Chapter 560- Widening a Virgin’s Dantian
Her body convulsed.
Her back arched so violently it lifted entirely from the pool edge, her shoulder blades leaving the stone, her whole frame bowing upward in a rigid spasm that pressed her tits hard into his face. Her pussy clamped down on his shaft with a grip that would have stopped a lesser man entirely, the walls contracting in rapid, rolling pulses around the cock buried to her womb.
Tianlong felt it. He pulled out.
Completely.
The sudden absence was catastrophic.
Fanxue made a sound that had no precedent in her two hundred years of existence — a short, wrecked, confused cry of loss, her stretched pussy lips clinging to the departing shaft for one desperate moment before the suction broke with an audible, wet sound.
Then she squirted.
It was not a delicate thing. It was a pulsing, forceful stream that shot from her gaping, twitching hole in continuous jets, her whole body convulsing with each pulse, her soft belly rippling in waves, her round thighs shaking uncontrollably. The stream hit the pool water in splashing arcs, her body completely beyond her authority, her Plum Blossom cultivation base blazing with a pink-gold light that had begun emanating from her skin.
"AH~!! AHH~!! AAAH~!!" She was not forming words. She had left words behind three pulses ago.
Her hairy cunt gaped open and clenched and gaped again, the lips swollen red and stretched, the dark hair plastered flat with her own fluids and the blood-tinged pool water.
The other elders stared.
The broad-hipped elder’s hand had left her mouth and was now pressed flat against her own sternum, between her heavy tits.
The slender elder’s bare-shaved pussy was visibly flushed even from across the pool.
Tianlong looked down at Fanxue’s squirting, convulsing body with the calm of a man observing the entirely predictable outcome of a process he had initiated. He took his cock in one hand — the shaft gleaming wet with her, dark-veined, the full twelve inches of it coated in the evidence of her two-hundred-year virginity’s end — and stroked it once, deliberately, over her gaping entrance.
She twitched.
"Hnn~!" A broken, over-stimulated sound, her pussy lips brushing his cockhead with the trembling, desperate sensitivity of flesh that had been used past its limits and was responding to every touch with the helpless intensity of exposed nerve.
He pressed back in.
Her squirt had not finished. Her walls accepted him with an entirely different quality from before — not the clamping resistance of untouched flesh but the deep, wet, clenching welcome of a cunt that had been destroyed and rebuilt in the space of fifteen minutes and was now operating on new parameters.
PAH! PAAH! PHACCK!
"AAANGH~!! STILL~!! YOU ARE STILL — HIEKK~!! — ANCESTOR YOUR JADE PILLAR DOES NOT SOFTEN~!! DOES IT EVER~!! HAAIYAANGH~!! THIS DISCIPLE IS GOING TO —"
"Congratulations," he said.
The word arrived in the middle of her scream.
She blinked, not processing.
He drove home — all twelve inches, past her cervix, into her womb — and came.
The first blast was a pressure wave.
Thick, scalding, divine seed shot directly into her womb with the force of a man who had been operating his Horny God Physique for the better part of a day and whose body had decided the time was appropriate. It was not a normal volume. It was the volume of a cultivation technique that treated sexual fluid as spiritual fuel, dense with ki, with pheromone compound, with the raw energetic overflow of an Immortal Emperor’s release.
It filled her womb immediately.
Then kept coming.
Her belly rounded. Not visibly at first — then yes, visibly, the soft lower stomach distending in a smooth dome as the volume exceeded what her womb was designed to contain and pressed against every available interior surface. The cock bulge and the seed-dome occupied the same real estate beneath her skin, both visible, the combined effect making her abdomen look genuinely, grotesquely full.
Fanxue made a long, continuous sound that started as a scream and declined through its duration into something almost peaceful, her eyes rolling back, her body accepting the warmth with the helpless gratitude of flesh that had spent two hundred years waiting to be broken.
Then it started.
The glow.
It was not the dim, ambient Plum Blossom cultivation light that the technique produced at full meditation. It was a sudden, flooding luminescence that came from her dantian and expanded outward through her meridians in visible pink-gold lines, lighting her skin from the inside like a lantern, the light pressing through her pores and warming the steam around her.
Petals appeared.
Actual plum blossom petals, pink-white, translucent, manifesting out of the energy around her body in slow rotation, drifting upward from her glowing skin in a lazy, impossible spiral.
The pool water turned pink-gold around her.
The elders went silent.
Every single woman in the bath hall felt it — felt the breakthrough in their own cultivation bases as a sympathetic resonance, the Plum Blossom technique in each of them recognizing what was happening in Fanxue and responding with a warm, involuntary surge. Several of them gasped. One made a short, soft sound that was not professionally appropriate and did not apologize for it.
Sect master Yaolan’s eyes were wide.
Her four-hundred-year cultivation base, Peak Nascent Soul, the ceiling of the current hierarchy — was vibrating with a resonance it had not produced since the day she achieved her breakthrough, decades ago. The seed in the pool water brushed against her thighs and her meridians sang.
"She is —" Elder Mengsha’s voice came out two registers lower than usual. "She is breaking through."
Nobody confirmed this. Nobody needed to.
Fanxue lay on her back at the pool edge, her thighs open, his seed pouring slowly from her gaping cunt in thick white ropes, her belly still rounded with what had been pumped into her womb, her pink-gold glowing skin radiating warmth that reached every corner of the sealed bath hall.
Petals drifted from her skin.
Her eyes were open. Glassy. Staring at the stone ceiling with the expression of a woman who had just experienced the complete and total revision of two hundred years of assumptions about what her cultivation path was supposed to feel like.
Her status bloomed.
The formation characters formed in the air above her in the bath hall’s warm steam, pink and gold and unmistakable, visible to every cultivator in the room.
[Peak Nascent Soul — Achieved.]
The silence lasted four full seconds.
Four women, each of whom had spent between two and four hundred years reaching their current cultivation ceiling, stared at the formation characters above a woman who had crossed from mid-tier Nascent Soul to Peak in a single bath hall session.
Elder Mengsha’s hand pressed flat against her own lower dantian.
The broad-hipped elder’s heavy tits rose with a sharp, involuntary intake of breath, her dark nipples pressing forward as her Plum Blossom technique surged with the sympathetic warmth.
The slender elder with the bare-shaved pussy had unconsciously moved to stand at Tianlong’s right side in the water, her bare hip nearly against his, and was looking at Fanxue’s glowing body with the wide, focused attention of a woman who had just understood something she had not understood before.
Sect master Yaolan looked at Tianlong.