Reverend Obscenity-Chapter 18: Cock Addict

The room was thick with the scent of sex and sweat, the sheets ruined, the bed frame a shattered wreck beneath them.

Yet neither seemed to care.

They lay tangled in the aftermath, skin still hot, bodies still humming with the echo of shared release.

Mingzhu stretched languidly against Lin Fengyang, her bare leg hooking around his waist.

She let out a breathless laugh, brushing a finger across his chest.

"Haha... Fengyang, you really made my day," she murmured with a smug little smile.

"Believe it or not, I'm gonna steal you from Meiyin one day."

He chuckled, voice still hoarse. "Try if you can."

Mingzhu rolled onto her elbow, propping herself up as her crimson eyes gleamed with mischief. fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm

"Don't underestimate me. I will get you, no matter what. For now, I'll settle for dual cultivating with you—but once I beat Meiyin... you'll be mine. Don't you agree?"

Fengyang smirked. "Suppose that'll only happen if I'm not stronger than you by then."

She laughed again, this time with fondness. "Hehe, honey... You really are a talent. Too bad you started cultivating so late. Don't feel bad when I win."

He gave a small shrug, resting his arm behind his head. "We'll see."

A beat passed, and then her smile turned sly.

"I guess it's about time I give you your half of the dual cultivation technique," she said.

He raised an eyebrow, expecting her to reach for a scroll, or perhaps rise from the mattress to fetch it from her belongings.

Instead, she swung her leg over his hips again and straddled him with practiced ease.

Her fingers brushed across his temples—light as a feather, yet pulsing with warmth.

Before he could question it, a strange dizziness overtook him.

The room blurred. His thoughts swam. But within seconds, clarity returned... and so did something else.

Knowledge. Technique. Understanding.

Lin Fengyang's eyes widened. Somehow—impossibly—he knew the technique. Mastered it, even.

The principles of the male half of the Twin Lotus Embrace had rooted themselves deep within his mind, not as scattered insights but as a complete, seamless comprehension.

"How..." he breathed. "How is this even possible?"

She tilted her head, studying his awe with a smirk.

"What's the fuss going on in that head of yours, Fengyang?" she teased. "Did no one ever impart a technique to you before?"

"Imparted?" he asked, blinking. "What does that mean?"

Mingzhu chuckled, brushing back a strand of sweat-matted hair. "Silly Fengyang. Let me open those pretty eyes of yours."

She shifted slightly, resting more of her weight on him as she spoke, her tone equal parts playful and instructive.

"When a cultivator reaches absolute mastery in a technique, they can transfer that understanding directly to someone else—impart it. No need for trial and error, no meditation or insights. Just one touch... and it's yours."

She tapped her finger to his forehead again with a wink.

"But don't go thinking it's common. Very few ever reach that level. Even basic Qi Condensation techniques aren't easy to master fully. Some people misunderstand parts of the method, or they rely on brute force rather than true comprehension. As a result, they only unleash a portion of the technique's true power."

Fengyang listened, frowning slightly. "So most cultivators never really master the techniques they use?"

"Exactly. Their versions are flawed, patchy. The real thing—the true essence—is hard to grasp. But some of us..."

She gave a proud toss of her hair. "Some of us are born with the gift. Or maybe we just suffer more, love more, experience more. Whatever the reason, we get there."

"And you mastered the Twin Lotus Embrace?" he asked slowly.

"I mastered both halves," she said without a hint of shame. "Though obviously I can't use the male half myself."

That gave him pause. "Wait. You said only someone who's mastered a technique can impart it. But if you're a woman, how can you comprehend the male half deeply enough to pass it on?"

Her smile sharpened. "Ah. You are paying attention."

She leaned down, brushing her lips close to his ear.

"Unlike other techniques, dual cultivation is primal—older than sects, older than the sword arts, older than cultivation itself. It's the first kind of strength humanity ever gained, long before qi was refined. Men and women coupling... that act has always stirred power."

She paused, then continued in a voice soft with reverence—and just a touch of danger.

"It wasn't until the Night Serpent and the Sunfire Temptress that dual cultivation was forged into an actual technique. They created it during their century-long war of lust and dominance, refining what was once instinct into an art. And that became the root of all dual cultivation methods."

Fengyang nodded slowly. "I've heard of them... their method shook the cultivation world."

"Oh, it did more than that." Mingzhu grinned.

"Once their teachings spread, it lit a fire through both righteous and demonic sects. Weak cultivators leapt realms. Elders, grandmasters—even sect leaders—abandoned dogma and took to the bed. Because unlike yin drain or yang drain, which benefit only one side... true dual cultivation uplifts both."

She tapped his chest lightly.

"And here's the secret: unlike other techniques, dual cultivation can be mastered to absolution by anyone. No profound insight or years of bitter meditation required. You just need the right endowments. Potent yin, or strong yang. That's it."

Fengyang raised an eyebrow. "So if someone has a naturally strong... uh, dragon or flower..."

"Then their path is wide open." Her tone was amused, but there was steel beneath it.

"That's why it spread like wildfire. It felt right. No esoteric metaphors. No cryptic diagrams. Just instinct, pleasure, and connection."

"And that's how you mastered both halves?" he asked.

"Yes. It wasn't hard," she said with a sultry smile.

"My yin is potent, and my nether cave has welcomed enough dragons to know the rhythm of yang by heart. Familiarity breeds mastery. Genius sealed it."

Fengyang blinked. "And that's why I just... received all that knowledge in one touch?"

She leaned closer, her voice a whisper laced with pride.

"That's the beauty of technique impartation. When you've reached absolute mastery, you don't teach—you bestow. No flaws, no effort, no guesswork. I poured the entire technique into you... completely."

Mingzhu twirled a strand of her damp hair between her fingers, eyes still sparkling with mischief, when Fengyang leaned up on one elbow, his tone casual but pointed.

"I hope you're not forgetting what you promised."

Her lips curled into a teasing smile. "Oh, Fengyang... straight into business again?"

Without bothering to dress, she rose fluidly from the broken bed, her bare form unashamed under the fading amber light that spilled through the window.

Sweat still clung to her skin, a sheen that caught the evening glow along the curve of her hips and the small of her back.

Fengyang watched her move, but his attention flicked to the jade ring on his finger the moment it trembled.

A phantom coalesced above him—wispy, half-formed, but the sneering face of Elder Huo Yan was clear. The old ghost hovered in the air, stroking a translucent beard with a leer on his face.

"Hahaha! Brat, you really bagged yourself an ebony vixen this time," the old specter cackled. "The show's only gonna get better from here."

Fengyang sighed, glancing upward. "You really enjoy this, don't you, geezer?"

"How could I not appreciate it when the performance is this fine? You oughta tame her, brat. Make her your slave. She's wild, fierce—and damn good at it."

Fengyang raised an eyebrow. "And how exactly am I supposed to do that? I can't ask for another soul-binding pill."

Huo Yan snorted. "Soul-binding pill? Keke... Why go through all that effort when you can tame her with your cock?"

The young cultivator blinked. "What?"

"Keke. That's right," the old ghost chuckled, voice low and lecherous. "She's already addicted, brat. Just look at her. A few more nights and she won't be able to live without you. Vixens like her, who live for pleasure, always fall hardest. Make her moan till her soul shudders, and watch her spirit bend to you."

"You'd go to any length for your twisted entertainment, wouldn't you?"

"Absolutely," Huo Yan said without an ounce of shame.

Moments later, Mingzhu returned, her stride graceful, unbothered by her nudity. In her hands was an aged scroll, the edges lined with faded silver trim.

She handed it to Fengyang, a glint of satisfaction in her eyes.

"Here," she said. "One of my battle spoils. Took this from a righteous sect elder who died begging for his life."

He unfurled the scroll with care.

"Drifting Moonlight Steps" — a maneuvering technique that began at the Qi Condensation Realm but scaled with its user, evolving as one broke into Foundation Establishment and up to the Core Formation Realm.

It focused on explosive mobility and agile repositioning, condensing qi into powerful bursts beneath the soles.

Each step reduced weight, allowing for graceful, floating movement and sudden directional changes.

When mastered, the cultivator could dart through the air with near-silent steps, rebounding off surfaces mid-motion like a feather caught in a breeze.

"It's a lightweight movement technique," Mingzhu explained, reclining on the mattress like she owned the world. "Perfect for avoiding strikes and countering with speed. You won't be flying—but you'll be damn hard to hit."

She stretched, catlike, letting the evening glow play along the curves of her frame.

"It grows with you. The more your cultivation deepens, the more layers of the technique unlock. There are three known evolutions—one for Qi Condensation, one for Foundation Establishment, and one for Core Formation." She shrugged, lips curling.

Fengyang's eyes lingered on the scroll, heart quickening. A technique that grew with its user even if its only upto Core Formation Realm—it was still like holding a sword that sharpened itself.

"This will do," he murmured.

"Of course it will," Mingzhu purred. "Don't say I never spoil my partner."

Fengyang gave a long breath, rolling the scroll shut with care.

This was just the beginning.

As Fengyang traced the scroll's intricate diagrams, Mingzhu sauntered over to a lacquered box and pulled out a simple silver band etched with faint runes.

"A storage ring?" he asked.

She smirked and tossed it to him. "Use this. You'll be accumulating quite a few things from now on."

The moment he looked back up, Mingzhu was already on her feet, stretching like a lazy cat. Her bare skin gleamed in the soft light.

"Come on," she said over her shoulder. "We're a mess."

Without the slightest hint of shame, she sauntered toward the corridor—completely nude, her long legs gliding with practiced elegance, hips rolling with unhurried grace.

She didn't bother with even a robe.

Why would she? This was her manor, and her servants had seen her in far more compromising positions than simple nudity.

To Mingzhu, clothes were a mere suggestion, not a necessity.

Fengyang followed her just as bare, his pace unhurried, and his expression calm—unbothered now by the gazes that followed him.

Down the corridor, servants moved about in practiced silence, though not without stolen glances.

Some adjusted their postures respectfully, heads lowered, but others couldn't help themselves.

A few of the younger maids flushed as their eyes dipped briefly to his well-hung endowment, their cheeks blooming crimson before they turned away quickly, whispering behind sleeves and fans.

"His... it's even bigger than I imagined," one of them stammered under her breath, face burning.

Another murmured with envy, "No wonder Master Mingzhu's legs were trembling earlier..."

"That's the third time this month," one young maid whispered, not even trying to hide her giggle.

"Master Mingzhu really got him good," another murmured. "Didn't think she'd snag the Core Disciple's husband."

"Do you think he's staying the night?" someone added from behind a lacquered pillar.

"She's probably not letting him leave."

"Would you?"

There were smirks and giggles as the group of them exchanged knowing looks, all the while trying to maintain their decorum as best they could in the presence of their utterly shameless, thoroughly satisfied mistress—and the man who had clearly left quite an impression, in more ways than one.

The sound of soft laughter and murmured teasing trailed behind them as they entered the marble bath pavilion.

The steam rose like silk around them, veiling the warm pool beneath.

Mingzhu sank into it with a contented sigh, leaning back until the water reached her neck.

When her trusted female servant approached, Mingzhu beckoned her close and whispered something into her ear.

The girl's eyes widened slightly, then nodded and left swiftly.

The pair soaked in the warm waters for a while, cleansing themselves of sweat and lingering passion.

The water swirled faintly pink for just a moment before settling clear again.

Eventually, the same servant returned with soft towels.

Mingzhu stepped out of the pool first, water cascading down her figure, and as she dried off.

Fengyang followed, and together they returned to her chambers.

Inside, the room had been completely transformed.

The air smelled of sweet nether blossom petals, thick and heady, washing over the lingering traces of sex that had saturated the air.

The ruined bed had been removed and replaced with a fresh, plush one.

Even the sheets were new, trimmed in violet silk.

Mingzhu's robes were laid out nearby, alongside fresh clothes for Fengyang.

Another servant, a different young woman, remained in the room after delivering the garments.

In her hands was a small, ornate box.

Before dressing, Mingzhu wrapped her arms around Fengyang's neck and pulled him into a heated kiss.

Her lips moved slowly, sensually, as if savoring the taste of his mouth one last time.

Then she broke it with a soft smirk. "Enjoyed yourself?"

He gave her a dry look. "Hard not to, considering you kept trying to break the bed."

"It broke itself," she quipped, slipping into her robe.

Fengyang finally donned the robes provided, adjusting the sash.

As he did, the silent servant stepped forward and presented the box to him with a bow.

Curious, he opened it—then blinked, stunned.

Inside was her black silk thong, folded delicately.

"Really?" he said, brows raised.

Mingzhu chuckled, clearly entertained.

"Darling, didn't I say I'd let you keep it as a souvenir?"

"I thought you were teasing."

"Oh no." She tapped his chest with a sly smile. "That little token is yours now. You'll thank me next time you miss me."

He slid it into the storage ring with a sigh. "You're truly shameless."

"And you like it," she purred.

Before he could answer, she leaned in close again, her voice a breath against his ear. "I'm always free, Fengyang. Come find me whenever you want."

Her eyes sparkled with hungry delight. "The only thing that matters is your dragon in my nether cave."

As twilight painted the skies in hues of violet and gold, the soft light filtered through the high windows, casting elongated shadows across the chamber floor.

Mingzhu stood by the doorway, already dressed in a loose robe of midnight silk that clung to her curves like a lover's final caress.

Her damp hair fell down her back, gleaming like wet ink.

Despite her composed appearance, her bare feet and faintly flushed cheeks still betrayed the indulgence that had just passed.

She watched Fengyang finish tying his sash, her arms folded beneath her chest, one hip cocked in idle satisfaction.

"It's getting late," she said, her tone breezy. "You should go before the Meiyin's servants start whispering that I've stolen you for good."

Fengyang gave her a wry look. "They're probably already whispering that."

She grinned, unabashed. "Good. Let them."

With that, she stepped aside, gesturing grandly toward the open doorway like a queen bidding farewell to her favored consort.

Fengyang paused as he reached the threshold, turning to glance back one last time.

She met his gaze with that same lazy confidence, the corner of her mouth curling. "Come back soon. Or don't. I'll drag you here myself either way."

He smirked. "Next time, try not to destroy the furniture."

"No promises," she said with a wink.

And as he stepped out into the fading light, the door closing softly behind him.

Inside, Mingzhu stood alone, the glow of the setting sun catching the glint of her eyes.

Shameless. Unrepentant. Utterly satisfied.

And already plotting her next move.