Villain: Manipulating the Heroines into hating the Protagonist

Chapter 1006: The Blindfolded Fairy

The sprawling, heavily fortified metropolis of Abyssal Pearl City was a bustling nexus of immense wealth, cutthroat mercantile politics, and chaotic martial skirmishes. Situated on the affluent eastern shores of Sea-Moon Island, the city was a jewel under the direct, overarching jurisdiction of the Myriad Ocean Palace. High above the chaotic streets, hidden away in the most exclusive, heavily warded residential tier of the city, stood a lavish, sprawling estate that belonged to the Golden Tide Consortium.

This specific property, an architectural marvel of white jade and polished profound-sea timber, was a highly restricted safe house that Shangguan Wan’er had secretly acquired decades ago under a flawless proxy identity. Because it was completely disconnected from the main branch ledgers currently overseen by her arrogant cousin Shangguan Li, it provided the absolute perfect, untraceable sanctuary for Wang Jian and his three breathtaking, mature companions.

Inside the estate’s most opulent, sun-drenched master pavilion, the atmosphere was a picture of extreme, decadent luxury and absolute, unadulterated comfort.

Wang Jian lounged effortlessly on a massive, curved divan covered in plush, silver-threaded spirit-silk cushions. Over the past five years of relentless, resource-heavy cultivation and the continuous, potent dual cultivation with the thousands of captured beauties from the Ice Heart Palace back at his hidden island, his power had surged dramatically. He no longer hovered at the mid-level; he had successfully, firmly established his foundation at the absolute Peak of the Late Stage of the Core Formation Realm. His dark, muscular physique radiated a deep, terrifyingly dense vitality that made the air around him hum with suppressed power.

He was currently enjoying the unparalleled, devoted pampering of three women who possessed the strength of Half-Step Nascent Soul experts, yet eagerly performed the duties of common, slutty maids for his sole pleasure.

Shangguan Wan’er, Hua Yimei, and Mu Lianhua were dressed in incredibly elegant, highly expensive traditional cultivation robes that they had worn to infiltrate the city. However, within the absolute privacy of this warded pavilion, they had heavily modified their attire to suit their master’s perverted tastes. The sashes of their robes were completely undone, the fine layers of silk pushed off their shoulders to explicitly expose the massive, incredibly soft, and heavy globes of their bare breasts to the warm, fragrant air of the room.

“Master, try this one. It is a Lunar-Dew Grape, imported directly from the inner sanctums,” Shangguan Wan’er murmured softly, her voice dripping with profound, honeyed devotion.

She knelt gracefully on the cushions right beside his hip. Her emerald green silk robes pooled around her waist, completely freeing her incredibly sexy, curvaceous, and plump hourglass figure. She picked up a glowing, translucent purple grape from a jade platter. Instead of feeding it directly to him, she placed the plump, chilled fruit directly into the deep, mesmerizing canyon of her massive, bare cleavage. She pressed her incredibly soft, heavy breasts together, securely trapping the spiritual fruit between her abundant flesh.

She leaned over Wang Jian’s torso, her beautiful, aristocratic face flushed with a deep, masochistic heat as she offered her chest to his mouth. “Eat it from your humble servant, Master.”

Wang Jian chuckled, a dark, vibrating rumble of deep satisfaction. He lifted his head slightly, opening his mouth to playfully bite down on the spiritual fruit trapped in her cleavage. As he pulled the grape from her skin, his tongue deliberately, wetly lashed across the inner slopes of her massive breasts, capturing a drop of the fruit’s sweet juice that had spilled onto her very fair skin.

“Delicious, Wan’er,” Wang Jian praised, chewing the burst of pure, refreshing spiritual energy. He reached his large, calloused hand up, aggressively grabbing the heavy, soft flesh of her left breast. He squeezed the massive globe with bruising, possessive strength, his thumb roughly flicking her tight pink nipple. “But not nearly as sweet as you.”

Shangguan Wan’er let out a sharp, breathless moan, her pale blue eyes fluttering shut as her body trembled under his dominating touch. She melted against his side, perfectly content to be his living, breathing fruit platter.

On his left, Hua Yimei was positioned behind him. The mature, former Sect Leader was using her incredibly soft, highly skilled hands to deeply massage his broad, muscular shoulders. Her regal crimson robes hung loosely around her elbows, allowing her massive, incredibly bouncy breasts to repeatedly, heavily brush against the back of his neck and his dark obsidian hair with every rhythmic movement of her massage.

“The tension in your shoulders is melting perfectly, Master,” Hua Yimei purred, her mature voice a sultry whisper against his ear. She intentionally leaned her weight forward, pressing the heavy gold rings pierced through her nipples directly against his skin. “Should I move my hands lower to ease the rest of your magnificent body?”

“In a moment, Yimei,” Wang Jian replied, casually reaching his left hand up to stroke her thick, curvaceous hip, tracing the line of her bare thigh exposed by the parted crimson silk.

At his feet, Mu Lianhua knelt in her flowing, pale azure robes. The stunning master alchemist had completely discarded the top half of her garments, letting the silk pool at her waist. She offered her incredibly soft, massive breasts and her warm, inviting lap as a footrest for his powerful legs. She was meticulously, affectionately rubbing a soothing, fragrant spiritual oil into his calves, her beautiful face a picture of absolute, fanatic devotion.

Despite the overwhelming, deeply erotic pampering and the sheer, staggering beauty of the three voluptuous women surrounding him, Wang Jian’s brilliant, highly calculating mind was actively whirring with intricate plots and strategic maneuvers.

They had come to Abyssal Pearl City with a very specific, monumental goal: to acquire the necessary resources, artifacts, or profound methods required to help these three Half-Step Nascent Soul beauties safely pass the dreaded Heart Demon Tribulation and officially ascend to the Nascent Soul Realm.

However, Wang Jian was not a foolish, impatient brute who would simply kick down the doors of the local auction houses or aggressively demand an audience with the highest authorities. He knew that items capable of guarding the soul during a heavenly tribulation were considered absolute, foundational sect treasures. Demanding them openly would instantly expose their immense wealth and their critical vulnerability, painting a massive target on their backs for every greedy, opportunistic elder in the city.

Furthermore, he had absolutely no intention of immediately initiating contact with Island Lord Hai Kuo.

From the preliminary intelligence gathered by his embedded spy, Bai Xue, the Island Lord was a powerful, highly paranoid expert at the Peak of the Late Stage of the Core Formation Realm who was desperately seeking his own breakthrough to the Nascent Soul stage. If Wang Jian approached him now, the Island Lord would view them either as bitter rivals competing for the exact same limited resources, or as suspicious threats to be eliminated. To negotiate with a paranoid ruler, one had to possess unparalleled leverage or an offering they simply could not refuse.

For now, Wang Jian was far more interested in investigating the massive, chaotic ripple effect caused by the individual named Ye Fan.

Wang Jian leaned back against Hua Yimei’s massive, soft breasts, enjoying the pillowy cushion of her flesh against his head. “Wan’er, tell me the exact results of the information gathering. Have your invisible ledgers yielded anything useful regarding the current state of the city?”

Over the past three days, Wang Jian had not merely confined himself to this luxurious mansion. He had actively, quietly walked the bustling, neon-lit streets of Abyssal Pearl City, projecting the entirely unremarkable, unthreatening aura of a wealthy, traveling scholar. He did not ask direct questions in taverns, nor did he bribe loud, unreliable informants.

Instead, he utilized incredibly subtle, highly sophisticated methods of espionage that were practically undetectable in this cultivation world.

He had deployed hundreds of Shadow-Echo Moths—microscopic, semi-ethereal spiritual constructs forged from his Demonic Qi that resembled tiny dust motes. He had casually released them in the most affluent teahouses, the high-end pill pavilions, and the waiting rooms of the Crimson Tide Guild and the Silver Gale Sect. These moths did not transmit sound in real-time, which would have triggered defensive arrays. Instead, they passively absorbed the vibrational frequencies of conversations, returned to him in the dead of night, and deposited the recorded audio directly into his spiritual sea.

Simultaneously, Shangguan Wan’er had tapped into the deep, underlying metadata of the local Golden Tide Consortium branch’s financial ledgers. She didn’t access the heavily guarded main vault records; she simply analyzed the subtle, public fluctuations in the market. She tracked the sudden, massive spikes in the purchasing of healing herbs, the movement of mercenary contracts, and the subtle shifts in the pricing of defensive array components.

“Master,” Shangguan Wan’er began, sitting up slightly, her massive breasts swaying heavily. She adopted her sharp, professional mercantile tone, which contrasted beautifully with her bare, slutty state. “My analysis of the market fluctuations confirms the intelligence we received. There are absolutely no high-tier auctions scheduled for the next six months. The local economy is entirely focused on hoarding combat resources. The tension between the Crimson Tide Guild and the Silver Gale Sect has completely stalled the luxury trade.”

“And the Heart Demon artifacts?” Wang Jian prompted, running his hand down her smooth back.

“Nonexistent on the open or black markets, Master,” Mu Lianhua chimed in from his feet, looking up at him with her large, devoted eyes. “I spent yesterday browsing the elite apothecary districts under my disguise. Every single spiritual incense, soul-calming elixir, or mind-clearing jade has been quietly, aggressively bought out in bulk by proxies working for the Island Lord’s estate. He is hoarding every possible resource that could even marginally aid his own impending tribulation. He will not sell them, nor will he trade them.”

“As expected,” Wang Jian nodded slowly. “Hai Kuo is a bottlenecked dragon hoarding every scrap of meat. We will deal with him eventually. But first, what have the Echo Moths brought me regarding this Ye Fan and the ancient ruin?”

Hua Yimei leaned over, her heavy breasts resting on his shoulders as she spoke. “The recordings from the Crimson Tide Guild are filled with absolute, bloody fury, Master. The elder who was slain, Elder Mo, was apparently exploring the newly unearthed, deep-sea abyssal ruin alongside several disciples. The ruin was confirmed to be the ancient, sealed cavern of a powerful, long-dead Late-Stage Nascent Soul Realm expert known as the ‘Abyssal Zephyr Lord’.”

“A Late-Stage Nascent Soul cavern,” Wang Jian mused, his eyes glinting. “That is a treasury that could rival the Ice Heart Palace’s foundations. How did a mere Foundation Establishment disciple like Ye Fan manage to secure the core treasures?”

“That remains a mystery that is driving the city mad, Master,” Shangguan Wan’er explained. “The rumors claim that Ye Fan somehow managed to completely bypass the deadly, primary inheritance trials of the cavern that had entirely stalled Elder Mo. He reached the central burial chamber first, acquired the complete spatial ring containing all the treasures of the Zephyr Lord, and when Elder Mo cornered him, Ye Fan utilized a terrifying, previously unknown burst of power to instantly incinerate the elder’s core.”

Wang Jian smiled internally. ‘A classic, quintessential protagonist maneuver,’ he thought with deep, villainous amusement. ‘He bypassed the trials because he probably had an ancient grandpa spirit in a ring, or a magical map, or simply the absolute, blinding karmic luck of the heavens pushing him forward. He killed a superior opponent by suddenly breaking through in the middle of battle or unleashing a forbidden artifact he found five minutes prior. How utterly predictable. And how incredibly profitable for me.’

“But he did not escape cleanly,” Wang Jian noted, recalling the intelligence. “He is currently on the run.”

“Yes, Master,” Hua Yimei confirmed, her fingers continuing to knead his shoulders. “And this is where the political situation becomes incredibly fascinating. When Ye Fan fled the ruin and returned to the city, the Crimson Tide Guild demanded his immediate execution and the surrender of the Nascent Soul treasures to compensate for the murder of their elder.”

“Naturally, the Silver Gale Sect refused,” Wang Jian guessed.

“Actually, Master, they did not,” Shangguan Wan’er corrected him, a hint of disdain for the sect’s cowardice in her voice. “The Patriarch of the Silver Gale Sect, fearing a full-scale, devastating war with the slightly more powerful Crimson Tide Guild, and incredibly greedy for the treasures himself, immediately ordered the sect guards to arrest Ye Fan and confiscate his spatial ring to ‘appease’ their rivals.”

“Ah, the classic betrayal by the righteous sect,” Wang Jian chuckled, plucking another grape and eating it. “So how did he escape the entire might of his own faction?”

“He was saved by his master,” Mu Lianhua reported softly, her hands smoothing the oil over his muscular calves.

“His nominal master,” Hua Yimei clarified, her tone filled with a mix of professional respect and genuine curiosity. “Her name is Shen Mengqi. She is a woman of immense renown in this city, often referred to as the ‘Fairy of the Silver Gale’. She is a supreme elder of their sect, currently standing at the absolute Peak of the Late Stage of the Core Formation Realm, matching your own public cultivation, Master.”

“Shen Mengqi,” Wang Jian repeated the name, the syllables rolling smoothly off his tongue. He found his interest entirely, abruptly shifting away from the lucky protagonist and focusing entirely on this mysterious, powerful master. “Tell me everything about her.”

“She is an anomaly, Master,” Shangguan Wan’er explained, her mercantile mind easily recalling the extensive dossiers she had compiled from the city’s gossip networks. “She is widely considered one of the most breathtaking, mature beauties in the entire Inner Sea Region. However, she is utterly unapproachable. She has absolutely no history of romantic entanglements, no Dao Companions, and she strictly isolates herself within her private pavilion. She is entirely dedicated to her profound martial arts.”

“And her arts are terrifying,” Hua Yimei added. “She does not practice the standard wind-blade techniques of the Silver Gale Sect. Her entire cultivation foundation is based on highly advanced, incredibly lethal illusions, soul-shattering charm arrays, and profound divine sense manipulation combined with ethereal wind maneuvers.”

“When the Silver Gale Patriarch ordered Ye Fan’s arrest,” Mu Lianhua continued the story, “Shen Mengqi completely defied the sect’s supreme authority. She stepped out of her isolation and physically shielded her disciple. She single-handedly fought against three senior elders and the Patriarch himself in the central courtyard.”

“A Late Stage Core Formation expert holding off the leadership of an entire sect?” Wang Jian raised an eyebrow in genuine surprise.

“She utilized a legendary, forbidden technique known as the Phantom Wind Mirage Matrix,” Hua Yimei explained, awe evident in her voice. “She didn’t overpower them with raw destructive force. She trapped the entire upper echelon of the Silver Gale Sect within a massive, suffocating labyrinth of highly realistic, divine-sense illusions. She twisted their perception of reality, making them attack phantoms and shadows for nearly ten minutes.”

“It was a brilliant, highly sacrificial tactical maneuver,” Shangguan Wan’er concluded. “She bought Ye Fan enough time to activate a high-tier, randomized spatial escape talisman he had undoubtedly looted from the Nascent Soul ruin. Ye Fan teleported far away into the unknown oceans, escaping with the entire treasury. There is absolutely no telling where he is currently hiding.”

“And what of Shen Mengqi?” Wang Jian asked, his dark eyes narrowing with intense, predatory interest.

“Due to her overwhelming strength and the sheer, terrifying complexity of her illusion arts, neither the Silver Gale Sect nor the Crimson Tide Guild could easily subdue her without suffering catastrophic, unacceptable casualties to their own ranks,” Hua Yimei replied. “Even Island Lord Hai Kuo hesitated to intervene directly, despite desperately wanting to capture her to interrogate her about Ye Fan’s treasures. If pushed into a corner, an illusion master of her caliber could potentially permanently cripple the spiritual seas of dozens of Core Formation experts before falling.”

“So, she remains within the Silver Gale Sect?” Wang Jian asked.

“Yes, Master. They have placed her under heavily warded, strict house arrest within her own private boudoir, the Whispering Gale Pavilion,” Shangguan Wan’er confirmed. “She is surrounded by sensory suppression arrays to prevent her from casting further illusions, waiting for the Island Lord to decide her ultimate fate.”

Wang Jian fell into a deep, calculating silence. He reached his hands up, resting them casually on the massive, soft breasts of Hua Yimei hanging over his shoulders, his thumbs slowly, rhythmically rubbing her golden nipple rings.

‘This Shen Mengqi… she cannot possibly be an ordinary woman,’ Wang Jian thought, his brilliant mind analyzing the narrative structure of the world he inhabited. ‘A woman of unparalleled, mature beauty who remains entirely untouched by romance. She possesses heaven-defying combat power and highly specialized, incredibly rare illusion techniques that allow her to fight entire sects to a standstill. And most importantly, she willingly threw her entire prestigious life away, defying her own Patriarch, simply to protect a low-level, lucky disciple.’

He smiled, a dark, incredibly villainous smirk that made the three sluts surrounding him shiver with a mixture of fear and profound lust.

‘She is exactly the type of woman who serves as the ultimate, tragic, beautiful mentor figure for a protagonist,’ Wang Jian deduced flawlessly. ‘Perhaps she possesses a legendary, hidden bloodline. Perhaps she has a special, heaven-sent physique related to illusions. In any case, she is a prize of immense, staggering value.’

Wang Jian’s massive dick, which had been resting softly against his abdomen, began to harden instantly, swelling with thick, pulsing veins at the mere thought of conquering such a proud, powerful, and utterly untouched mature beauty.

“I have made my decision,” Wang Jian declared, his voice a low, commanding rumble that echoed through the luxurious pavilion.

He sat up abruptly, forcing Hua Yimei to step back, her massive breasts bouncing wildly. He stood up from the divan, his towering, naked physique radiating a dark, overwhelming aura of absolute, tyrannical ambition.

“I do not care about chasing Ye Fan across the endless oceans,” Wang Jian stated coldly, looking down at his three beautiful, kneeling sluts. “Let the boy run with his lucky treasures. I am far more interested in the magnificent, untouched prize he left behind in his wake.”

“You wish to acquire Shen Mengqi, Master?” Mu Lianhua asked, her beautiful eyes widening. “But she is heavily guarded within the core of the Silver Gale Sect. They have activated their primary defensive arrays.”

“Arrays meant to cage the wind cannot hold the shadows,” Wang Jian replied, his lips curving into a cruel, predatory smile. He reached down and firmly grabbed Shangguan Wan’er by her dark hair, tilting her head back. “I am going to steal the Fairy of the Silver Gale right out of her gilded cage. I am going to taste this untouched, arrogant master thoroughly. I will break her illusions, and I will train her to become nothing more than a desperately obedient slut, just like the rest of you.”

“Yes, Master!” the three mature beauties chorused, their voices filled with absolute devotion and a twisted, competitive excitement at the prospect of a powerful new sister joining their degraded ranks.

“Prepare yourselves,” Wang Jian commanded, turning to walk toward the adjoining armory chamber to don his specialized stealth garments. “We leave tonight. And we are bringing her back to this estate.”

The midnight sky over Abyssal Pearl City was obscured by a thick, rolling sea-fog, casting a heavy, unnatural darkness over the towering architecture of the Silver Gale Sect’s primary compound. The sect was situated on a highly elevated, fortified plateau near the center of the city, surrounded by towering walls of white jade and continuously patrolled by squads of elite, wind-gliding disciples.

Approaching the sect openly was impossible. The perimeter was warded by the Wind-Severing Perception Array, a massive, highly sensitive spherical formation that detected the slightest, most microscopic displacement of air currents. Anyone attempting to fly or leap over the walls would instantly trigger a cascade of razor-sharp wind blades and deafening alarms.

However, Wang Jian and his three sluts did not approach through the air.

At the base of the eastern wall, completely shrouded in the dense, creeping shadows of an alleyway, the air suddenly distorted with a faint, imperceptible ripple of dark energy.

Wang Jian materialized from the darkness, completely cloaked in his absolute mastery of the Stellar Demonic Shadow Arts. He was dressed in sleek, form-fitting black silk garments that absorbed all ambient light. Following silently behind him were Hua Yimei, Mu Lianhua, and Shangguan Wan’er. The three women had discarded their elegant robes, wearing skin-tight, black stealth suits that left absolutely nothing to the imagination, tightly compressing their massive breasts and curvy buttocks to ensure absolute silence.

Wang Jian placed his palm flat against the cool, white jade of the outer wall. He closed his eyes, extending a microscopic, incredibly dense thread of his Stellar Demonic Qi directly into the stone.

His Divine Sense, heavily fortified by the immense resources he had consumed over the past five years, flowed flawlessly through the internal runic pathways of the Wind-Severing Perception Array. He did not attempt to forcefully break the formation, which would trigger the alarms. Instead, drawing upon the profound, high-tier array knowledge he had thoroughly absorbed from his wife, Yue Lingshan, and the ancient texts of the Ice Heart Palace, he executed a surgical, localized bypass.

He found the primary circulation node regulating the eastern wall. With a precise, delicate pulse of his dark Qi, he temporarily reversed the polarity of the wind-attribute spiritual energy, creating a microscopic, momentary blind spot in the array’s sensory field.

“Move. Now,” Wang Jian whispered through a localized sound-transmission thread.

In a blur of absolute, terrifying speed, the four of them scaled the sheer vertical wall like weightless spiders, slipping perfectly through the temporary gap in the sensory field. They landed silently on the manicured lawns of the inner courtyard just as the array’s polarity snapped back into place.

They had successfully infiltrated the Silver Gale Sect without alerting a single soul.

Wang Jian led his team through the winding, moonlit pathways of the sect with the confident stride of a ghost. He effortlessly bypassed three separate, heavily armed patrol squads, utilizing his Shadow-Echo techniques to perfectly predict their movements seconds before they occurred.

They rapidly approached the most heavily guarded, isolated structure within the entire compound: the Whispering Gale Pavilion.

This was the private boudoir of Shen Mengqi. The pavilion was a beautiful, elegant structure built from dark spirit-wood, surrounded by a serene, artificial pond. However, the beauty of the architecture was completely marred by the heavy, oppressive, and highly visible Sensory-Deprivation Shackles glowing a bright, aggressive yellow around the perimeter.

These were not defensive arrays designed to keep intruders out; they were Warden Arrays designed specifically to keep Shen Mengqi’s terrifying illusion arts and profound Divine Sense securely locked inside the building.

“They have effectively blinded and deafened her to the outside world, Master,” Mu Lianhua communicated silently, analyzing the glowing yellow runes. “She cannot sense our approach. But the doors are sealed with a Patriarch-level lock.”

“A crude, brute-force lock,” Wang Jian scoffed internally.

He stepped up to the heavy, carved wooden doors of the pavilion. He didn’t bother attempting to decipher the complex, righteous alignment of the Patriarch’s seal. Instead, he channeled the sheer, absolute, unadulterated destructive power of his Peak Late Stage Core Formation Demonic Qi into his right hand.

He didn’t strike the door. He simply placed his palm flat against the primary lock mechanism and unleashed a highly concentrated, microscopic burst of pure, corrosive Yang fire directly into the internal gears of the array.

The intricate, glowing runes hissed, sputtered, and silently, instantly melted into useless slag. The heavy doors unsealed with a soft, barely audible click.

Wang Jian pushed the doors open and stepped into the boudoir of the Fairy of the Silver Gale.

The interior of the pavilion was incredibly elegant, smelling faintly of old parchment, dried lotus flowers, and a clean, refreshing scent that reminded Wang Jian of a cool, high-altitude breeze.

He moved silently across the plush carpets, entering the primary bedchamber.

There, sleeping gracefully upon a wide, low bed draped in sheer, silver-blue silks, lay Shen Mengqi.

Even in the dim, filtering moonlight, her beauty was absolutely staggering, possessing a mature, refined, and deeply elegant allure that completely justified her title. She appeared to be a woman in the absolute, breathtaking prime of her maturity. Her skin was flawless, resembling the finest, polished white jade. She had long, flowing hair the color of midnight, currently spread wildly across the silk pillows.

She wore a simple, incredibly thin white silk nightgown that provided absolutely no protection against Wang Jian’s devouring gaze. The thin fabric clung tightly to her incredibly voluptuous, hourglass figure. She possessed a surprisingly narrow, delicate waist that flared out into wide, exceptionally curvy hips. But the most arresting feature was her chest. She possessed incredibly large, heavy, and beautifully shaped breasts that heaved softly with her slow, rhythmic breathing, the tight peaks of her nipples clearly visible pressing against the white silk.

She was deeply asleep, her physical and spiritual exhaustion from her massive, sacrificial battle against the sect’s leadership still heavily weighing upon her recovering body.

‘You fought an entire sect for a boy, Shen Mengqi,’ Wang Jian thought, standing over her sleeping form, his dark eyes tracing the luscious curves of her large breasts and the smooth expanse of her throat. ‘You threw away your prestigious life for a mere disciple. Such beautiful, tragic, idiotic loyalty. I am going to thoroughly, completely crush that nobility out of you.’

He did not wake her. He had no intention of engaging in a chaotic, destructive battle within the heavily populated sect compound, allowing her to utilize her terrifying illusion arts.

Wang Jian raised his right hand, his fingers glowing with a dense, absolute, and completely silent concentration of his Stellar Demonic Qi. He formed a specialized, highly complex Soul-Sealing Demonic Needle—a technique designed entirely to violently, instantly paralyze the spiritual sea of a target without causing physical trauma.

With the speed of a striking viper, Wang Jian drove his glowing fingers directly into the center of Shen Mengqi’s forehead, piercing the skin with pure energy rather than flesh.

Shen Mengqi’s eyes snapped wide open, a silent scream of absolute, unadulterated shock tearing at her throat, but no sound emerged. The terrifying, overwhelming density of Wang Jian’s Demonic Qi flooded her spiritual sea instantaneously, acting like a massive, heavy iron shackle slamming shut around her consciousness.

Before she could even attempt to summon her wind arts or cast a single, desperate illusion, her entire body went completely, paralyzingly rigid. Her meridians locked instantly, her Qi circulation violently halted, and her eyes rolled back into her head as she plunged back into an artificially induced, suffocatingly deep unconsciousness.

“Secure her,” Wang Jian ordered quietly, stepping back.

Hua Yimei and Shangguan Wan’er moved forward instantly. They efficiently, securely bound the unconscious master’s wrists and ankles using specialized, Qi-restricting spirit-ropes they had brought for the occasion.

Wang Jian bent down and effortlessly scooped the incredibly beautiful, voluptuous woman into his arms, carrying her bridal style against his chest. Her massive, soft breasts squished wonderfully against his muscular torso, her head lolling back to expose her elegant neck.

Without leaving a single trace of their presence, the four shadows slipped back out of the pavilion, silently scaling the walls, and vanished into the fog-covered streets of Abyssal Pearl City, carrying the stolen fairy away from her gilded cage.

An hour later, back within the absolute, impenetrable privacy of the Golden Tide Consortium estate’s deeply warded, subterranean luxury suite.

Shen Mengqi was beginning to regain consciousness.

The first thing she registered was a dull, heavy, throbbing ache at the very center of her forehead, a lingering phantom pain from the violent, unnatural suppression of her spiritual sea. She tried to instinctively circulate her profound wind Qi to soothe the headache, but she was met with a terrifying, absolute void. Her meridians felt entirely blocked, filled with a heavy, foreign, incredibly dark energy that completely suffocated her cultivation.

She gasped, her eyes snapping open.

However, she was met with absolute, suffocating darkness. She could not see anything. A heavy, highly specialized black cloth—woven from Abyssal Silence Silk—was tied tightly around her eyes. This blindfold did not merely block physical light; it completely, absolutely absorbed and neutralized any attempt to project her Divine Sense outward. She was entirely, hopelessly blind to both the physical and the spiritual world.

Panic, a cold and unfamiliar sensation to the seasoned, powerful master, began to claw at her chest. She tried to move her arms to rip the blindfold away, but she found her wrists securely bound behind her back, her ankles tightly lashed to the heavy, sturdy legs of a wooden chair she was currently seated upon.

“Who… who is there?” Shen Mengqi demanded. Her voice, despite the rising terror, was incredibly elegant, melodious, and laced with the lingering, unyielding authority of a supreme elder. “Identify yourself immediately! You dare to attack an elder of the Silver Gale Sect? The Patriarch will have you executed!”

A low, dark, incredibly chilling chuckle echoed from the darkness directly in front of her.

“The Patriarch of the Silver Gale Sect has already disavowed you, Shen Mengqi,” a smooth, deeply masculine, and utterly terrifying voice replied. The voice seemed to vibrate from every corner of the room simultaneously, making it impossible for her to pinpoint his location. “You threw your prestigious life away for a treacherous disciple. They locked you in a cage to wait for the Island Lord’s judgment. I simply… accelerated the process. I stole you from them.”

“You… you broke through the Warden Arrays?” Shen Mengqi gasped, her brilliant mind struggling to comprehend the sheer, impossible power required to bypass the sect’s defenses without raising a single alarm. “Who are you?! What do you want from me? If you want Ye Fan’s treasures, I do not have them! He escaped!”

“I do not care about your little disciple’s lucky trinkets, Shen Mengqi,” Wang Jian stated, the sound of his heavy, unhurried footsteps slowly approaching her chair.

Shen Mengqi felt the air shift. A sudden, intense wave of scorching, heavy, incredibly dominant Yang heat washed over her skin, causing the thin white silk of her nightgown to cling to her sweating body.

“Then what do you want?!” she demanded, struggling uselessly against her bindings, her massive, heavy breasts heaving violently with fear and righteous anger.

Wang Jian stopped directly in front of her. He reached out his large, warm hand and gently, agonizingly slowly, traced the elegant line of her jaw, his thumb brushing against her trembling, luscious lower lip.

“I want you, Fairy of the Silver Gale,” Wang Jian whispered, his dark voice dripping with pure, unadulterated, and terrifying lust. “I want to break your beautiful, untouched illusions. I want to shatter your arrogant pride. I want to train you, thoroughly and completely, until you are nothing more than a desperate, obedient, cum-hungry slut begging to serve my cock.”

Shen Mengqi’s breath hitched in sheer, unadulterated horror at the absolute, depraved vulgarity of his words. “You… you demonic beast! I will kill you! I will shatter my own core before I let you defile me!”

“You cannot access your core, Mengqi,” Wang Jian taunted cruelly, his hand trailing down her elegant neck to rest heavily upon her collarbone. “You are completely, utterly powerless. And you are not alone in your new… training.”

He snapped his fingers.

The heavy, suffocating silence of the room was suddenly broken by the sound of shuffling fabric and soft, sultry giggles.

Surrounding the bound, blindfolded master were Wang Jian’s three incredibly beautiful, mature sluts. Hua Yimei, Mu Lianhua, and Shangguan Wan’er had entirely discarded their elegant cultivation robes. They stood completely, unapologetically naked in the warm light of the spirit lamps, their massive, heavy breasts swaying, their curves glistening with arousal as they looked upon the struggling, pristine beauty tied to the chair.

“She is so incredibly tense, Master,” Shangguan Wan’er purred, stepping forward to gently, teasingly run her manicured fingernails down the bare, exposed arm of the terrified master. “She has absolutely no idea how wonderful it feels to surrender.”

“We will have to teach her, Wan’er,” Hua Yimei laughed darkly, stepping to Shen Mengqi’s other side, deliberately brushing her massive, pierced breasts against the bound woman’s shoulder. “We will show the haughty Fairy exactly how a true slut behaves.”

“Let the training begin,” Wang Jian declared, his massive, rock-hard dick already throbbing with eager, violent anticipation as he reached his large hands out to violently grab the thin white silk of Shen Mengqi’s nightgown. With a single, brutal tear, he ripped the fabric completely away, entirely exposing the massive, flawless, untouched breasts and the shivering, voluptuous body of the Silver Gale Fairy to the hungry, devouring gaze of her new demonic master.