"What's with that look?" Yue Xiaochan scoffed. "So we run a brothel. So what? Where do you think money for a massive sect comes from? Food, clothes, alchemy pills—do they fall from the sky? Or do you expect us to rob people?"
Xue Mu paused. She had a point. In those fantasy novels he read, sects usually just had money. No one ever explained the economics. An economy based solely on killing monsters for loot was unsustainable. Real societies needed commerce.
"The brothel is just business," she continued. "The girls aren't disciples. We just manage it. Don't look at us like we're the ones selling our bodies. It's annoying."
Xue Mu raised his hands in surrender. You act like a seductress every five minutes, but you get offended when I assume you're in the trade?
But he kept his mouth shut. Arguing morality with a demoness was a losing game. Besides, he was a modern entertainment executive. He'd "managed" plenty of young idols in his time. He wasn't exactly a saint himself.
The Hundred Flowers Manor was impressive. It wasn't just a building; it was an estate. Pavilions, rock gardens, and artificial streams sprawled over acres of prime real estate. If not for the girls waving handkerchiefs from the balconies, it could pass for a princely palace.
They bypassed the main building and entered a bamboo forest in the back. A guard triggered a hidden mechanism, and the mist clearing the path parted, revealing the private quarters of the Star-Moon Sect.
A woman in her thirties, dressed in elegant silks, approached the carriage and bowed. "Greetings, Sect Master."
"Qingqing," Xue Qingqiu's voice came from the carriage. "What is the situation at the Six Fan Gate?"
"Martial Aunt Yinyue was arrested by Chief Constable Xiahou Di personally. She is in the Sky-Rank Prison, Cell Three. Security is tight. A jailbreak... has a low success rate."
"Xiahou Di," Xue Qingqiu sighed. "That madwoman. If she's involved, money won't work."
"We will find a way," Qingqing said. Her eyes drifted to Xue Mu. She paused, confused. A man? And a man with zero cultivation?
"This is Xue Mu," Yue Xiaochan interjected. "Master's newly appointed accountant."
Surname Xue. Accountant. Qingqing's eyes widened. She clearly assumed he was a relative of the Sect Master. Her demeanor shifted instantly from suspicion to respect. "Please, follow me."
Xue Mu glanced at Yue Xiaochan. The girl winked. She did that on purpose, he realized. She just upgraded my status from 'servant' to 'VIP' with one sentence.
He was led to a secluded bamboo loft. His guide was a young disciple named Meng Lan. She was around eighteen, with the kind of ethereal beauty that seemed standard for this sect—misty, mysterious, and dangerous.
"Here we are, Young Master," Meng Lan said, stopping at the door.
"Thank you, Miss Meng Lan," Xue Mu said politely.
She didn't leave. Instead, she took a step closer. A subtle, sweet fragrance drifted from her skin. She bit her lower lip, her eyes suddenly swimming with a misty, intoxicating light. She leaned in, her soft shoulder brushing against his arm—a touch that felt like an electric shock.
"The quarters are humble," she purred, her voice dropping an octave into a husky, velvet whisper. "I hope you don't find them... lacking."
Xue Mu blinked. What is happening?
A moment ago, she was a polite disciple. Now, she was a siren. The air around her seemed to warp, pulling his gaze towards the curve of her neck, the swell of her chest. A primal heat roared in his gut. It wasn't just attraction; it was a compulsion. His brain screamed at him to grab her, to tear that silk dress apart.
Charm Arts, he realized. She's using cultivation on me.
It was potent. If he were a normal man of this world, he'd be drooling on the floor. But Xue Mu came from a world where sex was sold on billboards, where he had manufactured allure for a living. He knew the mechanics of desire.
He took a deep breath, the cyan pattern on his palm tingling slightly. The fog in his mind cleared.
He stepped back, creating distance. "The room is perfect," he said, his voice calm. "And Miss Meng Lan, shouldn't the Sect's Charm Arts be reserved for enemies, not colleagues?"
Meng Lan froze. The seductive mist in her eyes vanished, replaced by shock. She stumbled back, her cheeks flushing.
"You..." She stared at him. "You have no cultivation. How did you resist?"
Xue Mu smiled dryly. "I've seen a lot."
"I... I apologize, Young Master," she stammered, regaining her composure but looking thoroughly embarrassed. "I was... testing you. I will have water sent for your bath."
She turned and fled, her movements more like a panicked girl than a martial artist.
Xue Mu watched her go, his smile fading. Testing me? Bullshit.
She had been desperate. It was a seduction born of urgency, not malice. She thought he was the Sect Master's relative, a man with power. She wanted something.
This isn't just a sect, he thought, opening the door to his new home. It's a snake pit. And I've just jumped right in.