Even so, the spikes left several shallow gashes across his body, drawing beads of blood!
These white, jade-like spikes were capable of piercing his protective *qi* not only because they were imbued with Luo Shaowen's power, but also because they were composed of a room-temperature superconducting material—a substance of immense rarity in the outside world, possessing a hardness several times that of diamond and a resilience comparable to spring steel.
This material transmits energy with far less loss than human tissue, creating a synergistic effect where the combined output far exceeds the sum of its parts. It is notoriously difficult to produce, manufactured only in laboratories on a scale measured in mere grams.
Though truly worth its weight in gold, here in the "Black Street," it appeared as if it could be conjured out of thin air, as freely and effortlessly as if it cost nothing at all.
Such is the advantage of a "Grotto-Heaven" space; the one who commands such a realm possesses an overwhelming, insurmountable edge. "Well, well... isn't this my dear nephew?"
After extricating himself from the crisis, Luo Shaowen caused a seat made of smooth, white jade to rise from the ground, lifting him high into the air.
His thick, engorged cock remained buried deep within Sister Lan Yan's intimate slit. With his hands now free, two white jade pillars—acting like living, controlled tentacles—coiled around her slender, porcelain-like arms, forcibly pinning her body down.
Her beautiful back was angled flat; the muscles along either side were taut, and her elegant shoulder blades resembled the wings of a butterfly. A deep, graceful groove ran down the center of her back, tracing the line of her spine all the way to the small of her waist—a waist as slender as a serpent's, possessing a form that was both lithe and exquisitely sculpted.
Her full, firm buttocks were thrust high into the air. Between those rounded, fleshy cheeks, the massive, protruding cock served as a fulcrum, propping up her shapely, curvaceous rear.
Beneath her, another square platform had risen from the ground. Her abundant, supple breasts were pressed firmly against it, bulging into two enormous, rounded globes; the resilient, soft flesh spilled out from between her shoulders and underarms.
Sister Lan Yan's head hung low, her breath coming in soft, persistent gasps. A glistening sheen of sweat coated her back, rising and falling rhythmically with her labored, heavy breathing.
Luo Shaowen rested his chin on one hand, while his other hand slowly caressed the soft, plump curve of Sister Lan Yan's buttock. He fixed his gaze upon Li Dong, his eyes dancing with a playful, mocking glint—a look that hovered somewhere between a smile and a sneer. Li Dong's chest heaved. Even though the evidence pointing to his uncle as the mastermind behind everything was now undeniable, he still found it impossible to fathom. How could the man who had once been so kind and affectionate—someone who would patiently listen to even the most trivial concerns he and Xuetang shared, offering comfort and advice—reveal such a true, sinister face?
Growing up, both he and Xuetang had placed their full trust in their uncle; only Yutang had ever kept her distance.
"Why would you do this?"
Li Dong's voice was hoarse. As his gaze followed his uncle's hand—caressing and fondling Lan Yan's smooth, flawless, egg-like buttocks—he clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white.
Luo Shaowen paused, then burst into laughter, as if he had just heard a joke.
"Did you actually take that little game of 'playing house' seriously?"
"Don't get the wrong idea, though. I was merely humoring my dear niece by playing along—it makes the final 'feast' all the more thrilling. As for you… you were never anything more than a prop."
Li Dong felt a suffocating tightness in his chest, yet something in Luo Shaowen's words caught his attention. His eyes locked onto his uncle with intense, unblinking focus.
Luo Shaowen chuckled, a look of keen interest crossing his face. "My dear niece—your fiancée, no less—is a woman of such divine allure. Who wouldn't want to experience that kind of pleasure?"
With that, he ran his tongue over his lips, feigning a look of lingering, savoring delight.
Even Xuetang…
Li Dong felt a rush of blood surge to his head, and his vision momentarily darkened. At that very instant, an intense sense of danger washed over him, accompanied by a sharp, urgent, and alarmed cry:
"Danger!"
It was the voice of Sister Zhiran. Li Dong trusted her unconditionally; the moment he heard her shout, his body reacted even before his conscious mind could process it, jerking him abruptly to the side.
*Whoosh! Whoosh!*
Where he had been standing just a heartbeat before, dozens of sharp, finger-thick spikes erupted—interlacing and converging with such density that the spot was transformed into a bristling thicket of thorns.
Li Dong gasped for air. Since his *dantian* had been repaired, restoring his body to a "flawless" state—though his effective range was less than a tenth of what it had been in his prime—he had regained the ability to manifest the pinnacle of martial *dan*-path cultivation: the "External-Realm Circulatory Field" (*waijing zhoutian*).
By linking his internal *qi* with the external world, he could create a self-sustaining, enclosed domain—a miniature barrier—that rendered it nearly impossible for an enemy to catch him off guard, making him virtually immune to sneak attacks.
However, a "Grotto-Heaven" (*dongtian*) was essentially a vastly superior, more refined version of this External-Realm Circulatory Field. It integrated the internal and external realms, possessing the capacity to contain vast spaces within a tiny point—a feat bordering on the supernatural.
Naturally, this completely suppressed his own External-Realm Circulatory Field, effectively rendering him "blind" to his surroundings.