Reverend Obscenity-Chapter 15: Creed of Pleasure

Dawn broke over the Nether Blossom Sect, its pavilions glowing under golden light, the air thick with yin energy and lotus incense.

Lin Fengyang stirred in his chambers, Meiyin's crimson-robed figure slipping out for sect duties, leaving him alone on the mat.

The door creaked, and Lian Xue glided in, her chestnut hair catching the morning glow, eyes alight with craving.

She purred, hips swaying as she approached, intent on sating her lust and slowing his cultivation.

"Young Master Fengyang," she purred, her voice dripping with invitation, "why not take a moment to rest? There's no need to rush today. I'm sure a little distraction wouldn't harm your cultivation."

Fengyang's lips twitched, irritation flaring. "I don't have time for this today, Xue. I intend to stroll around the sect alone."

Her smile tightened but didn't falter. "It is not wise for Young Master to wander alone. What if something were to happen?" she pressed, her voice smooth as silk, "Let this servant accompany you, that I might ease your worries."

"I appreciate your concern, Xue, but it is truly needless. I am more than capable of handling a simple stroll myself," Fengyang said, voice firm.

She pressed closer, her breath warm. "It is not your abilities I doubt, Young Master, but the hearts of others. Many in the sect harbor ill will toward you."

He chuckled, eyes glinting. "They can only harbor them at best, never act. Besides, if I take another beauty like you, won't I draw even more envy? Not that I mind, of course. It's just that today, I seek a breath of fresh air."

Lian Xue blushed at "beauty," her heart fluttering, but her inner voice snapped, Wake up, Xuer! Don't let this devil's voice bewitch you!

Despite being a Foundation Establishment cultivator, she couldn't shake the unease this Qi Condensation 'ant' stirred within her with his sharpness.

Her thoughts drifted briefly to the conversation she'd had yesterday with Young Master Gu.

She had dutifully reported the news of Fengyang's breakthrough, but Gu Xingchen's response had been more indifferent than usual.

He had said, in a manner that was neither impolite nor dismissive, that she should no longer report unless something truly significant occurred.

His irritation was clear—lately, his focus was solely on the secret realm and securing as many benefits as possible from its exploration.

The young master had grown tired of the constant thwarting of his schemes.

It seemed futile to keep plotting when every move was easily countered.

She could sense his frustration, a frustration that had turned his attention inward, focused on his own path to power.

He had made it clear: the best way to crush a schemer was with absolute strength, and if Fengyang ever reneged on his promise to offer Meiyin, Gu Xingchen would be the one to deliver that crushing blow.

When Fengyang strode out, she still stood dazed, disbelief gnawing. How can he refuse me? Isn't it normal for a man to indulge a craving woman? Is he even a man?

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm glow on the stone paths he traversed, but his thoughts were far from peaceful.

As Fengyang strolled through the winding paths of the inner sect, the vastness of the Nether Blossom Sect stretched before him.

The towering peaks loomed in the distance, their jagged silhouettes etched against the sky, and the intricate pathways felt like veins running through the heart of the sect.

To some, this place was a sanctuary, but to Fengyang, it was often a cage—a place where the boundaries were drawn long ago, and his future remained uncertain.

His destination was Lianxing City. He had heard rumors of the bustling market and the opportunities it offered, and the thought of understanding how the sect functioned beyond the confines of his sheltered life urged him forward.

Earlier, in the morning he had elaborated his next course of actions.

If he wished to advance swiftly along the path of cultivation, Lin Fengyang knew he could not rely solely on borrowed strength.

For now, resources were not yet a pressing concern—his foundation as a cultivator remained shallow, and most of his efforts were spent honing the basics.

However, once he mastered the core martial techniques, his hunger for spirit stones, pills, and rare materials would grow insatiable.

Though he could draw upon Su Meiyin's resources for a time, the Sect Master's discerning gaze might soon fall upon him, and to live as a mere idle husband, clinging to his wife's coattails, was something Fengyang could not accept.

To acquire the resources necessary for his future cultivation, Fengyang knew that his next step was to officially become a disciple.

Though he had spent years within the sect, his understanding of its inner workings remained minimal.

After his marriage to Su Meiyin, his life had been largely confined to the manor, with only occasional strolls around the sect under her watchful eye.

As a result, the broader structure of the sect—its hierarchy, its resource distribution, its politics—remained an enigma to him.

Now that his cultivation had advanced to the 5th Stage of Qi Condensation, the time had come for him to step beyond the sheltered life he had led.

He needed to understand the sect's structure, its hierarchies, and its inner circles.

Only then could he begin to carve a place for himself, secure his future, and acquire the resources essential for his advancement.

The sect's vast expanse was no longer just a prison; it was the terrain upon which he would stake his claim.

Fengyang wandered into Lianxing City, the sect's bustling trade hub, where brothels whispered secrets and alchemy pavilions gleamed with elixirs and pills.

Male disciples glowered, their envy palpable.

"Leech," one muttered under his breath.

Another spat on the ground near him, sneering, "Meiyin's pet struts like he owns the place."

Female disciples clustered nearby, their coquettish smiles veiling predatory intent.

Some bit their lips, eyes trailing Fengyang, envisioning his Yang essence baptizing their nether cave walls.

Others bared their cleavage boldly, issuing silent challenges, while a few purred shamelessly, "Come to my bed, Fengyang—let's cultivate together," their voices thick with barely concealed lust.

In the world of the Nether Blossom Sect, it was an iron law that no one fought over concubines or cauldrons.

A cauldron was a prize to be claimed, a tool to be used—and if a master lost control of it, the fault lay not with the one who seized it, but with the master who failed to hold it.

Should a cauldron stray or please another, punishment would first fall upon the cauldron, not the rival who dared to take it.

Only if the thief's actions directly harmed the master's interests would retribution be justified.

Such was the cold logic of the demonic path, where power was absolute, where loyalty was measured only in usefulness, and where every act of possession or betrayal served ambition alone.

Thus, in Nether Blossom Sect, pleasure and power walked hand in hand.

The rules of the sect played out not only in cultivation halls but in every glance, every touch, every whispered promise.

Lin Fengyang was a cauldron—a pawn in the endless games of lust and domination.

And those who coveted him knew: only the strong could claim him.

The commotion abruptly ground to a halt as Nie Mingzhu arrived, her presence descending like a dark storm.

At 180 centimeters tall, her ebony skin seemed to glow under the city's muted light, commanding attention without a word.

Nie Mingzhu's attire was a masterwork of dark sensuality and regal menace.

She wore a tight-fitting, silvery gray leather-like garment that wrapped around her neck and shoulders before plunging downward in a deep, open cut across her chest, exposing the generous swell of her breasts.

The glossy, silvery gray material clung to her torso like a second skin, following the curves of her body without a single wrinkle or flaw.

Intricate patterns of golden embroidery traced along the edges of the fabric, framing her exposed skin like molten veins of power.

The garment split daringly at her upper thighs, parting open to reveal the smooth planes of her long legs and offer teasing glimpses of fine black lace lingerie beneath, along with the luscious curve of her ass.

A thin, ornate gold chain studded with small blood-red gemstones wrapped around her slim waist, glinting in the dramatic lighting and drawing attention to the exquisite curve of her hips.

Over this seductive foundation, she wore a long, flowing silvery gray cloak, crafted from a heavier, matte fabric.

The cloak draped over her shoulders and trailed behind her like a shadow, its broad cuffs embroidered with golden sigils and crimson threadwork.

It hung open at the front, framing her lithe, dangerous figure rather than concealing it, allowing her dark power and potent sensuality to shine unhindered.

Her voluminous silvery gray hair cascaded past her waist, wild and untamed, while crimson eyes blazed with predatory allure.

Glossy black lipstick sealed her cruel, inviting smirk, completing the gothic menace that seemed to silence the world around her.

Disciples straightened and silenced themselves instantly, cowed by the authority she carried.

As Grand Elder Leng Ruxue's disciple, a 9th Stage Foundation Establishment cultivator, Mingzhu's strength and cunning positioned her as a future Grand Elder, rivaling Meiyin's sect leader path.

Her reputation—stealth, assassination, and ruthless seduction—bound the crowd tighter than any sect law could.

The demonic dao's truth hung heavy over the Nether Blossom Sect: Lin Fengyang was a cauldron, a tool for power and pleasure, not a husband nor a lover.

If Su Meiyin could not hold him, her weakness would cede him to the strong, as the ruthless laws of the sect demanded.

While disciples sneered and plotted, none realized that Fengyang was no longer mortal.

Mingzhu's crimson gaze fixed on him, noting his 5th Stage Qi Condensation—a surprising leap from his mortal days, a sign of his rising worth.

So, Meiyin's finally teaching him, keeping her toy alive, Mingzhu mused, a rare flicker of praise crossing her heart.

For too long, she had scorned Meiyin's foolishness, watching her squander the cauldron's vitality through the Pure Yang Devouring Art, draining him to fuel her own cultivation—a short-sighted waste that Mingzhu could never understand.

Pleasure, in Mingzhu's creed, was something to be hoarded, savored endlessly, not discarded at the height of its ripeness.

She believed Meiyin should have bound Fengyang to her bed, claimed him fully, and used his "little brother" to indulge her every whim, rather than sap his vigor dry.

Now, it seemed, Meiyin had awakened to that truth at last: a man like Fengyang, brimming with rare yang essence, was a treasure to be cherished, not a flame to be extinguished.

Unlike Meiyin, who once treated him as disposable, Mingzhu knew the art of enjoyment—to turn such a man into a constant, living wellspring of pleasure, not a lifeless husk.

In her eyes, Meiyin's early negligence had been a foolish squandering of a rare prize.

As for Mingzhu herself, her hedonistic pursuit of pleasure often overshadowed her cultivation—a flaw Grand Elder Leng Ruxue was forced to endure, unable to discard a talent nearly rivaling Meiyin's.

Though indulgence slowed her advancement compared to her rival, Mingzhu's cunning and predatory instincts remained unmatched.

Long had she coveted Fengyang, drawn not only by his extraordinary yang potency but by raw, unrelenting carnal hunger.

Whispers of his prowess—of how his "little brother" satisfied Meiyin through entire nights without faltering—haunted her, fueling shameless fantasies of what she could make of such a perfect, throbbing tool.

The thought of him drained to death, wasted without ever serving her, gnawed at her heart—a pity, for a man who could have entertained her for years had he been kept alive.

In the past, Mingzhu had spun careful webs of seduction, subtle and strategic, only to be thwarted time and again by Meiyin's vigilance.

Fengyang, oblivious to the silent war waged over him.

Now, with Meiyin distracted by sect affairs, a rare window had opened—an opportunity born of both lust and strategic rivalry.

Her stealth and ruthlessness, honed through the cold slaughter of righteous cultivators, made her the perfect predator for this moment.

Fengyang's lone stroll through Lianxing City was no coincidence in her eyes—it was a gift from the heavens themselves.

Unlike the other female disciples, lost in envy and shameless taunts, Mingzhu saw only opportunity.

He's alone—my best chance before Meiyin intervenes.

Her prideful heart burned at the thought of stealing what her rival hoarded, the idea stirring a dangerous hunger in her blood.

She would seize him, even if only for a fleeting moment, before Meiyin's vigilance returned to ruin it all.

Mingzhu glided to Fengyang's side, her cloak trailing behind like a shadow, a haunting presence in the busy street.

Her voice was soft, almost teasing, as she spoke with the playful innocence of a curious maiden. "A rare sight, Fengyang, strolling alone. What brings you to Lianxing City?"

Fengyang's gaze flicked over her figure, wariness flickering in his eyes, though intrigue quickly followed. "Just exploring, Senior Mingzhu. I hear the outer sect selection is happening soon—any details?"

Her laugh rippled through the air, a sultry sound that seemed to dance around him. "Four months from now—just another boring procedure with the same old lame trials. Thinking of joining as a disciple?"

Fengyang smirked, eyes glinting with mischief. "Maybe I'll surprise you. What's the selection like?"

She chuckled, drawing him further into the conversation. "Surprise me, huh? How interesting."

Then Mingzhu's lips curved, explaining as they walked. "Trials test qi control, combat, and cunning."

As they walked, the usual hustle of the marketplace surrounded them, the air filled with the scent of fresh bread, the clatter of coins, and the occasional call from a vendor.

The city felt alive, and yet, the longer they walked, the more Fengyang noticed something wasn't quite right.

It started subtly. The chatter of the crowd, the hum of the street, the clink of coins—everything seemed to shift ever so slightly.

Not immediately noticeable, but there.

A heaviness in the air, a faint feeling of distortion that he couldn't quite place.

He shook it off at first, focusing on Mingzhu as they continued deeper into the marketplace.

But as they walked further, the sense of change became impossible to ignore. The bustling energy of the street, once all-encompassing, began to dull.

The voices of the vendors grew fainter, the raucous laughter of children growing more distant.

Fengyang glanced around, brow furrowing.

The crowd around him, once thick and pressing, seemed to dissipate.

At first, it was subtle—the edges of the city's chaos blurring at the edges of his vision—but soon, he realized the noise had stopped completely.

He stopped in his tracks, confusion rising. "Mingzhu?" He turned to her, but she was still walking ahead, a quiet smile playing on her lips.

"Mingzhu, what's—?" he started, but she didn't respond, continuing to move ahead as if nothing had changed.

The bustling city around him had transformed.

The vibrant chaos he had known just moments ago had completely vanished, leaving only an unnerving stillness.

The illusion had begun to shatter rapidly.

The faintest shift of reality broke through, and suddenly, the world around him blurred.

The bustling streets, the sounds, the people—they were all gone.

The very air felt different.

What had once been the open marketplace now felt like the narrow confines of an alleyway.

His breath hitched as the last remnants of the city's noise faded away entirely.

There was no crowd, no merchants, no laughter, only the press of the walls around him as he realized with dawning horror that he was no longer where he had been.

Huo Yan's mist stirred from within the jade ring on Fengyang's finger, a low chuckle rising within him.

The spirit remained silent but amused, a silent spectator to the unfolding drama. This ebony vixen might give us a good show, Huo Yan mused, a thread of curiosity winding through his thoughts.

Fengyang blinked, still trying to process the shift.

He turned around, expecting to see the busy street behind him, but all he saw was the narrow, dark alley stretching out before him.

The world had twisted in the blink of an eye.

His heart raced. "What is this?" he muttered to himself, eyes darting around.

The familiar sounds of Lianxing City—the laughter, the chatter, the bustling—were replaced with an eerie, almost suffocating silence.

His pulse quickened, adrenaline flooding his system.

He was no longer in the city he knew. This was something else entirely.

Mingzhu's footsteps slowed, and she turned to face him, her smile still present, but her gaze now predatory, calculating.

"Did you enjoy the stroll, Fengyang?" she asked softly, her voice no longer casual, but thick with intent.

Fengyang stood frozen, his mind racing as he realized the trap had already closed around him.

There was no going back now. The only way forward was through her game.

Mingzhu took a step forward, her presence pressing down on him like an irresistible force.

Before he could react, she pushed him against the cold stone wall of the alley.

Her lips descended onto his with a fierceness that stole his breath, claiming him in a kiss as fiery as her eyes.

Fengyang, to his surprise, kissed back with equal heat, his hands instinctively grasping her plump ass, squeezing the firm curves beneath her tight leather garment.

The heat of the moment swirled around them, his pulse thrumming in his veins.

Mingzhu withdrew with a teasing chuckle, her cloak swirling as she stepped back, her eyes glinting with a dark amusement. "I didn't think you'd yield so eagerly. Guess you've practiced a lot with Meiyin."

"Nothing hides from you, does it?" Fengyang grinned, his heart racing in his chest, the thrill of the situation sharpening his senses.

Her eyes narrowed, the playful smirk still lingering on her lips. "Still, you're bold to grab my ass without permission."

Fengyang's grin widened, his voice thick with defiance. "Do you think you've the liberty to keep my hands off when you kiss like that?"

Mingzhu's laughter was rich and full, her breasts heaving with each breath.

"Cheeky man. You've got fire," she purred, her tone both teasing and approving.

Her hand lowered, fingers tracing down his chest, then boldly cupping the bulge in his pants, feeling his cock swell beneath the fabric.

A low groan escaped Fengyang's throat, his pulse quickening, and Mingzhu's lips curled, relishing her control, the whispers of his "little brother" proving true as it throbbed under her touch.

"My, my, Fengyang," she purred, her voice a soft, dangerous whisper. "What a... delightful surprise you're hiding."

Her fingers kneaded his hardening length, her leather-clad breasts grazing his chest, the air thick with her intoxicating aura.

Fengyang's breath hitched, his 5th Stage qi pulsing erratically, but he held her gaze, voice low. "You're playing a dangerous game, Mingzhu."

She chuckled, a low, throaty sound, her crimson eyes narrowing with predatory delight. "Danger's my favorite game, darling Fengyang. And you're too tempting to resist."

Her hand tightened, stroking through the fabric, drawing another groan, her control absolute.

"You've heard the whispers, haven't you?" she teased, her glossy lips curving, her cloak swaying as she leaned in, breath hot against his ear. "They say you keep Meiyin sated all night. I wonder... can you satisfy me?"

Fengyang swallowed, his hands twitching but staying at his sides, her dominance overwhelming.

"I'm no stranger to pleasing a woman, Mingzhu," he said, voice steady but softer, yielding to her lead. "But you're not Meiyin."

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Her smile deepened, eyes gleaming with unrestrained hunger. "No," she whispered, "I'm Mingzhu. And I take what I want."

Her fingers deftly loosened the ties of Fengyang's pants, her crimson eyes locked on his, blazing with predatory hunger.

Each slender digit moved with deliberate grace, tugging the silk cord looped through the waistband, the knot unraveling slowly under her touch.

The fabric slackened, the cloth of his pants sagging slightly, revealing a glimpse of his toned lower abdomen.

Mingzhu's glossy black lips curved into a triumphant smirk.

She pulled the cord fully free, the ties slipping through the eyelets with a soft whisper, her fingers brushing the coarse weave of his pants.

The waistband parted, sliding an inch down his hips, exposing the taut V of his pelvis, her leather-clad breasts heaving as she savored his quickening breath.

"Such a treat you are, sweet Fengyang," she purred, her voice a sultry melody, her voluminous silvery gray waves swaying as she sank to her knees with regal menace.

Her hands gripped the loosened pants, thumbs hooking the waistband, and she tugged them down slowly, the fabric dragging over his thighs, catching briefly on the bulge of his hardening cock.

The pants pooled at his ankles, his thick length springing free, throbbing and glistening with a bead of precum, framed by the coarse hair at its base.

Mingzhu's crimson eyes widened, a hungry spark flaring as she licked her glossy lips.

Her fingers encircled his shaft, her ebony skin stark against his flesh, stroking with a featherlight touch, feeling the pulsing heat and girth.

She leaned closer, her warm breath teasing his tip, inhaling his musky scent, a low hum of approval escaping her throat.

Her tongue flicked out, slow and deliberate, lapping the salty precum from his slit, the taste sparking a wicked glint in her eyes.

She swirled her tongue around the swollen head, tracing the sensitive ridge, her lips grazing the velvety skin as Fengyang groaned, his hands clenching at his sides.

Her mouth parted wider, enveloping the tip, her glossy lips sealing around him, the wet heat of her tongue curling under his shaft as she sucked gently, drawing a shudder from his core.

Mingzhu's head tilte as she took him deeper, her lips sliding halfway down his length.

Her tongue pressed flat, lapping the underside, while her cheeks hollowed, creating a tight suction that made his cock twitch.

She hummed, the vibration rippling through him, her crimson eyes flicking up to meet his, commanding his surrender.

Her pace quickened, her mouth a relentless furnace, lips gliding slickly, saliva coating his shaft as she sucked harder, her nails digging into his thighs.

She angled her head, taking him to the hilt, her throat constricting around his tip, a muffled moan escaping as she savored his pulsing heat.

Fengyang's breaths grew ragged, his qi surging erratically, hips twitching involuntarily as her tongue danced, teasing every inch, her voluptuous curves swaying.

Her hands slid to his base, one stroking in sync with her mouth, the other cupping his balls, rolling them gently, her touch both tender and commanding.

The alley's cool air contrasted the searing heat of her mouth, her smoky makeup smudging slightly from the effort, her crimson eyes burning with triumph.

She sensed his edge, sucking fiercely, her throat swallowing him whole, urging him to break under her control.

Fengyang's groan deepened, his cock pulsing as he came, thick, hot spurts flooding her mouth, the musky essence coating her tongue.

Mingzhu drank greedily, her lips milking every drop, the delicious taste sparking a sultry moan as she pulled back, licking her glossy lips clean, a stray bead glistening at the corner.

"You taste good, Fengyang. To think you fed this to Meiyin every night makes me jealous," she purred, rising with a sway of her cloak, her ebony skin radiant, her dominance absolute as she stood, a goddess of dark desire.

Mingzhu leaned in again, her breath hot against his ear. "This alley's no place for bliss, is it?"

Fengyang's fingers moved to his pants, dragging them up with slow deliberation, never taking his eyes off her. "Not unless you want half the sect watching."

She chuckled low in her throat, a sound rich with promise. "Then come with me."

Without waiting for his answer, she turned, her silhouette melting into the morning crowd, moving with the careless grace of a predator sure of her prey.

Fengyang hesitated for only a heartbeat, tightening the cord at his waist, then followed, slipping into the flow of bodies.

Beyond the lively trade streets of Lianxing City, the path veered inward, toward the fortified gates that led to the inner sect — where only the elite resided.

And somewhere beyond those high walls, behind heavy doors and silken screens... Mingzhu's manor awaited.