Flesh dust

This story tells of an orphan born with a natural talent for cultivation, taken in by the prestigious Wangtian Temple from a young age. His cultivation progresses rapidly, and at a young age, he possesses remarkable Taoist skills. At the age of 19, in the early years of the Republic of China, a time of frequent war, the protagonist, tasked by his sect, descends the mountain to eliminate demons and protect the righteous path. However, his willful obsession leads to one farcical situation after another.
Chapter One: Descending the Mountain.
The sun rises, coinciding with morning prayers. Incense
smoke curls in the main hall, the sound of wooden fish drums echoes, and rows of Taoist priests sit upright, rapidly chanting Taoist scriptures.
Beside the patriarch sits a handsome middle-aged Taoist priest, dressed in a Bagua robe, with long hair and a beautiful beard—the abbot of the temple,
Xuan Kong. He glances at his many disciples, impressed by their diligence. The temple, Wangtian Temple, has a thousand-year history and is quite large. Although it is now a chaotic era, it still has over a thousand Taoists, including 800 male and 200 female Taoists, and five generations of cultivators, including Xuan, Xuan, Fa, Shi, and Qing.
Behind the Taoist temple, on the mountainside, lay two courtyards, the practice grounds for female Taoists.
At this moment, morning prayers were being held in the main hall, with the morning drum and evening bell tolling, a scene of serene Taoist practice. However, from a side room in the disciples' quarters, rather lewd sounds emanated. A female Taoist lay prone on a large kang (heated brick bed), her features obscured, only her two large, plump buttocks prominently displayed. A wide Taoist robe was pulled back, covering her body, revealing her pubic hair, soaked and glistening, and a thick, erect penis repeatedly thrusting in and out of her pink vulva. The lewd sounds were the squelching and slurring of the penis entering and exiting her vulva.
Only low, suppressed, and grating breaths escaped from the two engaged in their pleasure.
After all, they were within the temple grounds, where many of their masters and brothers possessed high levels of Taoist cultivation, and some even had enhanced hearing; a moment's carelessness could easily lead to discovery.
Marriage is not forbidden within the Taoist community, and fellow disciples can become Taoist partners. However, the two in the room, the female Taoist is a senior disciple of the "Shi" generation, while the male Taoist is a junior disciple of the "Qing" generation. These two
are essentially committing incest. However, they seem unconcerned. The male Taoist gently pats the female Taoist's round, upturned buttocks, and the female Taoist, understanding the situation, turns around, spreading her legs wide, her vulva wide open, glistening with dew. The male Taoist leans in, covering the female Taoist with his body, kissing her red lips and sucking. His manhood, needing no guidance, automatically plunges into her vulva, churning incessantly.
The room is filled with blush-inducing, heart-pounding sounds of their sensual lovemaking.
Half an hour later, the two finally separated, satisfied. Qian Dao, without even cleaning himself, sweetly kissed Kun Dao's rosy cheek before carefully leaving. Kun Dao, meanwhile, placed some toilet paper under his buttocks, used his internal energy to force his milky-white penis out of her flower path, wiped his entrance, and then carefully tidied himself up before sitting upright on the futon and chanting Taoist scriptures.
He seemed to have a feeling of "the penis has passed through my body, the Three Pure Ones are in my heart."
After leaving, Qian Dao used his lightness technique to sneak back to his dormitory, closed the door, and lay down on the kang (heated brick bed) to pretend to sleep. It was unclear what pleasurable things he was thinking about, but a slight smirk played on his lips, quite pleased with himself.
Not long after, as the sun rose higher, the morning lessons in the main hall ended, and the disciples returned to their dormitories one after another. Three half-grown boys returned to Qian Dao's room, where he had been pretending to sleep.
All three were tall and handsome, with bright, intelligent eyes; they were clearly promising candidates for cultivation. They glanced at the lazy Taoist lying sprawled on the kang (heated brick bed), a hint of envy on their faces. One of them, the more honest-looking
one, patted the slacking Taoist on the shoulder and said, "Greetings, Senior Brother Qinghuan. The abbot has decreed that you go to the Hall of Transmission immediately." The Taoist lying on the kang, called Qinghuan, sprang to the ground with a quick movement, looked at the three, nodded slightly, and said, "Understood."
He went to the mirror, tidied his appearance, and went out to the Hall of Transmission. The three left behind pursed their lips, went to tidy the bedding on the kang, and went out to do their chores of gathering firewood and fetching water.
When they arrived at the Hall of Transmission, it was quite lively; many Taoist disciples and even a Buddhist monk had arrived.
Qinghuan entered the main hall and, under the watchful eyes of everyone, walked a short distance to the abbot. He respectfully bowed and said, "Amitabha Buddha, abbot, your disciple Qinghuan has arrived."
The abbot of Wangtian Temple looked at Qinghuan for a moment, and seeing his dignified appearance and solemn expression, he was very satisfied. He said, "Stand behind me and await further instructions."
Qinghuan replied, "Yes."
Qiandao stood behind the abbot and looked up, scanning the people in the hall. The people in the hall were also sizing him up. When they saw Qinghuan's handsome face, strong physique, long breath, and youthful appearance, they all exclaimed in surprise. Especially the few dressed as martial monks, their eyes filled with resentment. In Taoist cultivation, aptitude is paramount. This Qiandao was clearly born with a profound physique, and his appearance was so handsome; he was truly a gem. He was far superior to these rough-looking martial monks. Even some female Taoist cultivators blushed and whispered among themselves.
After a moment, a monk sitting to the right of the abbot of Wangtian Temple chanted a Buddhist prayer and addressed the abbot: "Fellow Daoist Xuan Kong, is this the outstanding disciple of Wangtian Temple you spoke of?"
Xuan Kong nodded in response.
The monk in the kasaya, seeing this, was somewhat displeased. Xuan Kong, confident in the prosperity of Wangtian Temple, often disregarded Buddhism. He looked at Qing Huan and asked: "Fellow Daoist, how old are you?"
Qing Huan remained silent. Everyone in the hall stared at him, creating an awkward silence. After some time, Xuan Kong finally spoke: "Tell me the truth."
Qing Huan nodded and said: "This humble Daoist is 19 years old."
The monk then asked: "How long have you been practicing?"
Qing Huan replied: "This humble Daoist entered the sect at the age of three, receiving earnest instruction from my elders. Now, after 16 years of seeking the Dao, I have achieved some minor success." Xuan Kong
smiled, quite pleased with himself. The monk then asked: "What cultivation method do you practice? Have you reached the Foundation Establishment stage?"
Qing Huan replied: "I have already reached the Foundation Establishment stage for two years."
A series of gasps and buzzing sounds erupted from the hall, all from shock. A mere 19 years old and already at the Foundation Establishment stage?
The monk's face grew increasingly grim: "Have you mastered the art of fasting?"
Qinghuan replied, "After fasting, I've already opened my senses."
The monk's face paled. The crowd, as if witnessing something extraordinary, erupted in clamor. Xuan Kong flicked his whisk, silencing the noise. The monk, regaining his composure, asked incredulously, "How many senses?" Qinghuan, her
expression unchanged, replied, "All five senses—eyes, ears, mouth, and nose—have opened.
" Upon hearing this, the hall erupted in shouts and gasps, even Xuan Kong couldn't silence these sparrows.
At 19, five senses already opened—if left unchecked, wouldn't he be ascending to immortality before reaching forty?
The monk, however, smiled broadly, bowing to Xuan Kong and saying, "Abbot Xuan Kong, thank you."
Xuan Kong smiled without replying.
Later that evening, Qinghuan shouldered her bundle and followed the group down the mountain. They learned along the way that in this chaotic world, humanity had collapsed, society was in turmoil, and demons were taking advantage of the chaos to run rampant. This group was composed of people from various Taoist and Buddhist sects, forming the Heavenly Path, who were going down the mountain to slay demons. Each sect had three or four members participating, except for the Wangtian Temple, where only Qinghuan participated.
Yet, he was the strongest among them.
The group walked on the rugged mountain path. Apart from the leading mage, most of them were young cultivators of 18 or 19 years old, and most of them were going down the mountain for the first time. The atmosphere was quite lively, except for the group of martial monks who were serious and seemed somewhat out of place. Several female Taoists surrounded Qinghuan, chattering like mountain larks. Qinghuan was all smiles, and in just half a day, she became friends with these female Taoists. Two or three of them were even bolder, hanging their bodies on Qinghuan. Their soft, supple bodies made Qinghuan feel numb all over, and even her manhood seemed to be slightly aroused.
The group walked until dark, arriving at a small town at the foot of Wangtianguan Mountain. Instead of stopping for a meal or lodging, they hired a horse-drawn carriage and headed to the provincial capital that very night.
The carriage traveled along the pipeline for half the night. Exhausted, the driver begged the leading monk for a rest. The monk agreed, and the driver stopped the carriage at a ten-mile pavilion. He circled half the carriage, removed the bridles, and lay down on the horses' bellies for a nap. The men got out and went into a nearby earth god temple to light a fire and bake flatbread
. The women spread bedding on the carriage and pretended to rest. As everyone meditated and rested, night deepened. A young male Taoist emerged from the earth god temple—it was Qinghuan. He glanced outside, used his movement technique, and with a few leaps, disappeared into the distance.
He didn't return until dawn. When the others noticed, there was no trace of him. When the leading monk returned empty-handed, everyone was speechless. Several women felt a void in their hearts; they had just chatted happily with their senior brother Qinghuan yesterday—why had he left without saying goodbye? By afternoon, seeing that Qinghuan had not yet returned, the group found a martial monk to report back to Wangtian Temple and set off for the provincial capital.
As for Qinghuan, where was he now?

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