The Martial God who started at Mantuo Manor

Page 43

But when her nose touched the skin of her arm, she still smelled that stench that was driving her almost crazy.

It turns out that the smell was no longer clinging to her.

Rather, it emanated from within her body, emanating from the inside out.

She, Shi Feixuan, had become a walking vessel, filled with that man's pungent odor...

"Feixuan".

Shi Feixuan looked up abruptly and saw the gray-robed nun standing there quietly.

Her face remained calm and composed, as if nothing in the world could shake her composure.

"Master..."

Shi Feixuan's voice was filled with endless grievances and despair, and tears streamed down her face once again.

"Come in!"

Shi Feixuan entered the room.

“Foolish child, appearances are inherently empty; they are nothing but a shell.”

Fan Qinghui's voice was gentle, yet it carried a calming power: "As long as your sword heart remains clear and your Dao heart remains steadfast, all external things are illusory."

The sound of Buddhist chanting entered her ears like a clear spring flowing through her heart, calming Shi Feixuan's nearly collapsing mind somewhat.

She barely managed to gather a trace of true energy, wanting to stabilize her Dao heart as her master had instructed.

But as soon as she focused her mind, the pungent smell emanating from the depths of his body, belonging to that man, surged into her nostrils again like a curse, instantly shattering the last vestiges of her composure.

"No...no..."

Shi Feixuan shook her head in anguish, tears mingling with well water streaming down her face: "Master... I can't do it... This taste... This taste... It's... It's inside me... I can't wash it off... I can never wash it off..."

She clung to her master's clothes like a drowning person, as if it were the last straw, her eyes filled with pleading.

Looking at her disciple's deeply troubled and nearly insane state, Fan Qinghui's once calm eyes turned from pity to ice.

She knew that for Shi Feixuan at this moment, any gentle comfort would only be a superficial attempt to soothe her.

Without destruction, there can be no construction; a mental illness requires a mental cure, and that cure must be a strong one!

Her expression suddenly turned serious, and her voice became cold and icy, carrying a stern tone as if struck by lightning. Each word clearly reached Shi Feixuan's ears: "You no longer have any scent on you."

"What has flavor is your heart."

These words struck Shi Feixuan's heart like a heavy hammer, instantly bringing all her chaotic thoughts to a standstill.

She stared blankly at her master, the endless grievances and despair in her eyes now replaced by a deeper sense of confusion and shock.

Fan Qinghui stared directly at her, her sharp, sword-like eyes seemingly seeing through the deepest obsessions and demons in her heart.

"You are fixated on the purity of your physical body, but you have forgotten that what you are cultivating is never this stinking body, but this Dao heart that can be 'clear and bright'."

Fan Qinghui's voice remained cold, yet carried an undeniable authority: "You feel that this body has been defiled, possessed by that man's aura, so your heart has also been defiled, imprisoned by that 'scent'."

Shi Feixuan's lips trembled slightly, but she couldn't utter a single word in rebuttal.

"Today, I will show you with your own eyes what it means for the mind not to be enslaved by the body."

Before she could finish speaking, under Shi Feixuan's shocked and incredulous gaze, Fan Qinghui's fair hands slowly untied the belt of her monk's robe at her waist.

The spotless white robe that symbolized her status as the head of Cihang Jingzhai slipped down her rounded shoulders and silently piled up on the ground behind her, revealing a mature and voluptuous figure that made the world pale in comparison.

That wasn't the youthful, innocent, and radiant beauty of Shi Feixuan.

Instead, it was a truly mature and exquisitely beautiful body, as smooth and delicate as top-grade white porcelain, with every curve exuding a fatal allure.

Those towering snow-capped peaks were even more magnificent than Shi Feixuan's, with two bright red buds at their tips standing proudly in the cool mountain wind, exuding a unique fragrance.

Beneath her flat stomach, the neatly trimmed patch of grass appeared even more mysterious and secluded.

"Master...Master...you..."

Shi Feixuan was completely dumbfounded; she couldn't understand what was happening before her eyes.

Fan Qinghui ignored her shock.

She walked naked to a chair in front of her disciples and sat down cross-legged with an extremely dignified posture, as if she were not naked, but the Buddha preaching the Dharma.

Then, in front of Shi Feixuan, she slowly extended her right hand.

The hand that held the Cihang Sword Manual gently landed on her mysterious valley.

Her face still held that calm, compassionate, and solemn expression, but her fingers, without hesitation, parted her two petals, still attached to them.

Shi Feixuan's breathing stopped completely at that moment.

She watched as her master, the one who was as sacred as a god in her heart, gently touched the crystal-clear protrusion hidden deep in the petals with her middle finger, without the slightest hint of malice.

"Feixuan, look carefully!"

Fan Qinghui's voice remained calm, even carrying a hint of instruction: "Physical pleasure is nothing more than the flow of qi and blood."

It will come, and it will go.

It can make you happy, or it can make you suffer.

But all of this depends on how you perceive it.

As she spoke, the movements of her fingertips began to quicken.

A faint blush gradually appeared on her dignified and compassionate face, and her breathing began to become a little rapid, but her eyes remained clear as a mirror, staring straight at her disciple who was completely dumbfounded.

"You can indulge in it, let it dominate your mind, and turn you into a slave to desire."

You can also… master it, observe it, and treat it as a form of spiritual practice, a test of your true self.

A suppressed, strangely trembling moan escaped her throat.

The voice was incredibly alluring, yet the solemn expression on her face gave it an indescribable eeriness and holiness.

Her waist began to sway gently involuntarily, and from the depths of her valley, clear fluid continuously flowed out, making her fingers and that mysterious area glisten and muddy.

At this moment, Shi Feixuan's worldview was completely and ruthlessly overturned and shattered!

She looked at her master, right in front of her, doing the most sacred thing in the most holy manner.

The intense visual impact left her mind blank.

"Uh... ah..."

Finally, Fan Qinghui's body stiffened abruptly, and a strong spasm rose from her tailbone, instantly spreading throughout her body.

She tilted her head back, her long neck forming a graceful arc, and let out a long, satisfied moan.

Gushes of water gushed from her body, soaking the bluestone beneath her.

After the afterglow of the climax subsided, she slowly lowered her hand, and her breathing gradually calmed down.

She lowered her head to look at the still-flowing water, then raised her head to look at her disciple, her clear eyes carrying a hint of all-knowing wisdom.

"Did you see that, Feixuan?"

It came, and now it's gone.

My heart has always remained here, unwavering in the slightest.

"Now, do you still think that it's your body that has a smell?"

As the tide receded, the room returned to silence.

Outside the window, only the rustling of the wind through the treetops proved that the world had not stopped turning because of that earth-shattering scene.

Shi Feixuan is like a white jade statue whose faith has been shattered by lightning.

Her soul seemed to have been completely ripped from her body by her master's long, drawn-out groan, a mixture of extreme pleasure and sacred solemnity, and drifted in the void, unable to find its way home.

What did she see?

She saw her revered master, the head of Cihang Jingzhai and leader of the Li Tang righteous path, with the most dignified posture, naked, with a body more sacred than Chang'e in the moon, and in front of her, using his own fingers to send her to the peak of desire.

Those suppressed gasps, those twisting waists, those gushing forth from the depths of the valley... every scene was like a red-hot blade, repeatedly cutting and branding her "sword-heart-clear" Dao heart.

Everything she believed in, everything she held dear, was ground to dust by her master in the most incredible and shocking way at this moment.

Fan Qinghui slowly stood up from the chair. She didn't rush to put on her clothes, but instead walked back to the basin naked, her perfect body still flushed with the afterglow of her orgasm.

She walked up to Shi Feixuan, squatted down, and calmly and slowly dipped her right hand, which had just brought her unparalleled pleasure and was still stained with her own, into the clear water to gently wash it.

Her movements were elegant and composed, as if she were washing away not dirty bodily fluids, but merely residual ink from her paintbrush.

"Now, do you still think that it's your body that has a smell?"

Fan Qinghui's voice returned to its usual gentleness and compassion, as if the woman who had just been trembling with desire was merely an illusion in her disciple's eyes.

Shi Feixuan's lips moved slightly, her gaze blankly fixed on her master's fingers as he washed them in the water, watching the glistening liquid disappear into nothingness.

"Is a man's scent really that important?"

Fan Qinghui looked at her, her gaze clear, as if it could reflect all the obsessions deep in her soul. "Compared to what I just did, what is your so-called 'defilement'?"

boom--!

These words, like a thunderbolt from the sky, exploded in Shi Feixuan's mind!

Yes... Compared to what Master just did, what is my experience of being forced?

Her master could openly and frankly pursue physical pleasure in front of her, and afterwards, her mind remained as calm as an ancient well.

But I, for the sake of a passive, long-lost outcome, am trapped here, almost destroying my own Dao heart.

The moment this thought arose, a strange feeling occurred.

She... suddenly couldn't smell it anymore.

That masculine, pungent smell that had once driven her mad and made her nauseous vanished from her senses in that instant.

It wasn't washed away by water, nor covered by soap; rather, it simply vanished abruptly and completely from her consciousness.

It was as if it had never existed.

A glimmer of light finally returned to Shi Feixuan's eyes.

She suddenly looked up, staring at her master in shock.

A relieved and compassionate smile finally appeared on Fan Qinghui's face.