Chapter 626- Plump Bossom Sect’s New Rules
The morning after the battle, the sect grounds buzzed with a confusion that no one could resolve.
Male disciples gathered in clusters across the inner courtyard, their pink robes freshly laundered, their faces carrying the bright, eager expressions of young men who believed fortune had finally smiled upon them. They had been separated from the female disciples at dawn — a division ordered by Elder Fanxue herself, delivered with a composed face and steady voice that betrayed nothing.
"Why are we being separated?" Chen Wei asked, a broad-shouldered disciple with a square jaw and eager eyes. He stood with three other male cultivators near the spirit pond — a crystalline pool of condensed qi that had previously been reserved for Core Formation elders. Now, by the ancestor’s decree, it was theirs. "Is this the ancestor’s order?"
"It must be," said Luo Han, a wiry young man with sharp cheekbones and a perpetually smug expression. "The ancestor favors the male disciples. Did you not see? The Cai son and the Liu son — they were chosen as personal co-disciples. The ancestor himself is purifying their meridians, guiding their cultivation directly."
Chen Wei’s eyes widened. "You think he’ll choose more? From us?"
"Of course he will," Luo Han said, his chest puffing out. "Why else would we be given the spirit pond? The training grounds? These are inner disciple facilities — no, better than inner disciple. These are elder-level resources. The ancestor is preparing us. He sees our potential."
A third disciple — a quiet young man named Tang Yu — sat on the edge of the spirit pond, his feet dangling in the condensed qi, his eyes thoughtful. "The women were sent to the outer sect," he said. "All of them. Even the ones who fought in the battle. Even the ones who broke through to Foundation Establishment."
"Because the ancestor knows where true potential lies," Luo Han said, grinning. "In us. The men. The warriors. The women served their purpose — they held the line, they fought, they bled. But real cultivation? Real power? That’s ours."
Chen Wei nodded slowly. The logic felt right. The ancestor was a divine being — a man of incomprehensible power. It made sense that he would invest in male disciples, train them, elevate them. The women had been useful in the battle, certainly, but the future of the sect — the real future — belonged to the men.
"I’m going to prove myself," Chen Wei said, his fists clenching. "I’ll train harder than anyone. The ancestor will see me. He’ll choose me."
The male disciples murmured in agreement. They stripped to their waist and began their morning cultivation exercises around the spirit pond, their bodies glowing with absorbed qi, their minds filled with visions of golden cores and breakthrough realms and ancestor’s favor.
None of them noticed the female disciples being led away in the opposite direction.
The outer sect grounds were a stark contrast to the inner courtyard.
Where the male disciples lounged beside a spirit pond with condensed qi thick enough to drink from, the female disciples stood on bare stone in a wide, open training ground at the sect’s lowest tier. The area was functional — flat ground, a few wooden practice dummies, a stone platform at one end — but it carried none of the luxury the men now enjoyed. No spirit pond. No formation-enhanced training arrays. No cushioned meditation platforms.
Just stone. Wind. And the mountain.
Over a hundred female disciples stood in loose formation, their pink robes dusty from the walk down. They ranged in age from sixteen to thirty — outer disciples, inner disciples, tournament participants, war veterans. Their faces carried confusion, irritation, and the quiet, simmering resentment of women who had fought and bled for their sect and been rewarded with a demotion.
"What is this?" whispered Jia Ying, a young outer disciple with a round face and dark, watery eyes. She stood on her toes, trying to see over the taller women in front of her. "Why are we here? I trained in the inner courtyard yesterday. Why have we been moved to the outer grounds?"
"Shh," said her friend, a tall girl named Song Li with a long neck and small, pointed tits. "Something is happening. Look — the elders are coming."
They appeared at the edge of the training ground. Elder Fanxue walked first, her silver-trimmed robes pristine, her heavy tits swaying beneath the fabric with each measured step. Elder Qingshu followed — lean, muscular, her small firm tits barely visible beneath her tight robe. Elder Mingyu came next, her enormous, motherly tits straining against her robes, the wide dark nipples visible through the thin fabric. Elder Yaochi brought up the rear — young, lush, her enormous breasts bouncing with each step, her pink nipples poking through the silk.
Behind them, Sect Leader Su Ling. Her violet robes were fresh — clean, pressed, repaired from the battle. Her amber eyes were calm. Her thick braid hung over one shoulder. She walked with the measured stride of a woman who had killed four Golden Core sect leaders and been fucked on a battlefield by a god.
The female disciples bowed. A hundred pink-robed backs bent in unison.
"Disciples," Fanxue said, her voice carrying across the stone. "The ancestor has decreed a new cultivation method for the women of the Plum Blossom Sect. All female disciples — from outer sect to sect leader — will participate. No exceptions."
A murmur ran through the crowd. Jia Ying’s round face scrunched in confusion. Song Li tilted her head. A war veteran named Xu Ran — a thick-thighed, muscular woman with heavy tits and short-cropped hair — folded her arms and frowned.
"What kind of cultivation method?" Xu Ran called out. "We were told nothing. Only that we were to assemble here and await instruction."
Fanxue’s expression didn’t change. "Remove your clothes."
Silence.
Absolute, complete silence.
Then — chaos.
"WHAT?" Jia Ying’s voice was a squeak. Her round face went crimson.
"Remove our clothes?" Song Li’s small tits heaved beneath her robe, her long neck flushing red. "Elder, that’s — we’re disciples, not —"
"You want us to strip? HERE? In the open?" Xu Ran’s arms tightened across her heavy chest. "This is absurd. I am a war veteran. I killed eleven men in the battle. I will not —"
"Look at them," Qingshu said, her lean jaw tight, her voice cutting through the uproar. She gestured at Fanxue, at Mingyu, at Yaochi, at Su Ling. "Look at our cultivation bases. Look at our power. Every elder who participated in the battle — every woman who received the ancestor’s new cultivation method — advanced. Fanxue was late Foundation Establishment. She is now peak Golden Core. Mingyu was Foundation Establishment. She is now Golden Core. Yaochi. Qingshu. The mothers — Ruolan and Wanying. The disciples — Shui’er, Bao, Fen. Yue. All of them. Advanced. By entire realms. In one week."
The murmuring slowed. The disciples looked at the elders. Really looked. With their spiritual sense extended, touching the elders’ cultivation auras, measuring the golden cores blazing in their dantians.
Jia Ying’s watery eyes went wide. "Elder Fanxue — she’s — that’s Golden Core. Peak Golden Core. She was Foundation Establishment two weeks ago. I remember. I measured her aura during the tournament."
"Three weeks ago, I was at the same level as Elder Yaochi," Song Li whispered, her small tits trembling. "Now she’s — she’s beyond me. Far beyond me. She’s Golden Core. I’m still Qi Refining."