Ultimate Villain's Return as a Doctor in the Cultivation World-Chapter 136- Very Patient Woman

Chen Yun’s hand pressed flat against her own sternum. The binding under her robes was—the cave air was—the ambient concentration was—

Her thighs shifted.

The pressure between them had been building since the outer cave and had moved, somewhere in the last twenty minutes, from manageable to not, and the wet fabric of her travel robes against her inner thighs was its own kind of specific information and she had been filing that information in a location she kept very locked and the lock was—

The lock was currently under considerable pressure.

’’’

PAAH PAAH PAAH PAAH.

"’Aahn~—! Aahn~—! Sir—’"

He had shifted her.

Not the lap position anymore—she was folded forward now, her hands finding something to hold, and what they found was the embedded sword—the shadow sword had been placed in the dais floor at its base, the hilt up, the familiar grip surface of it under her palms—her hands landed on the hilt and she held it, and the shadow sword’s formation energy recognized her contact and pulsed once, deep, the resonance moving through her hands and up her arms and through her cultivation sense like a voice in a frequency she understood.

She held it.

He held her.

His hands on her hips, controlling the pace, the flesh sound—

PAAH PAAH.

"’—AAHN~—! Ah~—!’"

He angled her.

The specific adjustment of a man who knows what he’s doing, tilting the position slightly, finding the angle that changed everything—her body’s interior, the precise location of maximum sensation—and she made a sound that had no relationship to any sound she had made before.

"’HAAAHN~—!!’"

Her hips pressed back, involuntary—the body overriding the person, the autonomous forward motion of something that had found what it was looking for and was not interested in negotiation—and his hands held her in place and worked her at the pace he was building, not faster because she wanted faster but faster because the accumulation of sensation was arriving at a destination and he could feel it in the way she gripped him, in the way the sounds were changing, losing their careful middle-register and climbing toward something—

PAAH PAAH PAAH.

"’Aah—ahn~—’"

He leaned over her back, his mouth at her shoulder, his hands sliding to cup both breasts from above—the full, heavy weight of them in his palms, both thumbs at both nipples simultaneously—

"’AAAHN~—!!’"

PAAH PAAH.

"’—Cang—I—I’m—’"

"Yes," he said.

"’—I’m going to—’"

"Yes," he said.

PAAH PAAH PAAH.

"’AAHN~—HAAHN~—AAAHN~—!!’"

The orgasm hit Wei Lingyue with the precision of a formation trap that had been building for two hours and deployed all at once—her whole body locking, the sound that came from her nothing like the princess of the Jade Meridian sect and everything like what she actually was at this moment, and the release that followed—

His cock withdrew.

The fluid that escaped her struck Chen Yun.

Specifically: the face and upper chest of Chen Yun, who had in the process of the last twenty minutes traveled from the far wall to approximately three feet from the dais without fully registering the transit, and who was now kneeling with the expression of someone who has just encountered a development that their operational plan did not include.

Warm. Clear. The unmistakable evidence of Wei Lingyue’s first orgasm, on Chen Yun’s jaw, her cheek, the top binding of her chest.

The silence was absolute for two full seconds.

Then Chen Yun said, in a voice that was the voice of someone who has been pushed past the last available response and has arrived at a pure, clarified state of fury: "You ’disgusting—’"

"Cultivation transfer," Cang said, with the clinical calm of a man finishing a procedure.

"That is—you did that ’deliberately—’"

"The qi density in female release is the highest concentration available outside formal pill refinement," he said. "Direct contact is the fastest transfer method." He reached into his spatial ring. "Along with these." 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

His hand opened.

Two objects fell from his palm—not thrown, simply released, the casual drop of a hand opening above the cave floor—and struck the stone and burst simultaneously.

The burst was not violent. It was—generative. The two objects were roughly finger-length, dark, resinous, the kind of compressed material that had been made from something old and concentrated and stored under formation pressure for a very long time. When they hit the stone and broke open, the material inside released.

The air in the cave changed.

It had been dense. It had been rich. But this was different—this was the specific, structural spiritual density of two-thousand-year-old formation elixirs decompressed at once, the qi output hitting both women’s cultivation sense like stepping from a lit room into direct sunlight. The sudden comprehensiveness of it. The grade of it.

Chen Yun’s hand had been raised to wipe her face.

It stopped.

Her cultivation sense had found the two shattered elixirs and was doing the automatic assessment that a Core Formation Late Stage practitioner performed on any powerful spiritual qi source—grade-checking, dating, origin-tracing—and the assessment was returning numbers that should not be in this room.

Two-thousand year minimum age. Multiple refinement stages. Combined output sufficient to—

’Loosen a Core Formation Late Stage bottleneck,’ she thought.

’Two of them.’

Wei Lingyue was still shaking, still braced over the shadow sword hilt, still in the aftermath of everything—but her cultivation sense had also found the elixirs, and the grey eyes, when they opened, were doing something between bewilderment and an accounting realization.

"Those are—" she started.

"Yours, if you want them," he said. He was looking at Chen Yun. "And yours."

Chen Yun looked at the broken elixirs on the cave floor.

Then at him.

The demon sword at her back pulsed.

Her cultivation sense was reading the elixirs and reading his spatial ring’s residual energy and reading the man in front of her and arriving at a conclusion that she had been declining to arrive at for approximately thirty-six hours—the specific conclusion that someone who does all the things this man has done and has all the things this man has and knows all the things this man knows and does not lie about the things he doesn’t lie about is a person who is not—whatever she had been telling herself he was.

She looked at the elixirs.

She looked at Wei Lingyue, who was slowly sitting upright, the formation light on her skin, the expression of a woman who has been through something and is sitting in the aftermath of it with something that was not quite surprise and not quite not-surprise and was the specific warmth of the aftermath of being treated, for the first time, as worth the attention.

She looked at Cang.

"You were telling the truth," she said.

"In the ways that matter," he said. "Yes."

Chen Yun absorbed the elixir qi with the automatic filtration of a cultivator receiving a qi input—not consuming them formally, just breathing the released concentration—and felt the bottleneck that had been sitting at the ceiling of her Core Formation Late Stage for the past nine months register the input and shudder.

Not break. Not yet.

But register.

And the herb concentration in the cave, and the ambient qi from the dais, and the residual warmth of the last twenty minutes’ worth of dual cultivation transfer that had been accumulating in the cave air, and her own thighs pressing together for a period of time that was no longer easily calculated—

The sword lady stood.

Very slowly.