Dual Cultivation: Gathering SSS-Rank Wives in the Cultivation World-Chapter 320 - Tianlong’s dealing with both women
The words hung in the air like a bad aftertaste, sharp and bitter, slicing right through the room’s heavy silence.
Sabrina’s golden eyes burned holes into him, fury twisting her tattooed face into something feral, humiliation churning in her gut worse than the poison still twisting her insides.
That smirk on Tianlong’s face? It was pure salt in the wound, more infuriating than the gut punches or the creeping numbness in her limbs.
He had her words thrown back at her, her own cutthroat lessons flipped like a knife in her back. ’Bastard learned too well,’ she thought, chest heaving as another wave of nausea hit, making her vision swim.
"You..." The word scraped out rough, caught in her throat by the fire raging through her veins.
Her dark skin gleamed with cold sweat, those swirling black tattoos on her arms and neck looking alive, coiling like shadows in the candlelight.
She couldn’t hold herself up anymore—legs buckled, and she slid down the cracked wall with a dull thud, ass hitting the floor hard.
Pain shot up her spine, but she bit it back, teeth grinding as she forced her body into a shaky lotus position.
Wild hair—amber and black streaks like a tiger’s hide—curtained her face, shutting out the world as she squeezed her eyes closed.
Focus. ’Come on, ki, burn this shit out.’
Her body cultivation kicked in hard, that raw life force roaring through her like a beast unchained, trying to wrap around the toxin and crush it flat.
But the poison was slick, slimy, slipping through her energy like oil on water.
Every push just stirred it up worse, sending fresh spikes of burning agony racing along her nerves.
A low groan ripped from her lips, frustration boiling over.
’Fucking hell, it’s burrowing in deep. Can’t shake it.’
Tianlong watched her squirm for a beat, that detached amusement flickering in his eyes like he was sizing up a cornered animal.
Then his gaze slid away, casual as ever, to the small bowl of congee on the table.
He fished out a tiny black pill and flicked it toward her—it bounced once on the floor right in front of her crossed legs.
"Antidote," he said, voice flat, like he was offering scraps to a stray.
Sabrina’s eyes cracked open, predator gold flashing with raw suspicion. She glared at the pill, then up at him, her gut twisting between the pain screaming in her belly and the urge to lunge.
’Trap? Or does he want me talking?’
With a guttural snarl that rattled her chest, she snatched it up, popping it dry.
Warmth bloomed slow, not a full fix but a smothering blanket over the flames—dulling the edge, giving her lungs room to pull in air without coughing blood.
It bought time, yeah, but she felt the poison simmering, waiting to flare back up.
He didn’t even wait for her to catch her breath. His eyes shifted, locking onto Sylvea huddled by the wrecked bed, her thin dress plastered to her pale skin from sweat and worse, clinging like a second skin.
The fabric stretched tight over her chest, those freakish nipples—long, curved horns of flesh, an inch thick—jabbing out sharp against the damp cloth, begging for attention even as her body trembled from the raw ache of that earlier pounding.
Every throb down there screamed ’his’, a humiliating reminder of how he’d broken her on that desk, body betraying her in front of everyone.
"Come," Tianlong said, the threat gone from his tone now, but that iron command lingered, wrapping around her like chains she couldn’t snap.
Sylvea flinched hard, green eyes darting from him to Sabrina—still panting against the wall, looking like she’d been dragged through hell—then back.
Her throat worked, swallowing thick as fear clawed up her spine.
’Not again. Not like this.’
But her legs moved anyway, hesitant shuffles carrying her over, green hair a tangled mess framing her flushed face. He patted the cushion next to him, casual.
"Closer."
She perched on the edge, body shaking like a leaf in a storm, close enough to feel the heat rolling off him. Tianlong scooped up a spoonful of the warm congee, holding it right to her lips.
She stared at it, wide-eyed terror freezing her—’the food, the poison, he’ll kill me slow’—memories of Sabrina’s collapse flashing hot.
His eyes narrowed, impatience sharpening the air. "Eat."
Tears pricked her eyes, spilling hot down her cheeks, but refusal wasn’t an option. She squeezed them shut, parted her lips, and let him slide the spoon in.
The swallow burned going down, her delicate mana channels screaming like glass cracking under acid. ’I’m no beast like her—my body’s fragile, pathways too fine. This’ll shatter me from the inside.’
She shot a desperate glance at Sabrina, head lolled back against the wall, but got nothing but heavy breaths in return. Spoonful after spoonful, it felt like swallowing her own doom, panic hammering in her chest.
Tianlong didn’t give a damn about her inner freakout, his focus drifting back to Sabrina as he gestured with the empty spoon like they were chatting over tea.
"Now," he started, voice smooth as silk over steel. "Tell me about the Tiger Clan."
Sabrina’s eyes snapped open at that, predator instinct forcing her spine straighter despite the poison still gnawing at her core. She pushed off the wall with a grunt, muscles protesting as she dragged herself upright.
One hand braced against the cracked plaster, the other pressed to her stomach where the fire burned hottest.
"Start with the Elders," he added, another spoonful disappearing into Sylvea’s trembling mouth.
A harsh laugh barked from Sabrina’s throat, ragged and broken, scraping raw. "Elders..."
She took a step forward, wobbling but driven by pure spite, her bare feet slapping against the cold floor.
"You wanna know about those old bitches?"
Another step, steadier now as the antidote did its work, her golden eyes never leaving his back.
"Shit, you’d slide right in with them. Same manipulative scum, twisting knives in the dark."
She paused, catching her breath, one hand reaching out to grip the edge of the table for support. The wood groaned under her white-knuckled grip.
"The whole system’s a goddamn ladder, and those crones perch at the top, claws out."
Her voice gained strength as she straightened, rolling her shoulders back despite the tremor in her limbs.
"Predator Clan runs the fifth inner circle—that’s us beast-kin turf."
She moved again, circling around the edge of the room with predatory slowness, her shadow stretching long across the flickering candlelight.
"Six main families: Tiger, Lion, Panther, Leopard, Jaguar, Cheetah. Each one’s a sub-clan, ripping throats to climb higher."
Tianlong nodded slow, spoon dipping for another load that he pressed to Sylvea’s lips. She took it numb, eyes glazing over as the poison gnawed deeper, her world narrowing to the couch’s edge.
Sabrina had closed half the distance now, her footsteps deliberate despite the poison still coursing through her veins. Each word carried the weight of old wounds.
"And the Tiger Clan’s holding the crown now?" he pressed, calm as a still pond.
"For now."
She was behind the couch now, just a few feet away, her presence looming like a storm about to break.
The bitterness twisted her full lips as she spoke.
"Every five hundred years, boom—grand tournament."
Her hands gripped the back of the couch, knuckles whitening as she leaned forward, close enough that her breath would’ve stirred his hair if he’d turned.
"All six families claw it out, winner’s clan takes the throne as head of the whole Predator mess."
One hand released the couch, rising slowly toward his shoulder as her voice dropped to something darker, more personal.
"That’s why our matriarchy’s iron-fisted; just a pretty excuse for the strongest bitches to stomp everyone else flat."
Her fingers hovered there, trembling—not from weakness now, but from the war raging inside her. The urge to wrap them around his throat, to squeeze until that smug calm cracked, burned through her like wildfire.
’Just do it. One twist. That’s all it takes.’
But her eyes lit up with old fire instead, fist thumping weak against her chest as she pulled back slightly—still defined abs flexing under the loose robe.
"Tiger Clan ran its own bloodbath to pick the champion for the next big show."
Her hand finally dropped onto his shoulder, not strangling but heavy, possessive in its weight.
"I crushed them all. Every last one."
The grip tightened, nails digging through fabric.
"I was it—the face of the clan."
Tianlong didn’t even flinch, his attention still split between Sylvea’s pale, sweating face and Sabrina’s confession. Another spoonful vanished into Sylvea’s mouth as she swayed, poison turning her limbs to lead.
"And the prize?" His voice stayed even, unfazed by the dangerous proximity.
Sabrina’s face warped behind him, ugly with the sting of it all, her fingers flexing once more on his shoulder—that murderous impulse surging hot again before she forced it down.
"A wish."
She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to something raw and wounded.
"Straight from the Matriarch’s mouth, no limits."
Her breath ghosted against his ear now, intimate in its violence.
"I was gonna pull my branch family up to the main line—get my mom and sisters out from under the main house’s boot, free for once."
Her voice hitched, cracking like dry earth, and her grip on his shoulder turned white-knuckled again.
’Just snap it. End this. He deserves—’
But Tianlong shifted then, a subtle movement that wasn’t quite pulling away but made her hand slip, breaking the contact. He reached for the bowl again, casual as breathing.
Sabrina stood frozen for a heartbeat, that moment of decision stolen from her, fury and frustration warring across her tattooed features.
"But my aunt, Ade—that slimy snake—slithers in, whispers the Matriarch’s got a ’special reward’ waiting."
She backed up a step, her voice rising again with renewed venom, hands clenching into fists at her sides.
"Sends me to this shithole wasteland for my ’true destiny.’ Bullshit."
Another step back, pacing now like a caged animal, the distance between them growing as she spiraled into the memory.
"She just wanted me vanished, out of the picture so her precious daughter could steal my spot."
She stared down at her hands, fists balling and unballing, knuckles whitening as rage simmered hot.
"Betrayed by my own blood."
Her voice went quiet, deadly.
"I’m gonna rip that bitch apart, slow."
The room went dead quiet after that, Sabrina’s chest rising and falling hard with the effort of spilling it all, pent-up fury leaking out like blood from a fresh cut. 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝙚𝙬𝓮𝙗𝒏𝙤𝒗𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝒐𝓶
She stood there, several paces back now, sweat-slick and seething, the moment of violence passed but not forgotten.
Tianlong set the empty bowl aside with a soft clink, eyes flicking over her—sprawled energy spent, rage exhausted—then to Sylvea, barely holding on, her body slumping as the poison’s grip tightened, breaths coming shallow and panicked.
He rose smooth, brushing off his robes like the mess around him was nothing.
"Very well done. Let’s head out."
