The venue for the Alliance Summit was situated at the very floor of the gorge between the East and West Peaks.
Looking down from the window of Yin Luo's cave abode, the mountain walls on both sides had been sheared into vertical precipices, their faces chiseled with temporary grottos and viewing galleries.
The canyon floor was paved with an expansive expanse of smooth white flagstones, large enough to moor three flying vessels of Qingxu Palace's scale.
In the dead center stood a circular elevated dais inscribed with the colossal seal of the Six Sect Alliance, every groove filled with gold dust that gleamed with a cold luster beneath the moonlight.
Yin Luo leaned against the window frame, the stiletto heel of her right shoe tapping softly against the stone floor.
Fresh from a bath, she had yet to put on her sheer nude stockings, stepping with bare feet into her heels, the sash of her black robe loosely knotted.
She held a slender bamboo twig snapped from the bamboo grove between her lips, one end chewed to frayed fibers.
"The conference convenes first thing tomorrow morning. You want to scout the venue now?"
"Yes." Jerry leaped down from the bed, bending over to tighten the laces of his boots. "Before the meeting begins, I need to map the terrain and defensive arrays thoroughly. If someone decides to make a move tomorrow, at least we'll know which way to run."
"Who would dare make a move? Between the Six Sect Alliance and the Myriad Demons Palace, an entire hall of Nascent Soul Elders will be sitting there. Anyone daring to cause trouble in a place like that must have had their head kicked by a demon beast."
"People who've had their heads kicked by beasts exist in the wizarding world, too."
Yin Luo pulled the bamboo twig from her mouth and tapped it twice against the window frame.
The twig, moist with her saliva, made a faint patter against the stone.
She tilted her head, thought for a moment, and casually poked the twig into the soil of a potted spiritual plant on the sill.
"Fine. I'll accompany you. In any case, my waist aches from being worked over by a certain bastard tonight; I can't sleep anyway."
"You were the one who said not to stop."
"I never said not to stop. I said slower, and you didn't listen."
Yin Luo pulled a fresh pair of panties from the wardrobe and put them on, then rolled the sheer nude stockings from her toes up to her waist.
Her fingers moved with practiced efficiency as she drew the nylon upward, snapping the waistband firmly against her hips.
Then she draped on her robe, tied the sash, and bent to pull her stiletto heel from the crack in the stone floor.
The two descended the mountain along a side trail from the cave abode.
The night wind of the East Peak carried moisture surging up from the gorge, rustling the bamboo groves.
Yin Luo walked ahead, her high heels stepping steadily across the gravel path.
Jerry followed behind her, clutching a wand—its tip unlit, but a faint trace of greyish-black magic flowed across the shaft.
Jerry rarely relied on a wand under normal circumstances, but magic didn't flow as smoothly in this world, forcing him to draw upon the wand he kept at the bottom of his trunk.
The white stone plaza at the bottom of the gorge gleamed blindingly under the moonlight.
Seating had already been arranged around the elevated dais, arrayed in three concentric rings by sect hierarchy.
The innermost ring belonged to the Six Sect Alliance and the Myriad Demons Palace, with chairs carved from solid spirit-wood, their backs inlaid with respective sect sigils.
The middle ring was for mid-sized sects.
The outermost ring was for rogue cultivators, lacking even chairs, marked only by grid squares painted on the ground.
Yin Luo walked up to the Myriad Demons Palace's seat in the inner ring, nudging the leg of the chair with her stiletto heel.
"This one is mine. That spot beside it is where you stand. Tomorrow, stay behind me; don't wander off."
"What if I need to take a leak?"
"Hold it in."
"What if I can't hold it?"
"Then piss in your pants," Yin Luo smirked.
Jerry didn't take the bait.
He crouched on the ground before the inner-ring seating, touching the tip of his wand to the white stone floor.
Grey-black magic seeped from the tip, rippling along the seams of the flagstones.
When the magic reached the perimeter of the dais, it made contact with the foundation layer of the defensive array; the array's runic lines flared briefly before dimming back down.
"The defensive array is a joint construct of the Six Sects. The outer layer is an Isolation Ward from Qingxu Palace, the middle layer is a Divine Sense Monitoring Array from the Heavenly Secrets Pavilion, and the inner layer is a Vajra Guardian Array from the Buddhist Sect. Three stacked layers—capable of withstanding three full-power strikes from a Nascent Soul cultivator."
Lifting the wand from the ground, he angled the tip toward the top of the dais.
A probe thread of magic lanced from the tip, sweeping across the grand seal in the dead center of the dais.
When it swept over the center of the seal, the probe line suddenly bent at a ninety-degree angle and snapped back violently, the recoil jolting his wrist.
"What's that?"
Jerry rubbed the shaft of his wand with his fingers, the magical runes across the wood rearranging under his pads into an alternate diagnostic mode.
Aiming at the seal's center once more, he released a fine pulse of magical ripples rather than a probe line.
The ripples expanded outward with him as the epicenter.
Crossing the seal's center triggered no reaction, but when the ripples swept over the shadowed area behind the dais foundation, a magical echo rebounded—identical in frequency to his own pulse, but with its phase shifted by a hundred and eighty degrees.
Echolocation.
Jerry went from crouching to lying flat, pressing his chest and belly against the white stone floor, poking his head beneath the rim of the dais foundation, sliding his wand into a gap less than half an arm's width beneath the base.
Using his left index and middle fingers to steady the wand, his fingers rotated the shaft to adjust its angle millimeter by millimeter within the narrow crevice.
Yin Luo stood behind him with arms crossed, looking down at his wriggling back.
"You look like a lizard with its tail stepped on."
"Then stand further back. Don't let the lizard's tail slap you."
The tip of the wand struck something hard beneath the base.
The tactile feedback was neither stone, nor metal, nor spiritual crystal.
It was wood. Peach wood. A wand shaft.
His wand had made contact with a wizard's wand.
The wand was lashed to a load-bearing pillar at the base of the dais, wound in no less than twenty tight coils of hemp twine.
Etched into the surface of the shaft was a runic circuit Jerry recognized—a variant of an advanced Blasting Curse.
He had seen this variant once before; the residual magical fluctuations in the photograph of that half-demolished tower ruin matched the grey light floating across this wand to perfection.
Jerry crawled out from beneath the dais base, sitting on the ground with his back against the stonework, resting his wand across his knees.
He tapped his fingers on the shaft three times, at least four threads of deductions racing through his mind simultaneously.
"It's not cultivator handiwork," he murmured, keeping his voice to an absolute whisper.
Yin Luo crouched beside him, her knees level with the waistband of her stockings, the sheer nude fabric stretching taut and gleaming over her thigh muscles.
"What is it?"
"A wizard's wand. Bound to an explosive spell trigger matrix. The trigger condition is likely timed or remotely commanded. If this thing detonates, the blast radius is large enough to shred every seat in the inner ring to splinters. Nascent Soul protective auras can weather the shockwave, but the low-tier disciples around them will be wiped out in droves."
"Many of those low-tier disciples are personal disciples of sect Elders. One death humiliates an entire sect; a crowd of deaths humiliates the Six Sect Alliance. When that happens, regardless of whether any Nascent Soul cultivator was scratched, the war will escalate instantly. The Righteous path will insist this was a trap set by the Myriad Demons Palace at the summit." Yin Luo's voice was steady, but her black-nailed fingers tightened around her hem. "Even if an investigation proves the Myriad Demons Palace wasn't responsible, who would believe it? The evidence would have been blown to dust."
"More than that." Jerry tapped his wand again. "If it's traced to the wizarding world, that Blasting Curse is pure wizarding magic, completely unaligned with cultivation systems. The Six Sects' investigation will conclude that the enemy has infiltrated the cultivation realm and planted bombs at their highest-level summit. Do you think they'll still negotiate?"
"No. Total war. At all costs."
Both fell silent.
A gust of wind rose from the valley floor, blowing from the West Peak, causing the gold dust of the alliance seal on the dais to shimmer.
The outer isolation ward rippled faintly, a pale gold arc of light flaring and fading above the gorge.
The valley floor was deathly quiet, save for the rustling of banners hanging from the viewing stands before settling against their posts.
Jerry slipped his wand into the leather holster at his belt and dropped flat again.
This time, he didn't use his wand, reaching his entire right arm into the crevice.
His fingers couldn't reach the knot on the load-bearing pillar, missing the tail of the twine by two inches.
Dropping his left shoulder half an inch and reaching further, the shoulder seam of his robe popped open with a rip.
"I can't reach it. Your arms are longer than mine. Reach in."
Yin Luo knelt on the stone floor, slipping her right arm into the gap.
Her reach exceeded Jerry's by two and a half inches, her black nails grazing the hemp tail.
Pinching the cord between her knuckles, she teased it free and began unraveling the coils.
The twine was wrapped at least twenty times, each coil undone with fingertip finesse in the narrow gap.
By the fifth coil, her knuckles grew stiff; by the tenth, her forearm veins bulged; by the eighteenth, she pulled her hand out to shake it twice before continuing.
She glanced sideways at Jerry with a huff.
"This knotting method doesn't look like a wizard's work. A wizard tying something leaves room for incantations; they wouldn't wrap this many dead knots. This looks like someone terrified of it being untied."
"So the person who planted it isn't necessarily a wizard. It could be someone using magical tools, or a wizard supplied them with the tools and they tied it themselves."
"A traitor inside, then."
The cord fell away completely.
Yin Luo pulled the final coil from the wand, pinching the shaft between her index and middle fingers to carefully extract it from behind the pillar.
Placing it on the white stone floor, the shaft was peach wood, roughly ten and a half inches long, with an exposed core of greyish-white fiber visible at the break.
The trigger circuit of the Blasting Curse was carved as a triple-spiral along the midsection, studded with sesame-sized magic crystals at each intersection.
Jerry lifted it by the tip with two fingers to inspect it.
At the butt was engraved a two-letter abbreviation in English.
"The manufacturer mark is Ollivanders."
He traced the spiral in reverse, his finger pausing at a node on the second ring.
"Timed trigger. Seven shichen remaining. Seven shichen from now is noon tomorrow, during the summit's intermission. At that moment, everyone will be in the hall—from presiding Elders to rogue disciples serving tea, half the summit attendees."
"They intend to blow up the intermission." Yin Luo took the wand, tracing the spiral. Her fingertip met a faint static pulse from a crystal. "The node layout mirrors the array logic of the East Peak guest suites—compressed burst detonation, only powered by magic. Whoever set this is no amateur; they understand theory. They know exactly how many targets this will obliterate and calculated the timing to the second."
Jerry drew his own wand, aimed at the spiral runes, and channeled a thread of dismantling magic into the peach wood.
The magic unraveled the circuit in reverse, neutralizing each crystal one by one.
The tiny crystals turned from grey-white to dark black before crumbling to powder.
He neutralized sixteen crystals across three rings, but at the very last one, the frequency spiked; the energy flared before dying, cracking a hairline fracture lengthwise from the third spiral to the butt.
The crack didn't split the wood completely, but it destroyed the core structure; it could no longer trigger a complete detonation.
Yin Luo shoved the dismantled wand deep into her storage pouch.
Rising, she dusted off her hem. Kneeling on the flagstones had left grey smudges on the knees of her nude stockings that wouldn't brush off.
She kicked her heels against the stone to dislodge stray pebbles.
"Seven shichen. We have time to search. But we must comb beneath the entire platform. If there's more than one, and the others aren't dismantled, everything blows at noon."
"We search everything. All four faces of the dais, every support pillar under the stands, the inner legs of the VIP seats. You start from the east, I'll take the west, and we meet in the middle."
Yin Luo rolled her sleeves past her elbows and knelt down again.
She felt along the base stone cracks on the west, stopping when her fingers met hard wood.
Beside the third pillar, she found another, bound in the exact same twenty dead knots.
"Second one!" she called out.
"Third one!" Jerry called from the east. "Hidden inside a compartment on an inner chair leg. Not tied, tucked straight into the storage slot!"
They dismantled for nearly an hour.
By the fourth one Yin Luo found, the twine was soaked in oily liquid—mustard oil.
She sniffed the soaked hemp, tasting a tiny speck on the tip of her tongue before spitting it out, identifying it as mustard oil.
Tossing the wet cord aside, she untied the remaining coils with dry fingers, the oil rubbing onto her nude stockings and leaving a glistening smear.
Jerry was busy removing the penultimate wand.
Wedged between a pillar and a railing, he had to pry loose the decorative panels with his pocket knife, slipping the blade carefully behind the wood.
He pulled out the wand to find it bent out of shape by an iron fitting; though the circuit was crushed, residual core magic lingered. He severed the remaining connections with the knife to neutralize it completely.
They met at the front steps.
Yin Luo held four dismantled peach-wood wands; Jerry held two, plus remnants from hidden slots.
Six complete wands lined up on the ground, with fragments beside them.
Yin Luo produced the first disabled wand, bringing the tally to seven complete wands and a pile of broken pieces.
Jerry checked the butts: all bore Ollivanders initials and serial numbers, non-sequential.
"They weren't purchased in a single batch from one shop; they were smuggled through multiple dispersed channels."
"The culprit buys wands, wraps them in mustard-oil-soaked twine, ties cultivator dead knots, and timed the explosion for noon intermission. They understand wizarding magic and cultivation summit procedures alike."
Yin Luo added, "And they had access to the summit's logistical setup. They couldn't breach the guest wards, but venue setup followed standard protocols. Disciples placing chairs wouldn't notice wands stuffed into legs and pillars. They probably had no idea."
"So the culprit is either in logistics, or logistics gave them cover. Two leads: an infiltrator from the wizarding world operating in logistics, or a traitor within cultivation ranks hiring a smuggler. We investigate both. You trace logistics rosters, I'll track the wand smuggling origin."
Yin Luo stowed the wands into her pouch, tying the drawstring to her inner belt.
The stone around the platform showed no sign of tampering.
"Let's head back," Yin Luo yawned, resting her chin on her knees before shaking her hair back. "Tomorrow at the summit, I act oblivious. You act oblivious. We have less than seven shichen; we must pin down their identity before dawn."
"Before dawn," Jerry repeated.
They walked back up the trail, Yin Luo leading the way, her stilettos clicking softly in the gorge breeze.
When Yin Luo pushed open the door to her cave abode, her steps hitched on the threshold.
All the lanterns in the room were blazing.
Warm yellow spiritual flames danced in wall sconces, illuminating the chamber brightly.
Two extra teacups sat beside the blood-tea pot on the table, steaming hot.
The bed was made immaculately, without a single wrinkle on the deep purple silk coverlet.
Su Xin sat in the room's sole chair.
Her hands were tucked into her sleeves, posture rigid, knees pressed together, boots aligned.
Her white Daoist robe was spotless.
Liu Qingluo stood behind her right shoulder, her left hand resting on her sword hilt, fingers stroking the tassel.
Yin Luo crossed the threshold, her stiletto clicking against the stone.
Jerry followed behind her, slipping his right hand into his sleeve, concealing his wand beneath his grey robe.
The door clicked shut behind them.
"Fellow Daoist Blood Butterfly." Su Xin's voice was measured, words evenly spaced.
She did not rise, merely drawing her right hand from her sleeve, holding a thumb-sized Memory Stone between her fingers.
Yin Luo's gaze locked onto the stone.
"When did you record it?"
"Is there a problem?"
Yin Luo walked to the table, pouring herself a cup of blood tea.
The dark red brew splashed into the cup.
Taking a sip, her throat bobbed.
Setting down the cup, she tapped the rim. "Meaning my entire front was recorded."
Su Xin nodded. "His was recorded as well."
Liu Qingluo's grip on her sword tassel tightened.
The corner of Yin Luo's mouth hooked upward.
Leaning against the table with arms crossed, tapping her black-lacquered nails against her arm.
"If you intended to report this, you would have done so two hours ago. Sitting in my room with that stone means you want something."
"Perceptive," Su Xin flipped the Memory Stone in her fingers, its crimson glow pulsing. "Fellow Daoist Yin Luo, your attendant's energy leaked for less than a second during his climax. The frequency has nothing in common with spiritual Qi—grey, outside the Five Elements, disconnected from meridians. He is a wizard."
Yin Luo did not deny it.
"An Elder of the Myriad Demons Palace harboring an otherworldly wizard, concealing his identity to infiltrate the Alliance Summit. If this leaks, the Myriad Demons Palace will be stripped of its delegation at best, or face a joint crusade by the Six Sects at worst." Su Xin turned the stone once more. "However, I have no intention of letting it leak."
"Your terms."
"Tomorrow, during the summit's vote on expanding the war, the Myriad Demons Palace votes in favor."
Yin Luo's fingers paused on her arm, then resumed tapping.
"I am merely an Elder. Voting power belongs to the Palace Master."
"The Palace Master is absent. You are the representative. A representative vote equals the Palace Master's vote."
"It does not. A representative vote requires confirmation from the Palace Master before casting. I have no autonomous voting authority."
"Then seek instruction."
"The Palace Master accepts no transmissions during secluded cultivation."
A faint curve appeared at Su Xin's lips—not Liu Qingluo's fake smile, but an upturn of barely a millimeter.
"All the more convenient. In his absence, your vote is the Palace Master's vote. If he questions it later, say you judged the Six Sects' posture to be unyielding and that non-compliance would bring retribution. That falls within an Elder's on-site discretion."
Yin Luo sipped her tea again and set it down.
"And if I refuse?"
Su Xin held the Memory Stone up to the light, its surface glowing deep crimson.
Tapping the top, a miniature projection materialized—fingernail-sized, but clear: Yin Luo's purple hair, Jerry's grey robe, two nude bodies entwined.
"Three copies will be made. One to the Six Sect Executive Council. One to your Palace Master's desk. And one..." Su Xin tapped the stone again, "...duplicated into hundreds of copies, distributed outside the summit gates tomorrow."
Liu Qingluo suppressed a smirk.
Yin Luo's slit pupils swept from Su Xin to Liu Qingluo, and back.
Her left hand hung at her side.
Her black-nailed index finger tapped lightly against her outer thigh.
A tiny motion, unnoticed by Su Xin or Liu Qingluo.
Jerry caught it.
Tapping a finger was her signal for Jerry to strike. In the Myriad Demons Palace, they had agreed: one tap meant "prepare," two taps meant "strike."
"I need to consider it," Yin Luo's voice resumed its lazy, bored drawl.
She pushed off the table, stepping toward Su Xin.
Su Xin sat motionless; Liu Qingluo tightened her grip on her hilt.
Yin Luo stood before Su Xin, looking down from her height in stilettos.
"Two questions." Yin Luo raised her right hand, holding up two fingers.
"First, how can I be certain you'll truly destroy it after I vote yes?"
"Cultivators can swear a Dao-heart oath."
"Second."
Yin Luo's left finger tapped a second time.
Two taps.
The instant the second tap landed, Jerry moved.
His wand slipped from his sleeve, aiming straight at Liu Qingluo's back.
Grey-black magic shot from the tip.
The Full Body-Bind Curse—Petrificus Totalus.
The magic netted Liu Qingluo before she could react, locking her arms and torso solid.
As she gripped her hilt to draw, her arms froze in place, joints locked halfway through the draw.
Her mouth opened to scream, but a silent Silencio sealed her vocal cords, venting only a soundless breath.
Simultaneously, Yin Luo's two raised fingers flicked, shooting two dark-purple threads of spiritual Qi.
The first bound Su Xin's right wrist—the hand holding the Memory Stone.
The second bound her left wrist, pinning both hands to the armrests of the chair.
Su Xin's Nascent Soul Qi erupted to shatter the threads, stretching them taut.
Yin Luo slammed her left palm onto Su Xin's shoulder, pouring late Nascent Soul cultivation into her body.
The power gap crushed through; Su Xin's protective aura shattered to motes, and Yin Luo's energy invaded her meridians, sealing four major acupoints in three seconds flat: Jianjing, Tianzong, Dazhui, and Quchi.
The spiritual conduits in Su Xin's arms were severed.
Her face turned ashen.
"Yin Luo!"
"The second question," Yin Luo spread her palm, curling her fingers. "Hand over the Memory Stone."
Su Xin's fingers, robbed of strength by the sealed acupoints, went limp.
The Memory Stone slipped from her grasp, clattering softly onto the armrest.
Yin Luo picked it up, rolling it in her palm, before tucking it into her storage pouch.
Liu Qingluo remained frozen in her half-drawn stance, lips moving soundlessly in what looked like "Let me go."
Jerry walked up to Liu Qingluo.
Standing at her shoulder height, he tilted her chin up two centimeters with his wand to meet his gaze.
"Last time you scanned my groin, did you want to see it clearly?"
Liu Qingluo's lips mouthed rapid curses, but not a sound escaped.
Yin Luo hauled Su Xin from the chair by her collar, dragging her like a cat over to the bed.
Su Xin's legs could move, but her upper torso was paralyzed.
Yin Luo sat her on the edge of the mattress, binding her ankles to the bedposts with spiritual threads.
Su Xin sat bound, white robes askew, baring pale skin at her collarbone.
"Yin Luo," Su Xin's voice remained measured, though slightly rushed. "Touch me and my disciple tonight, and Qingxu Palace will not forgive you tomorrow."
"Tomorrow's affairs belong to tomorrow," Yin Luo crouched before Su Xin, stilettos clicking on the stone. "Let's settle tonight. You scried on him and me, watching the entire performance. Let me ask you: Was it enjoyable to watch?"
The corner of Su Xin's mouth twitched—the first uncontrolled expression Yin Luo had ever seen on her face in over a century.
Jerry pushed Liu Qingluo toward the bed step by step until her legs hit the edge, toppling backward onto the purple coverlet.
Her sword clattered to the floor.
Jerry climbed onto the bed, straddling her waist.
His wand tapped her collar.
Accio.
The ties of her white Daoist robe unraveled one by one—collar, chest, waist, cuffs.
The fabric parted, revealing her pale green bodice.
Another Summoning Charm unfastened the neck and back ties of the bodice.
The silk slipped away, exposing her bare breasts and erect pink nipples to the lantern light.
Liu Qingluo's silent lips mouthed "No, please" over and over.
Jerry didn't stop.
His wand pointed lower. The ties of her silk panties unraveled under the spell, and Jerry yanked the panties free with his left hand, tossing them onto the headboard.
Liu Qingluo lay completely naked.
Her body strained against the Body-Bind Curse, every muscle rigid like a pale marble statue.
Jerry stripped off his robes and hoodie, exposing his lean torso, and unbuckled his trousers.
His cock sprang free, casting an elongated shadow across Liu Qingluo's flat belly up to her ribs.
Liu Qingluo's silent curses halted instantly.
Her mouth hung open, frozen in shock.
Su Xin tilted her neck from the bedside, her eyes landing on the massive erection between Jerry's legs.
She stared for three seconds.
"...So this was what you meant by 'not fabric.'"
Liu Qingluo's lips moved again—mouthing, "How could it be that big?"
Jerry shifted forward until his cock rested against Liu Qingluo's collarbone, the head aligned with her chin.
"Last time you scanned me, you thought it was bunched fabric. Look closely now. It's no fabric."
Liu Qingluo flushed crimson to her hairline.
Jerry gripped the base of his shaft and brought the swollen head to her lips, a drop of pre-cum glistening at the slit.
"Open your mouth."
She clamped her lips shut tight.
Jerry pinched her nostrils shut with his left fingers.
Twelve seconds later, gasping for air, her lips parted.
Jerry thrust forward two inches, shoving the head past her lips onto her tongue.
Yin Luo watched with a bamboo twig between her teeth.
"Stamping that size into her mouth will dislocate her jaw."
"How would you know?"
Yin Luo glanced at Su Xin, whose throat bobbed with a dry swallow.
Jerry pumped slowly in and out of Liu Qingluo's mouth.
Silenced, she couldn't scream, but her teeth grated against his skin.
Jerry hissed. "Keep your teeth back. Bite again, and your Master takes your punishment."
Her teeth backed off.
Yin Luo hauled Su Xin up, forcing her to kneel beside the bed, upper body leaning over the mattress.
Hoisting the skirt of Su Xin's white robes, she exposed her white silk panties.
"Master and disciple wearing the exact same style," Yin Luo peeled Su Xin's panties down to mid-thigh, exposing her pale buttocks.
Yin Luo delivered a sharp slap to Su Xin's ass cheek with a crisp smack!
Su Xin's waist tensed, but she remained silent.
"A mid Nascent Soul Law Enforcement Elder—spanked on the ass without making a sound. Impressive."
"Why should I scream?"
Yin Luo struck a second time, channeling spiritual Qi. The blow rippled across the pale flesh, echoing loudly.
Su Xin's spine arched taut for two seconds before relaxing.
"Still silent."
"Pointless."
Yin Luo pulled out a blank Memory Stone, activating it with crimson light, filming Su Xin's reddened buttock.
"You filmed mine. Now I film yours. Fair."
Jerry pulled his cock from Liu Qingluo's mouth, a string of saliva trailing to his tip before snapping onto her chin.
Stepping down from the bed, his glistening, saliva-drenched cock stood proud.
He stepped behind the kneeling Su Xin.
Standing, his hips aligned level with Su Xin's raised buttocks.
His tip brushed against her right buttock, making her muscles contract.
"Yin Luo, what are you doing?" Su Xin asked, her tone slightly faster.
"Not me. Him. I'm just filming."
Jerry rested his hand on Su Xin's lower back, guiding his cock along her cleft down to her entrance.
Bone dry.
"Your Master is tougher than you," Jerry glanced back at the paralyzed Liu Qingluo.
Yin Luo uncapped a vial of Spirit Spring Oil, drizzling it onto her fingers.
"Spirit Spring Oil. A few drops will lubricate her."
She rubbed the oil between Su Xin's thighs, coating her vulva.
Su Xin shivered at the cold touch. "Your fingers are freezing."
"Obviously. The wind in the gorge was blowing for an hour."
Yin Luo wiped her hand on Su Xin's robe and stepped back. "There. Slick enough."
Jerry pressed his head against Su Xin's entrance, the oil allowing him to slide smoothly between her labia.
Su Xin's hands clenched into fists behind her back, her waist dipping as his tip entered.
"Don't pull away."
"...Too large." For the first time, Su Xin's measured cadence fractured.
Jerry pushed further in, the thick shaft stretching her tight ring of muscle to its limit.
"Tighter than your disciple's mouth."
Su Xin buried her face in the bedding, her hair pin slipping loose.
Jerry sank two-thirds of his length inside, pausing for two seconds to let her adjust, before pumping his hips.
Wet squelching echoed from their junction.
Yin Luo circled behind Jerry, filming with the Memory Stone.
"Filming from behind is quite a spectacle. You're barely wider than her hips, but that thing stuffed inside is thicker than her forearm."
Jerry ignored her, accelerating his pace, pulling out until only his crown remained before slamming all the way home.
Su Xin's knees shifted forward across the stone floor with each impact, her breasts crushed against the wooden bed frame.
Yin Luo circled back to the bed where Liu Qingluo lay paralyzed, filming her face, chest, and belly.
"A disciple watching her Master get fucked. Since when did Qingxu Palace include this in its curriculum?"
Liu Qingluo's face burned crimson, fingers clenching and unclenching in fury.
After three minutes of pumping inside Su Xin, Jerry pulled out with a wet pop, leaving her entrance gaping in an oval shape, cream and oil dripping out.
Jerry climbed back onto the bed, straddling Liu Qingluo's thighs.
His cock, wet with Su Xin's fluids and oil, rested against Liu Qingluo's belly.
Jerry parted her knees, releasing the body-bind on her legs while keeping her torso locked.
Her legs tried to clamp shut, but Jerry's knees wedged them wide to shoulder-width.
"Last time you scanned my crotch, this was what you found."
Her pussy was completely dry, lips sealed tight.
Yin Luo handed over the Spirit Spring Oil.
Jerry poured several drops onto her mons, the oil running down between her labia and clitoris to her entrance.
He rubbed it over her inner lips with his thumb, making her belly muscles spasm.
"You're still a virgin?"
Liu Qingluo's lips halted. Her face flushed from red to pale, and back to deep crimson, mouthing a sharp word.
Yin Luo aimed the Memory Stone right at her groin.
"The premier disciple of Qingxu Palace is a virgin. Makes sense."
Jerry probed her entrance with his thumb—tight as an unyielding wall.
"Fingers first."
His index finger probed the entrance, encountering the resistant hymen.
He gently circled the tissue, easing the tension, before sliding an inch inside.
Liu Qingluo's belly clenched.
He slipped his middle finger in alongside, stretching the tight passage.
Curling his fingers, his pads found a textured swelling along her anterior wall and pressed firmly.
Liu Qingluo's back arched ten centimeters off the mattress, a silent vowel stretching across her wide-open lips.
"Found it." Jerry pressed twice more; each press made her back arch, until a gush of warm pussy juice flooded around his fingers.
"Wet now."
He withdrew his fingers, strings of fluid snapping against her inner thighs.
His head pressed against her virgin opening.
Yin Luo aimed the Memory Stone directly at the junction.
Jerry thrust an inch forward, his crown stretching the entrance, the coronal ridge pressing into the hymen.
Under the pressure, the membrane stretched to its limit before tearing with a sharp give.
A bead of virgin blood welled from the tear, smearing with the oil and juice into a pale pink swirl across his head.
Liu Qingluo's entire body spasmed from head to toe for three seconds.
"Does it hurt?"
Liu Qingluo's silent lips mouthed rapid, frantic syllables.
Jerry couldn't tell if she was mouthing "it hurts," "it doesn't hurt," or "go die."
"What is she saying?"
"She's saying... 'It's so huge, it feels incredible!'"