The dawn that broke over the Zhao estate was crisp and clear, a clean slate. But within the walls of the matriarch's chambers, the air was thick with the lingering scent of sex and the unspoken complexities of our new alliance. I lay in the obsidian bed, watching as Zhao Lihua, already dressed in her severe, commanding robes, stood before a large schematic of the mountain I had drawn for her. She was all business, the passionate, demanding lover of the night already locked away behind the iron walls of her ambition.
"The plans for the concrete production are sound," she stated without turning around. "I've had my alchemists review the formulas. They are… unconventional, but the theory is flawless. We will begin construction of a prototype kiln today. And I've already approved the budget for your new blast furnace. You will have whatever you need."
"Excellent," I said, stretching languidly in her bed, a deliberate act of casual possession. "And the branding for the new ventures? I assume you'll want the 'Zhao' name front and center on everything. 'Zhao Celestial Textiles', 'Zhao Grand Theaters'. It has a certain… monolithic ring to it."
I was baiting her, testing the limits of the lie I had fed her in the forge. I had called her my one true goddess, but my actions since had proven otherwise.
She turned from the schematic, her eyes sharp and analytical. "No," she said, her voice firm. "That would be a strategic error. To brand everything under one name makes us a single, large target. It consolidates all public sentiment, good and bad, onto our family. It is better to diversify the portfolio. To create the illusion of a thriving, competitive marketplace that we, in fact, control from the shadows."
I sat up, genuinely impressed. Her mind was a razor. I had thought my lie about her being the 'singularity' was a masterpiece of manipulation, but she had just demonstrated that she didn't even need it. Her ambition was so vast, so pragmatic, that she had independently arrived at the exact conclusion that served my own secret purpose. She didn't want to be the only sun in the sky; she wanted to own the entire galaxy and have everyone think it was a natural phenomenon.
"The new industries will be established as independent entities," she continued, pacing before the bed like a general planning a campaign. "They can be 'sponsored by' or 'in partnership with' the Zhao Consortium, a subtle mark of our patronage, but they must have their own identities. It mitigates risk and allows for a more nuanced market penetration."
"A brilliant strategy, partner," I said, and for the first time, the compliment was entirely sincere. "I already have names in mind. For the fashion house… 'Aria'. It's a word from my homeland for a solo, expressive melody. It speaks of individuality, of a single voice rising above the chorus."
"Aria," she tested the word. "I approve. And for the entertainment guild?"
"'Fantasia'," I replied. "The creation of worlds from pure imagination. It promises magic, wonder. It sells the dream, not just the ticket."
She gave a curt nod, the business concluded. But then a flicker of the previous night's possessiveness returned to her eyes. "These independent queens of yours… Aria and Fantasia… they will require significant capital investment. An investment that comes from my vaults. Do not forget who owns the chessboard, Lu Bing, even if you are designing the new pieces."
"I would never dream of it," I purred, my mind already a thousand miles away, plotting. "Every piece serves the will of the players."
Our conversation was interrupted by a soft knock. It was Chixi. She entered, bowed to Zhao Lihua, but her report was for me. "Master Lu. The Lu Clan caravan has arrived with your requested research materials and personal effects. They await your inspection in the main courtyard." She paused, her expression unreadable. "There is also a letter. From the Lady Lu Ren."
The name dropped into the room like a shard of ice. Zhao Lihua's eyes narrowed. The slave seal. My secret chain. The one piece of leverage she didn't have on me, and the one piece I had conveniently omitted from our partnership discussions.
"It seems my past is calling," I said with a casual smile, swinging my legs out of her bed with a distinct lack of modesty. "If you'll excuse me, partner, I have correspondence to attend to."
I walked out, leaving the two most powerful women in Ironwood City in a room thick with sudden, unspoken suspicion. The game was expanding, the board growing more complex with every move.
In the courtyard, a small contingent of Lu Clan guards stood by a carriage laden with trunks. Chixi handed me a sealed scroll bearing Lu Ren's elegant, severe calligraphy. I broke the seal. The message was simple and chilling.
'Your pet project in the north is amusing. Do not forget where your collar is held. I trust my guard dog is keeping you well-exercised. I expect a full report, and a tribute worthy of your mistress, upon your return. Do not be tardy.'
It was a stark reminder. I was a man with two masters, both of whom believed they held my leash. It was an untenable, and therefore thrilling, position.
"Trouble?" Chixi asked, her voice low.
"Merely a status report for my other employer," I said with a wry smile, burning the letter with a flicker of Qi. "She sends her regards."
Chixi's expression was a mask of professional duty, but I could see the conflict in her eyes. She was Lu Ren's woman, tasked with monitoring me, but she was also witnessing my methods firsthand. She had seen me defeat a monster with physics and dismantle a family with psychology. Her loyalties were being stressed, stretched thin between the master she knew and the devil she was coming to understand.
"What are your orders for the day, Master?" she asked, her tone clipped and formal.
"Today, Chixi," I said, "we continue the education of Fengue. And for that, we are going to the finest brothel in Ironwood City."
If she was surprised, she didn't show it. She simply nodded. "As you command."
The Crimson Lantern Pavilion was not the sordid den of vice one might expect. It was an elegant, three-story building in the city's pleasure district, all carved wood, silk lanterns, and the faint, sweet scent of incense and expensive perfume. The sounds from within were not of cheap debauchery, but of refined music, light laughter, and the clinking of wine glasses. It was a place of high-class, transactional pleasure.
I arrived with Fengue and Chixi in tow. Fengue was pale, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. This was a deliberate, calculated part of her therapy. To heal her idealized, tragic view of love, she needed to confront its most commercial, carnal counterpart. She needed to see that sex and intimacy were commodities, skills, professions.
"We are here for market research," I told her gently as we stood outside. "I need you to observe. Listen to the music. Watch how the women here interact with their clients. They are not victims. They are professionals. They are entertainers, therapists, and businesswomen. Learn from them."
We were greeted at the door not by a brutish guard, but by an elegant, middle-aged woman whose smile was as sharp as it was welcoming. This was Madam Xue, the proprietor of the Crimson Lantern. She was not a cultivator, but the sheer force of her personality, the shrewd intelligence in her eyes, told me she was a powerhouse in her own right.
"Master Lu," she said with a respectful bow, her eyes taking in my fine clothes, Chixi's stoic presence, and Fengue's nervous beauty. "An unexpected honor. Your name is on everyone's lips today. Please, come in. Your party is my guest."
She led us to a discreet, private booth overlooking the main hall. From here, we could see everything. The hall was filled with wealthy merchants and off-duty cultivators, drinking and laughing with beautiful women in various states of elegant undress. A trio of female musicians played a haunting melody on a zither, flute, and pipa. The atmosphere was one of relaxed, sophisticated indulgence.
"What is it you seek at my humble establishment, Master Lu?" Madam Xue asked, pouring us a fragrant, golden tea. "A particular companion? A particular vintage of wine?"
"I seek talent, Madam Xue," I said, getting straight to the point. "My new venture, the Fantasia Guild, will require performers. Singers, dancers, musicians. I have been told you have the finest in the city."
Her eyes lit up with a shrewd, commercial gleam. "Indeed. My girls are not just beautiful; they are artists. But their contracts are exclusive."
"Contracts can be renegotiated," I countered smoothly. "I am not here to poach your talent, Madam. I am here to offer them an alternative. A new stage. A chance to become not just a courtesan known in one city, but a star known throughout the empire. The work is different, but the compensation will be… significantly greater."
We were speaking the language of business, two professionals negotiating over human assets. Fengue watched us, her expression a mixture of disgust and fascination.
As we spoke, my eyes scanned the room. My philosophy on prostitutes was simple. I had no moral objection to the profession, but I found the act of paying for feigned pleasure to be a hollow, pathetic transaction. I was only interested in women who genuinely, truly enjoyed the carnal act, who reveled in their sexuality and saw it as a source of power and pleasure, not just a source of income. They were rare, but they existed.
Suddenly, a commotion near the entrance drew our attention. A drunken, stumbling figure was being half-supported, half-restrained by two of the pavilion's guards. It was Zhao Wei. His fine robes were stained with wine, his hair was a mess, and his face was a blotchy mask of self-pity and impotent rage. He was here to drown his sorrows in the most predictable way possible.
"Let me go!" he slurred, shoving a guard away. "I have money! I want the best girl you have! I want… I want Peony!"
Madam Xue sighed, a flicker of annoyance crossing her face. "The young master is a frequent, if troublesome, patron. Peony is our most requested artist."
An idea, a perfect, insidious, and beautifully cruel idea, began to form in my mind. The ultimate cucking was not about stealing a woman. It was about making the man offer her to you himself.
"Madam Xue," I said, my voice low and conspiratorial. "I have a proposition. A game, if you will. I wish to hire your Peony for the night. But she will not be for me. She will be a gift, from me, to Young Master Wei. A gesture of… reconciliation."
Madam Xue's eyebrows shot up. "A generous, if unusual, gesture."
"There are conditions," I continued. "I wish to speak with Peony first. Privately. And her task for the night will not be just to pleasure him. It will be to… educate him."
Her shrewd eyes glittered with understanding. She saw the game I was playing, and it clearly amused her. "It will be expensive. Her time is valued in the hundreds of gold coins."
"I will pay her a thousand," I said without blinking. "And if she performs her duties to my satisfaction, I will offer her the lead singer position in my first Fantasia Guild band, with a salary that will make her current earnings look like a beggar's pittance."
Her smile widened. "Consider it done, Master Lu."
She led me to a private room upstairs. Peony was even more beautiful up close. She was young, with a heart-shaped face and eyes that held a surprising depth and intelligence. She moved with the grace of a dancer, her body a perfect, hourglass figure barely contained by her silk robes.
"Peony," Madam Xue said, "this is Master Lu Bing. He has a special request for you tonight. Listen to him carefully. Your future may depend on it." The madam left, closing the door behind her.
Peony looked at me, her gaze professional and curious. "How may this one serve you, Master Lu?"
"You can begin by telling me something, Peony," I said, sitting opposite her. "Do you enjoy your work? Not the money, not the status. The act itself. The men. The pleasure. Does it bring you joy?"
She was taken aback by the direct, personal question. She studied me for a long moment, then a slow, genuine smile touched her lips. "Some nights are work, Master Lu. But some nights… some nights are a pleasure. I find the dance of seduction, the exploration of another's desires, to be a fascinating art form."
"Excellent," I said. "Then you are perfect for this role."
I laid out my plan. "Tonight, you will be with Zhao Wei. You will give him the night of his life. You will be attentive, passionate, everything he has ever dreamed of. You will let him vent his frustrations, you will soothe his wounded pride. But, throughout the night, you will do one other thing. You will talk about me."
Her intelligent eyes widened.
"You will praise me," I instructed. "You will tell him how you have heard tales of my brilliance, my generosity. When he complains about me, you will gently defend me, suggesting he has misunderstood my intentions. When he boasts, you will subtly compare his actions to my own, always finding me the more impressive figure. You will not be obvious. You will be a whisper in his ear, a seed planted in his drunken, vulnerable mind. You will make him associate the greatest pleasure he has ever known with the idea that I, his hated rival, am a man of incredible power and magnanimity. You will make him begin to see me not as an enemy, but as an aspirational figure. By the end of the night, you will have him convinced that my 'gift' of you to him was an act of profound, almost brotherly kindness. Can you do that?"
Peony stared at me, her professional smile gone, replaced by an expression of pure, unadulterated awe at the sheer psychological cruelty of my plan. A slow, wicked grin spread across her face.
"Master Lu," she purred, her voice dropping to a husky, conspiratorial whisper. "For a starring role in your 'Fantasia Guild'? I will make that boy believe you are the god of love himself. He will wake up tomorrow wanting to build a temple in your name."
"Good girl," I said, a thrill of villainous satisfaction coursing through me. I stood to leave. "I will be waiting for your report in the morning."
As I walked out, I felt the System interface flicker in my vision, a rare, unprompted update.
[New Cuckoldry Sub-Routine Activated: 'The Benevolent Bull Protocol']
[Objective: Manipulate the Target (Zhao Wei) into a state of willing submission and admiration for the Alpha (User), associating the Alpha with all forms of pleasure and security.]
[Current Progress: 1%]
I returned to my booth. Fengue was watching the scene below, her expression thoughtful and analytical. She had seen Zhao Wei's pathetic display. She had seen me orchestrate this entire event from the shadows.
"You're not just trying to humiliate him, are you?" she asked, her voice quiet. "You're trying to… reprogram him."
"Pride is a faulty operating system," I said, taking a sip of tea. "It's prone to crashing. I'm simply offering him a software update. It's a long, slow process. But by the time I am done, he will be a much more stable, and useful, piece of code."
She looked at me, at the man who had killed her lover, and was now performing a psychological vivisection on her new suitor. The look in her eyes was no longer hate. It was a complex, frightening, and deeply compelling mixture of fear and fascination. The experiment was proceeding perfectly.