She came.
It was a full-body event.
Every meridian in her cultivation base fired simultaneously, the Plum Blossom technique igniting from its lower-core foundation up through her chest and crown, pink-gold light blazing through her skin, her hairy cunt clamping his cock with the grip of a woman who had been told her whole life that sex was merely a cultivation resource and was discovering, at four hundred years old, that this information had been incomplete.
He came with her.
The seed pressure built the belly dome, the familiar grotesque roundness of too much volume in too little space, her abdomen distending against his own stomach as he held her pinned against him.
Above her twitching, glowing, seed-full body:
Peak Nascent Soul — Achieved.
Transcendence Threshold Unlocked.
The second line made the bath hall go silent.
Nobody had ever seen a Transcendence Threshold unlock.
