Midnight draped the ancestral altar in velvet shadow.
The chamber lay deep beneath the Codex Tower—circular, thirty paces across, floored with black jade veined in living crimson. At its heart rose the Lotus Bed a single slab of warm spirit-wood, wide enough for five bodies, carved with channels that glowed faintly when qi-rich seed spilled into them. Above, the ceiling was a dome of crystal; through it, the blood moon hung bloated and red, bathing everything in rose light.
Wei entered first, naked, cock already half-hard from the incense-heavy air. Four braziers burned lotus resin and deer musk; the scent sank into his lungs like liquid heat. Behind him, the great doors sealed with a hiss of qi wards. No one would leave until dawn—and until every woman bore his mark inside her.
Hua came next, primary wife, crimson silk clinging to the gentle curve of her three-month belly. The fabric was slit from throat to navel, framing heavy breasts now fuller with pregnancy. She carried the golden lotus pendant between them like a brand.
Lan followed, silver pendant trembling against her small, pert breasts. Her robe was palest pink, tied with a single ribbon at the waist. One tug would bare her completely.
Xue entered third, black jade pendant stark against olive skin. She wore nothing but a thin chain of spirit pearls around her hips; they clicked softly as she walked, drawing every eye to the sway of her ass and the glistening seam between her thighs.
Last came Li Mei—mother, still unpendanted, but the elders had granted her this night as witness and vessel Her robe was white, mourning-pure, yet it clung to every mature curve: the weight of her breasts, the flare of hips that had borne him, the dark triangle visible through damp silk. She carried a jade bowl of warmed vitality oil.
The four women formed a loose circle around Wei. Hua spoke first, voice steady despite the tremor in her thighs.
"The Codex demands witness. Let the bed drink our union."
She untied her robe. It pooled at her feet. Pregnancy had softened her—breasts heavier, nipples darker, a faint line of gold running from navel to mons. She lay on the Lotus Bed, knees falling open. The carved channels beneath her pussy began to glow.
Wei knelt between her thighs. The oil bowl was passed; he poured a stream over her folds, watching it coat swollen lips, trickle into her entrance. Hua sighed as his fingers spread it, two slipping inside to curl gently. She was already slick, inner walls fluttering.
"Slowly," she reminded. "Let them see."
He positioned himself, cockhead nudging her heat. One steady push—she took him to the root with a low moan. The bed drank the first drop of precum that leaked when he bottomed out. Qi flared crimson-gold, threading up the carved channels like rivers of light.
Lan crawled onto the bed, kneeling at Hua's head. She bent to kiss the primary wife—soft, then deeper, tongues sliding as Wei began a languid rhythm. Each thrust into Hua pushed a gasp into Lan's mouth. The younger girl's small hand slipped between her own thighs, rubbing in time.
Xue moved behind Wei. Her oiled breasts pressed to his back; pearls cool against his spine. She reached around, fingers joining his where he gripped Hua's hip, guiding deeper strokes. Her other hand cupped his balls, rolling gently, keeping him on the edge.
Mei remained standing, robe now open, one hand lazily circling her clit as she watched her son claim his wives. Her eyes never left the place where Wei disappeared into Hua again and again, the slick sounds wet and rhythmic.
Minutes stretched. Hua's breaths grew ragged; her belly tightened. "Lan—now."
The younger girl shifted, straddling Hua's face. Hua's tongue darted out, lapping at Lan's dripping slit. Lan whimpered, grinding down, silver pendant swinging between her small breasts.
Wei's pace faltered—watching his pregnant wife eat his youngest consort while he fucked her was almost too much. Xue's teeth grazed his shoulder. "Focus. Seed Hua first."
He obeyed, hips snapping harder. Hua's muffled cry vibrated against Lan's clit; both women shattered at once—Hua's walls clamping down, milking him in rhythmic pulses. Wei buried deep and let go, flooding her womb with thick spurts that overflowed to trickle into the bed's glowing channels. The lotus carving beneath them flared bright crimson.
Lan came seconds later, thighs trembling around Hua's head, juices coating the primary wife's chin.
Xue pulled Wei free with a wet pop. His cock glistened, still rigid. She lay back beside Hua, legs spreading wide. The pearls at her hips parted, revealing her slick entrance. "My turn. Warriors are forged in fire."
Wei entered her in one thrust. Xue hissed, back arching, nails raking his chest. She was tighter after orgasm, walls rippling in waves that dragged a groan from his throat. Lan, still trembling, crawled over to suckle Xue's breast, pink tongue flicking the dark nipple.
Mei finally moved. She knelt behind Wei, oiled hands sliding down his back to spread his cheeks. A single finger, slick with vitality oil, circled his entrance—gentle pressure, not penetration, just enough to make his cock jerk inside Xue. "Breathe, my heart," she whispered against his ear. "Let Mother steady you."
The dual sensations—Xue's clenching heat, Mei's teasing finger—pushed him toward the edge again. Lan's mouth moved to Xue's clit; the warrior consort bucked, cursing softly. Wei lasted only a dozen strokes before Xue locked her ankles behind his back and demanded, "Inside—now."
He spilled with a guttural sound, pumping rope after rope into her depths. The bed's channels drank greedily, glowing brighter. Xue's climax followed, inner muscles spasming, milking every drop.
Lan was next. She lay on her back, knees to chest, small body folded open. Wei slid into her slowly—she was untouched until this night, and even oiled, she was exquisitely tight. Lan's eyes watered, but she smiled through it, hands clutching his forearms.
"Gentle, Wei-ge… then hard."
He gave her both—slow, stretching thrusts that opened her inch by inch, then deeper, faster strokes as she adjusted. Hua and Xue flanked them, kissing Lan's breasts, stroking her clit in tandem. Mei knelt at Wei's side, lips brushing his ear, murmuring encouragement as her son claimed his third wife.
Lan came with a broken cry, pussy fluttering around him like a heartbeat. Wei followed, filling her tiny body until seed leaked around his shaft, painting her thighs white.
Exhausted, he collapsed beside them. But the bed's glow had only reached three-quarters brightness. One channel remained dark.
Mei rose. Her white robe fell away. She was forty, but cultivation kept her body lush—breasts heavy with blue veins, hips wide, pussy framed by dark curls slick with hours of arousal. She straddled Wei's hips, guiding his still-hard cock—buoyed by qi and youth—into her.
The moment he breached her, the bed roared to life. Every channel blazed. Qi surged in a vortex, crimson and gold and indigo and silver, centering on their joined bodies. Mei rode him slowly, tears on her cheeks—not sorrow, but overwhelming resonance.
"My son… my husband in all but name…" she whispered.
The other three women curled around them—Hua's hand on Mei's breast, Lan's fingers laced with Wei's, Xue's lips on his throat. Together they moved, a single organism of flesh and qi.
Wei thrust up; Mei ground down. The climax built like a storm over the mountains. When it broke, it was silent—only the wet sounds of their joining, the soft cries of five voices in harmony. Wei's seed flooded his mother's womb; her walls clenched in perfect answer. The Lotus Bed drank until the last drop, then flared white.
The dome above shattered into a rain of harmless light. Dawn's first ray pierced the crystal, gilding their sweat-slicked bodies.
The sealing was complete.
Outside, the clan cheered—the sound muffled through stone. Inside, Wei lay spent, surrounded by his wives, his mother's head on his chest.
The Crimson Codex pulsed once, satisfied.
Somewhere in the mountains, a new blood moon was already rising.
Three weeks had passed since the Lotus Bed drank its fill.
The clan moved like a hive swollen with honey—every corridor hummed with quiet triumph. Hua's belly rounded faster under the blood moon's lingering influence; Lan practiced sword forms with a new, fluid grace; Xue drilled the junior warriors until they dropped, then rewarded the strongest with a night in her pavilion. And Li Mei—still unpendanted, still Mother—walked the inner gardens at dawn, fingers brushing the faint swell low in her abdomen that no one yet dared name.
Wei trained from sunrise to dusk.
The sealing had cracked open his dantian; qi now roared through his meridians like mountain rivers in spring. Elders whispered of early Core Formation, a prodigy unseen in two centuries. But power came with hunger. Every night he woke rigid and aching, cock slick with dreams of the altar—of Hua's pregnant cunt gripping him, Lan's tiny body folded beneath, Xue's warrior thighs locked around his hips, Mei's maternal heat swallowing him whole.
Tonight the hunger would be fed.
The Right of Flowing Seed had been invoked for the first time.
In the eastern wing, Cousin Meilin—nineteen, betrothed to a branch cousin who'd broken his leg in a spar—knelt on crimson cushions in the Moonlit Teahouse. Her husband had granted leave with a wry smile: "Let the main line strengthen us all."Meilin's robe was already pooled at her waist, small breasts bared, nipples tight from nervous excitement. Between her thighs, a neat strip of black hair glistened; she had oiled herself in preparation, scent of jasmine and arousal thick in the air.
Wei entered barefoot, silk trousers low on his hips. The door sealed behind him with a soft click of qi. Meilin's breath hitched.
"Cousin Wei…" She bowed, forehead to the mat. "I am honored."
He lifted her chin. "Look at me."
Her eyes—hazel, wide—met his. He saw fear, yes, but also eagerness. The Codex was law; refusal was dishonor. But Meilin had *chosen* this, had begged her husband for the privilege of tasting the main line's seed.
Wei untied his trousers. His cock sprang free, heavier than before the sealing, veins prominent with surging qi. Meilin's lips parted.
"May I… taste first?" she whispered.
He nodded. She crawled forward, small hands wrapping the base. Her tongue darted—tentative, then bolder, swirling the crown, lapping the bead of precum that welled anew. Wei groaned, fingers threading her hair. She took him deeper, cheeks hollowing, throat working to swallow half his length. Saliva slicked him; soft, wet sounds filled the teahouse.
When his balls drew tight, he pulled her off gently. "On the cushions. I want to see you open."
Meilin lay back, knees falling wide. Her pussy was petite, lips flushed dark, entrance fluttering. Wei knelt between her thighs, rubbing his slick cockhead along her slit—up, down, coating himself in her juices. She whimpered, hips lifting.
"Please…"
He entered slowly. She was tighter than Lan, less experienced than Hua. Her walls stretched around him, inner muscles rippling in shock. Wei paused, letting her adjust, thumbs circling her hipbones.
"Breathe," he murmured. "Take me like the clan takes the mountain—inch by inch."
She exhaled shakily. He pushed deeper—halfway, then more, until his balls pressed flush against her ass. Meilin's eyes rolled back; a soft cry escaped her. Qi flared between them—his crimson-gold meeting her softer rose. Not the perfect resonance of his sealed wives, but strong enough. Strong enough to strengthen the line.
He began to move—long, deliberate strokes that dragged along every sensitive ridge inside her. Meilin's small hands clutched his forearms, nails digging crescents. Her breasts jiggled with each thrust; he bent to suck one nipple, then the other, tasting faint salt.
"Faster," she begged, voice breaking.
Wei obliged. The teahouse filled with the wet slap of skin, her rising moans, his low grunts. He shifted angle—cockhead nudging the spot that made her sob—and her climax crashed sudden and hard. Walls clamped down, milking him in rhythmic pulses.
He followed with a guttural sound, burying deep and flooding her. Thick ropes painted her womb; excess leaked around his shaft, staining the crimson cushions. The teahouse's floor—carved with minor qi channels—glowed faintly, drinking the overflow.
Meilin trembled beneath him, tears of overwhelm on her cheeks. Wei kissed them away.
"Your husband will have a strong son," he promised.
She laughed breathlessly. "Or daughter. Either way… thank you."
He withdrew slowly, watching his seed trickle from her swollen folds. Meilin's fingers dipped into the mess, bringing it to her lips with a shy smile.
Outside, the moon climbed higher. Somewhere in the western wing, another cousin waited—then another. The Right of Flowing Seed was a river now, and Wei its source.
But as he dressed, a soft knock sounded. Li Mei slipped inside, white robe clinging to her fuller breasts, nipples dark against the silk. Her hand rested low on her belly—still flat to most eyes, but Wei saw the truth.
"The elders confirm it," she whispered. "Your seed took in me the night of the sealing. A daughter, they say."
Meilin gasped, bowing deeply. Wei's cock—still half-hard—twitched at the thought.
Mei stepped close, fingers brushing his lips. "When she is born, the Codex will grant me the final pendant. Until then…" Her hand slid lower, wrapping his shaft through the silk. "Practice on every womb offered. Make the clan unbreakable."
She kissed him—slow, maternal, filthy with promise—then left as silently as she came.
Meilin watched the door close, then looked up at Wei with awe. "You'll be the father of us all."
Wei smiled, already hardening again. The night was young, and the Crimson Lotus never slept
The first frost kissed the Crimson Lotus peaks, turning the lotus ponds into mirrors of pale fire.
Wei's name now echoed in every pavilion, every training yard, every hushed conversation behind silk screens. The Right of Flowing Seed had become a quiet tide: husbands stepped aside with proud nods, wives bathed in scented oils and waited on moonlit verandas, and the clan's qi grew richer with every shared climax.
Tonight the tide carried him to the Jade Spring Bathhouse a cavern of steaming pools fed by a qi-infused hot spring. The water glowed faint turquoise, said to enhance fertility and stamina. Three women awaited him—none of his sealed wives, all eager vessels of the Codex.
Cousin Yawen twenty, married to a scholar-cousin who spent nights buried in scrolls. Her body was lush—wide hips, heavy breasts, skin like polished ivory.
Cousin Shuang eighteen, newly betrothed, still untouched by her fiancé. Slender, long-legged, small breasts with dark, sensitive nipples.
Aunt Liling thirty-five, widowed twice, her late husbands lost to border skirmishes. Curved like a drawn bow, muscle under softness, a faint scar across one hip from a beast's claw.
They knelt on the marble edge as Wei entered, naked, steam curling around his thighs. His cock jutted heavy and flushed, already leaking from the walk through frost-kissed corridors. The women's eyes followed the sway of it like worshippers tracking incense.
Yawen spoke first, voice husky. "My husband asks that you fill me tonight. He wishes a son with main-line eyes."
Shuang's cheeks burned. "My betrothed grants leave… but begs I learn slowly. I've never—"
Liling silenced her with a gentle finger to lips. "Then we teach." She rose, robe falling away. Her body was a map of experience—stretch marks faint silver on her belly, breasts full and slightly pendulous, pussy framed by trimmed curls already glistening. She stepped into the pool, water lapping her calves.
Wei followed. The spring embraced him like warm silk. Yawen and Shuang joined, robes discarded. Four bodies in the glowing water—steam, qi, and the scent of aroused women thick in the air.
Liling took charge. She guided Shuang to sit on the pool's carved ledge, thighs spread. The girl's virgin slit was delicate pink, lips barely parted. Liling knelt between them, tongue darting out to taste. Shuang gasped, small hands clutching the marble.
"Watch," Liling murmured to Wei. "Learn how a woman opens."
Her tongue worked slowly—long licks from entrance to clit, then gentle circles. Shuang's hips rolled; soft whimpers echoed off the cavern walls. Yawen moved behind Wei, breasts pressing to his back, hands sliding down his abs to wrap his cock. She stroked lazily, thumb smearing precum over the crown.
Wei groaned. The sight of Liling eating the virgin girl while Yawen pumped him was dizzying. Qi shimmered across the water—his crimson-gold threading with Liling's deep indigo, Yawen's soft rose, Shuang's untouched silver.
When Shuang's thighs trembled on the edge, Liling pulled back. "Your turn, nephew."
Wei moved between Shuang's legs. She looked up, eyes wide, trusting. He rubbed his cockhead along her slick folds—up, down, coating himself in Liling's saliva and the girl's own juices. Shuang bit her lip.
"Slow," she whispered.
He entered her an inch. She was impossibly tight, walls fluttering in panic and need. Wei paused, kissing her—soft, then deeper, tongue mimicking what his cock would do. When she relaxed, he pushed deeper—halfway, then more, until he bottomed out with a shared groan. Blood tinged the water faintly; Shuang's virginity given to the main line.
Yawen and Liling watched, hands between their own thighs. Wei began to move—gentle, rolling thrusts that stretched Shuang open. Her small breasts jiggled; Liling leaned in to suck one nipple, Yawen the other. The girl's climax hit sudden and hard—back arching, pussy clamping down like a vice.
Wei held still, letting her ride it out. When she sagged, panting, he withdrew slowly. His cock glistened with her juices and a faint pink streak.
Yawen was next. She bent over the pool's edge, ass raised, heavy breasts swaying. "From behind," she begged. "Deep as you can."
Wei gripped her hips and slid home in one thrust. Yawen moaned, pushing back to meet him. The water slapped with each impact; her ass rippled. Liling moved beneath them, tongue flicking Yawen's clit from below. Shuang, still trembling, kissed Yawen's mouth, swallowing her cries.
Wei's pace quickened. Yawen's walls fluttered; she came with a guttural sound, inner muscles milking him. He buried deep and spilled—thick jets flooding her womb, overflowing to drip into the glowing spring. The water flared brighter, drinking the excess.
Last, Liling. She lay back on a floating lotus platform, legs spread wide. Her pussy was mature—swollen, experienced, entrance gaping slightly from arousal. "No gentleness," she said. "Fuck me like the widow I am."
Wei entered her hard. She laughed, delighted, legs locking around his waist. They moved like warriors—deep, punishing strokes that sent water splashing. Shuang and Yawen curled around them, hands roaming, mouths on breasts, fingers teasing clits.
Liling came twice—once from Wei's cock, once when Yawen sucked her clit while he thrust. On her third climax, she clamped down so hard Wei saw stars. He flooded her with the last of his seed, the spring glowing almost white.
They floated together after, limbs tangled, steam curling around sated bodies. Shuang's fingers traced the scar on Liling's hip. "Will I bear a daughter?" she asked softly.
Liling smiled. "The spring remembers. One of you will."
As Wei dressed, a soft chime sounded—dawn bell. In the eastern wing, Hua waited, belly rounding, craving her husband's touch. In the northern pavilion, Lan practiced forms with a sword now too light for her growing strength. And in the central garden, Li Mei stood beneath frost-laced plum blossoms, hand on the faint curve of her womb, humming an old lullaby.
The river of seed flowed wider.
The Crimson Lotus bloomed eternal.
The first snow fell on the night of the Winter Solstice, blanketing the Crimson Lotus peaks in silence so pure it rang in the ears.
In the inner compound, braziers burned dragon-spice wood; every breath carried cinnamon and smoke. The clan prepared for the Frost-Bloom Festival —a once-a-decade rite where unmated youths over sixteen offered themselves to the main line beneath the open sky, letting snowflakes kiss bare skin while seed took root in winter's embrace.
Wei stood at the edge of the Snow Lotus Arena a natural amphitheater carved into the mountainside. Torches ringed the circle of packed snow, their flames blue-white with qi. The arena floor was strewn with crushed lotus petals frozen into crimson glass—each step would crunch like breaking hearts.
Tonight he would claim seven women—record for a man not yet twenty.
The Codex demanded it: *"In deepest winter, let the main line scatter seed like plum blossoms in snow. The clan drinks cold fire and grows."*
They waited in a crescent, robes of white fox-fur open to the waist, nipples pebbled from frost and anticipation:
1. Cousin Rui, seventeen, sword prodigy, lean muscle under small breasts.
2. Cousin Jiao, twenty-one, married, belly flat but husband barren—here to borrow seed.
3. Cousin Fen, nineteen, twin to Jiao, softer, rounder, untouched.
4. Aunt Cai, forty-two, elder healer, silver streaks in her braid, body still lush.
5. Cousin Xin sixteen today, smallest of the group, eyes huge with nerves.
6. Cousin Mei-Ling , eighteen, dancer's grace, legs that went on forever.
7. Cousin Ying, twenty-three, archer, arms corded, scar across one thigh.
Wei stepped onto the petal-glass. Snow hissed against his bare feet. He wore only loose black trousers; the cold did nothing to wilt his cock—it stood proud, flushed dark against his abs, a bead of precum already freezing into a pearl at the tip.
Rui spoke for them, voice steady despite chattering teeth. "We offer our bodies to the main line. Let the snow bear witness."
They shed their furs. Seven naked forms glowed in torchlight—skin steaming, breath pluming white. Wei moved to the center, where a low altar of black ice waited, carved with shallow basins to catch seed and melted snow.
He began with Xin—the youngest, trembling like a snowflake on a branch.
He lifted her easily, setting her on the altar's edge. Her legs parted; frost kissed her inner thighs, raising gooseflesh. Between them, her pussy was bare, lips sealed tight with cold. Wei warmed them with his breath, then his tongue—slow licks that melted snowflakes on her clit. Xin whimpered, small hands clutching his hair.
When she was slick and open, he stood. His cockhead nudged her entrance—barely a finger's width. He pushed in an inch; she gasped, walls fluttering. Snow fell thicker, landing on her small breasts, melting into rivulets that ran pink over her nipples.
"Hold me," he murmured.
She wrapped arms and legs around him. He thrust deeper—slow, relentless—until he bottomed out in her virgin heat. The altar's basin caught the first drop of blood-tinged fluid. Qi flared silver-crimson, threading up into the storm.
The others watched, hands between their own thighs, snowflakes hissing on hot skin.
Wei moved in Xin—gentle rolls of his hips, letting her adjust. When her cries turned to pleas, he quickened. Her climax hit like a gust—tiny body shaking, pussy clamping so hard he saw stars. He pulled free just in time, painting her belly and the altar in thick ropes that steamed in the cold. The basin glowed.
One by one, he claimed them:
- Fen bent over the altar, twin to Jiao, taking him from behind while Jiao kissed her mouth. He filled her until seed dripped down her thighs, freezing into pearls on the snow.
- Jiao rode him on the petal-glass, hips rolling like a storm tide, begging for the son her husband couldn't give. He gave it—deep, pulsing spurts that overflowed to hiss on the frozen petals.
- Mei-Ling wrapped dancer's legs around his waist, back arched against a torch pole, snowflakes melting on her clit as he thrust upward. Her orgasm milked him dry.
-Ying took him on her knees, archer's strength letting her grind back hard, scar tissue rough against his palms. He finished across her back—white on white, steam rising.
-Cai lay on the altar last, healer's hands guiding him into her experienced depths. She came thrice—once from his cock, once when Rui sucked her breasts, once when snow filled her open mouth as he flooded her womb.
- Rui saved for the crescendo. She fought him like a spar—legs locking, hips slamming, sword-calloused hands pinning his wrists until he flipped her, drove deep, and spilled with a roar that echoed off the peaks. The arena's torches flared blue.
Seven bodies lay spent on the petal-glass, snowflakes settling on cum-slick skin like blessings. The altar's basins overflowed; qi channels beneath the arena glowed white-hot, feeding the mountain itself.
Wei stood at the center, chest heaving, cock finally softening. Frost rimed his lashes. From the high balcony, his sealed wives watched—Hua's hand on her swollen belly, Lan's fingers laced with Xue's, Mei's eyes shining with pride and something darker.
A final figure stepped from the shadows—Great-Aunt Lian, eighty summers but cultivation kept her upright, hair snow-white. She carried a pendant on a chain of black ice: crimson lotus, mother-of-pearl center—the Maternal Seal
She pressed it into Wei's hand. "Your daughter quickens in Li Mei's womb. When the plum blossoms fall, the Codex will bind you fully. Until then…" Her gaze swept the seven exhausted women. "The river flows."
Snow fell harder, covering seed and sweat and blood in a clean white veil.
Somewhere deep in the mountain, the Crimson Lotus stirred—roots drinking winter fire, preparing for spring's crimson bloom.