Did Qing, as a cultivator, need to eat daily?
Not really. At her level of cultivation, she had long surpassed the need for food, sustaining herself on the wind and dew. But as a "human," not an "immortal," she had to live as one. Otherwise, she wouldn't be cultivating the Heavenly Dao; the Heavenly Dao would be cultivating her.
The greatest difference between the immortal path and the demonic path was this: the immortal path, though it sought detachment, wasn't devoid of emotion. It pursued the Dao, not becoming the Dao itself, aiming for immortality rather than transforming into a vessel of the Heavenly Dao.
The demonic path either completely abandoned human desires and emotions, becoming cold and amoral, treating all things as straw to achieve the Dao's ruthlessness, or it indulged fully in the seven emotions and six desires, seeking to overcome the Heavenly Dao through human will.
Qing sat quietly in the center of the grand hall, eyes closed in meditation. Lunar Tower was empty, not a single maid in sight, exuding an air of solitude and chill.
Yet her beautiful figure here was like a lone plum blossom on a snowy peak, blooming defiantly against the cold, sweeping away the desolation with its presence.
When Elder Mu arrived with the food box and saw Qing meditating, his heart pounded. His pulse raced, though he couldn't tell if it was admiration or guilt.
Not daring to meet Qing's eyes, he gave a quiet greeting, opened the box, placed the day's meal on a small table, and stepped aside to wait.
Qing opened her eyes, her steps light as she sat at the table. Picking up the chopsticks with her delicate, jade-like fingers, whiter and smoother than the ivory utensils, she sampled the still-warm dishes.
As she reached for the rice, Elder Mu, standing aside, flickered his gaze, his hands trembling uncontrollably with a mix of mortal terror and indescribable excitement.
Qing's beautiful eyes glanced sideways at the restless Elder Mu. Her cherry-like lips parted, tender and inviting, as she brought a bite of rice to her mouth, chewing slowly between her teeth.
The sweet, fragrant rice spread across her tongue, but there was an odd taste, sticky and faintly pungent, coming from somewhere unknown.
Her brows furrowed slightly, but she didn't feel much revulsion. It even seemed to stimulate her taste buds, prompting her to take a few more bites unconsciously.
Elder Mu watched, his heart pounding with both thrill and terror, fearing Qing might notice something amiss.
The semen melted in her warm mouth, the once-solid, transparent fluid turning liquid again. Though the countless sperm had lost their vitality after leaving the scrotum, the thick hormonal scent flooded her body, subtly altering Qing's aura.
The solid barrier of her cultivation realm seemed to loosen, ever so slightly.
But it vanished in an instant, so fleeting that even Qing wondered if it was an illusion, unable to tell if the sensation had truly existed.
After finishing her meal, Qing remained silent for a long time.
Elder Mu crept forward to clear the dishes, moving carefully, afraid to disturb Qing's state of mind.
"Today's meal was good."
As Elder Mu prepared to leave with the box, Qing opened her eyes and spoke with her back to him.
She didn't notice the faint crimson flicker in her eyes, gone as quickly as it appeared.
Elder Mu froze at her words, a rush of excitement and twisted satisfaction surging within him. But he dared not say anything, only bowing low as usual before leaving the palace.
Much later, Qing seemed to snap out of her reverie. Her slender hand brushed against her full chest, feeling her slightly quickened heartbeat. She murmured to herself, "What's... wrong with me?"
Meanwhile, Elder Mu, reveling in his sneaky act, hurried back to his quarters with the food box. He yanked down his pants, revealing his already steel-hard cock. The veins bulged, the glans gleaming and round like a massive mushroom head, a vivid red.
Frenzied, he stroked his shaft. Under the dual stimulation of his body and mind, he soon ejaculated. The semen erupted like molten lava, unending. He aimed the glans at his semen vat, and the half-full pool rose higher under the relentless streams gushing like a faucet.
"Oh..."
He gave a final, indulgent tug from the hairy base to the slit, coaxing out a few tenacious drops that dangled and fell into the vat, connected by thin, reluctant threads.
Elder Mu collapsed on the bed, so comfortable he didn't want to move.
Then, as if struck by a thought, he grew wild with excitement again. Scrambling up, he opened Qing's food box and stared at the ivory chopsticks.
Imagining those chopsticks held by Qing's delicate hands, lifting rice to her fragrant lips, an uncontrollable urge seized him.
Like a madman, Elder Mu licked the chopsticks with his foul, blackened mouth, savoring the faint trace of Qing's lip scent until they were coated in his stinking saliva. Only then did he stop.
Meanwhile, in her main hall, Qing gazed at the sky, her eyes dazed and wavering. She lightly touched her lips.
"Sister!"
A group escorted a refined, beautiful girl to Lunar Tower. Li rushed into the hall, spotting Qing meditating in the center. She gleefully threw herself into her sister's arms, nuzzling her small head against Qing's ample chest, reveling in its warmth and softness.
Normally, Qing would have reacted naturally, but the moment Li leapt into her embrace, something flashed through her mind. Her body stiffened, her soft waist turning rigid as wood, unmoving.
"Sister?"
Noticing Qing's odd reaction, Li looked up, puzzled.
"It's nothing..."
Fortunately, Qing regained her composure in an instant, her demeanor becoming effortlessly natural again. A rare smile, almost impossible to outsiders, graced her face.
"You little rascal, tired of playing outside? What brings you here today?"
If her fellow disciples at Xian Sect saw the cold, moon-like Qing smiling, they'd slap themselves to check if they were dreaming.
But perhaps no one could imagine the fairy-like figure from Xian Sect, who seemed above all desire and emotion, not only fretted over a man...
But also had an unclear entanglement with a grotesque, filthy, decrepit eunuch like Elder Mu. If the sect's disciples, or even the young heroes of the righteous path, knew, they'd likely tear Elder Mu apart, reducing him to ashes.
Mentioning her time outside, Li's face flushed involuntarily. That damned fatso dared to humiliate this princess! In a few days, she'd make him pay!
Seeing her sister's shy blush, Qing felt a pang of unease. To her, Li's outings meant time spent with Feng.
Still, she wouldn't scold her little sister, though a certain resolve deepened within her.
Though each harbored their own thoughts, the sisters chatted pleasantly enough.
Just then, a panting eunuch arrived at the hall's entrance, kneeling to announce, "Eldest Princess, someone outside requests your presence. He claims to be Leon from Sky Sword Sect, here to discuss important matters."
"I understand."
Qing knew what this was about. Three months after Ren's ascension, with a month until the New Year's Grand Assembly, it would prove Bright Hua's succession was secure and settled. The righteous sects sent their younger generation to the capital not just to meet the new emperor and pledge loyalty, but also to negotiate interests with the court.
But "Leon" from "Sky Sword Sect"...
Qing frowned slightly. She vaguely recalled him, a refined young man, gentle as jade, unlike his sharp-edged peers.
And it seemed he harbored a special affection for her.
"Sister?" Li said sweetly, "I'll take my leave then."
Yet her feet didn't move. Her eyes darted about, feigning indifference, but beneath the cute obedience was a clear, pleading longing, like a puppy blinking hopefully, her stunning yet youthful face screaming "I want to go."
Qing couldn't help but smile, stroking Li's hair. "Come along."
"Yay!" Li jumped with joy, then hesitated. "But... is it proper for me to go?"
"It's just a gathering of righteous young talents. One more won't matter. Besides," Qing paused, "your Feng will be there."
"Really?"
Li's eyes lit up with delight, though she quickly put on a stern face, barely hiding her glee. "Who... whose Feng? I just want to see the world."
Qing didn't bother exposing her sister's poor attempt at concealment, merely summoning attendants. Taking the little princess out relieved the maids and eunuchs, who'd rather Qing handle their troublesome charge than risk Ren or Mei's wrath themselves.
With a surge of mana, a wind-riding spell lifted the sisters' feet. In Li's awestruck gaze, they ascended over a hundred yards, clouds within reach. It was her first taste of immortal arts, thrilling yet nerve-wracking. Afraid of falling, she clung to Qing's sleeve.
Her eyes peered downward, watching the towering palaces shrink to toy-like models, the bustling maids and eunuchs like ants.
But then, halfway down the mountain, she gasped in amazement. In late autumn, nearing winter, when trees shed leaves and grasses withered, a patch behind a residence bloomed with lush green and vibrant reds and purples.
"Sister, look! Flowers over there!"
Qing's eyes flicked sideways, realizing it was behind Elder Mu's quarters. But why were the plants thriving so?
"Huh!" Li pointed at an ant-like figure below. "Sister, someone's watering them, but the water's all white. Is it milk?"
A cloud suddenly obscured the view, blocking Li's sight.
It was Qing's doing, she'd summoned the cloud instantly to shield her sister's eyes.
A mix of shame and irritation flashed in Qing's gaze. With vision a hundred times sharper than Li's, she clearly saw the "watering" figure: the wretched, ugly, decrepit Elder Mu.
It wasn't water or milk he poured!
It was a bucket brimming with thick, white semen!
Even from afar, Qing seemed to smell the overpowering stench.
Having been drenched in that thick semen twice before, the memory lingered vividly. In the wind, she unconsciously rubbed her thighs together, her breath quickening slightly.
"That eunuch..."
Qing's face burned, her eyes avoiding the sight yet drawn to Elder Mu and his bucket of semen. Her flat, soft stomach inexplicably heated, a spark igniting within, her legs restless with unease.
In this world, only two could truly disrupt her composure: Feng and Elder Mu.
If Elder Mu heard the princess he adored rated him so, he'd cry injustice thrice, then rejoice madly.
Back in Yong Row's depths, there were channels for waste disposal. Elder Mu could dump his overflowing semen vats at night, the stench masked by the latrines' odor.
But after Qing moved him to the mountainside, no such outlet existed. If the vat overflowed, he had to deal with it locally.
Knowing his abnormality could mean death if discovered, and with the palace's rear mountain largely deserted, he poured it all behind his quarters.
His semen, somehow mutated, defied the seasons, making the flowers and grasses flourish strikingly amid autumn's decay.
"Achoo!"
Elder Mu, pouring the last half-bucket of congealed semen, half-solid, half-liquid like jelly, sneezed, nearly spilling it on his feet. He scratched his nearly bald scalp, puzzled, as his cock twitched.
Unaware, the princess he idolized had just floated overhead, witnessing his absurd deeds.
"Elder Mu, bring the food box up..." A voice from the main gate snapped him out of his thoughts. Hastily setting down the bucket, he scurried inside.