Chapter 322: Seduction
She let her head fall back against the velvet cushions, staring up at the glowing runes on the ceiling.
’It’s done,’ Ji’an’s exhausted internal monologue concluded. ’The map is locked, loot drops are randomized. The circle is shrinking. Tomorrow morning, I’m going to parachute into a highly toxic, multi-biome death-match alongside three thousand heavily armed teenagers! What a pain in the ass, tsk, tsk, tsk... I just want to go to sleep...! It’s been a long time since I had some proper rest!’
But the universe, possessing a sadistic, ironic sense of comedic timing, had no intention of letting her rest.
The heavy brass doors of the Grand Astrolabe Chamber did not politely knock.
They glided open with a soft, elegant whoosh.
Instantly, the scent of the room, which had been a pungent mixture of ozone, stale sweat, magical ink, and burnt coffee, was overwritten.
A heavy, intoxicating, expensive wave of crushed orchids, midnight jasmine, and sweet sandalwood rolled into the cavern.
Ji’an cracked one exhausted eye open.
Her culinary brain immediately recognized the shift in atmosphere. ’Why does the IT department suddenly smell like the VIP lounge of a high-end cosmetic boutique?’
Stepping through the brass doors, ignoring the chaotic, shouting array of masters, was a small, elite, and terrifyingly glamorous contingent of female cultivators.
These were not the blushing, starry-eyed junior novices from the concourse.
These were the senior-most women of the Celestial Sword Sect.
The Martial Aunts.
Women who had returned from century-long seclusions or high-ranking diplomatic missions to witness the tournament.
They were incredibly powerful, breathtakingly seductive and beautiful, and possessed the unshakeable confidence of apex predators who knew exactly what they wanted.
And right now, their heavily lined, predatory eyes were locked upon the exhausted, red-robed chef slumped on the divan.
"Ah. There he is."
The voice was like warm honey being poured over crushed velvet.
Stepping to the front of the group was Elder Su, the Vice-Sovereign of the Beast Taming Peak.
She was a woman of devastating, mature allure, dressed in form-fitting robes of deep crimson and gold, carrying a delicate, steaming porcelain thermos in her manicured hands.
Right beside her was Senior Sister Mei, the undisputed genius of the Talisman Peak.
Mei was famously aloof, usually hiding behind a veil of aloof scholarly detachment, but tonight, for some reason, she wore a flowing robe of pale lilac, her dark hair pinned up with intricate jade hairpins, offering a smile that was decidedly unscholarly.
Ji’an sat up, her survival instincts overriding her exhaustion.
’Oh no,’ Ji’an thought, the blood draining from her face. ’Here comes the Ara-Ara Battalion and the Onee-san Vanguard. What are they doing in the nerd dungeon at 2:00 AM?!’
"Martial Uncle Lin," Elder Su purred, gliding across the room.
Her hips swayed with a deliberate, hypnotic rhythm that paralyzed two nearby junior array coders, causing them to crash their floating holograms into each other.
Elder Su stopped directly in front of the divan.
She didn’t stand politely at a distance.
She smoothly bent at the waist, invading Ji’an’s personal space, placing the steaming porcelain thermos on the small jade table beside the couch.
"We heard the Chief Architect was working himself to the bone," Elder Su murmured, her dark, heavily lashed eyes tracing the lines of Ji’an’s tired face, lingering deliberately on the open, slightly disheveled collar of her white inner tunic. "It simply broke our hearts to think of you toiling away in this dusty cavern without proper... sustenance."
"Ha ha, Elder Su," Ji’an stammered, frantically attempting to pull her Szechuan Red outer robes tighter across her chest. "That is... incredibly generous of you. But I am fine. The array masters and I were just finishing up—"
Before Ji’an could even attempt to stand up and establish a distance between them, Senior Sister Mei gracefully dropped onto the divan directly beside her.
The cushion dipped, pressing their thighs together.
"Nonsense, Martial Uncle Ji’an," Mei scolded softly, her tone dripping with maternal affection laced with dangerous romantic undertones. She reached out, her cool, delicate fingers gently, intimately brushing the smudge of magical ink from Ji’an’s cheek. "You give so much of yourself to the sect. You feed the novices, brew tonics for the Sovereign. You are always taking care of others... but who is taking care of you?"
Ji’an froze, her spine locking into a rigid, terrified line.
’I need an adult, need HR, and need a restraining order?’ Ji’an’s brain shrieked, executing a huge scale of reverse-gay-panic.
She was a straight woman disguised as a man!
And she was currently being flirted with by women who were technically her senior colleagues.
It was an HR nightmare wrapped in a gender-bender farce!
And the most frustrating part of the entire situation was that Ji’an knew exactly why she was being targeted.
It wasn’t anything sudden.
It was the result of months of accidental, competent, yet smooth operator behavior.
Eight months ago, Elder Su’s prized, incredibly lethal Spirit-Leopards had gone on a hunger strike, refusing all magical beast-feed.
The Beast Taming Peak had been in a panic.
Ji’an, purely annoyed by the noise of the starving leopards echoing across the mountain, had marched over with a massive wok, slapped together a seared rank-4 venison tartare with catnip glaze, and hand-fed the terrifying predators until they were purring like kittens.
Elder Su had watched the young, arrogant cook effortlessly tame her deadliest beasts with nothing but a spatula and a smirk, and her heart had skipped a beat.
And six months ago, Senior Sister Mei had suffered a horrific Qi-backlash after pulling an all-nighter crafting explosion talismans.
Ji’an had found her passed out in a corridor.
Instead of reporting her, Ji’an had scooped the older girl up, carried her to the Drunken Peak, and brewed her a specialized, soothing Ginger-Lotus hangover soup, sitting by her bedside until the fever broke, before vanishing into the night without asking for sect merit points in return.
To Ji’an, these were just basic acts of common decency.
To the women of the sect, who were used to arrogant, emotionally stunted, hyper-competitive male cultivators who only cared about sword techniques and face-slapping, Lin Ji’an was a literal, walking myth.
He was a bad boy who wore red.
He cursed at the elders.
He flipped tables.
But beneath the arrogant, untouchable exterior, he possessed a deeply tender, fiercely protective, domestic heart that nurtured the weak and healed the sick.
He was the ultimate, irresistible "I can fix him, but he will also cook me breakfast" package.
"I brought you a tonic, Junior Brother," Elder Su whispered, uncorking the porcelain thermos.
The scent that wafted out was thick, heavy, and smelled strongly of Dragon-Blood Ginseng and Tiger-Bone Marrow.
Ji’an’s lie-detector imploded.
’That is not a restorative soup!’ Ji’an panicked, staring at the dark liquid. ’That’s a frigging high-grade, premium Yang-boosting elixir! It’s ancient, immortal Viagra! She is trying to supercharge my male vitality! If I drink that, my meridians are going to reject it, and I will likely combust!’
"I couldn’t possibly," Ji’an choked out, pressing herself deeper into the corner of the divan, desperately trying to escape from Senior Sister Mei’s lingering fingers on her shoulder. "My... my Yang energy is already too robust tonight! If I consume that, I will likely suffer a nosebleed!"
"A robust Yang is nothing to be ashamed of, little brother," another female disciple giggled from the periphery of the group, fluttering a silk fan. "In fact, it is highly... desirable in the survival zone."
"Martial Uncle Ji’an," Senior Sister Mei murmured, leaning closer, the scent of jasmine suffocating Ji’an’s senses. "Tomorrow is going to be incredibly dangerous. The foreign contingents are ruthless. We just want to ensure that our favorite Martial Uncle is... properly relaxed before he steps into the crucible. Perhaps you require a specialized, tension-relieving meridian massage?"
Mei’s hands drifted lower, moving from Ji’an’s shoulder toward her chest.
’AHH! DO NOT TOUCH ME, YOU FEMALE PERVERTS!’ Ji’an’s internal alarms blared with the force of a nuclear meltdown. ’IF SHE TOUCHES ME LIKE THAT, THERE ARE CHANCES THAT MY COVER MIGHT GET BLOWN! THE ENTIRE SECT WILL KNOW I AM A WOMAN! I WILL BE EXECUTED FOR DECEIVING THE ELDERS!’
Ji’an squeezed her eyes shut, crossing her arms tightly over her chest in a desperate, defensive X, preparing to shove the Senior Sister away and make a mad dash for the heavy brass doors.
But before her hands could even move, the ambient atmosphere of the Grand Astrolabe Chamber underwent an unprecedented thermodynamic shift.
The heavy, stifling, perfume-laden air of the alcove didn’t just grow cold; it ceased to possess thermal energy entirely.
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