He savored the sensation with half-closed eyes. The nectar flowing endlessly into his mouth was exceptionally thick and viscous—its texture akin to whipped erotic fluids or melted cream. It was less like ordinary milk and more like rich, fatty milk-cream, carrying a faint, oily tingle and a smooth, sticky richness. Fresh and fragrant, it held the subtle scent of floral nectar and the clear sweetness of royal jelly, all dominated by an intense, full-bodied milky aroma. As the milk slid down his throat, the old servant felt a soothing warmth rise from his belly—a sensation so blissful it felt almost like ascending to immortality. Yet, moments later, a tingling numbness spread through his limbs and bones; it felt as though countless tiny insects were crawling and scratching within every single cell.
Amidst that warmth, there was also a chilling, numbing sensation—like the cold, dark depths of a moonlit pool—causing his face to flush crimson and sweat to pour from his body.
Before long, the old servant pulled his mouth away from the tender, rosy nipple with a soft *pop*, leaving the voluptuous, snow-white breast swaying before him; a single drop of creamy white milk still clung to the glistening, wet tip.
He kept his eyes closed, as if in deep meditation. A moment later, he looked down at his groin with delight; a faint, hot swelling was surging there—enough to cause a visible, stiffening bulge.
Though the sensation lasted only an instant, its significance was profound.
One must understand that to control these "Spirit-Driven Servants," Jiang Yingji specifically selected individuals who had been vegetative since birth—people bedridden their entire lives. They suffered from naturally obstructed energy channels, and their life force was a mere trickle, barely enough to sustain existence—like a candle flickering in the wind—let alone replenish the soul's energy.
Their bodies were typically cold and devoid of sensation. Yet now, not only had feeling returned, but his genitals were showing signs of revival—a miracle that would drive the medical world into a frenzy.
The old servant licked his lips in delight, savoring the vitality surging within him; it felt like a complete rebirth—a miracle that was undeniably, tangibly real.
Milk produced during pregnancy by a woman with a "Pure Yin Body" is known as "Mystic Peak Treasure Milk." It is, of course, exceptionally rare—a true treasure of heaven and earth.
However, the Queen of Shanghai was not pregnant... and even if she were, such milk would only appear in the middle or late stages of pregnancy; it certainly wouldn't manifest this quickly. Moreover, even for a "Pure Yin Body," only the scarce colostrum could truly be considered the legendary "Xuanfeng Precious Milk"—yet Jiang Yingji was now producing this rare substance in a steady, continuous stream.
And all this while she had never even borne a child!
Even the old servant, with all his vast experience, had not foreseen such a transformation; there was simply no precedent for the primal essence of a "Pure Yang Body" fusing with a "Pure Yin Body" in this manner.
The old servant could no longer clearly define the Queen of Shanghai's constitution; perhaps it had transcended even the legendary "Nine Heavens Mystic Maiden" in quality.
However, Li Zhiyu had been a figure of "Taboo-level" power, and the primal essence he left behind was overwhelmingly potent. Clearly, the Queen could not fully assimilate this Pure Yang essence—which explained why she remained in a deep, unawakening slumber.
Indeed, the old servant had initially employed specific measures to prevent Jiang Yingji from waking up, only to realize later that she would not have roused anytime soon regardless of his actions.
It was likely the influence of that Pure Yang essence that caused her body to secrete such precious milk. Within it, the powers of Pure Yin and Pure Yang had fused in a miraculous way, yielding effects that defied imagination—even restoring vitality to a body that had been effectively vegetative since birth.
Regrettably, her frail physique could not withstand large quantities of the "Xuanfeng Precious Milk"; she was too weak to handle such potent nourishment. The old servant had to limit her intake to mere sips, lest the overwhelming potency damage her body rather than heal it.
Yet, the inability to feed did not mean he could not...
The old servant stripped off all his clothes. Now that the body possessed sensation, he was no longer like a block of wood; he could fully feel the Queen's skin—smooth as fine jade and soft as cream. Mesmerized by her long, shapely, and flawless legs—which felt as smooth as if dusted with the finest powder—he pressed his face against them, rubbing affectionately while his hands roamed over her body. From time to time, he would press that pair of slender, bare, and tender feet against his face, licking and sucking them with abandon; the baby-soft smoothness of the "Queen of Shanghai's" soles was utterly intoxicating.
Suddenly, as if struck by a thought, the old servant chuckled and retrieved a few items from the pile of clothes on the floor—objects in transparent packaging, thin as a cicada's wing.
They were pairs of stockings. Although this era seemed bizarre and surreal compared to the Ming Dynasty, it boasted many inventions that the old servant deeply admired.
Stockings were one of them.
If he could return to the Ming Dynasty, a single pair would likely fetch a fortune—thousands of gold pieces—from high-ranking officials and nobles. For all their sanctimonious airs, the depraved games those officials played in private were enough to leave even a Grand Imperial Preceptor dumbfounded.
In truth, the Taoists under his command often spent their time not "exorcising demons and upholding the Way," but procuring enchantresses and swordswomen for the amusement of the elite...
The old servant selected a pair of sheer, light-coffee-colored "crystal" stockings and carefully slid them onto the Queen's long, exquisite legs.
His earlier foray outside had been driven not only by the need to scout the situation but also by the desire to find these very items; the Black Street was a hub of high demand, teeming with bars and nightclubs, so stockings were not hard to come by.
However, the Queen's legs were so perfect that finding high-end stockings worthy of them was a challenge—a task that had truly required considerable effort on the old servant's part.
A misty, light-coffee hue now veiled her smooth, slender legs, fitting flawlessly and allowing her radiant, creamy skin to show through naturally, accentuating her graceful curves with a dreamlike allure.
The lace bands at the top of her thighs featured a pattern of fluttering butterflies—as if real butterflies were dancing upon her flawless, jade-like skin. Those exquisite, shapely feet were encased in sheer stockings; the lustrous, delicate skin of the insteps blended with the sheen of the hosiery, creating an indescribably soft and alluring sensuality.
The toes—slender and shapely like young bamboo shoots—were confined by the stockings and curled slightly; they were smooth and plump, resembling delicate silkworms in their refined beauty.
The old servant's breathing grew heavy; with trembling hands, he brought those beautifully contoured, slender feet right before his eyes. The stockings revealed the tender, peachy-pink skin beneath, tracing the smooth, graceful curves of the foot. If a bare foot offered a vivid, soft allure, then one veiled in sheer stockings possessed a hazy, dreamlike beauty.
*Slurp...*
The old servant lolled out his broad tongue, leaving a dark, wet trail of saliva across the smooth arch of the foot; his large tongue danced greedily, licking every inch of the sole.
Then, opening his wide mouth, he took the pearl-like, tender tips of the toes into his mouth, licking and sucking on them. He thrust the tip of his tongue between the toes, stretching the sheer, elastic fabric of the stockings as he swept and swirled wantonly.