The night was heavy with the scent of jasmine and rose, the warm glow of lanterns casting soft, flickering shadows along the streets. It was here, amidst the subtle hum of activity, that Xiuying moved with the stealth of a predator, her presence masked by the deepening night.
Her destination was a beauty parlour known for its luxurious treatments and wealthy clientele. But Xiuying wasn’t here for pampering. She had caught wind of a powerful magical item—a tiara capable of amplifying the wearer’s abilities. It was in the possession of the parlour’s owner, a shrewd woman with connections to influential cultivators. The tiara would make a perfect gift for her second wife.
She slipped through the shadows, her senses aware of the surrounding energy. She moved like a whisper, unseen and unheard, until she was in the owner’s private office. The tiara sat on a plush velvet cushion, its intricate design gleaming under the faint light of a single candle.
With careful fingers, she lifted the tiara, a smirk playing on her lips as she imagined her second wife’s reaction. The tiara was as beautiful as it was powerful. But as she prepared to leave, a familiar aura reached her senses—a presence she had encountered before, one that both intrigued and unsettled her. The energy was unmistakable: Ye Zhuang.
With her curiosity piqued, Xiuying tucked the tiara into her robes and followed the aura, slipping silently through the parlour’s corridors. It wasn’t long before she found the source.
In a private room draped in silks and bathed in the warm light of scented candles, Zhuang lay on a massage table, her robe discarded on a rack. Xiuying stood in the shadows, her breath catching as she took in the sight before her.
Ye Zhuang’s body was a work of art. Every curve, every line, a witness to her beauty and strength. The masseuse’s hands moved over her skin, pressing into the muscles and coaxing them into relaxation. Each time the masseuse’s hands left a part of her skin, it would bounce back with a softness that contradicted the power that lay beneath.
Xiuying’s eyes traced the lines of Zhuang’s body, from the elegant curve of her neck to the delicate arch of her back, to the way her hair, dark as the night itself, spread out like a river of shadows. There was something hypnotic about watching her, something that stirred a deep, familiar desire within her.
She watched as Zhuang’s hair was washed, each strand carefully tended to. She observed the masseuse’s hands move to her feet, the gentle kneading of each toe, the way Zhuang’s toes curled in pleasure. The sight of Zhuang’s serene expression, eyes closed in bliss, made her heart beat faster.
For the first time, Xiuying felt a longing she hadn’t anticipated—a desire to be the one to touch Zhuang in such an intimate way, to be part of her life not as a rival or ally, but as something more. She didn’t know where these feelings came from, but they burned within her with an intensity that was both exciting and terrifying.
As Xiuying stood there, lost in her thoughts, the atmosphere in the room shifted. A new presence entered a man whose aura was filled with the remnants of a once-passionate connection. He approached Ye Zhuang, his voice low as he greeted her.
Xiuying’s eyes narrowed as she watched the exchange. The man was clearly someone who had once been close to her, and the tension between them was strong. Their conversation started civil enough, but it quickly escalated into an argument, voices rising in anger and frustration.
Just suddenly, the argument shifted again; the anger giving way to something more primal. The man grabbed Zhuang, pulling her close, and their lips met in a heated kiss. It was a display of passion that sent a jolt of fury through Xiuying, her earlier desire morphing into something darker, more dangerous.
The air in the room grew heavy with Xiuying’s killing intent, the temperature dropping as her anger flared. She watched, fists clenched, as the couple’s embrace grew more intense. The man’s hands roamed over Zhuang’s body with a familiarity that made her blood boil.
Suddenly, the couple froze, their senses picking up the danger that surged in the room. They broke apart, eyes wide as they scanned the shadows for the source of the menacing energy.
But Xiuying was already gone, slipping away as silently as she came. The fury still burning within her as she made her way back to her second wife’s sect, the tiara now a reminder of the emotions she hadn’t expected to confront.
When she arrived at her second wife’s quarters, she found her waiting, a serene smile on her face. Xiuying presented the tiara, watching as her wife’s eyes lit up with delight. But the fire that had been ignited within her by the sight of Ye Zhuang hadn’t been extinguished—it had only grown.
With a hunger born of anger and desire, Xiuying closed the distance between them, pulling Mei Lin into a passionate embrace. Her wife welcomed her eagerly, their bodies moving together in a dance. The tiara, now nestled on her wife’s head, glowed with a soft light as it amplified her powers, adding to the intensity of their connection.
*
Meanwhile, back at the beauty parlour, Zhuang dismissed her ex-boyfriend. “This is the last time you show your face in front of me. I told you it’s over between us.”
“Didn’t look like that when I had you screaming just now,” he scoffed.
She smacked him across the face. “I’ll kill you!” She had no desire to rekindle what they once had—her mind was now occupied with something, or rather someone, far more intriguing.
As she left the parlour, the news of the theft reached her ears. But she couldn’t bring herself to care about the stolen item. What mattered more was the sense of danger she had felt, the killing intent that had filled the room and forced her to confront her emotions.
‘I wonder who it was? That intent was dangerous, but at least it got us to stop. I would’ve fallen for his charm again.’
