the beaker slammed over his tiny form, trapping him inside.
"Interesting," Shi Yang muttered, glaring through the curved glass. "That was no doubt a movement technique…" His lips curled into a grin as Qi surged into his arms. "Featherless Palm!"
With a sharp strike, his palm slammed into her index finger.
"Ah—!" The girl yelped, releasing the beaker. It slipped from her hands and shattered against the ground in a spray of shards.
Shi Yang's wings snapped open, carrying him aloft once more. He streaked across the classroom, ignoring the startled gasps of his former classmates, and dove toward one of the backup pixie cages. With a burst of Qi, he smashed the lock and pulled a trembling pixie free.
"Go! Free the others!" he barked, thrusting the tiny figure toward the nearest trays.
The pixies inside snapped out of their daze, wings buzzing as they darted into the room with frantic determination.
A sudden flare lit the corner of Shi Yang's eye—the teacher had raised a talisman. From its surface, a blazing fireball erupted, roaring across the classroom straight toward him.
Shi Yang twisted midair, Qi flooding into his palm. With a sharp thrust, he met flame with force.
"Featherless Palm!"
His strike smashed into the fireball, scattering it into harmless sparks that fizzled away in the air.
His eyes narrowed as he dove.
"How insufferable," Miss Aoyun spat, clicking her tongue. Her fingers formed a rapid seal. "Asura Needle Pin!"
Thousands of razor-thin Qi needles shimmered into existence and streaked toward the pixies like a storm of steel rain.
Shi Yang clenched his teeth, wings beating furiously as he braced for impact. The needles tore through the air—piercing his shoulders and legs, stabbing fire into his tiny body. He grunted, ripping one free.
Damn it…!
Snarling, he shot toward a student—the same girl who had tried to trap him with the beaker. In one swift motion, he pressed the glowing Asura tip against her throat.
"Attack me, and she dies!"
The girl stiffened, eyes wide in terror. "M-Miss Aoyun—!"
"Move, and you die as well," Shi Yang hissed, his weapon digging into her skin.
Miss Aoyun froze, fury and hesitation flickering across her face.
"Drop your talismans. Now."
Her jaw tightened, but one by one, she let the slips of paper fall to the ground.
"Good. To the side of the room," Shi Yang ordered coldly, forcing the girl to shuffle forward with him until they reached the scattered talismans.
"Pick them up. One at a time. Show me."
The girl's trembling hands lifted each talisman. Shi Yang studied them carefully, his spirit quivering with every slip she held up—until one in particular pulsed faintly with resonance.
His wings twitched. That one.
"You. Give it to me. Now—go to the window. Open it."
The girl's fingers shook as she pushed the frame wide. Cold air rushed in.
Shi Yang launched forward without hesitation, wings blazing with Qi. Several pixies strong enough to fly followed in his wake, their desperate buzzing filling the room.
Behind them, chaos erupted—Miss Aoyun shouting in fury, students scrambling.
But the moment Shi Yang cleared the window, the world outside erupted.
WHOOOOSH!
A torrent of flames roared upward, hotter than molten iron. The fire swallowed the night sky, pouring straight into the opening like the mouth of a dragon.
Shi Yang's eyes widened—there was no time to dodge. The inferno crashed into him and the pixies in a single breath.
Screams shrilled. Wings ignited like paper. His flesh blistered, seared, and cracked as the heat consumed him whole. The air was fire; the world was pain.
The pixies burst apart one by one, burning motes scattering like ash in a storm. His own body curled, his Qi screaming uselessly against the tide of flame.
And then—nothing.
Darkness.
Shi Yang's breath hitched as his eyes snapped open. His body sat cross-legged, drenched in sweat, yet whole. The searing agony lingered only as a phantom ache.
The meditation chamber around him was silent.
He lowered his gaze. The Wood Pill in his dantian had dissolved completely, its essence fully absorbed into his being. His Qi flowed stronger, deeper, like new roots threading into ancient soil.
His lips curled faintly.
"A trial… nothing more."
The flames, the bindings, the betrayal of his body—all of it had been an illusion, a crucible to temper his spirit.
But the strength it left behind was real. "That was my first death in my inner world, quite interesting," he murmured, taking out another pill and swallowing it. This time he found the door was closed again, but as he started digesting the pill, it opened once more, and he found himself back on the dissection tray.