Dual Cultivation: Gathering SSS-Rank Wives in the Cultivation World

The queen arrived. Empress Lihwa, her melodic voice, her composed face, her emerald robes, was there. She walked onto the balcony. Her steps, the graceful, empress steps, were there.

"Your Majesty," the empress said. Her voice was warm. The smile, the diplomatic, hostess smile, was there. "You have been talking to my daughter for half an hour now. Shouldn’t you give the chance to this lady too?"

The joke, the light, flirtatious, diplomatic joke of a confident empress, was there. The smile, the warm, practiced smile, was on her face.

Then she saw.

Her daughter’s face.

The tear-stained, flushed, swollen-lipped, vacant-eyed face of a woman who had been fucked was there. The cum, the trace of cum on her lips, was there. The trembling, the visible, physical trembling of her daughter’s body, was there.

The smile, on the empress’s face, faded.

"What happened to you?" the empress said. Her voice, the melodic voice, was sharp. Concerned. She grabbed her daughter. Her hands, on Yuexin’s shoulders, held. "What... what have you done, Emperor?"

Tianlong, his gold-crimson eyes, calm, on the empress, was there. His voice, when it came, was soft. Conversational.

"You already see," he said. "She told me how she wanted to marry a general. A commoner from this kingdom. So I said the Emperor would kill him."

The words, the casual, devastating, world-ending words, were there. The revelation, the bomb, the absolute, political, social, devastating bomb, was dropped. The princess, her dark eyes, the widening, the horror, was there.

’He knows. He knows about Brother Mu. He knows everything.’

The empress, her melodic voice, the shock, was there. "What?"

The words, the confirmation that her daughter had been meeting someone, a commoner, a man, for years — the thing she had suspected, the thing she had feared, the thing that could destroy her daughter’s future — was confirmed. By the enemy. By the man who had just fucked her daughter on the balcony of the imperial palace.

She was stiff. Her body, the mature, full frame, was rigid. She turned. Toward her husband. Emperor Yun, his kind face, his eyes narrowed, was there. The narrowing, the sharp, political, dangerous narrowing of a father who had just heard that his daughter was involved with a commoner, was there.

He had heard. Everything. The emperor, his cultivation, his Transcendent realm perception, could hear. Had heard.

The empress, her face, the horror, was there. She looked at Tianlong. Her hands, clasped, were there.

"Please forgive my daughter," she said. Her voice was desperate. The words, the begging, the empress-begging words, were there. "She didn’t mean to. She didn’t... please."

The implications, the political, social, devastating implications of a princess loving a commoner, were there. The punishment, the formal, imperial, dynasty-preserving punishment for a royal caught fraternizing with a commoner — execution, exile, disownment — was there. The empress, a mother, knew. Her daughter, her prodigy daughter, her late-stage Soul Formation prodigy, would be destroyed.

Tianlong, his gold-crimson eyes, the soft glare, was there. He turned.

"I cannot help you, Queen," he said. His voice was calm. The refusal, the polite, diplomatic, absolute refusal, was there. "Because I do not think I am going to get any favor from here."

The words, the implication, the transaction, the political, transactional implication, was there. The empress, her melodic voice, the desperation, was there. She grabbed his hand. Her hand, the soft, mature hand, on his, was there.

"Please," she said. Her voice was breaking. "I would do anything. Please help my daughter. If His Majesty were to know..."

She looked at her husband. Emperor Yun, his eyes, the blank, deliberately blank expression, was there. The deliberate, political, calculated non-reaction of a man who was choosing not to acknowledge what he had heard, was there.

Tianlong, his voice, was there. "I’ve blocked his hearing. So he cannot hear what you are talking here. So you don’t have to worry about your daughter."

The revelation, the impossible, divine, transcendent revelation that he had the power to block a Transcendent realm emperor’s perception, was there. The empress, her face, the shock, was there.

"What? Really?" she whispered. Her voice was incredulous.

Tianlong, his gold-crimson eyes, on her, held the calm. "But I cannot promise you if the king asked."

The words, the caveat, the warning, the "I can hide it now but not forever" caveat, were there. The empress, her mature face, the desperation, was there.

"Please. King. Emperor Tianlong, help my daughter," she said. Her voice was the voice of a mother. A desperate, begging, willing-to-do-anything mother.

Tianlong, his gold-crimson eyes, on the empress, swept her body. The mature frame. The full boobs. The thick hips. The emerald robes. The body of a woman who had borne children and ruled a province and maintained her beauty. The assessment, the brief, evaluative, predatory assessment, was there.

"I hope," he said. His voice was soft. The words, the careful, measured, suggestive words, were there. "Your words also carry the sincerity you want to show about how much you want to help your daughter."

The implication, the transparent, absolute, unmistakable implication, was there. The empress, her melodic voice, the confusion, was there. She did not understand. She blinked. Blankly looked.

The princess, her dark eyes, the widening, the horror, was there.

"Stop," the princess said. Her voice was broken. The word, the desperate, weak, broken word, was there. "You... bas... don’t. Don’t look at my mother."

The queen, the empress, the mother, heard her daughter’s words. The realization, the slow, dawning, horrible realization of what Tianlong was asking, hit. Her face, the mature, composed face, drained. The color, the remaining color, left.

He was asking for her body.

She looked down. Her hands, her trembling hands, were there. Her lips, bitten, were there. The blood, the small drop from her bitten lip, was there.

"I... I cannot do that, Emperor," she whispered. Her voice was shaking. The refusal, the whispered, trembling refusal of a woman whose world was ending, was there.

Tianlong, his gold-crimson eyes, held the calm. He turned. And left. Walking. Back to the banquet. Back to the food, the wine, the dancers. As if nothing had happened.

Emperor Yun, his kind face, the polite smile, was there. "What happened? What were they talking about?"

Tianlong, taking his seat, his dark robe, his gold-crimson eyes, was there. "Nah. Your wife and daughter are very funny people."

He took a seat. Picked up his chopsticks. Ate. As if the last thirty minutes — the balcony, the stripping, the fucking, the filling, the cum, the manipulation — had not happened.

On the balcony, the princess, her body trembling, her pussy holding his cum, her robe concealing everything, looked at her mother. The empress, her mature face, the shock, the trembling, was there.

The daughter, her dark eyes, the broken, hollow, defeated eyes, was there.

"It’s fine," the princess whispered. Her voice was empty. "Have it. Do something."

The words, the whispered, broken, sacrificial words of a daughter telling her mother to do what the Emperor wanted, were there. The sacrifice, the second sacrifice — the first had been her body, the second was her mother’s — was there.

The empress, her melodic voice, was silent. Her eyes, on the valley, on the sky, on the stars, were there. Her internal thoughts, the racing, desperate, calculating, determined thoughts, were there.

’I have to solve everything for my foolish daughter.’