Virginity Lost! (Middle)
Yang Zhurou said angrily, "He told us we both had calamities in store, that my fate was full of hardships, and that around age thirty I'd face a major ordeal. He said to just let things take their natural course. That fortune-teller claimed it was because I was abandoned by my family as a child that my destiny carried such malice, but if I could survive the calamity, happiness would follow."
After speaking, Yang Zhurou glanced at the quietly sleeping Xu Ruizhi, and suddenly, as if realizing something, her eyes widened in disbelief. She murmured, "Could it be..."
Yang Zhurou's face paled, her eyes glazing over as she lost herself in thought.
At that moment, Song Lianwei, lying on the bed, suddenly coughed a few times.
Snapping out of her shock, Yang Zhurou hurried over, helping Song Lianwei sit up and lean against the headboard. She asked worriedly, "Lianwei, are you okay?"
Song Lianwei looked at Yang Zhurou and weakly shook her head to show she was fine.
"Sigh, that old fortune-teller said your fate was unique, that ordinary people couldn't get involved with you. But back then, you didn't believe him, and the result..."
Song Lianwei let out a soft sigh, gazing out the window with distant eyes, as if recalling the events of the past.
Her mother had just died from AIDS. For years before that, her mother had hidden her illness from her, afraid of passing it on, working quietly outside to pay for her schooling.
A few years later, right before she started junior high second year, her mother's AIDS flared up fatally, and she passed away.
During that time, Song Lianwei was deeply depressed and helpless, drowning day by day in grief's shadow. She couldn't accept her parents leaving her one after another—she even wanted to die.
In that stifling mindset, just as she entered junior high second year, she met that old fortune-teller.
"I remember you refused to accept your fate back then. So in junior high third year and college third year, you dated two boyfriends, both from good families—not ordinary ones at all. But sadly, they both met bizarre, untimely deaths."
Yang Zhurou sighed softly.
"Not one lasted more than ten days. Even your first love—Lin Zixuan, uh... I guess he counts as your first love? On the fifth day of dating, before you even held hands, he dropped dead in the middle of the night while cramming for exams."
Yang Zhurou gave her a complex look.
Turning to glance at the quietly sleeping Xu Ruizhi on the bed, Yang Zhurou's expression grew grave and pensive. She shook her head and continued, "And that college guy—he chased you so passionately. Over the past five years, you refused to believe the old fortune-teller, thinking Lin Zixuan's death was just bad luck. So you agreed to date him for a bit. On the sixth day, you finally held hands."
Yang Zhurou paused, her gaze complicated as she looked at Song Lianwei. "The next day, that guy..."
Halfway through, Yang Zhurou realized Song Lianwei had just woken up and shouldn't hear anything too shocking. She swallowed the rest.
She'd let so much slip partly because of Song Lianwei's stubborn streak—if she didn't spell it out, her friend might try suicide again. And partly out of anger, frustration at her pigheadedness. Was offing herself over some rich kid worth it? Even if it was only part of the reason, Yang Zhurou felt it was utterly unworthy!
Changing the subject, Yang Zhurou said coolly, "If you're still set on suicide, I can't stop you. You go first, and I'll follow right after!"
Song Lianwei looked up at her words, staring blankly, lips trembling but no words coming out.
"After we're gone, Ruizhi becomes an orphan... Whatever. Our inheritance's enough to keep him fed and housed for life anyway. He's a bit spoiled, can't even fend for himself—we'll leave him to figure it out. With Ruizhi's personality, he'll adapt quick. Might take a bit at first, sure, since his closest people are gone."
Yang Zhurou said it all casually, like it was no big deal.
Tears blurring her vision, Song Lianwei shook her head frantically.
"No... don't!"
Her hoarse, pained voice reached Yang Zhurou's ears. Seeing her friend cry, Yang Zhurou felt a pang of pity.
She sighed, patting Song Lianwei's shoulder gently. "Alright, alright. No suicide. We gotta stick around to see Ruizhi off to college. Can't just leave now."
"Wahhh~"
Hearing that, Song Lianwei cried even harder, as if venting a decade of grievances, sobbing in hiccupping gasps that tugged at the heart.
Overhearing his mom and Aunt Song's conversation while cultivating nearby, Xu Ruizhi now understood Aunt Song's past.
Three boyfriends already? It stung a little, but hearing she'd never gotten intimate with any eased his mind.
Male possessiveness ran deep, after all.
Except for guys with weird fetishes.
Plus, Xu Ruizhi figured that fortune-teller had real skills—too spot-on otherwise.
A successor to the I Ching, maybe!? How else could he nail it like that? Fortune-telling hitting three or five out of ten was already impressive, but this guy pegged Yang Zhurou and Song Lianwei's fates perfectly.
This world's way more fascinating than I thought!
Just then, a burning heat surged from his lower body. His heart stirred—Finally ready for dual cultivation.
Xu Ruizhi followed the dual cultivation steps from the manual. Soon, a warm current filled his body, gradually warming him up.
"So hot!" Xu Ruizhi gritted his teeth, cheeks flushing, his lower heat stiffening hard.
The warm current rampaged through him, scouring his meridians. Every inch of skin trembled, on the verge of splitting. After several passes, it converged on the dragon below.
As the dragon swelled massively, the inner heat intensified.
It's finally happening. Xu Ruizhi thought excitedly.
Just one last step to Qi Refining realm—then he'd be a true cultivator.
...
After soothing Song Lianwei until her mood settled, Yang Zhurou relaxed. "Get some sleep. You just woke up—still too weak, need rest!"
"Mm." Song Lianwei nodded, slowly closing her eyes and falling silent.
Seeing Song Lianwei's paper-white face, Yang Zhurou sighed softly, stood, and stretched. Xu Ruizhi watched her sweater-clad peaks jiggle with the motion. He couldn't hold back—his eyes turned bloodshot, throat bobbing as he swallowed. Get in bed already! Come on!
Yang Zhurou didn't notice her son's odd vibe. She got up to turn off the light and sleep, but her phone rang, shattering the quiet.
"Hello? What? Where's Xiaofei? Oh, got it—I'm coming right now!"
Hanging up, she glanced at Song Lianwei, who had her eyes open in surprise. Grabbing her scooter keys, Yang Zhurou said, "You sleep. Work emergency—gotta handle it as department manager. Back in an hour or two. Don't worry, office is close to the hospital—ten minutes round trip."
She turned to Song Lianwei. "Lights out?"
Song Lianwei slowly shook her head.
Yang Zhurou waved, left the room, and shut the door behind her.
Song Lianwei watched the door close, shut her eyes, and soon drifted off.
...
"..."
Xu Ruizhi was stunned. A perfect chance to claim Mom, ruined by this intruder.
Damn it—the second time! Is heaven screwing with me!?
What now? Desire gnawed at his mind, the dragon below throbbing hot, twitching like it wanted to burst free.
No way! At this rate, I'll suffer qi deviation—light case, no cultivation for three years, permanent damage to body and foundation... Heavy case, meridians shattered!
Eyes blood-red, desire raged like a flood beast.
He gritted his teeth, flung off the blanket, and slid naked from the bed. The dragon stood exposed, proud and scorching, veins bulging, fierce and terrifying—mirroring his inner turmoil.
He'd ditched his underwear earlier, leaving just a light short-sleeve tee.
He approached Song Lianwei's bed, gazing at her. Eyes hesitating briefly, but desire urged him on. He lunged at the stunning beauty...
His trembling hand lifted the blanket corner...
Xu Ruizhi uncovered the blanket over her ankles, revealing snow-white, slender jade feet.
Round and crystalline like fine jade, they glowed warmly under the light.
Seeing those pale, delicate, cream-like feet, Xu Ruizhi's breath quickened.
He swallowed, right hand tentatively touching her ankle.
His fingers met silky-smooth skin, like shelled egg—irresistibly touchable.
Toying with the lovely ankle, feeling its bounce, softness, tenderness.
No wonder ancients hid women's feet as private—no accident there.
Of course, feudal crap killed progress; such views couldn't last.
Xu Ruizhi glanced at Song Lianwei—still asleep. Relaxing a bit, he pressed close, lifting his dragon against her ankle.
"Hiss..." He sucked in air; the soft, elastic feel from her foot fueled his frenzy.
Unable to resist, he pressed her jade feet together, thrust his hips—the dragon plunged into the gap...
Bliss surged from there; Xu Ruizhi groaned.
The tender feet quivered under the impacts. He felt like he might float away, body tingling, waves of pleasure drowning him. He hummed and grunted involuntarily.
...
Moments later, as Xu Ruizhi savored the thrusts nearing climax...
Song Lianwei stirred awake, blinking hazily at him, confused. Then she looked down—her feet clamping his thick, long thing, pistoning wildly.
Deep in ecstasy, on the brink, Xu Ruizhi saw her wake. He jolted, froze, and pulled back.
Song Lianwei's pale face flushed with shame and fury. In her raspy voice, she glared. "You..."
Her scolding cooled his lust a fraction; his desire-reddened eyes cleared. Guilty and awkward, he said, "S-Sorry."
Disappointment and sorrow flashed in Song Lianwei's eyes. She never imagined this child doing something so vile.
Seeing his guilty face, she ached for him—but disappointment and despair dominated.
This was the boy she and Zhurou raised—doing this? Such a letdown!
Xu Ruizhi panicked at her disappointed look. No—if this goes on, I'm done for life!
Teeth clenched, he went all-in.
Song Lianwei watched, awaiting his words. Mustering courage, Xu Ruizhi said, "Aunt Song, it's like this..."
Xu Ruizhi spilled everything about the Huangdi Neijing—except his designs on Yang Zhurou. He claimed ignorance it was dual cultivation, thinking it ordinary immortal path stuff. Only mid-cultivation did he realize...
Then, he couldn't stop—the process was locked in...
Song Lianwei listened, eyes full of distrust. Such an excuse? Not even a ghost would buy it.
Sensing her doubt, Xu Ruizhi skipped excuses and summoned the Huangdi Neijing from his mind.
Golden light beamed from his forehead, spreading to envelop the room. Under the glow, a yellowed ancient book floated slowly from his brow, hovering in midair.
Seeing the tome emerge from his forehead, Song Lianwei's pupils shrank in shock.
Impossible!
His forehead birthing a book? Utterly unbelievable.
Rubbing her eyes to confirm, she reeled inwardly.
"You... how... how did you... do that...?" Stifling throat tears, her raspy voice strained the words.
Xu Ruizhi endured the wild inner heat while mind-controlling the book—agonizing. Hearing her, he shouted, "Return!"
With his sharp command, the hovering Huangdi Neijing shot back over his head and into his skull.
"That's the Huangdi Neijing—it recognizes me as master. But without cultivation base, I can't fully control it yet."
As he spoke, he grunted, the heat escalating—the dragon near to bursting.
Song Lianwei eyed his thick, long cock, blushing faintly. Then, remembering something, she looked away, avoiding it.
"So... now... what... do you... do?" Her voice raspy, low, trembling—eyes averted.
Seeing her like that, joy flooded Xu Ruizhi.
She doesn't hate me—just mad!
Feigning grievance, eyes softening tenderly, his voice husky: "I... don't know. But if it goes on, it'll hurt you. So, I'll leave."
He moved to get clothes and exit.
"W-Wait!" Aunt Song's raspy voice called from behind.
He turned.
The blanket flung back—Aunt Song lay naked, snow-white peaks towering firm and bouncy, cherry tips ripe and inviting. Long legs bared, slim waist supple, skin snow-pale and silky.
Song Lianwei saw him staring, blushed, and said, "Come... on then!"
Xu Ruizhi, faced with such a sight, reignited his fire. Staring at her crime-tempting face, he roared and pounced.