PREVIEW

... id what all great cultivators do in times of emotional chaos:

He sat cross-legged to meditate.

The skies above shifted hues—from crisp blue to golden orange, then finally to a stormy dusk-gray, as if nature itself was trying to reflect the mood inside the ship.

But peace?

Peace was a luxury.

Because the groaning hadn't stopped. From the sealed cabin behind him—

"Mmm…"

"Ah—ah… stop… not there…"

"Agh—why does it feel good!?"

T ...

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