Chapter 3: Preparations

Words : 1211 Updated : Sep 11th, 2025

Morning. Hei Long sat, a wisp of steam rising from a delicate porcelain cup cradled in his hands. The aroma of the rare, exotic tea filled the air. His breakfast, a lavish spread, lay mostly untouched on the table before him— The maids fluttering around him like hummingbirds, attending to his every need with graceful efficiency. "Ah, this tea is nice," Hei Long murmured, satisfied. He took another sip, the liquid warmth spreading through him, a comforting balm to his senses. Setting the cup down, he let out a contented sigh, his eyes flitting closed as he savored the moment. Suddenly... A voice shattered his tranquility. "Son, have you seen your mother? I haven't laid eyes on her since yesterday." The speaker was a tall, imposing figure, his black robe billowing slightly as he entered the room. His glasses perched precariously on his nose, and his sharp features were etched with an expression of mild concern. The maids bowed their heads respectfully as the middle-aged man passed. [Name: Hei Zhòu] [Cultivation: Upper Stage, False God] Hei Long's eyes snapped open, and he regarded his father with a mix of amusement and irritation. Uncrossing his legs, he leaned back in his chair, a picture of nonchalance. "No idea, Father. I haven't seen her." A lie rolled off his tongue. Hei Long knew exactly where his mother was—in his own bedroom, still passed out from their marathon session the night before. Only when he saw the faintest hint of death in his mother's eyes, a mere whisper of exhaustion, did he finally relent, pulling back and leaving her to her well-deserved rest. "..." Hei Zhòu's eyebrows furrowed slightly, but he nodded, accepting his son's words without question. "Very well. If you see her, tell her I've been looking for her. Ah, I almost forgot to say: Don't forget about your wedding today." With that, Hei Zhòu left the room. "Forget an event? Me?" Hei Long chuckled softly, swirling the remnants of tea in his cup before setting it down with a gentle clink. Rising from his seat, the maids surrounding him sprang into motion, gracefully falling into step behind him as he strode forward. As he had a small walk... Hei Long stepped out into the bustling preparations for his wedding ceremony. The estate grounds were alive with activity—slaves moved in hurried lines, carrying silks, arranging tables, and setting up ornate decorations that shimmered in the sunlight. Massive red lanterns were hung from towering poles, fluttering gently in the breeze. "Not bad," Hei Long muttered, offering a half nod of approval as he walked past the flurry of slaves. His eyes caught the glint of gold-threaded banners, each inscribed with the insignia of the Hei Family—a coiling black dragon entwined around a crimson sun. Everything was coming together, just as it should. Hey Long stroll led him to the front of the estate, where he found the Elder of the Hei Family overseeing the final touches. The old man stood tall, his long beard silver, fingers stroking it. [Name: Hei Hui] [Cultivation: Middle Stage, False God] "Elder Hui," Hei Long called out, waving a hand, before tucking both hands behind his back. The Elder's eyes brightened upon seeing him, his wrinkled face splitting into a wide smile. "Young Master! It is good to see you before your wedding," Hei Hui said, bowing slightly out of respect before straightening up. "To what do I owe the honor of your presence?" Hei Long's gaze sharpened. "I wanted to make sure security is... tight for tonight. I don't want any unwelcome guests slipping in," he replied. He knew the protagonist would be coming; in the novel, it had been far too easy for that slave to waltz in and disrupt everything. Hei Long intended to change the script a little. "..." Hei Hui's eyes glimmered with surprise. "Hmm... I can't imagine anyone would be foolish enough to trespass on the Hei Family's grounds during such an event," he replied. "But seeing as you brought it up, I'll ensure security is doubled—no, tripled. No one uninvited will so much as step through the gates." "Good," Hei Long said with a satisfied nod. "I don't want us being lazy about this." He turned on his heel, the maids instinctively parting to allow him passage as he strode back. . . . Li Mei stretched languidly, her body still humming with the previous night's passion. She could feel the remnants of her son's seed within her, a warm, intimate reminder of their shared intimacy. As she swung her legs over the side of the bed, she felt a dripping sensation, and looking down, she saw the evidence of their night together. A mix of emotions flooded her—embarrassment, satisfaction, and a twinge of sadness that their tryst was meant to be a one-time affair. 'That lying son of mine!' Li Mei thought to herself. 'He didn't need practice! He was already experienced enough!' Her cheeks flushed at the memory of her son's dominance, his skill, and the way he had made her feel. Her body ached for more, but she had made a promise to herself, and to him, that last night would be their only night together. Li Mei grabbed a small towel and began to clean herself. As she wiped away the last traces of their passion, she felt a pang of loss, but also a sense of resolution. She dressed quickly, wanting to make her way towards the bathing area. As she opened the door, she came face to face with her husband. Hei Zhòu's expression was one of concern, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked her over. "Honey, where have you been?" he asked, his voice laced with worry. "Why are you in our son's room?" Li Mei felt a spark of irritation at his touch, his hand heavy on her shoulder. She shrugged it off, her voice distant. "None of your business." Hei Zhòu's concern turned to confusion, then to mild annoyance. "None of your business? What's wrong with you?" Before he could press further, he sniffed the air, his nostrils flaring as he tried to place the scent. "What is that smell?" Li Mei, sensing her husband's curiosity, began to walk away quickly, her heart pounding in her chest. "It's nothing," she called over her shoulder. "..." Hei Zhòu watched his wife's retreating form, his brow furrowed in thought. "Really though... What was that smell?" he murmured to himself, the question hanging heavy in the air as he tried to guess. "Salty? Chlorine? Batter? Hmm..." Hei Zhòu shook his head, trying to dispel the growing sense of unease that had settled over him. "Whatever..." he muttered, turning his attention to the still-slightly open door of his son's bedroom. Not knowing why... He pushed the door open wider and stepped inside. The moment Hei Zhòu crossed the threshold, a smell hit him like a physical force. He recoiled, clamping a hand over his nose and mouth. "What the hell? Even stronger!" Hei Zhòu exclaimed, his voice muffled behind his hand. "What the fuck is this smell!?" He felt like a broken record...

Chapter 3: Preparations

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