Daily Release After This (18k words done!):

"Lost in our beauty you may have been, but we shall not repeat ourselves thrice." The vixen puffed; no jiggle this time. "We shall excuse you the first phase of the sect recruitment, which will occur in this Dim gold city village. Yet for phase two, the wild hunt of fiends in the Warring twilight forest, you shall have to prove yourself to us if you wish to stay our servant. The same goes for phase three, the one-on-one combat tournament.”

Yung agreed. He didn’t want to, but he had to.

“We shall leave this city for the Moonvalley trade city after phase one, where the second phase of the sect recruitments will commence. Prepare yourself in the meanwhile, as only the best may join our entourage. The sect recruitments occur quinquennially; thus, you shall have but this one chance.”

“Fairy Nyanya, shouldn’t I search for your foxball?”

“…”

“…I bit my tongue.”

Snicker!

“Maid. Your pay is deducted.”

The maid didn’t show any reaction. The vixen wasn’t amused and turned back towards Yung.

“Perchance, if you can find and deliver to us our artefact before we are to leave, we shall bestow upon you further boons? Take it as an additional trial, oh newest servant. As for the reward,” Su Nanya said. She played with her golden locks with a foxy glint in her eyes. “Shall we say, treasures to live longer? Fix your countenance? Or help you woo the hand of the lady of your dreams? We are all powerful.” She waved her dainty arms, “You are excused.”

Yung did excuse himself, running back to his hotel room. Food be damned, he had a yaoguai to interrogate.

***

After Ziyou Yung left, Nanya collapsed backwards with an annoyed groan.

"It makes not the foggiest sense!" She punched the pillow, hugged it, and then rolled around the bed. "Our jingqi should not refine so fervently, even if that boy practised yang qi dual cultivation. And did you see how much our jingqi seduced his weak, peasant mind? Not one soul other than those men of extreme yang should feel such intense and predatory lust towards our extreme yin! But his yang is as weak as these penniless commoners get. Merely of enough quantity to be enthralled in our charms, yet nowhere near strong enough to break free of them and be so...so audacious!”

“Do you not want him to be audacious?” Su Yafeng asked.

“It is fine.” Nanya replied.

“Does your yin react just as strongly?”

“It is the exact opposite. We find his weak yang so repulsive, it disgusts us to stay in the same room. As though he were a slimy worm or a jellyfish feeler, trying to crawl up our thighs with that strange, woolly-headed smile of his.”

“Have you experienced it before, m’lady?”

Nanya replied instantly. “We have! For men of weak yang are everywhere, and each time they glance at us with aphrodisiacal eyes, it sends tingles down our tail.”

“I meant slimy worms crawling up m’lady’s thighs.”

“Maid,” Nanya said, “dare you humiliate us?”

“Then where did m’lady learn such similes?” Su Yafeng pressed on without missing a beat. Nanya knew it was because of her overly anxious mother.

“Oh there was this book…”

“Perhaps m’lady doubts him?” Su Yafeng asked, bringing back the topic to the servant boy again after having her answer.

“We do not. At least Ziyou Yung’s claim that he cultivated this severed yang what ever technique. His physique certainly has that refined yang qi feel to it. Again, if barely.”

“M’lady utters immoral words today. Come to think of it, these tingles you mentioned before. Were they of the pleasurable sort?”

“Yet, when we touched him,” Nanya threw a bolster at her maid. The best way to keep the conversation on track was to ignore the expressionless interrogator. “The efficiency of our zhenqi conversion reached almost the realm of those drunk minstrel epics, with nearly a one-in-ten-thousand ratio. We doubt even actual intercourse can produce such results.” Nanya screamed into the pillow.

Jingqi was a particular type of yuanqi, and Nanya's special physique type could only cultivate jingqi into zhenqi. Known as the primordial yang in men and the primordial yin in women, the best way to refine this jingqi was via carnal acts—dual cultivation, as it was most conspicuously known, demanded, and practised.

A single flick to the forehead was not dual cultivation.

Nanya arrived at the only logical thing to do and looked up. “We must confirm this matter in the field! Maid, dress us in satin.”

“Why not force him to speak?” Su Yafeng sighed, then closed the windows.

“He may not even know the reason. And if he did, we would not force ourselves upon a gentleman’s secret so uncouthly.”

“M’lady keeps uttering these immodest words. You need to move on from that person, or I fear you may become a depraved spinster.”

“We have no idea what you speak of.” Nanya was genuinely confused. “But it is a must that we confirm by ourselves why that boy intrigues our jingqi. That is all there is to it.”

“I still think m’lady is overreacting. You have nothing to compare the touch with. Perhaps for you, any man will do.” Su Yafeng unhinged the knot at her lady’s hip, and the silken see-through skirt dropped.

“How rude. We had clawed through eight members of that bandit clan that attacked our convoy last week. Our dainty claws certainly touched those men before they died, and our jingqi barely moved.”

“I warn m’lady to take care when using the word member. The nuance of what you touched may be understood by the listener differently than what you convey. So please stop reading strange, demonic books.” Su Yafeng untied Nanya’s brassiere and then went to remove her pingtian realm underthing artefacts. The sinful body that had tempted empires and felled religions was revealed for no one to see.

From her storage ring, Su Yafeng quickly brought out an unsaturated satin dress—the same immodest two-piece outfit but in grey—to cover the dazzling sight.

Grey satin suited Nanya. Her usual red was too flashy and, honestly, stung Su Yafeng’s eyes.

Nanya paid her insolent maid no heed. She checked herself for imperfections in the mirror, then reapplied lustre rouge. The day was yet young. In any form, it would not do to look unrefined.

***

Youjin Chun stood in a sombre mood in front of Yung’s room; her entourage of maids, servants, and one sweaty hotel manager made Yung turn back and walk straight up the stairs again.

“Ziyou Yung,” Youjin Chun called out. “This Youjin Chun has a matter to discuss.”

“I-I have something to do—” Yung pretended to be hesitant.

“Please.” Youjin Chun bowed her head to the shock of everyone else. The resulting glare from the Youjin clan members was not a welcome event.

Yung sighed and started his humming ritual. There’s only so much stress a guy could handle in one day.

He reluctantly agreed, following Youjin Chun past a hallway, into a luxuriously decorated room: black furniture, wooden floor, and gold ornaments.

Yung sat down on a mat, face to face with the Youjin heiress. A maid brewed tea by the side. Only one other Youjin clan cultivator was in the room.

He had an impressive build, with a muscular frame, thick neck, and broad shoulders. He wore a black Youjin-coloured shirt and a pair of loose trousers, and his eyes were sharp and alert as he leaned against the window frame with a large, two-handed sword almost as tall as he was. The weapon had an intimidating presence that spoke of its formidable power. Even without flexing, the man's face contorted into a stern leer, and his eyes seemed to be hollow and dark, like they had their own gravity. The clouds outside cast shadows over his face, making him look even more menacing.

Yung gulped.

The beefy guy was a foundation building realm elder. Yung had seen him around the Dim gold citadel and in the talent hall but could not remember his name.

“First of all,” The heiress said, and Yung looked her way with his best poker face. “I would like to apologise on behalf of Youjin Hong.” She bowed again.

How polite. All three times Yung saw this girl today, she had bowed in some manner or another.

“Will he not apologise in person?” Yung said, pretending to be in pain. He smudged a rice stain on his robe as though to clean it, which worsened the stain.

Youjin Chun hid her wincing emotions perfectly, if not for the golden threads Yung could read.

“That’s fine. Wasn’t expecting him to anyway.” Yung did not take the tea. “Can you cut to the topic? Fairy Nanya ordered me with a very important task. I need to do it as soon as possible.”

“Very well, I don’t like to meander either.” Youjin Chun’s smile was dazzling and calm, but her golden thread read rage and fear. So Yung didn’t know what to make of that. “I hope you can arrange me an audience with Fairy Su.”

“Ah…”

“Is it not possible? Rest assured; the clan will reward you greatly. You can trust in—”

“My grandfather, Youjin Bao, left me a letter before he passed. It was his will, detailing my inheritance. Only three Westmoon gold coins from it made their way to me. That’s three lesser spirit stones if I am being generous.” Yung said slowly, still not touching the tea. “He had a houtian 2nd grade uncommon class jade carving toolset. Uncommon! The bloody merchant he bought it from wouldn’t sell it for any price lower than one thousand lesser spirit stones. His total assets were at least ten times that, equalling a whole steelcast spirit stone!”

Youjin Chun gaped, then flushed. She hurriedly hid her face with a fan and said, “I am certain there is a misunderstanding.”

Remembering the inheritance his grandpa left him soured Yung’s mood. He decided it was about time to clarify his stance with the clan. He coughed, then finally took the tea. It shouldn’t be poisoned. Not here, so near the fox yao.

“Young mistress Chun.” He said with an amicable smile. “I understand.”

“Huh?” Youjin Chun said. “You do?”

Yung nodded. “I am a madlander half. Other clans would have kicked me out the moment my grandfather died. Even those three gold coins the clan gave me were a mercy. I truly am grateful that I could still have a roof and a job under the Youjin clan’s care.”

“I am glad you think that way.”

“Indeed. But you see, I am a madlander. And madlanders aren’t treated well anywhere. I have to do what I must to survive, and Fairy Nanya gave me a chance to prove myself. To prove my loyalty.” Yung removed the sound capturing token from his pouch and pushed it forward.

Youjin Chun accepted it. She heard its contents as her raven eyes paled to a grey.

“T-This is…”

“Fairy Nanya saved me. I can forgive all insults aimed at me, but not one at my saviour.” Yung eyed the foundation establishment elder. He sat by the window drinking, not showing interest in the conversation. Seemingly, that was. Now would be a great time to erase the evidence.

“Have you shown this to Fairy Su?” Youjin Chun’s voice was cold. It was as though a sudden winter had visited this room.

As I thought. All that blustering was an act.

“The Youjin clan doesn’t deserve to perish for the mistakes of one dumb bully.” Yung smiled, neither affirming nor denying. “But I find the clan’s sincerity lacking. I can’t ask Fairy Nanya to meet with you without knowing if your intentions aren’t sinister. Not in good faith.”

“…This is a copy.” Youjin Chun said. “You made copies of these.”

“The fox yao are nice folks. If something happens to Lord Yaoguai or me, then who else can help Fairy Nanya find her foxball?”

Crack!

The sound capturing token shattered, the jade dust and fragments falling to the mat.

Relax, the vixen already knows and probably won’t settle charges with you. Yung smiled, but you lot don’t need to know that.

A few moments passed. The elder poured more wine into his porcelain cup before finding it inadequate and chugging the whole gourd down. Youjin Chun sighed, defeated.

“I will speak with my father. The clan treats friends fairly.”

And foes cruelly? “I’m glad to hear that.”

“State your terms.” Youjin Chun might not have seen any more reason to be polite. “Do you want us to behead Hong? Or maybe his father and grandfather too? After all, they control the resource hall. They’re probably the ones who ate up your inheritance.” The vilification in her voice would guide any other man to a sinister conclusion.

Woah there!

“I don’t need revenge,” Yung said. “What good would giving you guys a reason to purge the previous patriarch’s followers do for me?”

Youjin Chun winced again, then sighed. Even her rage was an act. “Nothing gets past you. How in the world did the clan miss a talent like this? Elder Gangkai, you must hold the talent hall to the task.”

Youjin Gangkai grunted.

The Youjin heiress turned towards Yung again. “Alas… Let’s not meander and state our terms. Please arrange a meeting with Fairy Su. Tell me what you want in return.”

Yung smiled. “Of course, I want ubiquitous rights for us madlanders.”