Ultimate Villain's Return as a Doctor in the Cultivation World-Chapter 110- Shock of Women’s body

The merchant made a sound. It was short. Controlled. It was also the sound of a man’s chest wall being removed.

The son came to his feet.

The aura pressed him back before he covered a single step—not forcefully, not with the theatrical violence of a technique deployed in battle, simply with the implacable tonnage of a power difference that did not need to exert itself to be absolute. The young man’s legs locked mid-step. His cultivation strained in all directions and found nothing to purchase. He stood, half-risen, unable to take a step forward, unable to retreat, trapped in the cruelest geometry of helplessness—close enough to reach out and touch, too far to accomplish anything by it.

"Let—" His voice cracked. He recovered it. "Let them go." The next words cost him something visible. "Please. The—the bride is young. She has nothing to do with—"

"She has everything to do with it," Cang said pleasantly. "She was already mine before the wedding ceremony. The ceremony simply made it legible."

"Then—" The son’s jaw worked. His eyes moved to his mother, who was staring at the floor now, thick shoulders curved inward, the silk of her dress catching the morning light. The tears on her face had dried. She had not wiped them away. She seemed to have stopped registering the room.

Something in the young man’s face changed.

"My mother," he said, quietly. "Leave my mother. She—she’s a wife. She belongs to this household. Whatever you want with the bride, with the compound, with—just leave my mother."

Cang’s expression did not shift. His dark eyes settled on the young man with the mild attentiveness of a physician examining a symptom.

"Your mother," he said, "is going to give me a son."

The room held the words for a full breath.

The merchant’s son’s mouth opened. No sound came out immediately. When it did, it was low and unsteady and stripped of the careful control he’d been maintaining since he walked into the room. "You—what did you just—"

"You wanted a brother," Cang said, tilting his head. "I’m being generous."

"That’s—" The young man’s voice fractured. "That’s obscene. That’s—you’re talking about my mother—"

"Yes." Cang looked at Meiling. "She’s remarkable. Fourteen years of a marriage that clearly gave her nothing. She deserves better seed."

The merchant still had not spoken. His face was the color and texture of old clay.

On the floor, Meiling had gone motionless in a way that was different from stillness. Her hands had pressed flat against her thighs. Her chin had dipped. From her position on the ground, she could see nothing in the room except the weave of the carpet and the hem of her silk dress and the edge of the sofa three feet in front of her, and whatever was happening on her face—the slow, terrible, complicated thing—was hidden by the curtain of her hair.

Xiao Hua had her hand pressed against her mouth.

Cang leaned forward slightly. Not toward the men. Toward the women.

His hands moved—one finding the neckline of Meiling’s silk, sliding inward, his forefinger and thumb closing with practiced ease over what was still over-sensitized and ready to respond. His other hand found the lacing of Xiao Hua’s bridal dress at the front, pulled loose one knot, reached inside.

"—No—" Xiao Hua caught her own voice before it finished the word. It came out as a strangled nothing. Her small hands came up to grip his forearm—not pulling, not strong enough for that, just gripping—and her head dropped forward.

"Mmm—Ahn~—Nnh~—"

Meiling’s back arched. She tried to control it. The deep, automatic clench of her thick frame fought itself for two full seconds and then surrendered with a sound that had no word—a low, broken exhalation that came from the chest rather than the throat, all the dignity she’d been hoarding for an hour escaping in a single breath.

"Hngh~—not—please—not here—Nnh~—your hands—Ahn~—"

Her head fell. Her neck bent forward. Her thick hair escaped its pin and fell around her face, and from beneath it came sounds that were not speech—soft, rhythmic, mortifyingly genuine, the sounds of a body being played by someone who had spent the entire previous night learning its instrument. 𝕗𝐫𝚎𝗲𝘄𝐞𝕓𝐧𝕠𝘃𝕖𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝚖

Xiao Hua’s hands on his forearm had gone from gripping to clutching. Her hips had shifted forward on their knees. Her small face was pressed against the side of his thigh and her breathing had gone shallow and fast and the sounds she was making into the fabric of his robe were tiny and continuous and helpless.

"—Mmm~—Nnh~—s-stop—I can’t—Ahn~—Ahn~—please—"

The son had covered his face with one hand. He was still on his feet, still half-risen, still held in place by the weight of the aura that didn’t need to try.

The merchant was looking at the far wall with the absolute, concentrated focus of a man who is staring at nothing because looking at something would be worse.

Cang rolled his fingers once. Then again. Then with patient, deliberate precision, he did something that made Meiling’s entire thick body seize—a sound tore from her that she had been hoarding and containing and spending eleven hours trying not to produce in front of anyone—raw and low and stunned and female—

"HNGH~—!"

Her hips rolled. Once. Involuntarily. Her heavy breasts swayed forward with the motion. Her head fell back, thick throat exposed, and the sound coming from her now was not contained at all, was not muffled at all, was small and continuous and devastating in the morning quiet of the room—

"—Ahn~—Ahn~—Ahn~—"

Xiao Hua followed thirty seconds later with a sound like a question being asked and immediately answered—

"Mmm~—! Ahn~—!"

—her small body curling forward, bridal dress pulling, red silk bunching as her hips twitched and her hands pressed his forearm to her chest and held it there the way a drowning person holds a rope.

Then both of them went quiet.

Slowly. Like a tide receding.

Meiling’s head dropped forward. Her hair fell in heavy curtains. Her breathing was ragged and ashamed and real.

Xiao Hua had pressed her face entirely against his leg and was not moving.

[Evil Points: +89]