"This will bring out your true soul appearance temporarily," Tianlong interrupted, stepping closer until she could feel the heat radiating from his body. "Your complete divine form, not this half-awakened state."

She looked down at herself, noting that while she appeared divine, something still felt... muted.

Incomplete. As if she was only showing a shadow of what she truly was but still she looked like how she was before falling here.

So why does he want her to look good temporarily?

"But why would you want me to—"

Tianlong leaned in close, so close that his breath tickled her ear as he whispered, "To make children together, obviously."

Badump

Her heart seemed to skip several beats at once, the words hitting her like a physical blow. Her silver eyes widened in shock, her lips parting as she stared at him in complete disbelief.

But before she could respond, the sound of rapid footsteps echoed through the chamber as three figures burst through the doorway.

"Did I just—what did you say?" Feng's voice cut through the air, her pale blue eyes wide as she took in the scene before her.

Yue stood beside her, bronze skin flushed and bow still gripped in her hand, while Mei peered around them both with curious dark eyes.

All three women glanced toward Ying Jia, taking in her ethereal silver hair and divine features, before quickly averting their gazes.

Despite her otherworldly beauty, there was something in their expressions—a flicker of jealousy mixed with resignation.

"It's strange," Yue muttered, crossing her arms over her chest. "She really does look better now."

Tianlong looked toward his wives with an amused smile. "Come on, I'm giving you a wedding to prepare. Isn't that what you wanted?"

"You pervert!" Feng snapped, but there was no real anger in her voice. "Do whatever you want. I'm going to prepare for the wedding."

"Another bride to welcome," Yue sighed, shaking her head. "I'll handle the arrangements."

Mei, however, stepped forward with innocent eyes fixed on Tianlong. "Husband, I—"

"Feng," Tianlong interrupted with a grin, "she's trying to monopolize me. Take her with you."

Before Mei could protest, Feng's hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. "How horny are you?" she muttered, dragging the smaller woman toward the door.

"Wait! I just wanted to—" Mei's voice cut off as Feng pulled her from the chamber.

Within moments, all three wives had left, and Ying Jia could hear the soft sounds of walls shifting and reforming as new rooms materialized at their will. The Pleasure Palace responded to their thoughts, creating spaces and summoning elegant wedding attire from thin air—silks, pearls, and precious metals materializing to fulfill their desires.

The palace was a manifestation of pure will, reconstructed based on brain waves, capable of providing anything its inhabitants could imagine.

Tianlong turned his attention to the pink-haired spirit who had been standing silently in the corner. "Liora, you want to leave?"

The ethereal girl nodded once before dissolving into motes of pink light, leaving them completely alone.

Silence settled over the chamber as Ying Jia clutched the pill in her trembling fingers, her silver eyes wide with confusion and something that might have been fear.

"What are you saying?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Tianlong stepped closer, his crimson eyes holding hers with an intensity that made her breath catch. When he spoke, his voice carried a vulnerable note she hadn't expected.

"Do I not even deserve to love you?"

Her eyes dropped to the floor, silver lashes casting shadows on her cheeks. The simple question cut through all her divine pride and cosmic suffering, reaching something deep inside her that had been dormant for millennia.

She raised the pill to her lips, her hands shaking slightly. "Do whatever you want," she said quietly, "but don't regret it if I don't look good."

The moment the Soul Appearance Amplifier Pill touched her tongue, it dissolved like morning mist.

The transformation was immediate and breathtaking.

Her already ethereal features sharpened into perfection that transcended mortal understanding. Her silver hair gained an luminescent quality, each strand catching light that didn't exist, flowing like liquid starlight down her back to pool around her feet in shimmering waves.

Her skin took on a subtle glow, pale as moonbeams but radiant with inner light. Every curve of her face became flawlessly sculpted—high cheekbones that could cut glass, lips the color of rose petals, a straight nose that spoke of aristocratic breeding spanning eons.

But it was her eyes that truly changed. The silver deepened into pools of liquid starlight, ancient and fathomless, holding the wisdom and pain of ten thousand years while maintaining an innocence that spoke of divinity untouched by mortal corruption.

Her body transformed as well. Her slight frame filled out into perfect proportions—full breasts that strained against her simple robes, a narrow waist that flared into hips designed for childbearing, legs that seemed to go on forever beneath fabric that suddenly seemed inadequate to contain such beauty.

She sat there, divine perfection made manifest, a goddess who had stepped down from the celestial realm to grace the mortal world with her presence.

Tianlong felt his breath catch in his throat as he took in her transformed appearance.

This wasn't just beauty—it was divinity itself wearing flesh, power and grace combined into a form that made his very soul ache with want.

"Now I understand," he murmured, his voice rough with desire and something deeper, "why Heaven itself wanted to chain you."

Tianlong's crimson eyes lingered on her transformed form, drinking in every divine curve like a man starved.

'How can someone be so gorgeaus?' He rose slowly from the edge of the bed, his movements deliberate, muscles coiling under golden skin.

With a casual shrug, he let his upper robe slide off his broad shoulders, the heavy silk pooling at his feet.

His abs rippled into view—six hard ridges carved from endless battles and cultivation, each one etched with faint scars that spoke of real pain, sweat-slicked and taut, rising and falling with his steady breath.

The V-line dipped low, drawing the eye to where his lower robe hung precariously, tented by the thick bulge straining against it.

Ying Jia blinked, her starlit silver eyes widening as he climbed onto the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight.

The air between them thickened, charged with heat and something primal.

"What are you—" she started, her voice a breathy whisper, but the words caught in her throat as he clasped her face in his large hands, thumbs pressing into the plush softness of her cheeks.

Her skin yielded like warm clouds under summer rain—plump and resilient, the kind of yielding flesh that dimples under pressure but springs back full and inviting, blood rushing beneath to flush it rosy, every pore alive with ethereal glow that made her feel impossibly real, impossibly alive.

His thumb traced her lower lip, parting it gently, feeling the wet, velvety inside give way like ripe fruit splitting open—soft, slick, trembling with her quickening breath.

"I said, can I?" he murmured, voice low and gravelly, as his other hand tugged at the string of his lower robe.

The fabric parted with a whisper, and his cock sprang free—nine inches of thick, veined heat, heavy and rigid, the bulbous head slapping against her cheek with a meaty sound.

'!'

"Whaa—"

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