The silence that followed Zhou Chen's death lasted only a few seconds before turning into a thunderous roar of voices.
The tournament plaza exploded with murmurs, exclamations, and heated debates. No one had expected a 16-year-old applicant who had just entered Initial Foundation Establishment to end the match so cleanly and lethally.
On the elevated judges' platform, the professors and elders of the Cloudy Mountain Academy looked at each other with evident surprise and greed.
"That technique…" murmured one of the sword instructors. "It wasn't a basic academy technique. Where did she get it from?"
"Her Qi control is monstrous," said another, an elder from the fist branch. "I want to take her as my personal disciple. With that talent, she could go far in my line of teaching."
A third professor, a specialist in movement and speed, stood up from his seat:
"She's mine. Her speed and precision are perfect for my shadow techniques."
The voices quickly grew louder. Several professors and elders began arguing openly, casting glances toward Qingyan, who stood motionless in the center of the arena with a cold and arrogant expression, as if nothing happening around her mattered.
"I saw her first!"
"Her talent would be wasted in your branch. She should come with me."
"Silence! I have higher rank. I will take her under my guidance."
The discussion turned almost chaotic. Some elders even stood up, ready to descend to the arena to claim her personally.
Qingyan observed everything with indifference. Inside, the mind of the former Immortal Emperor smiled with contempt.
"Pathetic… They're all fighting over a tool they don't even understand."
Then, a powerful and authoritative voice cut through the noise like a knife.
"Enough!"
Everyone fell silent instantly.
From the highest part of the platform, two figures descended. The first was the Dean of the Academy, an elderly man with white hair and an imposing aura. Beside him walked the Vice Dean, a middle-aged man, tall, with an elegant bearing and a penetrating gaze. His presence was clearly superior to that of the other professors.
The Vice Dean stopped at the edge of the platform and looked directly at Qingyan.
"Mo Qingyan," he said in a clear and authoritative voice. "You have demonstrated exceptional talent in this tournament. If you wish, you may become my personal disciple."
A murmur of surprise swept through the plaza. Becoming the Vice Dean's personal disciple was an immense honor. It meant resources, advanced techniques, and protection within the academy.
Qingyan raised her gaze and looked at him calmly. She knew perfectly well that this man had nothing to teach her. Her knowledge as a Peak Immortal Emperor far surpassed anything the academy could offer. However…
"It's the fastest way to advance. Access to high-level resources, information, and an elevated position without wasting time on menial tasks."
She accepted with a slight nod.
"I accept. I will be your disciple, Vice Dean."
A collective sigh ran through the plaza. The other professors fell silent, disappointed but not daring to contradict the Vice Dean.
The man nodded with satisfaction.
"Good. Follow me."
He descended from the platform and walked toward Qingyan. Together, they left the tournament area under the gaze of hundreds of eyes.
The Vice Dean led her through the academy's main courtyards to a private and exclusive area: the Elders' Residence. It was a quiet zone surrounded by well-kept gardens and elegant buildings of dark wood and white stone.
They arrived at a large but sober mansion.
The Vice Dean opened the main door and invited her inside.
Inside the main hall, a beautiful young woman around 19 years old was waiting for them. She had intense red hair that fell in soft waves to her waist, bright green eyes, and a delicate but proud face. She wore the inner uniform of the Vice Dean's personal disciple.
The red-haired girl looked Qingyan up and down with a clearly hostile expression. Her eyes lingered especially on her figure and the fitted black dress.
The Vice Dean spoke in a calm voice:
"This is my other personal disciple, Huo Ling. Huo Ling, this is Mo Qingyan, your new cultivation companion."
Huo Ling bowed her head slightly, but her voice came out cold:
"Welcome… I suppose."
The Vice Dean continued as if he hadn't noticed the tension:
"There are only the three of us in this residence. There are no other disciples under my direct guidance. Here you will have access to high-level resources and personalized training."
He led them down a hallway to a simple but clean room.
"This will be your room, Mo Qingyan."
Qingyan entered and observed the space. It was larger than her room at home, with a decent bed, a desk, and a wardrobe.
The Vice Dean stopped at the door and looked at her seriously.
"It's clear that you are very arrogant, Mo Qingyan. That can be a virtue… or a flaw. To help you lower that arrogance a little and teach you humility, from now on you will be required to wash all of my clothes and Huo Ling's. Including the underwear. You will do it every day after training."
Huo Ling smiled slightly, with a touch of malicious satisfaction.
Qingyan stood still for a moment, processing the order.
Inside, the Immortal Emperor's mind burned with fury and humiliation.
"Washing underwear…? Me?"
But her face remained impassive. She simply bowed her head slightly.
"Understood, Master."
The Vice Dean nodded, satisfied.
"Good. Rest today. Tomorrow we will begin your real training."
He turned and left the room, leaving Qingyan alone with Huo Ling.
The red-haired girl gave her one last disdainful look before leaving as well, closing the door behind her.
Qingyan stood in the center of her new room, fists clenched at her sides.
Mo Qingyan stood in the center of her new room, still processing the order she had just received from the Vice Dean. She was to wash his clothes and Huo Ling's. Including their underwear.
The humiliation burned in her chest like acid.
"I… the Immortal Emperor… reduced to washing dirty underwear."
The door burst open without a knock.
Huo Ling entered with an arrogant and satisfied expression. She was carrying a giant basket of dirty laundry, so full she could barely see over it. The red-haired girl dropped the basket heavily onto Qingyan's bed, causing several garments to spill onto the floor.
"Here you go," Huo Ling said in a haughty voice, looking her up and down. "Clean all of this. And when you're done, clean my room too. Master hates disorder."
Huo Ling deliberately released her aura.
An overwhelming power filled the room:
Peak Golden Core. It was a heavy, suffocating pressure, far stronger than Qingyan's current Initial Foundation Establishment level. The air became dense, as if an invisible mountain were pressing down on her shoulders.
Qingyan felt the difference in power clearly. Although her mind was that of an Immortal Emperor, her current body was too weak to resist that aura.
She slowly lowered her head, clenching her teeth with suppressed fury.
"…Understood," she replied in a low, cold voice.
Huo Ling smiled with superiority.
"Good. Don't take too long. And do it properly. If Master finds even one stain, you'll be the one who pays the consequences."
She turned around and left the room, slamming the door behind her.
Qingyan was left alone, staring at the enormous basket of dirty laundry on her bed. Her fists trembled slightly at her sides.
"This red-haired bitch…
When I regain my power, I'll make her regret every single word. I'll make her lick the floor while I humiliate her in front of everyone."
She took a deep breath, trying to calm her rage, and began to work.
She pulled out the first garment: one of the Vice Dean's inner robes. Then another. And another.
As she sorted through the clothes, her eyes stopped on several intimate items.
There were dried white stains on many of them. Some were stiff from the amount, others had fresher traces. Qingyan stared fixedly at the garments.
A treacherous heat began to rise through her body.
Her nipples hardened beneath the fabric of her dress. She felt an uncomfortable but pleasurable tingling between her legs. Her large ass involuntarily tensed against the cloth.
"This… is semen…"
The humiliation was profound.
Her mind screamed with rage and disgust.
But her body… her cursed body was reacting.
A faint heat concentrated in her lower abdomen. She felt herself growing slightly wet. Her fingers trembled as she held the stained underwear.
"Why…?
Why is my body getting excited by this…?
I am… I am the Emperor…"
She forced herself to continue washing, scrubbing the garments vigorously in the basin they had left her. But every time she touched a white stain, her body responded with greater intensity. Her thighs pressed together. Her breathing became slightly heavier.
The humiliation and involuntary arousal mixed in a way that made her feel both sick and strange at the same time.
"This is only the beginning…
If I don't control this physique…
I really will become what I despise most."
Qingyan continued washing in silence, head lowered, her face burning with shame and suppressed fury.
Qingyan scrubbed a tunic belonging to the Vice Dean with force, trying to focus only on the mechanical movement of her hands. Soapy water splashed in the basin, but her mind kept spinning.
The white stains on the underwear were still there.
She couldn't ignore them.
Her fingers trembled when she picked up one of Huo Ling's garments: a pair of fine silk panties, still slightly damp in some places. The white stains were obvious. Some were fresh, others already dry and stiff.
She stared at the garment for several seconds.
The heat in her lower abdomen returned with force, stronger than before.
"What is happening to me…?"
She stopped washing. Her hands, as if they had a will of their own, slowly lifted Huo Ling's panties to her face.
She brought them close to her nose and inhaled.
The scent was strong, musky, slightly salty. The unmistakable aroma of semen mixed with a woman's natural scent.
A shiver ran through her entire body.
Her nipples hardened painfully. She felt her pussy suddenly grow wet, almost shamefully so. Her large ass tensed against the fabric of her dress.
"This is… disgusting…
I am Mo Xie… I can't…"
But her body was no longer listening to her mind.
With ragged breathing, Qingyan sat on the edge of the bed, still holding Huo Ling's panties against her nose. One of her hands slowly moved downward, lifting the skirt of her black dress. Her trembling fingers touched her own underwear, already soaked.
She caressed herself over the fabric at first, then slipped her hand inside.
A low moan escaped her lips when her fingers brushed against her swollen clit.
"Why… why does this excite me…?"
She began masturbating, her movements clumsy at first, then more urgent. Her mind, unable to resist, started to wander.
She imagined washing clothes every day.
She imagined kneeling while smelling Huo Ling's underwear.
She imagined the red-haired girl beating her, humiliating her, forcing her to lick the white stains while calling her a slut.
The pleasure grew rapidly, uncontrollably.
Her fingers moved faster, rubbing her clit with desperation. Her other hand pressed Huo Ling's panties tighter against her nose, inhaling deeply.
"I… shouldn't…
But… it feels so…"
Her mind could no longer resist.
The images became more vivid.
Huo Ling beating her with a rod while she washed clothes on her knees.
Huo Ling forcing her to lick fresh semen stains from her underwear.
Huo Ling laughing at her, calling her a "useless whore."
Qingyan was panting heavily. Her hips moved instinctively against her own hand.
She couldn't hold back any longer.
"Huo… Ling…" she moaned softly, almost without realizing it.
The orgasm hit her like a violent wave.
Her body arched sharply. A hot squirt shot out of her pussy, soaking her hand and spilling onto the bed. Her thighs trembled uncontrollably as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through her.
At the same time, unable to stop herself, she brought Huo Ling's panties to her mouth and licked one of the fresh semen stains.
The thick, salty taste filled her tongue.
The pleasure intensified even more.
Qingyan fell back onto the bed, panting heavily, with Huo Ling's panties still pressed against her mouth.
She lay there, exhausted, staring blankly at the ceiling.
Her mind was in shock.
"What… what did I just do…?
I moaned her name…
I licked… I licked the semen…"
A tear of rage and shame rolled down her cheek.
But her body was still trembling with residual pleasure.
And deep inside, a treacherous little voice whispered:
"It felt… way too good."