Chapter 721 – "The Offer"
The awards ceremony was winding down, but Alex's gaze wasn't on the shining treasures still being distributed. His eyes were fixed instead on the small, rune-marked mystery box resting in Elder Mei Suhua's hands.
It wasn't the ornate carvings that caught his attention, nor the faint pulse of mana that leaked from within. It was something subtler — a whisper of an aura he couldn't quite place, like a door half-ajar in a locked room.
From the Emerald Jade Sect's section, Elder Mei Suhua noticed. The corner of her mouth lifted, a slow, knowing smile. She stepped forward from her seat, descending toward the Heavenly Sect's section with measured, graceful strides. The chatter of the stands grew louder as people noticed her approach.
She stopped just in front of him, her eyes never leaving his. "It seems," she said softly, "that this little box has caught your attention."
Alex didn't deny it. "It has."
Her smile widened a fraction. "Then perhaps… you'd like to make an offer?"
Without hesitation, Alex's voice carried clearly enough for the nearby audience to hear. "The Level 9 weapon I received. I'll trade it for the mystery box."
The stands erupted in gasps and murmurs.
"Trade a Level 9 weapon?!"
"Is he insane? That sword's worth more than most sect treasuries!"
"What could possibly be in that box to make him give it up?"
Elder Mei Suhua tilted her head, clearly savoring the attention. "You would trade away a weapon most men would kill to wield?"
Alex's tone remained calm, almost indifferent. "I can make a better one. I don't need it."
That simple statement sent another ripple of shock through the crowd. Even some sect masters leaned forward, curious now not just about the box, but about the masked man who spoke as if Level 9 treasures were nothing.
Mei Suhua studied him for a long, deliberate moment — then her fingers brushed over the box's carved surface. "You may have just made this day… very interesting."
Elder Mei Suhua's fingertips lingered on the mystery box, her gaze locked onto Alex with a glint that was anything but subtle. The murmurs from the stands faded to a tense hush as she finally spoke.
"I don't want your weapon," she said, her voice smooth as silk yet carrying to every corner of the arena. "If you want this box… you can have it, but only on one condition."
Her lips curved into a slow, wicked smile. "Spend a night with me."
The silence that followed was deafening. Then the arena erupted into a storm of noise — gasps, laughter, and outright scandalized exclamations.
"She's serious?!"
"That's the Elder Mei Suhua for you…"
"Not surprising… the Emerald Jade Sect is famous for dual cultivation."
"Still, to say it here, in front of everyone—"
Even in the sect master's pavilion, some of the leaders raised their brows, though a few merely exchanged knowing looks. It was no secret that the Emerald Jade Sect's core cultivation path was built on shared pleasure and mana exchange — but for Mei Suhua to openly proposition the Heavenly Sect's mysterious champion, and in the middle of the prize ceremony no less, was audacious even for her.
Lan Xueya, watching from the Frost Moon Palace's section, felt her jaw tighten. She told herself it was just distaste for Mei Suhua's brazen style… but her eyes never left Alex.
Mei Suhua tilted her head, her expression openly challenging. "Well, masked hero? What's your answer?"
All around, the arena waited, thousands of eyes fixed on him. The air itself seemed to hold its breath.
Alex didn't even pause. The moment Mei Suhua's words left her lips, he replied, his voice steady and carrying effortlessly across the arena.
"No."
No hesitation, no awkward laugh, no attempt to soften it — just a clean, final refusal.
The reaction was instant.
"What?!"
"He turned her down?!"
"Is he insane? One night for that box? Anyone else would have agreed before she finished speaking!"
Even Mei Suhua's confident smile faltered for the briefest fraction of a second, though she recovered quickly. "No?" she repeated, almost as if she hadn't heard him correctly.
Alex's eyes met hers, calm and unyielding. "I don't interrupt my life for anyone."
The choice of words hit differently than a simple rejection. It wasn't that he didn't want the box — it was that her offer simply wasn't worth his time.
The crowd rippled with murmurs. Many couldn't understand it. To them, a single night with the Emerald Jade Sect's most coveted beauty in exchange for a mystery treasure was an absurdly favorable trade. And yet… he had dismissed it without a second thought.
Lan Xueya's brows furrowed. So he's not just powerful… he's the kind who won't bend for anything.
From the Heavenly Sect's section, Yu Mei allowed herself a faint, knowing smile. That's exactly who he is.
Mei Suhua's gaze lingered on Alex, and this time, her smile carried a sharper edge. "Interesting," she murmured, voice low enough that only those closest could hear. "You just made me want you more."
But Alex had already turned away, his attention leaving her entirely — as if the exchange had never happened at all.
Chapter 722 – "A Thought She Shouldn't Have"
Up in the Frost Moon Palace's section, Lan Xueya's eyes followed Alex as he walked back toward the Heavenly Sect's seats, mask in hand, his expression as unreadable as ever.
Her mind replayed the exchange with Elder Mei Suhua — the brazen proposition, his absolute refusal, and the way he had turned away without even sparing her another glance.
He rejected Mei Suhua… just like that.
A thought she didn't expect slipped in before she could stop it.
If even she couldn't sway him… then… would I have a chance?
Her heart gave a small, traitorous thump.
She quickly shook her head, as though to physically fling the idea away. Ridiculous. I'm not interested in men. I've never been interested in men.
And yet, despite her own denial, she felt the heat rise to her cheeks. She shifted in her seat, annoyed at herself for reacting at all. The cold, composed Lan Xueya — Frost Moon Palace's prodigy — blushing over a man she'd only fought once and spoken to barely at all? Unthinkable.
Still, her gaze drifted back toward him, and when she realized it, she turned away sharply, focusing her eyes on the arena floor as if nothing had happened.
But no matter how much she tried to ignore it, the image of his calm eyes and steady voice lingered stubbornly in her mind.
Lan Xueya tried to focus on the prize ceremony, keeping her eyes fixed on the projection of rankings above the arena. But the more she tried to push the earlier thought away, the warmer her cheeks seemed to get.
Unfortunately for her, one of her fellow Frost Moon Palace disciples noticed. A slender woman in pale-blue robes leaned closer, her voice low but laced with amusement. "Don't tell me… you're blushing because of him?"
Lan Xueya's head snapped toward her, eyes narrowing. "Absolutely not."
"Mhm." The other disciple smirked knowingly. "You've never looked at anyone like that before. And now, after one fight with you, he freezes a True Void Sect fighter without moving, refuses Mei Suhua in front of everyone, and suddenly you look… distracted."
"I said no." Lan Xueya's tone was sharper than she intended, which only made her friend chuckle under her breath.
The teasing didn't stop. As the ceremony concluded and the Frost Moon Palace disciples made their way back toward their quarters, the other woman kept making sly remarks. "If you were interested, you'd better act fast. With a face like that and strength like his, he's probably already—"
Lan Xueya cut her off with a glare. "Drop it."
Her companion finally relented, though her smirk never faded.
But when Lan Xueya was alone later that night, sitting in her chamber lit only by moonlight, the image she'd been fighting to forget returned — the steady way he had met her gaze in the arena, the quiet authority in his voice when he refused Mei Suhua without hesitation.
To her annoyance, the warmth crept back into her face. She buried herself under her blankets, scolding herself in silence. Ridiculous. Completely ridiculous.
And yet, she knew she was lying to herself.
Chapter 723 – "Restless Hunger" (18+)
The Emerald Jade Sect's residence within the tournament grounds was a lavish courtyard draped in silks, the air scented with rare incense. Moonlight streamed through the open lattice windows as Elder Mei Suhua returned from the arena, her steps unhurried but her mind anything but calm.
Alex's image refused to leave her thoughts — the way he had looked at her without the slightest hint of intimidation, the unshakable calm in his voice when he rejected her offer, and that face… younger and more handsome than any man she had ever met, yet untouchable.
Her fingers brushed her lips as she crossed the threshold into her private chambers, a low hum of amusement — and frustration — slipping from her throat. You turned me down in front of everyone… but all you've done is make me want you more.
The heavy silk curtains swayed as she entered her bedroom. The space was decadent — a massive bed draped in emerald sheets, golden braziers casting warm shadows over the walls painted with scenes of entwined lovers.
The desire coiling in her chest was no longer the subtle pull she'd felt in the stands. It was sharper now, tinged with impatience, the kind that her sect's cultivation arts taught her never to ignore.
She sat at the edge of her bed, her eyes narrowing in decision. "Come," she said, her voice low yet commanding.
Moments later, several of the sect's most skilled male disciples entered, each one well-versed in the sect's dual cultivation techniques. They knelt respectfully, awaiting her command, though more than one dared to glance at her with anticipation.
Mei Suhua's gaze slid over them slowly, but there was no warmth in it — not tonight. You'll do for now, she thought, though none of them could compare to the man still lingering in her mind.
"Close the door," she ordered, her tone a velvet caress wrapped around steel. "And don't leave until I'm satisfied."
After the disciple locked the door, Mei Suhua rose from the bed with unhurried grace. The flicker of the golden braziers traced molten light along the curves of her body as she reached up, loosening the clasps at her shoulders. One by one, the layers of emerald silk slid down her arms, pooling soundlessly on the polished floor. The faint scent of her perfume — warm jasmine and something darker, spiced — thickened in the room.
The lead disciple's breathing slowed, his eyes following her every movement. At her small, wordless nod, he reached for the knot at his waist, pulling it free. His outer robe fell open, revealing the sculpted lines of a body honed for both battle and the sect's arts of pleasure. The others followed suit, their gazes fixed on her, waiting for her to choose.
Mei Suhua's smile was languid, but her eyes were sharp with intent. "Tonight," she murmured, her tone a silken command, "you will serve without pause. You will give everything, until there's nothing left for you to give."
They answered in perfect unison — "Yes, Elder" — even as the first one stepped forward into the warmth of her reach. Her fingers slid along his chest, her nails grazing skin lightly, testing, judging… and finding it wanting.
It would do. For now.
But even as the room began to fill with the low hum of breath and the rustle of movement, the image of a masked man with calm eyes and an unshakable voice lingered at the edges of her thoughts — a reminder that no matter how skilled these men were, they would never be him.
The first man stepped forward at her beckoning, lowering himself to the bed as though approaching an altar. Mei Suhua did not rush — she guided him down with the pressure of her palm against his chest, climbing onto him with deliberate, fluid motion. Her knees sank into the silk beside his hips, her body aligning over his with a predator's slow patience.
Her hands traced the breadth of his shoulders, then down the lines of muscle along his chest, her nails leaving faint trails of heat that made him inhale sharply. She lowered herself until the curve of her breasts brushed against him, her lips hovering a breath away from his ear.
"Give me everything," she whispered, and the weight of her voice carried the command deep into his core.
When she took him into herself, it was not with the frantic hunger of a common lover. It was a controlled claiming, each motion purposeful, a rhythm tuned to her breathing and the slow circling of her hips. His mana began to flow almost instantly, pulled from the center of his being into the spiraling path her sect's cultivation arts demanded.
He groaned beneath her, the sound half-pleasure, half-surrender, as her body drew him deeper both physically and spiritually. Mei Suhua's eyes stayed half-lidded, her focus split between the feel of him inside her and the currents of energy she was weaving through their joined cores. She rotated her hips, tightening her inner muscles with practiced precision, milking both his seed and his strength in perfectly measured draws.
His fingers gripped her waist, but she pinned his hands back against the bed with her own, her power pressing down like a velvet shackle. "No," she murmured, the single word carrying the weight of her will. "You give. I take."
The exchange deepened — her breathing slowed as she drank in his mana, feeling it swirl through her meridians, feeding her dantian in waves of heat and vitality. He trembled under her, the tension in his muscles betraying the strain as his reserves poured into her with every controlled thrust.
When his climax came, she did not allow it to shatter the rhythm. She rode through it, holding him in place, drawing every last pulse of essence into herself. Only when she felt the final tremor fade from his body did she lift herself away, the sheen of sweat on her skin catching the golden light.
The man collapsed back into the silk, chest heaving, his aura dimmed from the drain. Mei Suhua did not spare him another glance. She turned her eyes toward the second man, curling one finger in a silent summons.
"Next."
Chapter 724 – "The Shadow in Her Thoughts" (18+)
The second man stepped forward without needing to be called twice, the hunger in his eyes tempered by the discipline drilled into every Emerald Jade Sect disciple. He lowered himself before her, bowing his head in ritual deference before she guided him onto the still-warm bed.
Mei Suhua straddled him with the same slow, commanding grace as before, her palms pressing against his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat under her fingers. Her hips descended, taking him in with a firm, deliberate motion that drew a sharp breath from his lips.
She set the pace immediately — a deep, rolling rhythm that drew mana from his core with every thrust, each pull measured to feed her own reserves while leaving no wasted motion. Her breathing synchronized with the flow, each inhale timed with his release of mana, each exhale locking the energy within her meridians.
But as she looked down at him, it wasn't his face she saw. The outline blurred, and unbidden, the calm, masked gaze of Alex slid into place in her mind. That same gaze that had met hers without hesitation in front of thousands… and refused her as if she were nothing more than a passing wind.
Her hips faltered for the briefest moment — just enough for the man beneath her to notice. His hands rose to her sides in a tentative offer of support, but she brushed them away with a sharp flick of her wrist, regaining the tempo.
"Focus," she murmured to herself more than to him, leaning forward until her breasts brushed against his chest. She tightened around him, the strength of her inner muscles pulling his mana faster now, the strain showing in the tremor of his thighs. His eyes glazed as the drain deepened, the rhythm of his breathing matching the pull of her cultivation technique.
He came hard, body arching against her, but she held him in place, riding the pulse of his seed and mana until his reserves gave a final flicker and faded. She lifted herself from him, the sheen of sweat on her skin catching the soft gold light, her breathing even — but her thoughts were not.
The third man approached at her silent gesture. She didn't even look at his face this time; she was already moving, mounting him with practiced dominance. Her body performed with precision, draining him in slow, twisting motions, yet her mind betrayed her, conjuring the image of Alex again — the unshakable tone in his voice when he had said, No.
By the time she dismissed the fourth and final man, leaving them all sprawled in exhausted silence on the silken bed, her own mana reserves were brimming. Her skin glowed faintly with the excess, every meridian saturated with warmth and vitality.
And yet… she lay back against the pillows, one arm draped across her forehead, the satisfaction incomplete. The faces of her drained disciples faded quickly from memory. Only one face remained vivid — calm, unreadable, impossibly young… and entirely out of her reach.
Mei Suhua's lips curved into a slow, frustrated smile. "You'll give me what I want eventually," she whispered to the empty air, though whether it was a promise or a challenge, even she didn't know.
She lay there in the warm afterglow of her last release, her skin still humming with the mana she had drawn in… and yet the emptiness at the edge of her satisfaction only sharpened. Her breath slowed, but her mind whispered the truth she didn't want to admit.
"…Not enough."
Her voice was low, but the man closest to her stirred, his eyes opening in hazy confusion. She turned her head toward him, her tone regaining its commanding edge. "Wake another. Now."
He obeyed instantly, slipping from the bed and disappearing through the silk curtain. When he returned, two more followed — three of the sect's strongest male cultivators, their bodies already bare, their auras sharp with restrained anticipation.
She did not waste time with ceremony. "All of you," she ordered, her voice a velvet command. "Now."
They moved at once, climbing onto the wide bed in practiced unison. Mei Suhua positioned herself in the center, guiding them without hesitation. The first man knelt between her thighs, his "dragon" pressing into the soft heat of her forest, sliding along her outer lips and sending a shiver up her spine. The second leaned forward from behind the first, his length pushing deep into her waiting core, stretching her with a slow, filling motion.
The third circled behind her, his hands gripping her hips with reverent firmness before his own "dragon" pressed against the tight ring of her rear. She relaxed deliberately, allowing him to push past the resistance until he was buried completely.
A chorus of low groans filled the air — theirs from the pleasure of entering her, hers from the exquisite sensation of being filled to the brim in every place at once.
Then she moved.
Her hips rolled with calculated precision, each motion milking all three in perfect rhythm, her cultivation art pulling mana from three separate sources in a braided stream that flooded her meridians. The heat rose quickly, the pressure building inside her until it felt as though her entire body was alight.
The first man's thrusts stroked her outer walls in a teasing glide, the second's deep, steady plunges churned the pleasure in her womb, and the third's measured pulses in her rear sent tremors racing up her spine. Together, their combined mana poured into her like an unbroken tide.
She tightened around all three at once, forcing their essence to spill faster, her breathing deepening into a slow, commanding rhythm. One by one, they began to lose control, their releases pulsing into her — but she did not relent, wringing them for every last drop of seed and mana they possessed.
By the time she finally released them, all three were trembling, their bodies collapsing against the bed as though she had drained the bones from them.
Mei Suhua sat back, her skin gleaming, her aura blazing so brightly that the gold braziers seemed dim in comparison. Her mana reserves surged, overflowing with the vitality she had taken… and still, deep in the quiet center of her mind, the satisfaction rang hollow.
Because no matter how many men she emptied, no matter how skilled, none of them could replace the image that lingered — calm eyes behind a mask, a voice that had refused her without hesitation.
Her lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile. "Alex… you will be mine."
Chapter 725 – "An Unexpected Visitor" (18+)
The moon still hung low over the Emerald Jade Sect's courtyard when a knock came at the silk-paneled door of Mei Suhua's private chambers. She was lounging across her vast bed, skin still faintly glowing from the night's excess, the air thick with the lingering scent of sweat, perfume, and spilled seed.
"Enter," she called, her voice a lazy purr.
The door slid open, and an old man stepped inside — tall, broad-shouldered for his age, his hair silver but his posture unbowed. His eyes, sharp and knowing, swept over the scene without a flicker of surprise.
"Elder Meng," Mei Suhua greeted with a slow smile, pushing herself upright so the emerald sheets slid down, baring more than they covered. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
His answering smile was faint, the kind reserved for old colleagues who had shared too many secrets to count. "I heard the… noise," he said evenly, "and thought perhaps you might have worn out your toys."
Her laughter was low and rich, the sound curling through the warm air. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, letting the movement emphasize the generous curves of her body. "Perhaps I have. Or perhaps," she said, letting her gaze trail slowly down his frame, "I simply need something… different."
She rose from the bed and crossed the short distance between them, her bare feet silent against the polished floor. Standing before him, she tilted her head, eyes glinting with both challenge and invitation.
"I'm feeling," she said softly, "far too horny to waste time." Her hands lifted to the front of his robes, fingers already toying with the ties. "Take off your clothes."
Elder Meng didn't hesitate. With the same calm efficiency he might use to prepare for battle, he loosened the layered robes and let them fall away, revealing a body that, despite his years, still carried the strength of a seasoned cultivator. His mana aura flared faintly, the pulse of it stirring the air between them.
Mei Suhua's lips curved. "Good," she murmured, stepping closer until her breasts brushed his chest, her voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Let's see if you can keep up."
Mei Suhua didn't rush.
Her fingers curled around the edge of Elder Meng's robe, peeling the last layer from his shoulders as though unveiling a treasured artifact. She let her eyes wander over the lines of his body — the solid muscle beneath skin weathered by years of cultivation, the faint scars that whispered of old battles.
"Still strong," she murmured, her voice carrying approval as she traced one scar with the tip of her nail. "Good. I'll take my time with you."
She guided him toward the bed, pressing lightly at his chest until he sat against the cushioned headboard. Then, with unhurried grace, she climbed onto the mattress, her knees sinking into the silk sheets as she settled astride his thighs.
For a moment, she simply sat there, her hands exploring — over his shoulders, down the breadth of his chest, along the ridges of his abdomen. Her touch was slow and deliberate, as if she were memorizing every detail. Elder Meng's breathing deepened under her attention, his mana aura stirring faintly in anticipation.
Only then did she shift forward, her hips aligning with his. She took him into herself with one smooth, steady motion, the heat of her body enveloping him completely. Both of them exhaled at the same time — his a groan of pleasure, hers a sigh of satisfaction.
Mei Suhua began to move with languid precision, her hips rolling in deep, unhurried circles. Each motion was designed to pull at his mana in measured waves, letting it flow into her steadily rather than all at once. She could feel it gathering in her core, spiraling through her meridians with each controlled thrust.
Her hands roamed as she moved — gliding over his shoulders, framing his face, brushing across his neck with feather-light touches that made him shiver. Every so often she would pause, holding him fully inside her, tightening her inner muscles until she felt another small surge of mana break free from his core into hers.
Elder Meng's eyes were half-lidded, his head resting back against the headboard. His hands hovered at her hips but never took control; her dominance was absolute, and he knew better than to interrupt her pacing.
"Don't rush," she whispered, leaning in so her lips brushed his ear. "We have all the time we need… and I intend to take every drop you have."
The minutes stretched into something more — time losing its meaning as she drew him closer to the edge again and again, only to ease back, holding him there until the strain turned into something deliciously unbearable.
When she finally allowed him to release, she did not speed up. She held the same slow, measured rhythm, milking every pulse of seed and mana from him, drinking it into herself until her own body glowed faintly with the abundance.
Only when she felt his aura dim to a flicker did she lift herself from him, her breathing perfectly steady, her skin warm and flushed from the intake. She stood over him for a moment, watching his chest rise and fall, a faint smile playing at her lips.
"Rest," she said, though her tone carried the weight of command rather than kindness. "You've given me enough… for now."
But as she turned toward the brazier-lit corner of the room, her mind betrayed her yet again — the image of calm eyes behind a mask, a voice that had refused her without hesitation, slipping into her thoughts like a shadow she couldn't banish.
But even with her body warm and her meridians brimming with fresh mana, Mei Suhua felt it — the hollowness that no amount of careful draining could fill. She lingered at the bedside for a moment, letting her gaze rest on the sleeping form of Elder Meng. His chest rose and fell in steady rhythm, spent and unmoving.
It still wasn't enough.
She moved to the dressing screen in the corner, the silk panels painted with scenes of moonlit gardens. Piece by piece, she dressed herself — not in the flowing emerald robes of formality, but in attire chosen with deliberate intent: a form-hugging inner layer of deep green silk, a low-cut outer robe the color of dark wine, its belt tied loose enough to suggest it might come undone at a whisper. Her hair she bound high, letting a few strands fall to frame her face, the style calculated to invite eyes without seeming forced.
As she adjusted the last fold, a memory surfaced — whispered conversations overheard from her disciples earlier in the week. A certain place in the city… not the crude dens of drunken merchants, but a high-class brothel hidden behind lacquered doors and layers of propriety, a place known to cater to cultivators and the powerful alike.
Her lips curved into a faint, dangerous smile.
She had come here for the tournament, but there was nothing stopping her from… indulging in what the city offered. And perhaps, just perhaps, she might find some novelty there strong enough to push the image of him from her thoughts — if only for a night.
With a final glance at the exhausted Elder Meng, she swept from her chambers, the scent of her perfume trailing behind like a promise yet to be fulfilled.