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Chapter 10: The Dream That Bloomed in Shame
Two years.
Two years of swallowing bitterness.
Two years of forcing down rage while watching younger disciples surpass him.
While elders whispered that his time had passed.
While even outer disciples dared to pity him.
Yan Xue trained until his bones cracked, forced Qi into dead-end meridians, and screamed into silent voids where no god answered.
His body was battered, but his pride… was somehow still intact.
Twisted. Fragile. But clinging.
And yet, night after night, the Black Lotus Pamphlet returned.
Folded neatly. Unmarked. Waiting.
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He'd read it a hundred times.
Its words were burned into his memory—each line more blasphemous than the last.
"You will bloom into divine beauty—feminine, soft, eternal."
"Your body shall become a conduit of Yin, reshaped by the Sutra."
"You shall belong to the Sect Master alone."
"Your past will be shed. Your power shall be unmatched."
Each promise came with a cost Yan Xue could not yet bear.
"A man… giving himself to another?"
"Becoming a soft-bodied flower for some… monster?"
"No. That's not power. That's humiliation.It's corrupt."
He shook with fury.
His fists clenched.
His nails bit into his palms.
His male pride rebelled at the very thought.
"I'm not some...sissy disciple who spreads his legs for power."
"I'm a man of the righteous path."
Even as he said it, a voice deep inside mocked him.
"A righteous man who's weak?"
"A proud man who's already broken?"
And that night, as tears stung his eyes and frustration choked his throat...
The dream came again.
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The Garden of Lotus
He stood in a garden that could not exist.
Black lotus flowers floated in the air, stretching into a sky of endless twilight.
The air was thick with incense—sweet, heavy, intoxicating.
And the sound of hymns… soft moans, humming chants, seductive breathless gasps—woven into the wind itself.
Sutra of the blooming void
Then came the steps.
Soft, slow, deliberate.
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The Heavenly Demon Descends.
He appeared not like a god… but like a law given form.
Bare-chested, eyes ancient, hair flowing like strands of night silk. His presence didn't radiate Qi—it commanded submission.
He sat on a throne made of Black Lotus petals.
dominant. Divine. Distant.Vast .
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"You struggle."
His voice cracked open the dream like thunder splitting heaven.
Yan Xue fell to his knees instantly, not by choice but by reality shifting.
"You wear shame like armor… forged by those who feared your nature."
Yan Xue tried to speak. Nothing came.
The Heavenly Demon stepped down. He stood before Yan Xue—looking through him.
Then he raised his hand.
And something awoke in Yan Xue's soul.
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He saw himself—transformed:
Hair cascading down his back like black water.
Body supple, graceful, glowing with Qi not of men or women—but of something divine.
Eyes wet with devotion. Skin perfect. Aura terrifying.
A femboy, yes. But one who drew sects to collapse, who made emperors kneel, who made power beautiful.
"This is not a curse," the Heavenly Demon whispered.
"Your body… was always meant to bloom. You were born with a Heavenly Yin Body—a female-specific physique sealed in male flesh."
"You were never meant to walk the righteous path."
"You were meant to seduce the cosmos."
Yan Xue gasped. His spirit shook.
"The righteous path denied your nature. The Silk Lotus Sect unveils it."
He felt it now.
Like a dam breaking.
Like a long-restrained current of Qi flowing with purpose.
Power.
Real power.
It wasn't masculine.
It wasn't righteous.
It was his.
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He woke gasping.
Clothes soaked.
Body trembling.
Throat dry.
He looked down.
Hard.
But beneath that arousal… was a void. A hole where certainty used to be.
"No," he whispered.
"That... that's not me..."
But even as he said it, something deeper whispered:
"Then why did it feel so right?"
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