Read Novel Full Chapter 771 - The notes of the great creator (01)
Chapter 771: 771 - The notes of the great creator (01)
"Gulk~~ Gulp... Gulp... Gulp... Gulp..." Rou’er’s delicate throat worked eagerly, contracting with each thick, hot spurt as Qingyi’s cock throbbed against her tongue, shooting cum straight into her mouth.
She swallowed greedily, six thick spurts sliding down her throat one after another, until she finally gave in and fell backward.
Qingyi’s cock slipped from her rosy lips with a wet pop, still throbbing one last time to release a thick spurt that landed on her flushed face.
"Ah... are you satisfied now? You naughty little brat." Qingyi smiled, gripping the base of his still-hard cock with his hand and moving it in a slow, teasing rhythm, causing the swollen glans to sway and smack against her lips.
Soft, wet slaps echoed with each movement, Rou’er’s lips still half-open as the pink tip of her tongue slipped out from between them, glistening with the white strands of cum.
She leaned forward slightly, capturing the cock between her delicate fingers and calmly running her tongue along its entire length, licking up every stubborn drop that had been left behind until it glistened with nothing but her saliva.
"Hm... now I am, hehehe~" Rou’er let out a cheerful, satisfied giggle as she stood up with a mischievous little smile on her face.
With a slight wave of her hands and a flow of Qi, she washed the cum from her face and chest, returning to her usual radiant and flawless appearance, as if none of it had ever happened.
"Haha... how are the wedding preparations coming along?" Qingyi asked, pulling Rou’er onto his lap, her plump ass molding comfortably against his thighs.
At the same time, his hands slid down to her plump, soft thighs, his fingers sinking into the mound of tender flesh that formed just above the tight elastic of her thigh-high stockings.
He squeezed possessively, his fingers digging even deeper, drawing a gasping, trembling sigh from her.
"W-well, nghnn~~ we’re just putting the finishing touches on things... everything should be ready for the wedding next month." She leaned back, resting her head against her husband’s firm chest, letting herself be enveloped by his warmth.
"Good. Are the other girls okay with the triple wedding?" he asked, slowly stroking her pink hair, twirling a strand between his fingers.
Rou’er nodded with a nasal sound, rubbing her face against his chest. "Yes! Yunxi is the most excited, hehehe~~ we can’t wait for next month to come—big brother Qingyi won’t be late, right?"
"No." He gave a low chuckle and, gripping Rou’er’s generous hips firmly, helped her to her feet.
With her butt now at the level of his lips, he lifted her short pink dress even higher, revealing her plump, shapely cheeks in all their glory.
He gave one of them a gentle slap, feeling his palm sink slightly into the tender flesh before the plump cheek wobbled in response, trembling in slow motion before settling back into place.
Before the last tremor had even subsided, he leaned in and pressed a wet kiss onto the faint red mark his fingers had left.
"Ah... your big brother needs to focus on his cultivation a bit now... are you really satisfied with that, or do you want a little more?"
"Rou’er always wants a little more, hehehe." She replied in an adorable, mischievous voice. "But today, I’ll take pity on my future husband, hehehe~"
With a soft giggle, Rou’er finally left the cultivation room, leaving Qingyi alone.
The handsome young man sighed, smoothed out his clothes, and then sat cross-legged on the mat.
His eyes immediately fell on the book of the Nine Paths of Creation Reversal Art.
He thought for a brief moment and, without hesitation, opened it.
Although Qingyi had opened the book to the first page of the technique itself, that wasn’t exactly the first page of the book.
Before it, there was a page that left him even more shocked and excited.
A page of notes—a page of notes written by the great creator himself!
Qingyi steadied his breathing, carefully studying the written words, as if each stroke might vanish should he look away for even an instant.
It was written in a language called the Sky Language, spoken by all the people of every region across all the heavens.
Even he, who upon arriving in this world knew nothing but English, was able to understand it perfectly.
It was something ingrained in the heart of every living being. Even beasts that had never exchanged a single word with a human mastered it by instinct.
He did not continue reading immediately, waiting a brief moment until Auranys appeared at his side, looking at the page with as much curiosity as he did.
Those were her grandfather’s notes.
Of course she was excited.
Together, they began to read.
[I do not know if this will ever be found, nor if any of my creations—or one like me, if such a being truly exists—will ever be able to read this.
I created the Sky Language to write this. From my blood I made the ink, and from my skin, the paper; from my soul, the stars, and from my tears, the rivers.
From my solitude I made the void, and from my heart, I made the first of the first.
And I no longer remember when I first became aware of my own existence, nor do I remember how long it took me to forge this body, to forge this garden, and to feel the air filling my lungs.
The first one is still a tiny, adorable little thing. I named him Celestial. My first child.
From the primordial chaos I was born, I took control, and then I departed.
Here, in the primordial order, where all is still and nothing exists, I created the first star. I created the first tree and I created the first river.
And here, gazing at the great mountains forged by my own hands, I write this cultivation art.
For I am the beginning and the end, life and death, the first and the last, the creator of all.
I brought forth darkness, I brought forth light, and I gave my firstborn the red of my heart.
He stole the paintbrushes and painted his emotions gray.
I am dying now. I know this.
I was unable to kill my little Celestial.
Even when I sealed him away, I was not even able to take back the power I had given him.
I am the one above all others.
The strongest of all.
The bravest of all.
The weakest of all.
The most cowardly of all.
I am the one below all.
The most divine God.
The most insignificant worm.
I gave myself a heart, and because of it, I am weak.
I created a second son, in my image and after my heart. I gave him all that remained of me, everything I had not given to this universe.
He calls himself the Heavenly Father—isn’t that funny? I don’t know where he got that name from. He never met his brother.
It’s strange to see such a little boy calling himself father.
I am leaving this martial art behind because I know that he, too, has a heart that is far too soft; I know that he, too, will be unable to kill his brother.
For he is all that remains of my heart.
He is my empathy, my love, and my hope—everything his brother lacked.
Now, for me, there is nothing left.
May my sons find the peace I never found. May you free my eldest son from his suffering—the suffering caused by his unworthy father.]