Chapter 16
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 16
Chapter Title: Sore Finger
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"Hoo... mmph..."
Senior Disciple steadied her trembling legs and slowly rose to her feet.
Her mouth was filled with the fishy taste of semen, so she clamped her lips shut tight, exhaling only in rough bursts.
Her flushed cheeks were puffed out like ripe peaches.
She glanced around uneasily.
She clearly wanted to spit out the hot, sticky mess right away, but this was no ordinary place—it was the sacred ground of the Wudang Sect.
There was no way she could carelessly spew a man's seed in the courtyard of the hallowed Purple Cloud Pavilion.
Worried someone might see, Senior Disciple scanned her surroundings with tense eyes.
Fortunately, there were no signs of people, but even the rustle of leaves in the wind made her shoulders twitch.
After a moment's hesitation, she seemed to steel herself, turning her back to me and glancing over her shoulder.
Gulp—
In the quiet air, the heavy sound of something sliding down her throat rang out starkly.
Senior Disciple's slender white neck bulged and rippled dramatically.
She was pushing every last remnant of my desire—the fishy, hot lump—down beyond her throat.
"Hoo..."
Soon, she turned back to me.
Her eyes glistened pinkish as she wiped the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand.
She licked away the single strand of silver thread clinging to her lips, then furrowed her brow slightly as if she'd downed a shot of strong liquor, murmuring softly.
"Feeling better now?"
"...Yeah, I think so."
Her question carried both concern and a subtle seductiveness.
Still lost in the lingering haze of pleasure, I answered in a dazed voice.
"Then... shouldn't you put that away now? It's getting chilly out."
That snapped me back to reality.
I hurriedly looked down.
My sash had come completely undone, dragging on the ground, and my pants had slipped down to my ankles, leaving me in a pathetic state.
And there, in between, my still-glistening member shone obscenely.
"Ah..."
Startled, I frantically pulled up my pants.
As my hands fumbled to tie the sash, a cool shadow fell over us.
"So this is where you were."
My heart dropped like a stone.
Turning my head, I saw Peng Soyeon standing there.
She looked down at us with her signature haughty gaze.
Thankfully, the dark tree shade and Senior Disciple's back blocked me from full view, but cold sweat still trickled down my spine.
"Oh, Soyeon..."
Senior Disciple quickly masked her surprise and turned around with a calm smile.
Her smooth movement naturally positioned her in front of me, blocking the line of sight with seasoned grace.
"How'd you know we were here?"
"Someone said they saw you heading this way."
Peng Soyeon answered indifferently, peeking at me over Senior Disciple's shoulder.
Her sharp eyes seemed to graze my waist, freezing me solid.
Fortunately, she showed no particular interest and turned her gaze back to Senior Disciple.
"What's going on?"
Senior Disciple asked gently.
Peng Soyeon crossed her arms and smirked slyly.
That smile dripped with the arrogance befitting the young lady of a prestigious clan.
"Well, the small fry seem all cleared out now... Only the real late-stage contenders are left."
She stepped closer, whispering into Senior Disciple's ear.
"I was curious what brilliant strategy Mount Hua's cooking up. Came to spy a bit."
Peng Soyeon's eyes gleamed coldly in the moonlight.
Her presence pressed down on us heavily, threateningly.
"Spying? That's beneath the young lady of the Peng Clan."
Senior Disciple maintained her leisurely smile, elegantly waving her hand through the air as if unfurling a fan.
Her voice flowed like water, washing away the humid heat that had filled the space moments before.
"What more preparation is there to do here? Martial arts aren't sandcastles built overnight. If you've put in the bone-grinding effort day after day, reaping the fitting rewards is only natural, isn't it?"
Senior Disciple gazed at Peng Soyeon with softly curved eyes.
It was the relaxed poise of a master, reassuring her opponent while subtly asserting dominance.
"What about you? Has the Peng Clan devised some special strategy?"
"Strategy? Ha!"
Peng Soyeon scoffed, clenching her fist.
The aura radiating from her entire body made the air around us crackle.
"Complicated stuff like that's not my thing. My strategy's simple: be greater. Be stronger. Crush everything in my way to dust."
Her words were straightforward, but the weight behind them was anything but light.
It embodied the Peng Clan's creed of revering raw power.
"Hoo..."
Senior Disciple widened her eyes in mock surprise, then let out a soft chuckle.
"Bold words. But even without going all out like that, I don't see anyone in this tournament who could handle you. You're already overwhelmingly dominant, aren't you?"
"If my senior sister says so, I guess it doesn't feel bad."
Peng Soyeon puffed up at the praise, but her eyes burned with even deeper, darker ambition.
"But no. I need to be greater. This isn't enough."
She paused, glancing toward the training grounds.
Her gaze held something beyond mere victory lust.
"Starting tomorrow, my big brother..."
Her voice sank low.
"The Peng Clan's young lord, Peng Jeongbo, is coming to watch me."
The next morning, the dawn air on Wudang Mountain bit like ice.
The bulletin board in front of Purple Cloud Pavilion already had the main tournament brackets posted, drawing a massive crowd that turned the area into a frenzy.
Senior Disciple pushed through the throng and returned to relay the matchups to me.
"You're lucky, Yi Yi. Heaven itself is aiding Mount Hua."
Senior Disciple sighed in relief as she set down her teacup.
"You're drawn in the furthest bracket from Peng Soyeon. If both of you advance smoothly, you'd only meet in the finals."
"The finals... That's still a long way off."
Relief washed over me, but so did a heavy tension pressing on my shoulders.
To reach the finals, I'd have to overcome countless formidable foes.
But even more nagging was the fact that I might ultimately face that colossal wall named Peng Soyeon.
Boom—! Rumble!
It was then.
A massive roar shook the lodging windows like thunder.
Thinking it was a storm, I peeked outside, but the sky was clear without a single cloud.
The sound came from the training grounds.
"That's..."
"Soyeon's already started, it seems."
Senior Disciple's eyes narrowed.
Anyone could tell those ferocious explosions were the Peng Clan's saber arts.
And they sounded even more vicious and sharp than yesterday.
It went beyond merely subduing an opponent for a spar—it reeked of intent to annihilate.
"Pouring out full power already... Won't she tire herself out? It's only the preliminaries."
"Likely. Inner energy doesn't spring up endlessly like a fountain. Force it like that, and she might exhaust herself before the semifinals, let alone the finals."
"Then why be so desperate...?"
I couldn't understand.
If victory was the goal, the smart play was to conserve strength and advance steadily.
Someone of Peng Soyeon's caliber had no need to unleash such destructive force from the start.
Senior Disciple moistened her lips with her teacup and whispered softly.
"You heard it yesterday too. The Peng Clan's young lord is arriving today."
Her gaze fixed on the sky over the training grounds.
"The Peng Clan worships power. She's probably desperate to prove her worth in front of her brother."
"So a normal win wouldn't satisfy her?"
To my question, Senior Disciple set down her cup and stared out the window.
The distant booms grew ever more intense.
Like the roar of a enraged beast.
"Probably. Before other martial artists' skills fully mature—when their bones and muscles are still unripe—that's when the Peng Clan wields its most absolute might."
Senior Disciple's voice sank bitterly, like tea steeped too long.
Her eyes reached beyond the scenery outside, groping at some distant point in the past.
"Not intricate techniques or profound inner arts, but crushing with innate frames and overwhelming muscle... As a child, you can't bridge that raw gap. Even parrying with skill, the moment it connects, your bones rattle and your sword bounces away. No countering it."
She slowly rubbed the rim of her teacup with her slender fingers.
A touch laced with regret.
"Look back at Dragon-Phoenix Tournament history: not once has a direct Peng bloodline entrant failed to win. It's an unwritten rule, etched into the minds of all in the jianghu as pure terror."
"Are they that strong?"
"Eight years ago, I couldn't overcome that wall either. My finals opponent was that girl's brother, Peng Jeongbo. Back then, he was... like a monster in human skin. No matter how brilliantly my Plum Blossom Sword tried to bloom, before that brutish saber art... it was just pulverized."
"Does that make the Peng Clan the world's best?"
Senior Disciple bit her lip, unable to continue for a moment.
"No. The Peng Clan is always haunted by unease. As martial artists grow, their simple, brutal dominance fades against fluid variations and deep inner power. They know bone-deep that the day their overwhelming force fails will come."
She turned her gaze to me.
Her eyes were deep and profound, like peering into an abyss.
"That's why they must, more than anyone, etch the image of 'absolute powerhouse' into the stage of the Dragon-Phoenix Tournament—while they still shine brightest. That obsession, the conviction that only then can they survive the merciless jianghu of the survival of the fittest... That's what drives them mad."