Half a month had passed.
The sun shone high in the sky, casting its light on Elder Mu's exposed buttocks. His aged rear was covered in wrinkles, with a ring of black hair surrounding his anus. His thighs bore several uneven dark spots, resembling an old, worn-out mangy dog.
Opening his cloudy eyes, Elder Mu's gaze fell upon a towering, fiery red erection, standing like a massive pillar. Morning wood brought him unparalleled vitality and energy. This fearsome purplish-red shaft was wrapped in bulging veins, its swollen head pulsing rhythmically, the slit occasionally leaking a slick, oddly scented clear fluid.
Elder Mu scratched at his two heavy, blackened sacks with both hands. Over the past few days, they had grown larger than a strong man's fist, far surpassing the size of goose eggs, almost reaching the legendary proportions of dragon balls.
His semen production was terrifyingly prolific. Raising his head, Elder Mu looked at the ceiling, where sticky, thread-like clumps of thick white fluid hung in strands. The floor was littered with pools and pits of ejaculate, the pungent stench mingling with the room's pervasive rot to create a dizzying, lust-inducing miasma.
In recent days, Elder Mu had found his source of joy in a delirious haze: furiously stroking his monstrous earthly python. After half an hour of relentless rubbing, the shaft would swell even further, becoming grotesque and menacing. At climax, it could reach over thirty centimeters in length and ten in girth.
"Ugh! Ohhh… ah… ah… ah…"
Elder Mu worked himself into a frenzy, his dry, claw-like, filth-stained fingers gripping the massive rod as he reached the pinnacle of ecstasy. The veins bulged grotesquely, the tubes ached with pressure, and the slit erupted like a cannon, firing its load.
A torrent of semen, as if it were raining, slammed into the ceiling. The viscous white sludge slid down in strings, creating a spectacular scene of a semen shower within the room.
The ejaculate carried a foul odor, pooling on the floor into a sizable lake. The sheer volume surpassed that of livestock like pigs or horses, each release equivalent to nearly a bucket of water.
After ejaculation, his oversized sacks would shrink slightly, only to replenish at an unbelievable rate, swelling back to full, taut water balloons within half an hour.
Post-climax, Elder Mu would lie on the bed, panting lightly, basking in comfortable satisfaction.
It was fortunate that Yong Row was as desolate as a graveyard, and his hidden dwelling was so remote and neglected that no one bothered with it. He knew he was despised, not daring to venture out during the day, only scavenging leftovers in the dead of night.
If the palace ever discovered that a shriveled, eighty-year-old eunuch, seemingly on death's door, possessed a jaw-droppingly massive cock and a pair of regrown, goose-egg-sized balls…
Not only would Elder Mu face a fate worse than death, but half the palace, men and women alike, would likely perish alongside him.
Having vented his morning restlessness, his semi-soft shaft drooped slightly as he sat in a daze.
In Elder Mu's limited worldview, there had only been strange voices and pain. But ever since that "fairy" appeared, the torment ceased, replaced by waves of unprecedented pleasure.
Qing's flawless, jade-like beauty, her cool voice, and piercing gaze; the delicate, sculpted collarbone peeking from her long robes; the faint outline of her high, firm breasts beneath her elegant neck…
And the final image in his mind: Qing drenched in semen, the thick white fluid coating her face like a mask, her cascading hair speckled with droplets, her slender dress clinging wetly to her body, accentuating every alluring curve…
A fire ignited in Elder Mu's lower abdomen. His once-drooping shaft surged back to life, pointing fiercely skyward, as if eager to pierce the semen-stained ceiling and unleash itself toward the fairy princess.
"Fairy! Princess!"
"Heh heh heh…"
His eyes glazed over, lost in fantasy as he vigorously stroked his monstrous cock.
Unbeknownst to him, the object of his obsession was, at that very moment, standing atop the highest peak of the imperial city, eyes closed, struggling to clear her mind and enter a meditative state, failing time and again.
Qing stood gracefully atop a massive boulder on the city's highest mountain. Her plain white gown and dark inner robe accentuated her lithe, elegant figure. The mountain breeze gently lifted the hem of her skirt, revealing a glimpse of her ivory-carved calves, flawless, without a trace of excess, a natural perfection that seemed divinely crafted. Her mere presence was enough to make others feel inferior.
The wind tousled her dark hair, a single strand swaying in the breeze, mirroring her turbulent state of mind.
Her moon-bright eyes seemed unfocused. Though she gazed into the distance, her beautiful pupils were hazy, her thoughts elsewhere.
For days, she had felt trapped in a cage, her mind a tangled web of complexity. Yet, there was no sign of losing control to inner demons. Her cultivation had even stabilized further, too stabilized, in fact, leaving her unable to glimpse any hope of a breakthrough.
Qing realized she had hit a "bottleneck." Without a revelation in her state of mind, her cultivation would stagnate forever.
For a seeker of the Dao like Qing, this was worse than death.
The ancients said, "To hear the Dao in the morning, one may die content by evening."
This was why her master and sect had sent her down the mountain to temper her heart. Secluding herself in misty forests would only waste her talent and halt her progress.
Now, facing this bottleneck, Qing's thoughts were a chaotic mess, her spiritual sense wavering…
To break through this confusion on her own, she had tried for so long, only to sink deeper without a shred of progress.
She would need external help.
The first person who came to Qing's mind was a stubborn yet resolute young man with unwavering eyes, Feng.
But then, inexplicably…
Her thoughts drifted to that decrepit room, the stench-ridden bed, and the skeletal, filthy, lecherous Elder Mu…
For the first time in years, she felt the walls of her cultivation barrier loosen.
Yet Qing believed Feng was the one her heart truly favored. Elder Mu was just a fleeting, foam-like dream, best left to drift away with the wind.
Resolved, Qing cast her gaze beyond the imperial city, ready to step into the void.
"Sister! Sister!"
Li's voice rang out from below the boulder. The little imp was brimming with excitement today, a gaggle of eunuchs and maids trailing behind, shouting "Little Ancestor," unable to keep up with her pace.
With a light tap, Qing floated down gracefully, landing before Li like a descending fairy. She gently smoothed Li's hair, her demeanor calm and tender.
She didn't want her younger sister to know of her current struggles, it would only burden her with unnecessary worry.
Seeing the exhausted eunuchs and maids finally catch up, Qing waved them off before they could catch their breath. "I'm here. You may leave."
With the eldest princess present, the servants sighed in relief. In the entire palace, only the emperor, empress, and this elder sister could rein in the mischievous Li.
The lead eunuch apologized and led the group back down the mountain. Thankfully, the descent was easier, or they might have collapsed.
Atop the peak, only the two princesses remained, one tall, one small. Their radiant smiles outshone the blooming flowers of the mountain. Who could rival their beauty?