Meng Yi

  Awareness began within. Her self. Her qi. Fuller, richer, greater, by factors so large that what she was now and what she’d been were so far apart as to not be comparable even by the most accommodating scale.

  Meng Yi marvelled at it, utterly awed by the incredible metamorphosis her being had undergone.

  She stood at the heart of a web, each of its strands a crystalline thread leading off into eternity.

  She turned, curious, and the entire structure thrummed with the motion, threads so taut and so sensitive that the slightest movement reverberated throughout the whole.

  The web didn’t vibrate alone, channelling the energy into her through her connection with it, and she felt it like a new sense, impossible to describe to one without it, but entirely comprehensible to her.

  Meng Yi took an experimental step to the side, and again the web thrummed with the motion, then proceeded to feed the stimulus back into her.

  She did it again, then again, on and on, the web vibrating with her movement.

  The vibrations had an almost musical hum to them, like chanting.

  It was quite intriguing, and Meng Yi could have played about on that web for weeks, but, entirely of its own accord, her awareness shifted outward, and suddenly the sun was beside her.

  Meng Yi gaped.

  If she was a well, calm and still, with hidden depths, then this… this wasn’t even a river, it was the sea.

  In fact, no, it was nothing as ordinary as the sea, it is the sun!

  No analogy was needed to describe its power. Not this. All one had to do to know its magnificence was to simply gaze upon it. And gaze upon it Meng Yi did.

  By all logic, the light it emitted should be blinding. Its heat should be scorching. Its weight crushing. But they weren’t.

  The light didn’t blind, it illuminated. The heat warmed but never burned, and the weight wrapped around her like a hug.

  Meng Yi basked in it.

  Despite how immense it was compared to her relative insignificance, the sun noticed her presence quickly, and suddenly it was like it shone only for her, it’s focus on nothing but her existence.

  That fact caused a delicious tingle to run down Meng Yi’s spine, and she snuggled deeper into the colossal orb of endless, blazing warmth.

  Entirely unbidden, strands from her webs reached out, pressing fruitlessly against the sun and seeking entrance into it.

  The sun seemed to pause for a moment, peering curiously at the little strands that it could turn into ash with but an errant thought.

  Even only pressed up against its surface as they were, the threads were already tapping into the warmth of the sun, and just like they had with motion, they channelled this new energy into Meng Yi too, lighting up her insides with warmth unlike she could ever receive from pressing her body against it alone. Then the sun allowed her threads in, and Meng Yi’s insides melted.

  She moaned, a blazing heat exploding out from her core to the farthest reaches of her being, leaving her toes curled in pleasure.

  Through the threads, she felt a gentle hum vibrate into her being, stirring up her liquid center.

  Meng Yi moaned a second time.

  Unrelenting, the hum came again, this time causing an intensely pleasant vibration that dropped just a little lower.

  Meng Yi rubbed her thighs together reflexively.

  Her body shook.

  Unlike the other sensations however, this was external, and though she tried to ignore it, the decidedly unpleasant motion persisted until she moaned angrily and opened bleary eyes.

  A man’s face hung above hers. She knew him.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  The memory of a different man almost surfaced for a moment, but Meng Yi batted it aside. That was a lesser man who could only dream of attaining this man’s brilliance, for the man whose face hung above hers now was the sun, and Meng Yi called him her Young Master.

  She squeezed deeper into his side. “You feel wonderful,” she said.

  He blinked, momentarily taken aback by her words. Meng Yi could not understand why he would be. Could he not feel himself?

  “Well, um… thank you,” her Young Master said, sending more of those pleasant vibrations flying into her. She felt her womanhood moisten.

  Ah. So that was his voice. Of course it was.

  For reasons beyond her comprehension, he looked at her with worry.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  She smiled at him, body buzzing and melting with pleasure at every sensation from him. “Whyever would I not be?”

  He opened his mouth silently, not quite sure how to answer that, and Meng Yi had a fleeting thought as she stared into the cavity, wondering how warm his mouth would feel if she were to shove her tongue into it.

  She giggled at the thought.

  “You’re acting drunk,” her Young Master said and tried to pull her from him.

  Meng Yi gripped tighter to him, panic at losing this oh-so-pleasurable contact filling her.

  “No, no,” she whimpered, pressing her face into his chest, and even though her strength was inconsequential compared to his, he let her hold on.

  Meng Yi relaxed.

  She was just beginning to lose herself in the pleasure of his presence again, when, even through the aura of the sun surrounding her, she sensed an entity approaching. A tiger. Regal and proud. Fierce and mighty.

  Nowhere near as mighty as the sun, of course, but that was only to be expected.

  Her face still pressed into his chest, she said, “The tiger is coming.” Then she took a long drag of his smell, her body relaxing with it.

  He smelled like a meadow on a warm summer day.

  “The tiger?” her Young Master asked, then she felt his focus shift, and she whined unhappily for it.

  “Xiuying,” he said, as his sense settled on the tiger, and Meng Yi frowned. Yes, that was the name of the interrupting tiger, wasn’t it? Dragging her Young Master’s focus from her. How selfish.

  “Thank Heaven. Maybe she can help me figure out whatever this is.”

  As it approached, the tiger noticed them, and its gaze shifted in their direction.

  Meng Yi felt it tilt its head in curiosity, before a flare of understanding ran through its qi and it rushed forward and leapt up gracefully to perch on the windowsill two storeys up.

  “Well, this is not what I was expecting,” the annoying interloper said.

  “Something’s wrong with her,” Young Master said. “It’s almost like she’s drunk.”

  “Yeah, she is. On your qi,” Xiuying says like it should be obvious.

  Meng Yi didn’t much like her tone. Nor did she like that her words were causing her Young Master to worry that he was somehow harming Meng Yi.

  “Wait, this is my fault?” He tried to separate from her again, but she held on tighter to him, and like last time, he relented and let her stay pressed to him.

  “I wouldn’t exactly say your fault,” Xiuying says, stepping into the room. “And, honestly, forget fault, I want to know how the fuck she has this much qi sensitivity to start with.”

  “Qi sensitivity? That’s what’s causing this?”

  “Yeah, it is. I’ve never seen anyone this qi sensitive in my life. Is this the method you gave her?”

  Meng Yi heard Xiuying pick up something, and if she’d bothered to look, she would have seen that it was the method manual that her Young Master had given her just last night.

  “Path of The Crystal Web,” Xiuying read aloud. “Never heard of it.”

  She felt her Young Master shrug.

  “Can’t just be the method though,” Xiuying continued. “Which means she’s always been this qi sensitive or… Qigang, what did you give her?”

  “What? I didn’t give her anything.”

  “Wait… the noble rank treasure you gave her some days ago, the one you blew up your kitchen trying to destroy, was it a Golden Mango?”

  “Oh, uh… yes?”

  “Mystery solved,” Xiuying said.

  “It is?” her Young Master sounded hopeful.

  “Of course it is. You gave her a noble rank fruit that boosts qi sensitivity, and then put her next to the fucking sun when she just entered Weaving phase. What did you expect?”

  “I don’t know, I’m not an expert on cultivation.”

  “That’s no excuse to be this bad at it, Qigang.”

  “Fair enough. So, how do we fix this?”

  “I don’t know, I’m not an expert on cultivation either,” Xiuying says.

  “Are you kidding me? After giving me all that crap?” her Young Master asked, and Meng Yi had to admit that he had a point.

  “Don’t compare me to you,” Xiuying fired back. “I have a normal amount of knowledge. You’re incompetent.”

  “Don’t call him names,” Meng Yi warned, and reflexively, a few strands of her web reached out to jab the woman in the chest.

  Xiuying froze.

  “Qigang,” she said with forced calm. “Please, tell me you also gave Yi a technique manual.”

  “What? No, of course not.”

  “Mm-hmm. Okay. So, then could you please explain to me how the fuck a peasant rank cultivator in the first layer of Weaving phase is doing that!?”

  Her Young Master sounded nonplussed. “The string thing?”

  “String thing? Young Master Xian, they’re webs,” Meng Yi whined. It was important to her that he knew that.

  “Oh, sorry. Webs. That actually makes more sense,” he said, patting her on the head, and Meng Yi moaned happily and returned to snuggling to him.

  “I don’t give a fuck whether they’re strings or threads, how the fuck are you doing it!?” Xiuying near screamed.

  Meng Yi cracked an eye open to shoot the noisy woman a nasty look, only to catch the web she’d poked said noisy woman with still hanging in the air.

  “Wow,” she said, the small mass of crystalline threads woven together to form a thicker web moving closer to her face.

  As it moved, it caught and reflected the light, glittering with all the colours of the rainbow.

  “Pretty,” she said.

  “Yes, it is,” her Young Master agreed, and she smiled happily and snuggled back into him.

  Her insides were no longer the molten mess that his sheer presence had made them, but her connection with him still left her feeling like she imagined it must feel like to be a cloud.

  She closed her eyes, the web her Young Master had called pretty dissolving into qi.

  Suddenly tired, she yawned.

  Xiuying started to speak, but her Young Master shushed her, and Meng Yi drifted back into slumber with a smile on her face.