The hours dragged on. The carriage rattled endlessly through the town's winding streets, the horses weary and the wheels groaning from the constant turns. Xiu Mei had deliberately driven them in circles, refusing to stop until she secured a place that felt safe.
But the truth was far simpler.
Their shifts at the reins became shifts beside Shi Yang. First Xiu Mei, then Han Jie, each taking her "turn" under the cover of night, competing not with blades or cultivation techniques—but with their bodies.
Shi Yang, caught between them, could only surrender. Their rivalry fueled them, each refusing to be outdone, each determined to leave the other in the shadow of jealousy. His strength, however, was the one being drained in the process.
By the third day, the guards patrolling the district had had enough.
"If you don't settle in an inn or pavilion by tonight," one barked at the carriage window, "we'll throw you out of the town gates ourselves."
The threat broke their contest. Reluctantly, Xiu Mei pulled the horses to a final halt before a quiet pavilion near the market square.
Inside, Shi Yang stretched slowly, vertebrae cracking as he arched his back. His eyes were rimmed with exhaustion, his skin pale, lips dry.
I've fought specters, faced illusions, crossed rivers of blood… but this?
He winced, rolling his shoulders.
Two women. Two rivals. Both relentless in their newfound war over him.
He exhaled, long and slow. His spirit sea might have been intact, but his body had been sucked dry by girls who had only just begun their rivalry.
And as he glanced between them—their eyes still sharp, their smiles falsely sweet, their rivalry far from finished—Shi Yang realized with no small amount of dread:
This was only the beginning.
—
The sun shone bright, its light cascading off the tilted rooftops. The streets bustled with life—practitioners and merchants alike moved through the roads, chatting with comrades and acquaintances as they passed beneath the wide archway of the Floating Dreamers Pavilion.
A grand structure of seven towering floors, it stood like a palace above the district, said to house over three hundred cultivators at once.
"This should do as a temporary residence," Xiu Mei said, her tone carrying a newfound, distinctly womanly poise.
Her gaze swept across the crowd as she adjusted her hanfu, tugging the fabric to better conceal her chest. Then she turned back, smiling sweetly. "What are you waiting for, Uncle Shi? It's time we book a room quickly so we can find somewhere to eat."
"It's time for you to book a room for yourself, Brother Xiu Mei. I'll stay with Brother Shi, as that's how it's supposed to be," Han Jie interjected, her voice sharp, her stance unyielding. "Frankly, I still find it difficult to believe you'd share such a relationship with someone you once called your uncle."
"If it's so difficult to understand, why don't you leave?" Xiu Mei shot back, her words laced with venom. She turned to Shi Yang, her expression softening as though to claim him in that moment. "Right, Uncle Shi?"
But Shi Yang only turned his head away, too weary for their constant sparring.
"How about we each take our own separate rooms," he said at last, his voice frayed with fatigue. "You girls should have accumulated quite a bit of unrefined Qi that still needs stabilizing." A cough wracked his chest, muffled into his fist.
"I also feel I'm infinitely closer to a breakthrough," he added, forcing a wry smile, framing it as though he needed the solitude to cultivate. In truth, he was at his limits—one more night caught between them might not lead to enlightenment, but to ascending through sheer exhaustion…
The three of them stepped into the Floating Dreamers Pavilion, where the air was heavy with sandalwood incense and laughter spilled from silk-draped alcoves. Courtesans moved like painted blossoms between patrons, their sleeves fluttering as music drifted down from the higher floors.
Xiu Mei and Han Jie went ahead to the registration counter, each speaking smoothly under their chosen aliases. Their tones were cold, their glares clashing in the polished bronze mirror behind the desk, but neither dared slip in front of the other.
Shi Yang, still dragging his tired body behind them, stepped forward last. He opened his mouth to offer some hastily conjured name—only for the person behind the counter to lean forward with a sly smile.
"Yin Shi Yang, right?" the host said, his voice dripping with perfumed sweetness. His cheeks were rouged, lips tinted, and his silk robes shimmered faintly with powder. "The whole of Yuefen Crossing knows your name. They say you're the fairest courtesan in town—" his eyes glinted mischievously, "with no rival in beauty."
The man tilted his head, letting the compliment linger. Then, with a knowing smirk, he leaned closer across the counter, lowering his voice.
"Your room will be on me tonight. No charge," he said, his perfume wafting faintly between them. "All I want in return is an invitation when you're back in business."
His painted lips curved wider, his voice dropping to a sultry whisper. "And I wouldn't mind being the top or the bottom—if it was with someone who can switch from being irresistibly beautiful, and handsomely charming like you."
The brazenness of it hung in the air like a spark ready to ignite.
Xiu Mei nearly choked on her own laughter, coughing into her sleeve as her shoulders shook. Han Jie's expression, however, turned stone cold, her lip curling with barely contained disgust.
Shi Yang froze, a vein twitching at his temple as the two women's reactions only deepened the absurd humiliation.
He accepted the room keys with clear reluctance—yet his mother's voice echoed in the back of his mind: never turn down a free offer little Yang. With a stiff nod, he pocketed them, and the three moved away from the counter.
"It seems you're quite famous," Xiu Mei said with a sly smile, nudging him lightly. "Despite never having officially set foot in Yuefen."
"And whose fault is that?" Shi Yang shot back. "We've been riding around town for three days and three nights. Half the city probably thinks I'm some high-ranking prostitute, with the way you two kept taking turns."
Xiu Mei only laughed louder, her eyes dancing. "Would you like me to be on top next time~?" she teased.
Shi Yang's face darkened immediately, and with a sharp huff he stormed off ahead. Xiu Mei's laughter caught in her throat, eyes widening at how far she'd pushed him, before she hurried after.
And just like that, another tale was born within the Dreamers Pavilion: how the courtesan named Yin Shi Yang—even without his full make-up—possessed the charm to sway not only the pavilion's owner, but even tempt a rogue cultivator into desperate pursuit, the moment he crossed its threshold.