Chapter 41 — Anika's Desire
The mansion was silent.
Not the comfortable quiet of sleep, but the deep, watchful stillness that settled only when most of the world had gone dark. Corridors stretched empty beneath dim wall-lamps, their light softened by tall windows where moonlight slipped in like thin silver threads. Even the usual hum of distant activity had faded.
Inside one of the upper rooms, Lin Xuan sat against the headboard of his bed.
An ancient book lay open in his hands.
Its pages were thick and yellowed, the ink faded but precise—records of wars, alliances, and collapses from an era long before modern civilization had learned to name itself. It wasn't a cultivation manual, nor a technique scripture. It was history. Real history. The kind most people forgot because it didn't promise power.
Lin Xuan read calmly, eyes moving at an unhurried pace.
Then—
The door opened.
No knock. No hesitation.
Anika slipped inside like a shadow, closing the door behind her without a sound. Her steps were light, almost playful, as if she were afraid of waking someone who didn't exist.
Lin Xuan didn't look up.
The next instant, the mattress dipped sharply.
Anika jumped straight onto the bed and landed on him, wrapping herself around his torso with casual familiarity, her weight pressing him back against the pillows. One arm looped around his neck, the other braced against his chest.
"Onee-chan~," she whispered playfully, her face far too close for comfort. Her voice was soft, teasing, deliberately intimate. "I'm in the mood today. It's been years since we last did. Let's do it."
Lin Xuan turned a page.
"Last time I did that," he said calmly, eyes still on the scripture, "because I wanted to understand what intimacy feels like."
Anika froze.
Her playful expression cracked just slightly.
"…You're talking about our first time," she said after a moment. "What about the second time?"
Lin Xuan flipped another page, the sound of paper sliding softly in the quiet room.
"That was because you insisted," he replied evenly. "You were crying. Did you forget?"
Anika frowned.
She shifted, then reached up and caught his chin between her fingers, tilting his face toward her so he had no choice but to look at her. Her eyes searched his—sharp, probing, trying to find something beneath the surface.
Lin Xuan didn't resist.
"I'm not the kind of person who lets his little sister cry," he continued, voice steady. There was no accusation in it. No warmth either. Just fact.
He paused for half a second.
"And why are you even after me?" he asked. "Aren't you a lesbian?"
Anika didn't dodge the question.
"Yes," she said immediately. "I am… I don't know."
Then her tone changed—not dramatic, not playful. Just quieter.
"But you're different from others," she said. "I… I just love you."
Lin Xuan raised a hand and gently patted her head.
The gesture was slow. Deliberate. Almost parental.
"I don't know what love is," he said honestly. "But I know this isn't love."
His gaze remained calm—not cold, not cruel.
"This is lust."
Anika didn't argue.
She didn't laugh it off or pretend she hadn't heard.
"Whatever it is," she said stubbornly, tightening her hold slightly, "I don't care. Let's just do it."
For the first time, Lin Xuan closed the book.
He set it aside carefully on the bedside table, then looked directly at her.
"No," he said firmly. Not loudly. Not angrily. Just with finality. "You can sleep beside me if you want. But I'm not interested in being intimate with you."
For a heartbeat, Anika stared at him.
Then—
Her face lit up.
"Yes!" she said immediately, her earlier seriousness evaporating. She paused, eyes narrowing in sudden thought. "But wait."
She lifted herself slightly, as if struck by a brilliant idea.
"I'll bring someone else."
Before Lin Xuan could respond, before he could even ask what she meant—
Anika vanished.
The air where she had been rippled faintly, then settled.
Lin Xuan exhaled once, slowly, and leaned back against the headboard, eyes lifting toward the dark ceiling.
The night was far from over.
Anika reappeared less than a minute later.
She wasn't alone.
Her hand was wrapped firmly around someone's wrist — slender, pale, trembling slightly under the pressure. Yan'er stumbled forward as the space behind them closed with a faint distortion, her silver hair catching the moonlight.
"Brother Lin~," Anika said, smiling proudly, "she'll join us."
Lin Xuan blinked once.
Then twice.
"…Anika," he said evenly, "what are you doing?"
"Solving a problem," she replied, tone too casual for the situation. "You said you wouldn't sleep with me. Fine. So I brought someone who won't say no."
Yan'er's eyes widened slightly. "Wait—I—"
Anika turned toward her, still smiling. "Right, Yan'er?"
Yan'er hesitated. Her lips parted, then closed again. Her fingers twitched in Anika's grasp. "I—uh—Anika, this isn't—"
"Anika," Lin Xuan said, cutting through her words. His tone wasn't loud, but it carried weight—like a quiet warning before a storm. "Don't force her. A young woman and a man shouldn't be alone in one room like this. It can damage her reputation."
Anika tilted her head, pouting. "No one will know."
"That's not the point."
Yan'er exhaled softly, gathering herself. Her eyes flicked to Lin Xuan—gentle, uncertain, but determined.
"…It's okay, Brother Lin," she said, her voice calm but shy. "I don't mind."
Lin Xuan looked at her for a long moment.
Then sighed.
He stood, walked to the window, and closed the curtains. Moonlight faded, replaced by the dim glow of the bedside lamp. The room's shadows softened, the air becoming still.
"Fine," he said quietly. "But only to rest. Nothing more."
Anika brightened immediately. "Perfect!"
Before Lin Xuan could object again, she flopped back onto the bed, claiming the center spot like she'd just won a silent battle.
"Come on," she said cheerfully. "Left side's yours, Yan'er. Brother Lin, you take the right."
Yan'er froze.
"Eh—?"
But Anika had already pulled her down by the wrist.
Lin Xuan rubbed his temple, but said nothing. He simply sat on the bed's edge, then lay back against the pillow.
The lights dimmed further—soft amber hues tracing the shape of the three figures across the sheets.
Anika stretched with a satisfied sigh, eyes half-closed, a faint smile on her lips. "Finally… warm."
Yan'er lay stiffly beside her at first, hands folded over her chest, staring at the ceiling as if uncertain how she had ended up there.
Lin Xuan lay on the other side, eyes open, gaze unfocused, the closed scripture still resting quietly on the bedside table beside him.
Minutes passed.
Anika's breathing slowed first.
Then deepened.
Yan'er's followed soon after, the tension easing from her shoulders as sleep gradually found her. Her face softened under the faint light.
Only Lin Xuan remained awake.
He turned his head slightly.
Anika was half-curled, her hand resting carelessly near Yan'er's arm. Their hair—raven and silver—spilled across the same pillow, glowing faintly in the soft lamplight. Both looked peaceful. Innocent, even.
Lin Xuan's eyes lingered for a moment.
Then he looked away.
He closed his eyes, exhaling slowly.
The room fell into silence.
Three steady heartbeats.
Three synchronized breaths.
No lines were crossed. No words spoken.
Just quiet.
Outside, the moon slipped behind drifting clouds, and the night finally settled over the mansion—undisturbed, unbroken, and calm.
—Next Chapter: Asura Invasion Arc—