Villain: Manipulating the Heroines into hating the Protagonist Chapter 966: Breaking Hua Yimei Entirely (2)

The afternoon sun blazed with a fierce, golden fierceness across the Isle of Whispering Petals, positioned low and weighty in the heavens like a massive, watchful orb. The humidity hung dense enough to feel on the tongue, a moist, sticky warmth that caused the air to waver over the elaborate stone paths and blurred the far-off skyline into a misty blend of azure and ivory. As most of the sect's disciples retreated to the refreshing underground meditation caves or the temperature-regulated rooms of the alchemy buildings to flee the scorching heat, Wang Jian paced restlessly across the sleek floors of the Cloud-Peak Pavilion, a churning restlessness twisting in his stomach that no meditation session could calm.

He positioned himself beside the broad, curved window, fingers locked behind him, gazing out at the rich, green valley cradled safely behind the primary peak. This was a private haven, a geological dip in the island's terrain overflowing with Spirit-Bamboo—vibrant green stems rising above rooftops, gently bending in the breeze to form a whispering natural screen. Concealed far inside that verdant maze existed the sect's greatest natural treasure: the Spirit Water Springs.

These weren't simple hot springs warming underground water; they drew from an underground dragon-vein rich in pure water-element spiritual energy that had filtered through layers of spirit-ore before emerging. Soaking in them was an indulgence for the upper echelon. The waters purified the bones of toxins, eased the fierce rebound from erratic cultivation, and sharpened the awareness of the flesh and meridians to surrounding Qi. It remained a forbidden zone, a haven of quiet and clarity, typically set aside for Elders and top disciples who had greatly aided the sect's growth.

Wang Jian observed the vapor lifting beyond the bamboo heights, and a gradual, hunting grin spread across his mouth. The quiet emptiness of the pavilion wearied him. He yearned for distraction. He longed for the thrill of control.

'It has been a few days since I broke her in the Grand Hall,' he mused, his gaze sharpening as he assessed the endurance of his prey. 'Her frame is robust. As a Middle-Stage Core Formation cultivator, her healing powers are vast. She ought to have mended sufficiently to move... and to obey.'

He contacted his storage ring, a pulse of spiritual energy drawing out a superior communication jade slip. He gripped the chilled, glossy stone, channeling his spiritual sense into it. He didn't merely transmit words; he issued an order, veiled in the soft menace of revelation.

'Sect Leader,' his inner voice transmitted, sleek and commanding. 'The heat today is overwhelming. I require a deep purification, for flesh and soul alike. The Spirit Water Springs beckon. Join me at the isolated 'Heavenly Mist' pool—the uppermost one on the cliff. Carry a jug of the Hundred-Year Jade-Dew Wine. And Yimei... don the white silk robe. The sheer one. Wear nothing beneath. I desire no obstacles between us this day.'

He snapped his wrist, dispatching the message soaring through the atmosphere. It darted like an unseen bolt, evading the safeguards of the Orchid Palace to reach its mark.

Far inside the chilled, dim retreat of the Orchid Palace, Hua Yimei perched in meditative focus on a mat of braided spirit-grass. She strove to mend the wound to her honor, flowing her Qi in a frantic effort to banish the persistent, ghostly feel of Wang Jian's hands from her flesh. Her form still throbbed with a muted, pulsing recall of the throne-room encounter that morning—the bruises on her hips from the armrests, the tenderness in her thighs that healing ointments couldn't wholly soothe.

As the message struck, humming against her mind, her eyes flew wide. A wave of pure horror coursed through her, breaking her cultivation rhythm and making her aura waver wildly.

The springs? Right in the heart of the afternoon?

Her pulse pounded in her chest. The Heavenly Mist pool offered seclusion, true, but it lay within the sect's accessible territories. It lacked the sealed gates of a palace or the cover of a dim cavern. The heavens stretched open overhead. The surrounding bluffs held patrols.

'Master...' she replied mentally, her inner voice quivering, threaded with alarm and a frantic appeal for sense. 'Please, not there. That spot lacks privacy. It is kept for top disciples and guest dignitaries. If I appear there... if anyone spots us... the disgrace would ruin the sect. Please, allow me to visit the Pavilion. I will fulfill any request, just not out in view.'

Wang Jian's response came right away, icy and admitting no debate. 'Then you must pray your disciples avert their eyes. Scandal drives strongly, Yimei. If you aren't present in ten minutes, I will visit the Palace once more. This time, I will haul you by your hair, bare you in the main square, and claim you right there. Do not challenge my tolerance.'

Hua Yimei shut her eyes, a scalding tear slipping free and trailing down her face. She lacked options. She grasped, with a weighty certainty, that choice had long escaped her. Her spirit yielded to him just as her body did.

She stood, her limbs leaden as though trudging through sludge. She headed to her personal reserves, fingers trembling as she fetched a sturdy, sealed flask of the Jade-Dew Wine—a gem valued at thousands of spirit stones, now demoted to a tool for his diversion. Next, she approached her closet.

She shed her mended formal attire, allowing the thick silk to drop to the ground. The chamber's fresh air brushed her bare skin, stiffening her nipples—a betraying response that flushed her with mortification. She glimpsed her reflection in the tall bronze glass. The crimson palm marks on her rear had dulled to light welts, the bite on her throat concealed by her locks, yet the mild puffiness of her chest from his harsh grip remained clear. She resembled a woman fully claimed, her figure yielding, yielding, molding to her lord's needs.

With unsteady fingers, she selected the outfit he demanded. It was a basic, one-piece garment woven from premium celestial silk threads. White, pristine, and exceedingly delicate. Dry, it seemed proper. Wet, it would grow see-through, adhering to each contour like another layer of skin.

She slipped on the robe, fastening the belt slackly at her midsection. No underclothes adorned her, leaving the odd, airy exposure of her nudity under the silk.

She exited via a rear route from the palace, employing an advanced concealment method to veil her being and curb her presence. She glided like a specter amid the bamboo thickets, darting from shade to shade, her throat tight with dread at every bird's cry or leaf's stir. She sensed herself as an intruder in her domain, slipping off to violate her own pride.

The Heavenly Mist pool crowned the spring pools, tucked beside a steep, lichen-clad cliff that served as a innate theater. Vapor ascended in dense, twisting mists from the water, veiling the surface and forging a surreal, foggy ambiance.

Upon reaching it, winded and fearing detection by the boundary watchers, she parted the bamboo veil and discovered Wang Jian waiting.

He stood bare, reclining in the pool's shallow section with the haughty comfort of a serpent in its den. His back leaned on a sleek, verdure-sheathed boulder, arms extended along the edge, baring the breadth of his toned torso that gleamed with dampness and perspiration. The water shone pure, a lively teal that concealed nothing of his sturdy form below.

He cracked open an eye as she passed through the bamboo, his look idle yet laden with purpose.

"You're late," he stated, his tone slicing through the bubbling cascade.

"I... I had to dodge a patrol by the disciple halls," Hua Yimei murmured, her eyes wildly searching the bluffs overhead, flickering like a cornered creature. "Please... let's hurry. If anyone finds us..."

Wang Jian chuckled, the noise rebounding from the stones and causing her to startle. "Hurry? You understand me more than that, Yimei. Why hasten when I possess the Sect Leader solely in this bliss? Enter."

Hua Yimei paused at the pool's brink. The sun's rays struck like a harsh beam, burning her skin. Each bamboo whisper echoed as a disciple nearing to unveil her disgrace.

"Let the robe fall," he directed, his sight shifting to her belt.

She loosened the tie with quaking digits. The loop unraveled. She eased her shoulders, and the pale silk glided from her arms with a faint whisper, gathering at her toes like spilled cream.

She posed nude beneath the vast sky.

Her lush form shimmered in the light—her broad, fertile hips, her toned belly hiding the power of a Core Formation expert, and those enormous, weighty breasts captivating Wang Jian. They dangled full and pendulous, shifting with her ragged breaths, crowned by broad, dusky rose peaks already peaking in the draft, revealing her excitement amid dread.

Wang Jian regarded her, his eyes shadowing with delight and craving. "Magnificent. You embody perfection in form, Yimei. A genuine bovine ready for harvest."

She entered the water. The warmth enveloped her feet, then shins, then upper legs, a seductive hold that unwound her rigid sinews despite herself. She advanced toward him, the level climbing. Deeper in, the spirit water's lift bore her ample breasts upward, letting them drift on top like twin ivory isles.

She arrived at him, the liquid reaching her hips. Wang Jian refrained from drawing her close. He indicated the wine vessel she hugged to her bosom like armor with a damp digit.

"I'm parched," he declared. "Serve me."

Hua Yimei removed the stopper from the jug, the aroma of strong spiritual brew perfuming the space. She prepared to fill a jade goblet bobbing on a nearby wooden float.

"No," Wang Jian halted her, his palm lunging to seize her arm. "Not that way. That suits a maid attending visitors. I seek a female tending her mate."

He extended and clutched her midriff, tugging her downward until she knelt in the water amid his parted thighs. Her breasts floated directly before his visage, sparkling with water beads.

"Pour it over you," he instructed, his tone husky with desire. "Let it flow across your breasts. I wish to sip it from your body. I yearn to sample your flavor blended with the wine."

Hua Yimei pressed her lips, shame scorching her face fiercer than the mist. Yet she followed. She raised the hefty jug in both grips. She angled it.

The golden fluid, cool and sugary, spilled onto her torso. It traced her collar, gathering in the profound cleft between her breasts, and poured over the curve of her vast mounds. The wine coated her skin, rendering it gleam like burnished stone under the rays.

Wang Jian inclined forward. He avoided his hands. He plunged his face into her bosom, slurping the wine with his tongue like a famished beast. He traced her neck's dip, pursuing the streams, his beard rasping her tender flesh.

"Delicious," he rumbled against her, the hum rippling chills along her back. "Sweet and earthy."

He descended further. He seized her right peak between his lips, drawing firmly, pulling in the wine and her taste. His tongue circled the wide circle, toying with the peak until Hua Yimei inhaled sharply, her spine bowing unbidden, her fingers clutching his frame for balance.

"Mmm..." she uttered, the noise slipping out unchecked. Though fear of exposure gripped her, the warmth of his mouth on her breast, the pull, the teeth brushing her nipple ignited surges of molten heat to her core. Her cultivation core, bound to his Yang force, surged back, warming her veins.

He shifted to the opposite breast, nipping softly, drawing the tissue inward. He savored the wine fused with the sweat of her fright, relishing the blend of feelings.

"Set the jug aside," he breathed, freeing her nipple with a slick sound that rang lewdly to her.

She placed the wine by the pool side, her grasp unsteady.

"Now," Wang Jian uttered, reclining his head on the stone, baring his neck. "Wash me. Ready me for union."

He parted his legs below, beckoning her.

Hua Yimei understood his intent. She drew a full breath, inhaling the steamy vapor, and dove under.

Beneath, silence and blue reigned. The spirit water smarted her eyes as she peered. She beheld him. His enormous member drifted semi-rigid in the flow, broad and commanding, a sleeping giant awaiting arousal.

She approached, her tresses drifting like a crown of dark kelp, veiling her features. She engulfed him with her lips.

Wang Jian observed from the surface. He noted the water's disturbance and waves as she labored. He discerned the hazy form of her head moving between his legs, the brief gleam of her pallor. He sensed the draw, the intense warmth of her mouth against the spring's heat. It formed a bizarre, delightful feeling—the Fragrance Melody Sect's head, submerged in his ecstasy below.

She emerged moments later, panting for breath, rivulets cascading down her lovely features, her gaze bloodshot yet deepened with want.

Wang Jian seized her soaked locks and drew her up for a kiss. He savored the spring essence, the wine, and his own scent on her mouth. He kissed profoundly, fiercely, robbing her air, thrusting his tongue beyond her lips to conquer her cavity.

"You're improving at that," he murmured, parting the kiss but holding his countenance near. "You're grasping your role."

He rose. Water poured from his frame like a torrent. His member stood rigid, a rod of steel aimed at her, throbbing with ridges.

"Turn around," he ordered.

Hua Yimei rotated, her actions heavy with longing and alarm. She confronted the pool's stone barrier.

"Bend over the stone."

She obeyed. She rested her arms on the slick, damp rock, the moss chill on her skin. She curved her spine, thrusting her full, rounded rear outward. Her enormous breasts dangled, oscillating gently with her shifts, their ends skimming the water.

Wang Jian advanced from behind. The water hit his waist.

He set his palms on her broad hips, thumbs digging into the yielding tissue, securing her. He aligned with her slick, puffy portal.

SPLOSH.

He plunged into her with one fluid, relentless push, embedding fully.

"Ahhh!" Hua Yimei wailed, her call rebounding from the cliff, scattering a group of spirit-avian from the branches.

The feeling overwhelmed. The warm currents eddying their loins, the fresh gust on her back, and the absolute, boundless stretch of him filling her... it proved excessive. She sensed him strike her core at once.

Wang Jian started his rhythm. He chose a leisurely, churning tempo highlighting the drag.

Slap. Splash. Slap.

The noise of his pelvis striking her rear rang damp and resonant. The water frothed about them, forming surges slapping the stone.

"Scream, Yimei," Wang Jian mocked, bending to nip her shoulder, teeth rasping the bone. "Let the birds catch it. Let the disciples learn their Sect Leader is being mounted like a cur in the sacred springs."

Hua Yimei crammed her fist to her lips, gnawing her joints to mute her outbursts. "Please..." she sobbed around her hand, tears blending with the pool on her cheeks. "Someone will hear... show pity..."

"Pity?" Wang Jian laughed, driving fiercer. "Why seek pity when your core grips me so tightly? You crave this. Your form pleads for it."

Abruptly, voices floated from the upper trail. The crunch of stones and soft, girlish giggles.

"Did you hear that the Young Mistress brought back a Sea-Core?" a youthful feminine tone sang, sharp as chimes in the peaks.

"Yes! And I heard Head Elder Wang is planning to refine a breakthrough pill!" another replied. "The Sect Leader must be so proud."

Hua Yimei stiffened. Her pulse halted. The disciples treaded directly overhead. Mere twenty paces above, divided by sparse foliage and the bluff's slant. Should they peer below... should they merely peek...

Fear, icy and total, froze her. Her inner walls squeezed Wang Jian's member like a clamp, striving to still him, to halt the shifts that could betray them.

Wang Jian sensed her fright. He felt the constriction, how her body held him in raw panic. And he grinned—a cruel, thrilling grin of one who fed on peril.

He ceased not. He concealed not.

Instead, his presence surged. He directed his Stellar Qi, not for assault. He projected it afar, forming a slender, glowing shield encircling them. It formed a Stellar Mirage Barrier. To onlookers from above, the pool seemed vacant, mere vapor and waving liquid. Their noises muffled, confined within the sphere.

But he shared not this with her.

To Hua Yimei, exposure loomed complete and total.

"Don't halt," Wang Jian breathed in her ear, his tone steady and chilling. "If you cease, I'll yell. I'll summon them to wash my back."

He surged into her. Fiercely.

"Mmph!" Hua Yimei shuddered, horror and bliss clashing in her mind. She endured ravishment outdoors, her pupils nearby, and this male hammered her heedless of all. The rush elevated her desire to agonizing peaks.

"They speak of me," Wang Jian murmured, circling his hips, striking her sensitive spot with calculated malice. "They revere me. They deem me holy. What would they deem if they viewed you thus? Rear raised, saliva on your jaw, swallowing my shaft deep as they chat sect affairs?"

"No... no..." tears flowed down her. She felt torn asunder.

The voices persisted above. "The Sect Leader is so wise. She has guided us through the darkness. I hope to be as dignified as her one day."

"She is the pillar of our sect."

The iron