The Seductive Shiniang
In the days that followed, every afternoon Wei Yun spent two hours in the back garden attending to Shui Hong Yao—massaging her shoulders, pounding her back, kneading her legs, serving his shiniang with the utmost care. At the same time, he gained no small amount of guidance on cultivation from this beautiful master aunt of his.
Wei Yun discovered that this stunning shiniang was not only peerlessly beautiful with an otherworldly air, but also possessed profoundly vast knowledge of cultivation. Every casual remark she made delved deeper than anything his master, Qing Feng Dao Zhang, had ever taught him.
Wei Yun benefited immensely. Though his Qi Refining progress hadn't advanced much, his grasp of cultivation knowledge and experience grew ever richer.
This only deepened the doubts in Wei Yun's heart. Just where did this shiniang come from?
It was another afternoon. The winter snow had melted, the weather warming as the breath of spring wafted through the Taoist temple.
Wei Yun was kneading Shui Hong Yao's feet, squatting before her with his mind wandering. Her bright red silk skirt was mere inches away, wafting waves of fragrance that set his heart racing.
Shui Hong Yao narrowed her beautiful eyes at the sturdy youth before her, thinking to herself that while the boy had a fine physique and vigor, he still needed some fattening up—lest he collapse after just a few rounds when the time came. With that thought, she made her decision.
She said to Wei Yun, "Yun'er, your Qi Refining progress is far too slow. If you run into danger someday, you won't even be able to protect yourself. How about this—your shiniang will teach you a profoundly exquisite heart method to accelerate your cultivation. You must commit it to memory."
There's such a good thing? Could it be that shiniang was moved by his diligent service? Wei Yun was overjoyed. "This disciple will certainly engrave it in his heart and cultivate diligently!"
"The Emperor arises from the East, majestic like the great sun, illuminating the eight directions and starry rivers..."
"Have you memorized it clearly?" She recited it continuously several times.
"Yes, perfectly memorized." The mere three hundred characters of the incantation weren't long; Wei Yun committed it to memory quickly, recited it silently a few times to confirm no errors, then replied.
Shui Hong Yao nodded. "Practice it for me to see."
Wei Yun followed the incantation, facing the warm early spring sun with hands grasping at empty air. Strands of solar essence drifted down onto him. Moments later, his body was cloaked in a layer of radiant golden rosy cloud robe, dazzlingly brilliant. As the method directed, he opened his mouth and swallowed the solar essence.
In an instant, Wei Yun felt as if his body were ablaze, scorching hot, nearly roasting him alive. The discomfort intensified; he hurriedly ceased the technique.
Wiping away cold sweat, Wei Yun said in alarm, "Shiniang, this technique... it's so strange."
"Ah." A smile played on Shui Hong Yao's melon seed face, her cherry lips parting slightly. "Nothing strange about it. Profound techniques are like that."
"Oh..." Wei Yun remained dubious.
He could never have imagined that Shui Hong Yao intended to fatten him up for the slaughter—to reap greater benefits when the time came.
"In any case, persist with it diligently, no slacking. Now, come rub shiniang's feet."
Shui Hong Yao sat in the chair, extending one slender, beautiful leg toward him. The leg was concealed beneath her silk skirt and wrapped in plain white trousers.
The fabric was fine quality, clearly imported from the distant Yin Yue Dynasty tens of thousands of li away.
Wei Yun squatted before her, removed her embroidered shoe, and grasped her tender white foot, kneading it gently. The foot was soft and warm, a faint foot fragrance assaulting his nose.
Wei Yun inhaled deeply, banishing his earlier doubts as he savored the touch of his beautiful shiniang's tender foot.
While enjoying the youth's service, Shui Hong Yao plotted inwardly. Soon, that old man would refine the Return Origin Pill. Once her vital energy recovered, there'd be no need to linger in this rundown place. After recovery, she could casually drain this boy's primal essence, advancing her strength further...
At the thought, a trace of disdain—as if everything were firmly in her grasp—flickered across Shui Hong Yao's face.
Wei Yun was immersed in the delightful task of massaging his beautiful shiniang's feet.
"Oh... Yun'er." Shui Hong Yao's heart fluttered from her seat on the chair. Suddenly, she said, "My neck is a bit sore. Help shiniang rub it." She decided to give the boy a taste first, to ensnare him.
Wei Yun rose and moved behind Shui Hong Yao, placing his hands gently on her slender, white neck. The skin was silky smooth like satin. As he kneaded, feeling his shiniang's swan-like neck, his lower body stiffened involuntarily.
Shui Hong Yao narrowed her eyes slightly. "Mmm... a bit lower, even lower... right there..."
Wei Yun's hands followed her guidance downward, past her collarbones to her ample bosom, kneading lightly. Though his beautiful shiniang's massive breasts were right there, he only dared circle the edges, not venturing into the breast flesh proper—fearing her displeasure and punishment.
Even so, Wei Yun felt boundless pleasure. This wasn't just any woman—it was his stunningly beautiful shiniang... His breathing grew heavy, hot breaths spraying the back of her neck.
Shui Hong Yao felt warmth and itchiness on her neck, especially the masculine yang energy emanating from Wei Yun, stirring ripples in her heart.
She had seen countless men, particularly fond of teasing pure youths like this—always toying with them whenever she encountered one.
Since her injury, she hadn't met a boy like Wei Yun; it was like rain after a long drought, reigniting her desire to play.
Wei Yun's hands circled her bosom, fingertips brushing tender flesh, sinking in then rebounding. He sensed heat rising from her body. Though early spring brought chill, this warmth told him his shiniang was aroused.
"Shift a bit more, lower, to the left... right there... ah..." Shui Hong Yao let out a delicate cry.
Wei Yun's hands, guided by her words, reached the center of her chest, separated by her fox-fur cloak, covering those ample breasts—fingertips precisely grazing her nipples. This sent a numb and tingling sensation through his beautiful shiniang's body.
Shiniang is actually letting me grope her tits!
Wei Yun's mind reeled, scarcely believing it. His shiniang's thoughts were ever-changing, truly inscrutable.
Bolstered, Wei Yun boldly kneaded, hands covering her full breasts, rubbing back and forth. Shiniang's tits were soft and tender with astonishing elasticity—pressing down effortlessly, hands nearly burying in the flesh, only to rebound upon release.
As he kneaded and she gazed with blurred, seductive eyes, both aflame with desire, footsteps approached. Wei Yun froze; Shui Hong Yao rose unhurriedly.
Qing Feng Dao Zhang strode briskly into the back garden, eyes widening at Shui Hong Yao kicking Wei Yun flying, hands on hips, slender finger pointing accusingly. "I told you to buy rice cakes in the city, yet you bring me these oily fried things! Don't you know I can't eat such heat-inducing food? Are you trying to kill me?!"
"Shiniang, I was wrong. I'll go buy rice cakes right now," Wei Yun said, pale as death, scrambling up.
"What is this about?" Qing Feng Dao Zhang asked upon entering. "Yun'er, why are you here?"
He strictly forbade disciples from his back garden. This little disciple daring to enter ignited nameless fury—for him, Shui Hong Yao was his forbidden fruit; no one could touch her, not even look.
Before Wei Yun could speak, Shui Hong Yao raged like a shrew. "Look at your disciple—so unreliable. Might as well kick him out!"
Qing Feng Dao Zhang questioned them; Wei Yun answered fully.
Hearing their fabricated tale, Qing Feng Dao Zhang said, "Little Twelve, leave first."
"Yes, Master." Wei Yun hurried out, thinking inwardly, Shiniang is truly a vixen.
Once gone, Qing Feng Dao Zhang said, "Little Twelve's character is decent. No cultivation talent, but don't take it to heart."
"Hmph." Shui Hong Yao remained displeased.
"My darling, barring accidents, tonight I'll complete the Return Origin Pill. You'll recover fully then."
"I hope so."
Qing Feng Dao Zhang pleaded pitifully, "I... I want to drink..."
"You old lecher..."
"Have pity on me..."
Qing Feng Dao Zhang lay on the ground; Shui Hong Yao hiked her skirt and squatted over his face...
Wei Yun returned to his quarters unscathed. He bought rice cakes in the city and prepared a special gift for shiniang, planning to deliver it tomorrow.
He both loved and feared shiniang; hated and feared master. Recalling shiniang squatting on master's face to feed him urine soured his mood.
That night, Qing Feng Dao Zhang refined pills in his quiet chamber while Shui Hong Yao waited in her room.
She urgently hoped for success. If not, she'd have to leave despite her grave injuries—pressing matters awaited.
Her survival was luck; this old Daoist's aid and pill refining, though merely an outer disciple of Medicine King Sect, his talent surpassed most inner disciples.
Thus, he was her hope for recovery.
Medicine King Sect, one of the Three Great Teachings and Seven Sects, excelled in healing. Her heavy wounds required their spirit pills.
By late night, a melodious chime echoed, audible throughout Xuanhu Temple.
Revives the freshly dead; heals severe cultivator injuries. Overflowing fragrance, faint silver glow.
Qing Feng Dao Zhang laughed heartily, cradling a small jade vial as he entered her room. "I've finally succeeded—succeeded!"
"Quick, let me see!" Shui Hong Yao's beautiful eyes gleamed as she rose to meet him, extending a pale, slender hand.
His face ashen, Qing Feng Dao Zhang handed over the vial, wiping sweat. "Thanks to those talisman bills from Wei Xiao replenishing my true essence in time, or I couldn't have endured!"
Countless precious herbs plus three talisman bills yielded this high-ranking Medicine King Sect spirit pill—the Return Origin Pill.
He brimmed with pride. Refining it was immensely difficult; few in the entire sect could guarantee success. An outer disciple like him succeeding—after countless failures—qualified him for inner sect promotion.
One pill revived the newly dead or healed a cultivator's grave wounds—truly a spirit pill wonder.
Qing Feng planned another to cure his own hidden ailment, then petition Medicine King Sect for inner sect entry. Immortal path? Not impossible!
Shui Hong Yao poured out a faintly silver-glowing pill into her palm, fragrance overflowing.
Overjoyed, it was authentic Medicine King Sect Return Origin Pill. Slightly inferior quality, but potent enough for her wounds.
Without a word, she swallowed it and sat cross-legged in meditation.
After a long while, Shui Hong Yao slowly opened her eyes—icy cold, shooting twin golden beams. Beside her, Qing Feng Dao Zhang jolted, staring as if seeing her anew.
"Darling, your injuries are healed?"
Her eyes softened to their usual tenderness. Smiling, "This pill is miraculous. I'm fully recovered—thank you."
"Darling, just now your eyes..."
"Oh, probably the pill's medicinal power."
"Of course."
Qing Feng thought it made sense. He knew his wife had no cultivation; how could she possess the golden pupil technique of high realms? Must be the pill.
"Lately, Fengwu City Lord sent word: demons plague the city, likely many—the rat demon nest from Great East Mountain. Tomorrow, I'll lead the disciples to the city to exterminate them. Darling, rest well here; I'll return soon."
Shui Hong Yao frowned. "Alone? I'm a bit scared."
"No worry. I'll leave Little Twelve; his weak cultivation suits errands. Whatever you crave, have him prepare."
"Little Twelve..." Shui Hong Yao said coolly, "The boy's clumsy but diligent. Fine."
Qing Feng didn't notice the peculiar glint in her eyes.
...
The next morning, Qing Feng Dao Zhang, dust whisk in hand, gathered all disciples in the grand hall.
Once assembled, he announced, "Lately, demons have ravaged Fengwu City's people. Xuanhu Temple, Medicine King Sect's outpost here, bears the duty to guard the city. We cultivators exist to exorcise demons, uphold justice! Your daily cultivation and accumulation will shine now!"
The disciples stood solemnly in the hall.
Qing Feng continued, "All except Little Twelve guarding the temple—follow me to the city and slay the demons!"
"Yes, Master!" they chorused.
As they exited, before departing, Qing Feng told Wei Yun, "Yun'er, guard the temple and tend your shiniang. Her temper's odd; if she scolds you, don't take it to heart."
Though he'd caught Wei Yun in the garden before, her scolding dispelled suspicion. He didn't believe anything happened between them.
"Rest assured, Master. This disciple will watch the temple well and care for shiniang properly," Wei Yun thumped his chest.
"Good." Qing Feng nodded approvingly, leading his eleven disciples away.
No sooner had they gone than Wei Yun dashed to the back garden, rice cakes in one hand, his special gift for Shui Hong Yao in the other.
On the garden swing, the beautiful shiniang lounged in thin red garb, swaying gently. Her watery eyes and smiling lips exuded charm; bare feet dangled playfully,Gauze skirt fluttering in the breeze—utterly captivating.
Though the air was still crisp, Shui Hong Yao was unaffected by the weather.
Seeing Wei Yun, she smiled. "Yun'er, why so rushed?"
"Master and the others went to the city to subdue demons—won't return for three to five days. These days, this disciple will tend shiniang. Oh, right—this gift from the city for you."
"Open it; let shiniang see."
Wei Yun opened the rice cake box, pinched a piece, and fed it to her. Shui Hong Yao ate with parted lips, smiling. "Mmm, very sweet. What's in the other box?"
Wei Yun opened the embroidered brocade box, revealing two pairs of long silk stockings—one black, one white—exquisitely novel.
"This is..." Shui Hong Yao was mildly surprised; she'd seen such things.
Wei Yun explained, "Called 'silk stockings,' woven from black and white silkworm silk. Terribly expensive—only Yin Yue Dynasty produces them continent-wide. A single pair costs over ten taels of silver! Only wealthy noblewomen wear them. I specially asked Father to procure two pairs for shiniang—you'll look stunning in them."
Da Ming Dynasty excelled in herbs and medicine but lagged in silk crafts compared to Yin Yue Dynasty, one of the Ten Great Nations. There, women outnumbered men; beauty-obsessed, their textiles, garb, and adornments thrived with novelties yearly.
"Oh?" Shui Hong Yao's eyes brimmed with spring warmth, laughing. "Silk stockings are lovely. Yun'er has heart—now help shiniang put them on."
Wei Yun eagerly unpacked a pair, squatting by the swing to grasp her tender foot, sliding the black silk stocking up her leg to the thigh root. In the process, he relished her slender leg's silky touch.
The black silk stockings accentuated her legs' length. Shui Hong Yao stroked them, silk gliding over skin.
After admiring, she asked, "Yun'er, how's your Swallow Sun Great Law cultivation?"
"Ah, this."
Wei Yun's mind raced. He'd tried her taught method, but it scorched him—flame-like qi raging within, unbearable. He couldn't continue.
Not stupid, he sensed shiniang's ill intent—some hidden scheme. He shelved it, diligently practicing Qi Nourishing Art. Perhaps influenced, he'd produced true qi, opening two or three acupoints.
"This disciple has cultivated diligently, but my talent is dull—no great progress..."
"Oh?" Shui Hong Yao checked his pulse, nodding. "Not bad. For your obedience, Yun'er... what reward do you want?"
Wei Yun gulped visibly, eyes burning. "Yun'er wants no reward—just to stay by shiniang's side always."
Shui Hong Yao's eyes watery, locked on his fervent gaze, seductively: "Your master won't return for three to five days. What should we do in these three to five days?"
Her eyes misty,Charming soul-stealing.
The hint unmistakable, Wei Yun boldly puffed his chest. "This disciple wants to make shiniang happy—send her to the heavens."
"How will you make shiniang happy?"
"Like that night with Master."
Shui Hong Yao giggled. "Your master couldn't make me happy."
"But this disciple can."
"Not afraid of death?"
"To die under shiniang's skirt—this disciple willingly."
Wei Yun was utterly bewitched; these words weren't impulsive. Such opportunity—how not seize it?
Master? Forgotten!
For one night with shiniang—even caught and beaten—worth it!
Shui Hong Yao laughed merrily. "Then what are you waiting for?"
These imperial-edict words ignited him. Wei Yun impatiently embraced the exquisitely charming Shui Hong Yao.
Her soft boneless body, intoxicating fragrance overwhelming.
His heart pounded wildly—beauty in arms, wish fulfilled!
Days of toil—worth it!
Shui Hong Yao let him hold her, lips kissing her face and body ceaselessly. This moment, her creation—long planned.
She planned her secret art to harvest his primal yang essence fully, then depart for her affairs.
Now, only they two in the temple—one man, one woman, dry tinder and fierce fire. Here was their world!