Shi Yang looked at her and fell into thought. He didn't have any particular place he wanted to go.
"Hmm, I just wanted to explore the city. Since the tournament's been announced, there might be a surge in the market," he said while adjusting his robes. "So I'll probably look for some items and gauge what ingredients are floating around."
"It seems like you're quite eager to start collecting ingredients," she teased, rising from the bed with the sheets draped around her. Her delicate feet touched the cold floor as she moved toward him.
Han Jie swayed with an almost fairy-like grace. "Well, since you're leaving, let me tag along," she said, twirling lightly before snatching up her clothes from the floor. "Just give me a moment to freshen up."
She lifted one finger to her chin and threw him a playful wink over her shoulder.
Shi Yang couldn't help but smile. "Don't keep me waiting too long," he replied.
Han Jie's lips curved as she looked back. "It'll only take five minutes."
She left him those words before slipping into the adjoining washroom, where the sound of water soon filled the air.
Shi Yang lingered by the window, pulling his robe straight, his mind half on the bustling city beyond and half on the woman who seemed to treat teasing him as casually as breathing.
When she returned, droplets still clinging to her dark hair, she was radiant. Dressed in her scant outfit, she smiled faintly. "Before we head out… let's stop at my place. I can't exactly walk around the market in this, can I?"
Shi Yang chuckled. "Fair point. Lead the way."
The streets were already alive with the hum of merchants and wandering cultivators, the anticipation of the upcoming tournament hanging over the city like a festival lantern. But Han Jie guided him away from the crowded thoroughfare, through a quieter row of residences.
They stopped at a modest rental courtyard, its outer walls unassuming but kept in neat order. She unlocked the door with a flick of her wrist and gestured him inside.
Shi Yang stepped in—and immediately noticed the difference. Silk drapes hung from the ceiling, embroidered carpets softened the floor, and against the far wall stood a rack lined with outfits. They were not the usual robes of cultivators or casual city dwellers. Most were thin, flowing costumes: silks that glimmered, veils meant to catch candlelight, and skirts meant to flutter at the smallest movement. Dancer's attire.
Han Jie caught his raised brow, studying his reaction. "Surprised?"
"More like… intriguing," Shi Yang replied, half-laughing.
She tilted her head, then walked toward the rack, her fingers gliding across the fabrics. "Since you're here, do you want a quick show?"
Before he could answer, she unhooked her top and let it slip from her chest. Then she grabbed another one and put it on, her fingertips working to put its black fabric in place.
"Why would I ever say no," he murmured, his gaze roaming over her body.
"Don't stare too hard," she whispered, walking forward and taking off the white top that slipped toward her abdomen. Her fingers grabbed it, pulling the fabric over her head, then covered his eyes with it.
Is this a strip tease? Shi Yang thought, pulling the fragrant silk covering his eyelids off. Only for another piece of clothing to be thrown his way, he reached out and grabbed it—
Shi Yang lifted the fabric in his hands, feeling its warmth still clinging to her skin. Only when he glanced down did he realize it wasn't just any scrap of clothing—it was her skirt.
He blinked, then lifted his gaze, and there she was.
Han Jie stood in the center of the room, now dressed in a flowing black set that seemed woven from shadows and starlight. Golden chains draped over her hips and thighs, bangles and anklets dangling as though each breath of hers was meant to sing. She had removed her veil, her lips curling into a smile both dangerous and playful, as if unveiling more than her face.
"There's a seat behind you," she said softly, her voice dripping like honey.
Shi Yang's hand felt behind him, brushing the carved wood of a chair he hadn't noticed before. He sat slowly, his eyes locked on her as she began to move.
Her dance wasn't frantic nor hurried. Each step was measured, each sway deliberate, her body weaving through the air like a calligrapher's brush across silk. The black silk clung to her, reflecting the light in faint ripples, every twist of her waist and shift of her shoulders whispering secrets he was not sure he deserved to hear.
She turned, golden ornaments chiming, her hair glimmering. When she faced him again, her arms rose, wrists curving with almost divine poise, and she seemed to float closer—half mortal, half spirit.
Shi Yang's breath deepened without him noticing, his dantian faintly stirred. He could feel the rhythm of her qi with every movement, a quiet pull that coaxed his own energy to stir and dance in harmony. This wasn't simply a performance—it was cultivation.
His lips quirked into a faint smile. A woman who can turn a strip of silk into a cultivation technique… no wonder she's dangerous.
Han Jie leaned forward, just enough for her shadow to drape over his knees. Her eyes, lined with crimson powder—red as sunset through wine—locked onto his.
"Well?" she asked, her tone lilting, teasing, yet heavy with expectation. "Do you approve, Brother Shi?"
He clapped in applause. "You didn't tell me you were a dancer in your spare time," he said, unsure how to feel about the revelation. Was she an actual performer?
The question unspooled other thoughts he'd been ignoring. In this world, conventional cultivation was dying—only dual cultivation and a few practical methods moved one forward. That was the logic of the age, and Han Jie was clearly not weak.
Had she been using her looks to fund herself? he wondered, a bitter taste in his mouth as he studied her famine features. Her dance had been professional—she moved like someone who'd done it countless times.
It was likely she'd exploited her body for cultivation in this world. That thought carried weight; even his predecessor had once been involved with her. A sudden shadow fell over him. Part of him felt jealous.
Han Jie noticed the shift but said nothing. She walked up and settled into his lap. "Does it hurt?" she asked.
"What?" he asked, caught off-guard.
"You know what I mean," she said, eyes cast down. "I'm not the most emotionally sensitive person… but did bringing you here hurt you?"
He wanted to answer with a stiff, proud no. Instead, his heart opened with a sharp ache. "Yes… yes, it did," he admitted, leaning his forehead against hers. "But I can—"
The words stuck in his throat.
Han Jie looked up at him and kissed him. He kissed her back. She pulled away slightly, voice small and earnest. "If you want to break this off, I'll understand."
"I'll disappear and you can keep walking forward," she added. "I know most people in this era don't want to commit. Yet I forced this on you as a deal."
"I'm sorry…" she whispered.
He closed his eyes. "No—I'm sorry," he said, gripping her shoulders. "I missed out on half your life and I'm salty about that."
"But I'm not going to lose you now that I have you."
He softened his touch, slid his hands down to her thighs, and lifted her a little higher. "I'm a possessive person," he said, looking up at her with fierce certainty. "I won't leave you because of a few hundred years."
Han Jie's palms pressed against his shoulders as she stared down into his determined eyes. Her body fluttered with nervous butterflies.