Pretending to Have Spiritual Qi
Ling Ru gazed at Liu Zichu, who had passed out with a nosebleed, her eyes drifting down to the tall, erect cock jutting from his crotch...
She had stripped only to stimulate him, to get his cock hard so she could guide him to the right acupoints.
But she hadn't expected him to faint again, just like last time—overexcited by the sight of her naked body closing in, spurting blood from his nose until he blacked out.
Ling Ru didn't even know what to say. This scumbag who had raped countless innocent women with his sky-high lust—why did he faint both times he saw her nude?
The situation forced her to wonder: was her body really that stimulating to him?
She knew Liu Zichu had always wanted to touch her, to fuck her. But like this—spraying nosebleeds and collapsing at the sight of her nakedness—how could he ever manage it?
Ling Ru formed a sword finger with her hand, pointing from afar at several acupoints on Liu Zichu's body to staunch the bleeding. Then she cast a cleansing incantation to wipe away the bloodstains. With a final wave, his body floated up and settled gently onto the bed.
The fully naked man lay at her feet, his cock standing rigidly at attention. She stood over the bed, her jet-black hair cascading to her waist, her exquisite form utterly bare, displaying peerless erotic beauty as she gazed down at him.
Ling Ru took an involuntary step back, her knees bending as she knelt beside him, her body angled right toward his upright cock.
Staring at her nephew's member, she let her slender hand drift between her thighs, covering her pussy as she pondered the decision she'd just made.
One moment, she thought he deserved to die, that she owed him nothing. The next, she wondered why not give it a try, since she'd promised him one last chance.
Whatever inner turmoil had led to her choice, once decided, Ling Ru wouldn't second-guess helping him this once.
Even in the worst case—if he truly disappointed her—she could always end him with a single palm strike.
Liu Zichu had no idea that, though her favor toward him had been steadily rising, Ling Ru had never fully abandoned the thought of killing him. Everything she did now was just giving him a chance—his final one.
Her gaze shifted to his face, and as she watched him lie there unconscious, a rare flicker of emotion softened her usual icy eyes.
The old Liu Zichu had been arrogant and domineering, his face full of disdain for everyone around him—a haughtiness that showed in his every look and action.
Now, that same handsome face held none of its former madness or malice.
He was still lustful enough to grope his aunt's body and tits, bold enough to crave fucking her pussy.
But his lust had turned cautious, stripped of the repulsive possessiveness that once turned her stomach.
"You've really changed..."
Ling Ru murmured to herself, extending the slender hand that had just been between her thighs to gently caress his cheek.
The soft touch on his face made Liu Zichu's eyelids flutter. A mere blood-rush faint was easy to snap out of.
As awareness returned, his eyes opened to an unprecedented sight: his aunt's face, not in its habitual chill but with a gentleness that bordered on warmth—though really, it was just the absence of her usual frost, and that alone was miraculous.
This gentle aunt was stroking his cheek. Liu Zichu swallowed hard. Beyond her stunning features loomed the massive, snow-white swells of her breasts.
Those pale tits looked plush and heavy, threatening to overflow his vision. So weighty and full, yet only slightly sagging—plump and perky. Her areolas were a deep crimson, the small nipples tilting upward, begging to be sucked.
Waking to such a cozy, lascivious scene, Liu Zichu's eyes bulged, hot blood surging as he teetered on the edge of another nosebleed.
"A-Auntie..." His voice stuttered, eyes locked inescapably on her breasts.
Ling Ru felt no shame at his stare. After years of gang-rapes by men, such embarrassment had long vanished.
She simply watched him, noting the embarrassment and raw desire on his face. From the corner of her eye, she saw his cock twitch under the stimulation, while his palms quivered with eager temptation.
The air grew strangely charged. Liu Zichu's mind waged war: her naked body and tits so close—so damn close! Touch them? Touch them!
His hands itched to move, but just then, Ling Ru's hand left his face and reached toward his crotch.
He'd mustered the courage for a grope when her gentle fingers brushed his cock—right at the sensitive frenulum below the coronal ridge, the tender link between shaft and foreskin.
He remembered it well: his senior sister had teased it with her tongue during blowjobs, driving him to ecstasy. Even Auntie, sucking him off before, had made it throb most there.
Her touch there sent his cock jumping wildly, his breath quickening.
Then it hit him why he'd fainted: she'd wanted him hard, he hadn't obliged, so she'd stripped bare before him.
Could it be... Auntie’s finally going to rape me!!!
Ling Ru ignored his thoughts, her finger pressing his shaft as she said, "From here..."
A thread of spiritual qi pierced from her fingertip into his cock. Liu Zichu felt a sharp tingle—not bad, just damn intense.
Her finger slid down the rigid length, tracing not just the bulging veins but the urethral seam beneath, swollen from erection.
As she glided along that raised line, she fed in faint qi, letting him feel her soft fingertip while wincing at the stinging path it traced inside his shaft.
Her finger reached the base, pausing where cock met ballsack. "To here..."
Liu Zichu's breaths came heavy, but he'd caught her words: from tip to root? What the hell?
She didn't stop. Her single finger became her full palm pressing down, all five fingers splayed along the underside, ballsack snug against her palm.
The velvet touch had him near instant orgasm, but her qi flowed unbroken. As her hand slid lower, pleasure mixed with numb itch—Auntie’s stroking my cock!!! Aaaah!!!
Her palm descended to the ballsack's bottom, fingers nearly probing his asshole.
Before he could process, her middle finger halted at the sack's nadir. The qi thread now linked cock and balls in a glowing line.
Liu Zichu gasped. For a man, cock and balls were too damn sensitive, too fragile—the sting hit hard, making him want to cup them protectively.
He didn't grasp "spiritual qi thread"; he just felt something slithering through tubes in his junk. Panic set in—guys couldn't take hits down there.
"Feel that path," Ling Ru continued, "and memorize it."
She poked. The qi from the frenulum rippled down the vas deferens to his testes, then through internal ducts to the sack's base, ending at her fingertip.
Another poke, and it surged back up. Liu Zichu's eyes widened, teeth gritted—this was weird as fuck, like something burrowing up his legs' midline. Pain? Pleasure? Unscientific either way.
The sting climbed from sack base through those three spots.
All three acupoints lay low on his abdomen, near the navel, marked by her prior qi.
The upward surge linked them seamlessly.
"Got it memorized?" Ling Ru asked.
Liu Zichu blinked, dazed. Yeah, he'd never forget—his cock and balls still throbbed like a worm was wriggling inside.
But what for? What even was this? What was Auntie doing?
He grimaced. "Got it, Auntie. But... why?"
Ling Ru withdrew her hand from his crotch, resting it casually over her own mound, voice cool. "You don't need to know. Just remember it. And practice."
"Uh, practice what?" Liu Zichu was lost.
"Practice running your spiritual qi along that path, over and over."
Liu Zichu: "..."
He blinked twice, went silent, then said dryly, "Auntie... hear me out. What if... I don't actually have spiritual qi?"
"Then pretend you do."
Liu Zichu: "..."
"Pfft—cough cough cough!"
Flat on the bed, he nearly choked on his spit. Pretend? He couldn't keep up with her logic anymore.
He felt downright aggrieved. "But Auntie, aren't you supposed to teach me qi absorption first?"
Her hands on his cock had felt amazing, sure. And after the Qi Sense Pill, he'd figured she'd start his cultivation proper.
Instead... this? Pretending to have qi?
How the hell do you fake that?
Ling Ru shook her head gently, matter-of-fact. "Your aptitude's too poor. No need for qi absorption training."
"..."
Liu Zichu's heart ached. Wearily, he asked, "Okay, Auntie, but how exactly do I 'pretend'?"
"Close your eyes. Meditate. Imagine your qi flowing that route."
His mouth twitched. He shut his eyes and tried.
In the darkness, he sensed his cock—from tip to base to balls, then up from sack bottom to lower belly. The faint stings lingered.
Tracing it, he realized it was less "faking qi" and more memorizing the path.
Retrying, he noticed his bro had gone soft.
Could it not? This bizarre routine killed all his lust.
Ling Ru noted the softening. "How's it going?"
He opened his eyes uncertainly. "Uh... maybe? I think I got it?"
She nodded, eyes fixed on him. "Three days. Practice in every spare moment—meals, rest, even mid-fuck with other women."
Her seriousness left him baffled. He didn't get it, wanted answers, but her earnest gaze made him nod. "Got it, Auntie."
She wouldn't sabotage him; if she wanted to explain, she would have.
He sat up abruptly. His softening cock perked at the sight of her body.
A naked man and woman on one bed—his mouth went dry, arm rising toward those snow-white tits, but halted midway. He looked sheepish.
For many reasons, he dared not touch without permission: favor drop, or a beating.
"A-Auntie, I..."
His cock throbbed visibly, desire for her body plain in his eyes.
Ling Ru watched silently, waiting to see if he'd grope. If he did... would she refuse?
For this scum—who deserved ten thousand deaths—she'd begged that pill master, whose cum in her ass might be absorbed, but whose pistoning cock lingered vividly.
Now, if Liu Zichu touched her... should she deny him?
She said nothing, just watched.
Gathering courage, he said, "Auntie... can I... touch them again? Your breasts, I mean..."
His breath weighed heavy, heart pounding—dreading rejection, craving assent.
"Mm."
No hesitation; the instant he finished, Ling Ru agreed naturally.
Liu Zichu: "..."
He hadn't expected such quick yes. He inhaled deeply—excitement, thrill, dry mouth. Suppressing it hard, lest he faint or nosebleed again. He'd die for real then.
His trembling hand rose toward her tits. He'd groped once before, but this was face-on—watching her breasts and face!
Trembling fingers met soft flesh. The plush yield made his cock leap.
"So soft..."
He murmured unconsciously, eyes glued to the perky pink nipples—cute, alluring.
Both index fingers pressed her nipples, dimpling them, sinking into swaths of breast.
He teased them quivering, watching her face.
Her nipples toyed with so, Ling Ru just looked down silently at the fingers and dents. No expression, no reaction—but her icy poise amid such play thrilled him like never before.
Then his full palm sank in, engulfing as much as it could. Too ample to grasp fully, it sank into warm, cottony bliss. Handfeel perfection.
Fingers splayed wide, kneading her tits—gentle rubs, squeezes, gropes. Growing bolder, her cool eyes quivered faintly, breaths shifting.
She watched him earnestly fondle her chest—not the brutal mauling or crude squeezes she'd imagined, but a... gentleness? Like handling a treasure?
His past victims—virgins or whores—had their tits ravaged without care, bruised black-and-blue for his amusement at their pain. Even his bedmaids bore scars.
Until his fingertips pinched her engorged nipple. Amid gentle kneads, he rolled it tenderly. So sensitive—the nipple so delicate—drawing a soft sound from her.
"Mm-hmm~"
A light moan: twinge of pain, yet pleasurable.
Liu Zichu froze, staring at her.
A faint blush tinted her cool face, red lips parted. That gentle moan amplified his arousal.
"Auntie... you're so beautiful."
Cock rigid, sitting abed groping her tits, beholding her flushed face, parted crimson lips—beauty short-circuiting his brain.
Ling Ru felt no embarrassment at the moan; tits manhandled was routine. Nipples were just too sensitive.
She parted lips to reply—but her icy eyes widened in that instant.
On pure instinct, Liu Zichu leaned in, softly kissing his aunt's lips.
Lips met; her eyes bulged, heart stalling.
She could dodge. She forgot to.
Liu Zichu's mind reeled: so soft, so sweet—Auntie's lips, mine to kiss...
The warmth and feel drove him wild.
But in her eyes, chill indifference shattered into panic and terror. Her beautiful gaze mirrored his so close, lips tingling...
Kiss...
Lip-lock...
Ling Ru: "..."
Ling Ru: "..."
Ling Ru: "!!!"
Liu Zichu thought her lack of refusal meant permission—he was thrilled, even tasting sweetness. He yearned to suckle her lips.
Next instant, bone-chilling cold gripped him.
Her eyes, inches away, were glacial pits brimming with familiar killing intent.
"Hiss..."
Before he reacted, her palm lightly struck his chest—laden with icy qi.
He yelped, flying off the bed to crash against a pillar.
"Ow... hurts..."
On the floor, clutching his chest—pain and frostbite—he was baffled.
But she'd held back; after yelps, he grimaced to his feet, rubbing as he eyed the bed. Why the sudden rage?
Ling Ru had draped her rose-red gown, veiling her form.
Her stunning face was frosty as permafrost, but she avoided his gaze—head down, right hand clamped over the kissed lips. Eyes icy, pupils dilating in clear terror. Rapid breaths heaved her veiled chest, betraying turmoil.
"Auntie?"
Seeing her like this scared him shitless. No reason—surely not just for kissing her?
Her gaze snapped to him, chilling murder in her eyes. He nearly bolted.
She closed them, circulating qi, steadying after dozens of breaths.
Reopening: still cold, but killing intent gone.
Silent stare, then a heavy exhale. Her voice emotionless: "Never touch my lips again. Now... get out!"
His heart pounded. He opened his mouth, but the palpable chill made him grab his clothes, wincing as he slipped out gingerly.
Only after he left did the room's frost dissipate.
Her icy eyes flooded with tangled, nameless emotions. Hand tight on her lips, she sat limply on the bed, body weak and soft.
Finally, eyes shut, she willed herself to forget that moment—the kiss from Liu Zichu.
