Ultimate Villain's Return as a Doctor in the Cultivation World-Chapter 65- Zhang Yue’s Sword Ride

And his cock—even soft now (finally), it hung thick and heavy between his legs, the crimson head still glistening, the scaled shaft a weapon that had just destroyed two women completely.

’Forty-seven Herbs well spent,’ he thought with dark satisfaction.

He pulled on basic robes—the ones he’d worn yesterday, now hanging loose on his transformed body—and opened the door to the guest room.

And froze.

Because standing in the hallway, clearly having just approached the door, hand raised as if about to knock—

Was Zhang Yue.

The daughter. Face flushed. Eyes wide. Clearly having heard everything.

For a long moment, they just stared at each other.

Then—

"I—I WASN’T SNEAKING—!!" Yue blurted out, face burning crimson, taking a step back. "I WASN’T LISTENING—I WAS JUST—MOTHER TOLD ME TO—TO BRING YOU TO—!!"

She gestured wildly, unable to form coherent sentences, and Cang noticed—

Her eyes kept flicking down. To his crotch. Where even through the robes, the outline of his cock was visible.

And her face—flushed not just with embarrassment. But with something else. Her pupils dilated. Her breathing quick. Her thighs pressing together subtly.

’The aphrodisiac is still affecting her,’ he realized. ’And after a night of masturbating while listening... she’s primed.’

"Mother—" Yue tried again, forcing her eyes up to his face. "Mother said I should—should bring you to the ceremony. The—the Wei family banquet thing. She—she thought maybe you could—"

She trailed off, clearly not wanting to say it.

’She wants me to protect her daughter,’ Cang translated. ’The mother is already considering letting me help. Good.’

"Of course," he said smoothly, and her eyes widened slightly at how different his voice sounded—deeper, richer, more commanding. "I’d be happy to accompany you."

He stepped out of the guest room fully, and Yue’s eyes went wide as she took in his full appearance for the first time in daylight.

"You—" Her voice came out strangled. "You look—different—"

’Different’ was an understatement. He looked like a completely different person—transformed from "attractive cultivator" to "divine being."

"Cultivation advancement," he explained casually, as if it were normal to become that much more attractive overnight. "It tends to refine the body."

Her face flushed darker, and she looked away quickly.

"I—we should—it’s starting soon—"

"One moment," Cang said, and made a show of looking down at himself, at his basic robes. "I can’t attend a formal ceremony dressed like this."

He raised one hand, and—

FLASH!

Golden light swirled around his fingers as he accessed his dimensional storage ring, and pulled out—

A robe that made Zhang Yue’s eyes go impossibly wide.

It was magnificent. Imperial quality. Deep crimson silk embroidered with golden dragons that seemed to move across the fabric. The cut was perfect, designed to showcase his transformed physique while maintaining regal dignity. The collar high and proud, the sleeves flowing.

It was the kind of robe an emperor would wear to receive foreign dignitaries.

He donned it casually, and the effect was devastating.

He looked like royalty. Like someone who could command armies with a gesture. Like someone who absolutely did not belong in this backwater town.

"Oh—" Yue breathed, staring. "I—I forgot—you’re a cultivator. A strong one. I thought—"

She stopped, face burning.

’She thought I was just a pervert,’ Cang finished mentally, amused. ’She literally forgot I could flatten this entire town because all she’s seen me do is fuck women.’

"Shall we go?" he asked gently.

"Y-yes—"

She turned to lead the way, walking quickly toward the front door, and Cang followed—

Noticing immediately how her hand moved back unconsciously, as if to protect her hips, her ass, like she expected him to pounce at any moment.

’Smart girl. But it won’t help.’

"Where’s your mother?" he asked as they stepped outside into the early morning light.

"Resting—" Yue answered quickly, not meeting his eyes. "In her room. She—she’s exhausted from—from herb gathering yesterday—"

’And from masturbating herself into unconsciousness,’ Cang added mentally, suppressing a smirk.

The town of Qinghe was already awake, early morning activity filling the streets—merchants setting up stalls, farmers heading to fields, children running errands.

And the moment Cang stepped into view—

Everyone stopped.

Conversations halted mid-sentence. Hands froze mid-gesture. Eyes widened and locked onto him with shock and awe.

Because he looked like an immortal who’d descended from the heavens.

"Is that—?"

"Who is—?"

"Look at him—"

Whispers spread like wildfire through the morning crowd.

"He must be from a major sect—"

"That robe—that’s imperial quality—"

"What’s someone like THAT doing in Qinghe—?"

And most prominently—from every woman they passed—

Stares. Hungry, awed, wanting stares.

Young women blushing and whispering behind their hands. Older women looking with expressions of longing. Even married women glancing with clear appreciation.

Zhang Yue noticed. How could she not?

Her face burned hotter with each whispered comment, each stare, each obvious display of attraction directed at the man walking beside her.

’This is ridiculous,’ she thought, hands clenching into fists. ’He’s just—he’s just a pervert who—but he does look—NO. Stop it.’

"Young Miss Zhang!" A merchant called out, waving. "Who’s your companion? An honored guest?"

"He’s—" Yue stammered. "He’s just—family friend—traveling through—"

More whispers. More stares.

Women openly approaching, trying to speak to him, introduce themselves, offer refreshments—

And Cang handled it all with perfect grace. Smiling. Polite. Charming in a way that made every woman who spoke to him blush and giggle.

’I hate this,’ Yue thought viciously, though she couldn’t articulate why it bothered her so much.

Finally, they reached the edge of town where the ceremony was being held—a large building with traditional architecture, pagodas rising on either side, clearly the most impressive structure in Qinghe.

"We need—" Yue stopped, looking around. "We need a carriage. But they’re all—"

She gestured at the empty street. All the town’s carriages had already been hired to transport guests to the ceremony.

"We’ll have to walk, and it’ll take—"

"Or," Cang interrupted smoothly, "I could fly us there."

Yue’s head snapped toward him.

"Fly—?" Her voice cracked. "You mean—sword flight?"

"Unless you’d prefer to walk for an hour," he said with amusement.

"I—" She looked conflicted, face flushed. "I don’t—I’ve never—"

But he was already moving.

One hand raised, golden light flashing, and from his dimensional ring emerged—

A sword.

Not decorative. Not ceremonial. A real cultivator’s flying sword—sleek, black metal inscribed with glowing formations, radiating power.

It hung in the air before him, perfectly balanced, waiting.

Cang stepped onto it casually, standing with perfect balance, and extended one hand toward Yue.

"Come," he said simply.

"I—I don’t think—" She took a step back. "I’ll just walk—it’s fine—"

But his hand shot out, gripping her wrist, and pulled—

"WAIT—!!"

She stumbled forward, and suddenly she was on the sword with him, pressed against his body, his arms wrapping around her waist to steady her—

And the sword lifted.

"NO NO NO—!!" Yue’s scream echoed through the morning air as they rose rapidly, the ground falling away beneath them, and she clung to him desperately, eyes squeezing shut.

Below, the crowd that had gathered gasped.

"HE’S FLYING—!!"

"SWORD FLIGHT—?! HE’S AT LEAST CORE FORMATION—!!"

"WHO IS THAT—?!"

But Cang ignored them, the sword rising higher, leveling off about fifty feet above the ground, and beginning to glide smoothly toward the ceremony building in the distance.

And pressed against him—

Zhang Yue felt everything.

His hard body. His warmth. His strength. And most prominently—

Something thick and hard pressing against her ass crack through the layers of fabric between them.

’Is that—oh gods—that’s his—!’