"Haah"
The airship's hum faded into the background as I activated the pleasure palace, the bracelet on my wrist pulsing with a soft glow.
The cramped utility closet—Jian Wei's petty "gift"—shimmered and expanded seamlessly, reality bending like silk as the dimensional space unfolded.
Mei Ling and Lin Yue stumbled slightly from the shift, their eyes widening at the familiar opulent chamber materializing around us: velvet walls, flickering candles, and that massive king-size bed draped in red sheets, pristine as if no one had ever touched it.
We stepped fully inside, the door sealing behind us with a quiet click, shutting out the sect ship's stale air and the disciples' lingering resentment.
Mei clutched my arm for balance, her pencil skirt still riding high from the shove past the goons, while Lin scanned the room like it might sprout traps.
The palace's ambient qi washed over us, soothing the adrenaline crash from the confrontation.
I guided them toward the bed, my steps casual, like we'd just strolled into a tavern instead of hijacking a closet for an interdimensional fuck pad.
Mei trailed her fingers along the silk sheets, frowning slightly.
"It's strange... this place cleaned itself," she said, glancing around at the spotless surfaces—no blood from earlier battles, no scattered toys from our "tour." Her voice was soft, still laced with that innocent wonder.
I nodded, stretching my arms wide and rolling my shoulders with an exaggerated groan, tugging at my suit vest like I'd spent the day hauling boulders.
"Yeah, weird, huh? Must be some self-maintaining array or something." Total lie—the palace handled its own upkeep—but it fit the act, making me look like the overworked provider.
Mei smiled faintly, buying it, her rose-glow cheeks flushing a bit as she sat on the bed's edge.
Lin Yue didn't bite. She claimed a seat at the foot of the bed, hands folded neatly in her lap, her jeans tightened around her thighs like she was attending a formal council instead of crashing in a sex god's lair.
Those sharp green eyes locked onto me, suspicion etched in every line of her face—watching, waiting, like an archer sighting prey.
I met her gaze for a beat, then flopped back onto the bed without a word, resting my head deliberately in her lap.
Her thighs were firm and warm under me, the danime was rough but her thighs were thick and soft against my cheek, and she tensed just a fraction, breath catching.
But her eyes narrowed, flicking down—trying to figure if my stare was glued to her boobs, straining against the tight fabric right above my face, or actually on her eyes.
Naturally, it was the latter. I held that intense green gaze steadily, letting the silence build, before closing my eyes with a contented sigh. "You're a distraction, Yue. Too damn beautiful for your own good."
She didn't pull away, but I felt her shift slightly, her body heat radiating through the thin material. The palace's subtle aphrodisiac hum lingered in the air—mild, nothing overpowering—but it made the moment thicker, more charged.
Before I could sink into the quiet, I felt a gentle tug at my feet. Mei had taken a seat on the opposite side, lifting my legs onto her lap without asking, her hands resting lightly on my calves.
The pencil skirt hugged her curves as she adjusted, her perky C-cups pressing against the fabric, and she started massaging my feet absentmindedly, like it was the most natural thing.
I couldn't help it—a low chuckle escaped me, eyes still closed, the absurdity of it all hitting like a good joke.
Here I was, sandwiched between two stunning women in a pleasure palace, playing house after dodging death all day.
Lin Yue's voice cut through, sharp but curious. "What's with that smile?"
I cracked one eye open, peering up at her from her lap. "Nothing. Just... do you hate me?" The question slipped out genuine, no teasing edge—her earlier words in the spring still echoed in my head, that raw hate for men like me.
She blinked, those green eyes softening a fraction, her folded hands unclenching slightly. Her reply came slow, measured. "No."
Simple as that. I let it hang for a beat, then pushed further. "Then... do you love me?"
Her breath hitched, but she didn't look away. "Yes."
It was confusing as hell—her words from before clashed with this quiet admission, like a storm cloud breaking into sunlight. I raised a brow, still lounging in her lap. "Then why don't you let me fuck you?"
The question landed like a stone in still water. Lin Yue went silent, an involuntary reflex kicking in as she placed a hand on my forehead, her fingers starting to caress my hair gently. It was soft, surprisingly tender, her touch light as feathers, sending a strange warmth through me that had nothing to do with the system. "Because I don't want it to be something done by bodily desires," she said finally, her voice steady but vulnerable.
I smiled, eyes half-lidded, enjoying the feel of her fingers. "But isn't becoming one what starts the bond of love?"
She shook her head, a faint smile tugging at her lips now, her caress never stopping. "If just by sleeping bonds were to form, then every whore would have a lover."
Her words stung a bit—crude, philosophical, hitting right at the system's twisted core. I chuckled again, the sound low and genuine, shifting slightly in her lap.
"So, Yue, for you, what does love exactly mean?" I really wanted to know—how she saw this world, this mess of qi and conquest. For me, everything had been giggles, pounces, the thrill of the chase—maybe corrupted by too much porn and jerking off back in my old life.
I didn't get this "love" thing when the bed felt like the ultimate connection. To me, that was love, raw and physical.
She paused, her fingers weaving through my hair thoughtfully, eyes distant like she was pulling from some deep well. "Love means the feeling where you don't need the other person to be with you to feel completed. Just their memory's presence fills you with silence."
I interrupted before she could finish, opening my eyes fully to meet hers. "Explain it in a way that I understand. I mean, explain it in a perverted way." My voice was light, but curious—wanting her to bridge that gap between her philosophy and my... well, horniness.
She blinked, then laughed softly, the sound warm and unexpected. Her hand didn't stop caressing, and as our eyes met, something strange fluttered in my chest—not lust, but a quiet spark, like my heart skipped for the first time without the system's prodding. I blinked back, caught off guard.
"If it's in your way," she said, leaning in a bit, her breasts pressing softly against my face through the robe as she adjusted, "then love means you don't need to touch, just call the person. They will be comfort.
Even the memory or a single thought of that person makes the body heat up. It stings when you see the man you love with another woman, yet feels good that he is at least happy.
You become complete in a way where you do not feel hurt even seeing the other sleeping around—instead, it feels relieving that he is walking the path after exhaustion he will return to you. Or if not, you are complete to begin with."
Her words didn't make total sense at first—philosophical ramblings mixed with that perverted twist I'd asked for—but damn, I got it.
It clicked like a puzzle piece snapping in.
Back in my old life, after jerking off to porn, that post-nut clarity hit: no lust, just silence, a weird peace where everything felt... complete.
No raging desires, just calm. And now, with the inheritance keeping me aroused 24/7, like a perpetual hard-on, her words cut through the haze. Love as something beyond the bed, a quiet fire that burned steady, not explosive.
I felt her eyes on me, soft and searching, and for a moment, my heart did that strange thing again—fluttering without the system's ping. I blinked, meeting her gaze fully. "Do you feel hurt when I sleep with other women?"
She tilted her head, her smile gentle, almost sad. "Do you feel happy about it?"
"Yeah," I admitted, no bullshit. "I love them."
She leaned in closer then, her breasts pressing fully against my face now, warm and soft through the silk, a kiss landing tenderly on my cheek. "Then I am happy."
The words hung there, simple and profound, her caress on my forehead turning even softer. I closed my eyes again, letting the moment sink in—until.
"Sob... sniff... hic," came the breaking voice of Mei, who seemed to have started crying for some reason.
[System Alert: Emotional Bond Deepened - Unexpected Resonance]
[Harem Points +50]
[Bond with Lin Yue: Upgraded to S-Rank - True Affection Unlocked]
I ignored the ping, pulling my eyes towards my dear wife. I let myself see how she was crying, her wrist trying to clear away her tears, something that was confusing, causing me to slowly lift myself. As I sat, stretching my hand and cupping her cheek, I said, "What happened?"
"Hic... I-I can never love you as much, Yue... sh-she, hic..." And then, while crying, the maid revealed a clear, strange side that I did not understand.
I kept looking as if I were silenced in that moment, as it was confusing why she was crying even when I told—no, even showed her—how much I love her all night long.
Something she still didn't express, even though the system said she had 100% loyalty.
So why was she doubting herself?
To break my doubt was a voice from behind me.
"Sigh, now you see the main issue with sleeping around?"