Dual Cultivation: Gathering SSS-Rank Wives in the Cultivation World-Chapter 361- Yuna’s Subconscious

The darkness swallowed everything.

Tianlong’s consciousness plunged deep, diving through layers of burning crimson that felt like molten metal scraping against his soul.

Yuna’s subconscious was a labyrinth—a chaotic mess of fragmented memories bleeding into twisted fantasies, all soaked in the overwhelming Yang Qi he’d pumped into her womb for twelve straight hours.

’This is bad,’ he thought, eyes narrowing as he felt the heat intensify. ’Her bloodline is tearing itself apart trying to evolve.’

But before he could push deeper, the world around him shifted.

Suddenly, he wasn’t diving anymore.

He was standing.

Standing in a garden.

The scent hit him first—cherry blossoms mixed with freshly cut grass. Tianlong blinked, looking around at the meticulously maintained estate garden surrounding him. Stone pathways wound between flowering bushes, leading toward a massive manor house in the distance.

"Where...?"

He looked down at his hands. Translucent. Ghostly. He was a spectator here, watching through Yuna’s memories like viewing a play through frosted glass.

Movement caught his eye.

A woman with crimson red hair walked along the garden path, her cat ears twitching as she hummed softly.

She couldn’t have been more than 21, her latex combat suit tightly sticking to her body, leaving her tail and body in a sway.

’Yuna,’ Tianlong realized.

Beside her walked a man. Tall, broad-shouldered, with the same red hair and cat features. Her father. They walked in silence until the man suddenly stopped, placing a hand on Yuna’s shoulder.

"Can you go for a moment?" His voice was smooth, practiced. "I need to meet Verisa."

Yuna blinked, tilting her head. "Verisa? But Father, wasn’t she—"

"Just go," he interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Yuna nodded slowly, confusion flickering across her innocent face as she turned and continued down the path alone.

Tianlong watched the father’s expression shift the moment his daughter’s back was turned. The warm smile vanished, replaced by something hungry. Predatory.

The man’s gaze drifted toward a side corridor where a maid stood waiting—Young, curvy, with her uniform deliberately unbuttoned at the chest. She chuckled softly, twirling a strand of hair around her finger as Yuna’s father approached.

Yuna had stopped walking.

She stood frozen on the path, her small hands clenched into fists. Slowly, she turned her head, those ruby eyes narrowing as she watched her father disappear around the corner with the maid.

Even from this distance, Tianlong could see it—the way the man’s hand slid down to grip the maid’s ass, the way she pressed against him, the way they moved together toward the servants’ quarters like they’d done this a hundred times before.

Yuna’s expression didn’t change. She simply blinked once, twice, then turned back and continued walking.

But Tianlong saw it. The way her shoulders tensed. The way her tail curled tight against her leg.

’Tch,’ he thought seeing usual noble stuff. ’What with beauty standards?’

The scene blurred.

Colors bled together like wet paint, and suddenly Tianlong was standing inside the manor. A grand hallway stretched before him, portraits of stern-faced ancestors lining the walls.

A butler appeared—elderly, with grey whiskers and a formal suit. He bowed stiffly toward Yuna.

"Miss Yuna, your mother requests your presence in the study."

Yuna nodded silently and followed.

The study was elegant—dark wood furniture, shelves lined with ancient tomes, a massive desk where a woman sat reviewing documents.

Mamoon.

But er. Her red latex suit replaced by formal robes, her expression colder, more distant than the fierce warrior Tianlong had met on the battlefield.

"Mother," Yuna said softly, stepping inside.

Mamoon didn’t look up from her paperwork. "You’re leaving for the academy tomorrow."

Silence.

Yuna’s cat ears flattened slightly. "Tomorrow? But I thought—"

"The arrangements have been made." Mamoon’s voice was clipped, efficient. "You will attend Thornwood Academy. You will train. You will become strong."

"Mother, I don’t want to leave yet. I—"

"This is not a discussion."

Yuna’s hands trembled at her sides. Her voice came out smaller, desperate. "But what about you? What about Father? I can help here, I can—"

"You are not strong enough." Mamoon finally looked up, her amber eyes cold and unyielding. "You will go to the academy. You will not return until you have proven yourself capable."

Tears pricked at the corners of Yuna’s eyes. Her jaw clenched as she fought to keep her voice steady. "Mother... you know, don’t you?"

Mamoon’s pen paused mid-stroke.

"Father," Yuna continued, her voice cracking. "Father is having an affair. Multiple affairs. You know what he’s doing, don’t you?"

The silence stretched between them like a chasm.

Finally, Mamoon set down her pen. Her expression remained utterly neutral as she stood, gathering her documents. "It doesn’t matter."

Yuna’s eyes widened. "What?"

"Let him do whatever he wants." Mamoon walked past her daughter toward the door, not even glancing back. "I’m busy."

And she left.

Just like that.

Yuna stood alone in the empty study, tears finally spilling down her cheeks as her entire world cracked apart.

TILLLLTTTTT.

The world lurched violently.

Tianlong felt the sensation of falling sideways even though gravity didn’t change. The study dissolved, colors swirling together in a nauseating spiral before reforming into—

The academy.

Thornwood Academy.

Yuna sat on a stone bench in the courtyard, older now—sixteen, maybe seventeen. Her latex combat suit hugged her developing curves, her crimson hair tied back in a practical ponytail. Books lay open on her lap, but her eyes weren’t focused on the pages.

They were focused on him.

A blonde-haired boy walked across the courtyard, his stride confident, his smile easy. Aelric.

Yuna watched him with an expression Tianlong couldn’t quite read. Not attraction—not exactly. More like... observation. Curiosity.

Aelric laughed at something another student said, and for a moment, Yuna’s lips curved into the faintest smile.

’He appeared different,’ Tianlong heard her thoughts echo through the memory. ’More bold and strangely nice to others.’

But then—

TILLLLTTTT.

The world wrenched again.

Suddenly Yuna was standing in the training arena, surrounded by stone barriers and watching students. The professor stood before her—no, not ’the’ professor.

’Me,’ Tianlong realized with a jolt.

He was looking at himself through Yuna’s eyes. His black robe billowing slightly, his crimson-gold eyes locked onto her with that predatory intensity that made her heart race.

"Professor," Yuna’s voice trembled.

In the memory, Tianlong’s expression shifted. That warm, reassuring teacher facade melted away, replaced by something raw and hungry.

He moved.

Fast.

Too fast for her to react.

His hand shot out, fingers wrapping around her thigh and ’lifting’. Yuna gasped as he hoisted her leg up, her body tilting off-balance as he stepped between her spread thighs.

"Wha—Professor, what are you—"

RIIIPPPP.

His fingers tore through the reinforced latex at her crotch like it was tissue paper. The material shredded, exposing her bare pussy to the open air of the arena.

All the students were watching.

Every single one of them—standing at the arena’s edge, their eyes wide, their expressions a mix of shock and arousal as Professor Tianlong violated their class leader in front of everyone.

"No—stop—" Yuna’s hands scrambled for purchase, trying to push him away, but he grabbed her wrists and slammed them down against the arena floor.

She was bent over now, ass raised, hands pinned, her torn suit barely clinging to her body.

And then—

SCHLLLLUUUUPPPP.

He entered her.

All at once.

Nine inches of thick, veiny cock plunging into her virgin pussy without warning, without preparation, splitting her open and ’bulging’ her belly outward from the sheer size.

"NYYYAAAAAAHHHHHHH!"