Morning came to the Plum Blossom Sect with the smell of mountain flowers and formation incense.
The sun crested the eastern peaks in long, golden strips that cut through the mist hanging over the waterfall gardens. The water fell from a height of forty feet, crashing into a deep pool that fed the sect's spiritual veins. The mist around it was thick with qi, dense enough to taste on the tongue.
The Cai mother walked the garden path.
Her body was wrecked.
Her azure silk dress was clean—she had found a fresh one in the ancestor's quarters—but her body beneath it told the story of the night. Her enormous tits were marked with bite marks and finger bruises that showed through the fabric. Her dark nipples were so swollen they pressed visible bumps against the silk. Her thick ass ached with every step, the anal still raw and leaking from the hours of brutal use. Her cunt was a mess of dried seed and her own arousal, the lips puffy and tender.
She walked anyway.
