20. Midnight Temptation

After curfew, the palace plunged into darkness, all lights extinguished. Only the night watch guards patrolled, their steps echoing faintly. No one else dared roam the grounds.

Elder Mu had already settled into bed. As was his nightly ritual, he relieved himself twice, releasing thick, potent yang essence to quench the fire raging in his withered body before slipping into a peaceful slumber.

The moonlight cast a gentle glow, the autumn wind carried a mournful chill, and the late autumn midnight bit with cold. Yet it couldn't mask the tension of a hesitant soul. A soft breeze nudged Elder Mu's door ajar. A graceful silhouette appeared beneath the moonlight, hazy and indistinct.

The beauty's form stood outlined in the lunar glow, her curves more striking than in daylight. Her high, firm breasts blocked the light, casting a shadow over her taut lower abdomen. One side of her dress caught the moon's brightness, lifting slightly, while the other half melted into shadow. Her honeyed hips, round like a full moon yet tender like an unripe peach, strained against her skirt's hem, revealing the tight seam between her legs, a ravine-like groove that teased the imagination. Her breaths quickened with nervous anticipation as her silent steps carried her into the room.

This was Qing Jiang's first time slipping into a man's chamber under cover of night, especially that of a filthy, decrepit old man like Elder Mu.

Elder Mu's sleeping form was a pitiful sight. He wore a thin, tattered robe, patched countless times. His exposed arms resembled dry, withered branches, and his wrinkled, sunken belly peeked from beneath a threadbare blanket barely warm enough. His aged flesh bore sores and age spots, marks of decades of decay.

Below, he lay bare. A cock, monstrously thick beyond human norms, rested soft and coiled like a dormant python. Even flaccid, it stretched seventeen or eighteen centimeters, dwarfing Feng Wei's erect length. Its head, pressed against his thigh, swelled more than twice the size of Feng Wei's, a grotesque bulb hinting at its full, ferocious potential. Nestled between his frail, twig-like legs, this massive shaft seemed like a third limb. The pubic hair at its base, unlike Feng Wei's jet-black, mingled gray and black, mirroring the sparse, graying strands atop his head, a testament to his rotting vitality.

"Hmmph…"

Qing's eyes darted from the sight of that beastly thing, which had rattled her resolve more than once, unwilling to stare directly. Her breaths thickened through her delicate nose, a strange heat flaring in her chest, clawing at her lungs like an itch she couldn't scratch. Her peerless face, glowing like icy jade in the moonlight, flushed with warmth.

The room reeked of a peculiar stench, a dense aroma of semen that hung heavy, inescapable. Qing's sharp eyes, piercing even in the dark, caught traces of semen on Elder Mu's cockhead and thighs, still wet and glistening.

Her face burned hotter, a tangle of regret and hesitation churning within.

"You can't do it…"

Mira Rain's mocking sneer echoed in her mind, sharp and vivid, alongside Feng Wei's ecstatic grin at climax. They sliced into Qing's fractured emotions like knives, shredding them piece by piece.

Even Qing didn't notice how her steps faltered, weak and unsteady. Her slender, refined calves quivered as she edged closer to Elder Mu's bedside, step by trembling step.

The nearer she drew, the stronger the semen stench assaulted her, a wave of heat rushing to her head. Yet, oddly, her body didn't recoil as much as she'd expected. A fiery sensation bloomed in her smooth, flat abdomen, paired with an indescribable itch and unease, as if something wet were seeping from deep within.

A crimson gleam flickered in her eyes, growing brighter.

"Mmm… ah…"

Whether stirred by Qing's scent drifting near or her silhouette blocking the moonlight, Elder Mu stirred from sleep, his eyes cracking open groggily. His gaze blurred, unfocused, as if still trapped in a dream.

Spotting the fairy-like Qing by his bed, radiant as the moonlight, Elder Mu didn't shrink with his usual fear and deference. Instead, a lecherous, pig-like grin split his face. Foul drool oozed from his mouth's corner, mingling with the lustful gleam in his eyes, painting him as utterly depraved.

"Heh heh heh… Qing… Qing…"

Her heart jolted as Elder Mu awoke, nearly fleeing like a gust of wind. But a closer look calmed her slightly. He seemed convinced this was a dream, his expression dazed and detached, easing her tension a fraction.

"Ah!!!"

That calm shattered in an instant.

Believing himself dreaming, Elder Mu reached out boldly. His withered, branch-like arm snaked around Qing's youthful, firm, plump hips.

His dry, claw-like fingers sank deep into her soft, round flesh through her dress. Ten bony digits dug into her tender, unripe peach-like buttocks.

And he didn't stop there. He kneaded her roughly, like dough. Her flawless, moon-round hips morphed under his grip, now oval, now circular again. The plump, pristine beauty of her hips was defiled repeatedly by this ugly, lowly old man.

Her youthful, peach-like hips weren't alone in their deformation. Hidden deep within her buttocks' crevice, her shy, tight rear flower stretched and squeezed shut under his brutal handling. After cultivating a pristine body, her clean, untainted passage suffered such savage treatment. His fingers brushed her silk undergarments, the smooth fabric grazing her delicate bud, sending tremors through her legs. Her full, soft thighs tensed uncontrollably.

Her round, plump hips, mauled so roughly, shifted from a perfect jade disc into countless shapes, like juicy, snowy dough kneaded by a baker intent on molding it into a mature, rounded masterpiece.

Elder Mu's foul face burrowed into Qing's warm, smooth abdomen like a boar. The wrinkles on his ugly mug rippled across her clothing, his drool and hot breath seeping through, wetting her belly like scalding mud. She felt his coarse nose probe her dainty navel, each breath striking it directly. A searing heat surged from his fingers, his stinking breath, and his saliva, piercing her thick dress and delicate, jade-like skin, flooding her limbs like dry wood igniting in a blaze.

Deep within Qing Jiang's abdomen, in the most secret chamber of her body, a spring-like bud began to leak sticky, wet heat. A warm, moist trickle flowed from that hidden garden, like waves crashing. A single drop of viscous honey slid down, trembling through the countless tender, burning folds of her sacred passage, too narrow for even a sheet of paper to slip through. Those quivering, pink walls shuddered as if roused by this drop from her deepest core.

Qing panicked. Her full, tight thighs clamped together instinctively, like a pure little girl desperate to hold back a flood of fragrant urine, terrified and ashamed, struggling to trap that wet drop from escaping and soaking her pristine undergarments.

But her efforts failed. That warm, sticky droplet pushed stubbornly through the tight, wriggling pink flesh, emerging like a mountain spring, trembling and swaying, clinging like a broken thread. It touched her clean, fragrant silk undergarments, instantly wetting a small patch.

At that moment, a hundred flowers seemed to bloom, a garden bursting into spring. The room filled with this sticky, fragrant aroma, mingling with the overpowering semen stench, crafting a scent both pure and intoxicatingly arousing. The hormones of man and woman blended in the air, summoning the buried desires of the lone pair sharing this dim chamber.

"Qing… you smell so good…"

Still lost in his dream, Elder Mu grinned foolishly. His cock swelled and hardened suddenly, a towering pillar of steel, burning hot and ferocious like a volcano. The raging dragon's head flushed crimson and purple, its shaft thicker than Qing's forearm, its massive head larger than a baby's fist. Like a predatory lizard flicking its tongue, the slit oozed transparent mucus, dripping slowly.