Chapter Eight

That night, Lord Wen lays on his bed while being attended to by a female friend. He doesn’t put any effort into their act, remaining on the receiving end for the entire night.

“What’s wrong, Lord Wen?” The female friend asks, looking at where her body is connected to Lord Wen.

“It’s my youngest son,” Lord Wen says, looking at the ceiling.

“Well, what’s wrong with him?” The female friend asks and lets herself fall on Lord Wen’s chest. While her breasts are pressed into Lord Wen’s chest, she stares at his eyes, noticing them in deep thought.

“He doesn’t show any ability to cultivate, not even the Boiling Cauldron of Nine Transformations ritual,” Lord Wen says and sighs. “I’ve done everything I could until this moment to prepare him, but he’s still behind even his cousins.”

“If that didn’t awake his cultivation, what will?” The female friend asks and rolls to the side. “The Boiling Cauldron of Nine Transformations ritual has been in place for over ten thousand years. It’s the only proven way to awaken dormant cultivation in a young cultivator.”

“And that’s what makes this so difficult,” Lord Wen says. “If little Feng cannot cultivate, he will have no place among my household.”

“How about the upcoming Demonic Beasts Parade? If an ‘accident’ happens during the parade, your son’s cultivation might be forced to awaken. It’s the same principle as the Boiling Cauldron of Nine Transformations ritual, but more dangerous,” The female friend suggests.

“That’s genius,” Lord Wen says, placing his body on top of his female friend’s. “Allow me to reward you.”