Andrew and Lucy took turns demonstrating how to draw the ambient Qi. Lucy moved with a practiced grace, her blue eyes closing in concentration as a faint shimmer enveloped her form. Andrew, in contrast, focused inward, his movements subtle as he guided invisible currents. Amanda watched, trying to mimic their serene expressions, their precise hand gestures.
"It's like breathing," Lucy explained, her voice soft and even. "But instead of air, you're drawing in the vitality around you. Feel it, Amanda. It's everywhere."
Andrew chimed in, "Imagine your skin is a sponge. You're soaking up a very fine, invisible mist." He held out his hand, palm up. The air above it seemed to ripple. "Then, you push it into your skin, strengthen it from the inside out."
Amanda closed her eyes. She reached out, not with her hands, but with her awareness, trying to perceive the elusive energy. The room's potent Qi made the task less daunting. She felt a faint tingling, like static electricity on her skin. She focused, guiding that sensation, willing it inward. It was slow, laborious work, like trying to pick up grains of sand with sticky fingers. But gradually, a warmth spread through her forearms.
Lucy watched Amanda, a small smile playing on her lips. She began to cycle her own Qi, a steady, internal rhythm. As a Foundation Establishment cultivator, her needs were different. She wasn't actively forging her body in the same way, but maintaining her perfected form required constant circulation, gathering the free-flowing Qi to replenish her spiritual reserves. The intense concentration on Amanda's subtle progress allowed Lucy's own practice to unfold almost unconsciously.
Andrew, meanwhile, plunged into his organ forging. He sat cross-legged, eyes closed, a deep furrow in his brow. A faint, earthy scent emanated from him, the musk of raw vitality being refined and compacted. He channeled the room's rich Qi, pushing it deeper, past the strengthened bones, into the soft, yielding tissues of his internal organs. It was a painstaking, delicate process, demanding absolute focus. Each breath was a conscious effort, each pulse of energy carefully directed. He felt the subtle hum of his liver, the rhythmic thump of his heart, and worked to reinforce their structure, to imbue them with greater resilience, greater power. Time seemed to warp in the intense concentration.
Hours passed. Amanda's skin tingled, a constant, low thrum. She wasn't sure how much progress she made, but the sensation of Qi flowing within her was no longer alien. She felt tired, but exhilarated. She opened her eyes, seeing the soft, unchanging light of the training room. Lucy was still meditating, a picture of serene focus. Andrew, however, shifted. A subtle tremor ran through his body, and a thin sheen of sweat appeared on his brow.
He took a deep, shuddering breath, then another. He opened his eyes, a glint of triumph mixed with exhaustion. He had pushed himself, hard. He stood, stretching his limbs, his muscles popping. Night had fallen outside the academy.
"I'm heading home," he announced, the words raspy. "I'll call the carriage."
Lucy finally opened her eyes. She blinked, her blue gaze clear and refreshed. "Already?" she asked, a teasing tone in her voice. "Don't tell me the little man can't handle a full day of cultivation."
Andrew grinned, a flash of white in the dim light. "I could stay all night, but unlike some people, I have a bed waiting for me. And parents who worry." He gestured vaguely towards the door. "You should head home too, Lucy. Wouldn't want to keep your family waiting."
Lucy snorted. "Protective now, are we? Last I checked, I'm the Foundation Establishment cultivator. I should be protecting you."
Andrew laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that seemed too mature for his years. "Shameless, is what you are. After all the crazy stuff you did with me, you call me shameless?"
A bright blush blossomed across Lucy's cheeks, a stark contrast to her pale skin. Her eyes narrowed, glaring at Andrew, but the corner of her mouth twitched. She knew exactly what he was alluding to. He threw his head back, a genuine, unrestrained laugh echoing through the room.
Amanda watched the exchange with a bewildered gaze. She had no idea what they talked about. She only knew he was laughing at Lucy, and Lucy was blushing. It was a strange, intimate moment between them.
"Well, Amanda," Andrew said, recomposing himself, though a smile still played on his lips. "You know the ropes now. Get some rest. You can use this room tomorrow morning too if you like. I've already reserved it until lunchtime." He winked.
With that, he turned and walked towards the heavy door. It hissed open as he approached, and he stepped out, leaving Lucy and Amanda in the quiet, Qi-filled room.
Lucy shook her head, a soft smile on her lips. She stretched, her movements fluid and graceful. "He's a menace," she murmured, more to herself than to Amanda. "But a powerful one." She looked at Amanda, her expression softening. "Right, let's get you settled for the night. And tomorrow, we try again."
Andrew stepped through the front door. The scent of cooking wafted from the kitchen, a comforting, familiar smell. Eva looked up from where she stirred a pot on the stove, a warm smile gracing her lips.
"Andrew, you're back!" Amara, perched at the kitchen table, swung her legs. "How was the academy?" Her bright eyes sparkled with curiosity.
Andrew recounted his day, describing the lessons, the vast library, the other children. He spoke of Amanda, her eager spirit, her quick grasp of Qi. Eva listened, humming occasionally, while Amara interrupted with excited questions about the grandeur of the academy halls.
Dinner followed, a hearty stew that filled the small apartment with warmth. Laughter and easy conversation punctuated the meal. Afterwards, tired but content, Andrew retreated to his room. Sleep claimed him quickly.
The next days fell into a rhythm. School filled the mornings, rigorous lessons on cultivation theory and the history of Vavilon. Afternoons belonged to the special training room. Andrew continued his organ forging, Amanda diligently practiced drawing ambient Qi, and Lucy maintained her Foundation Establishment state training. Amanda didn't fully grasp the constant influx of raw Qi invigorating her body. She simply knew she felt stronger, more alert, and less tired than her classmates. Andrew recognized the girls orbiting him at the academy, sensing their unconscious desire to connect with someone showing such prodigious talent. He used Amanda, her innocent presence, as a natural barrier to their advances.
Friday and Saturday offered a reprieve from formal classes. These free days at the academy allowed students to pursue personal cultivation goals, undertake missions, or simply relax. Yet, for Andrew, Lucy, and Amanda, the routine remained unchanged. They met in their private training room.
One Friday afternoon, Lucy fidgeted, her blue eyes restless as she paced the perimeter of the room. A flush colored her cheeks, the warmth emanating from her almost visible. She ran a hand through her blonde hair, biting her lip. Andrew watched her, a sigh escaping his lips. Amanda, engrossed in a particularly intriguing Qi circulation pattern, remained oblivious to the tension that crackled in the air.
Andrew knew Lucy's agitation. The confined space, the focused energy, the intimacy of their shared training, all stoked a familiar fire in her. She needed a release, an outlet for her surging emotions. Their previous encounters at home had become problematic. A hulking youth slipping into a small apartment shared by three women, one a mother, would raise too many eyebrows at this point. The academy offered privacy, but only within dedicated training facilities. The room they used, while secluded, still held the sterile air of a public space.
He regarded Amanda. The girl was remarkable, her potential boundless. She never complained, always pushed herself, and showed a genuine thirst for knowledge. Andrew felt a strange protectiveness towards her. He saw her bright future, still unburdened by the complexities of adulthood.
He cleared his throat. "Amanda," he began, his voice low, pulling her attention from her Qi flow.
She looked up, her long black hair falling over one shoulder. "Yes, Andrew?"
"Can you keep a secret?"
Her eyes widened, brimming with sudden excitement. She nodded, her head bobbing enthusiastically.
Andrew leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "Do you want to become one of my women?"
Amanda's brow furrowed. She didn't fully grasp the implications of his words, the depth of commitment or the meaning behind such a proposition. But instinct told her this was good, important even. It aligned with the feeling of security and growth she experienced around him. It felt like an invitation to something greater.
She nodded again, a quicker, more decisive motion this time. "Yes!"
Andrew chuckled, a soft sound that filled the quiet room. He nodded back, a satisfied gleam in his eyes.
Andrew's gaze sharpened, his voice dropping to a serious tone. "Lucy needs to… release some pressure. This room, it's the best place for it right now." He paused, searching for the right words. "It's too early for you, or me, to do… certain things. But Lucy, her age, her hormones, they're a powerful force. She can't just bottle it up."
Amanda listened intently, her brow furrowed in concentration. She understood the words, but the underlying meaning remained hazy. Release pressure? Hormones? The concepts were a jumble in her young mind.
"So," Andrew continued, his eyes earnest, "would it be okay if I helped Lucy… unwind here? You can come back in a couple of hours if you feel uncomfortable. Or you can stay, keep doing your own thing, and ignore us." His voice lowered further. "Just don't tell anyone about this, okay? No one."
Amanda nodded, her confusion battling with a deep sense of trust. Andrew had always been kind, patient, and wise. If he said this was important, it must be. "Okay," she whispered.
Andrew turned to Lucy, who still stood, a vibrant, restless energy radiating from her. Her blue eyes, usually so sharp, held a desperate plea.
"Is this really okay?" Lucy's voice was a barely audible tremor. Her gaze flickered to Amanda, a flash of apprehension in her eyes.
Andrew met her gaze, a reassuring calm radiating from him. "It's fine. Amanda understands."
A breath hitched in Lucy's throat. Her hands flew to the hem of her academy uniform, and in one swift movement, she pulled the fabric over her head. Her blouse followed, then her trousers, each piece falling to the floor in a discarded heap. Amanda watched, her mouth slightly ajar, as Lucy stood before them, gloriously, unashamedly naked.
Her movements became fluid, almost primal. She dropped to her hands and knees, her hips arching, her back curving. Her body was a sculpture of muscle and soft curves, honed by cultivation, now trembling with anticipation. Andrew moved, his motions smooth and purposeful. He lowered himself to the floor behind her, his head dipping.
Amanda's eyes widened, a silent gasp escaping her lips. Andrew's tongue traced a path, a liquid, flickering motion. A soft moan escaped Lucy's lips, a low, guttural sound that seemed to vibrate through the very air. Lucy's hips began to move, an involuntary rock and sway, each movement growing in intensity. Andrew's hand, meanwhile, reached down, his fingers finding purchase. His thumb worked rhythmically, a relentless pressure.
Lucy's moans grew louder, more frantic. Her body tensed, the muscles in her back cording, her hands clenching into fists on the smooth floor. Her head tilted back, exposing the delicate curve of her throat. Her eyes were closed, her face contorted in a mask of pure sensation. A wild, desperate cry ripped from her throat as her body arched violently, a convulsion that seemed to lift her from the floor. Her legs trembled, locking, then unlocking. A series of gasps followed, each one drawing in a ragged breath, each one ending in a shuddering sigh as her body slowly, exquisitely, relaxed onto Andrew.
Amanda, eyes wide and unblinking, sat dumbfounded. The world had shifted on its axis. The quiet, focused training room, the disciplined movements of cultivation, had dissolved into this raw, visceral display of pure, unadulterated sensation. She had seen bodies before, naked children playing in the bathing houses, but this was different. This was powerful. This was… breathtaking.