The mortal world had never been kind to Mei Lian.
She had been born in silk, raised in perfumed halls, and given to a powerful nobleman before she could even name the stars. For years she wore the face of an obedient wife, the voice of a docile maiden, the steps of a shadow following the will of others. But deep in her heart burned a different fire. Desire, untamed and unnamed, stirred in her veins. She dreamed of freedom, of love, of pleasures whispered behind veils of moonlight.
And for that, she was betrayed.
It was not the knife in her chest she remembered most, but the laughter of her husband as he pressed it deeper. "A woman's beauty is a weapon," he had whispered. "And yours was never meant to be wielded by you."
Darkness had closed over her eyes, yet instead of the silence of death, Mei Lian awoke in fire.
Awakening
She floated in a sea of crimson mist. The air itself hummed with whispers—some mournful, some intoxicating. The mists clung to her skin like silk dipped in wine, sliding against her as though alive. Her body felt different—lighter, sharper, burning with an awareness she had never known.
When she opened her eyes, she was standing in a vast chamber carved of black jade. Red lanterns swung from invisible threads, their flames swaying without wind. A mirror of polished obsidian stood before her, and for the first time, Mei Lian saw her reflection not as a mortal woman but as something more.
Her hair, once bound in braids, now fell in cascades of black silk to her thighs. Her eyes glowed faintly with crimson light, twin embers of forbidden fire. Her lips were the color of crushed petals, her skin pale as moonlight. Draped over her shoulders was a robe of scarlet, so thin it seemed to cling like mist rather than cloth, embroidered with golden phoenixes in flight.
But it was not her beauty that startled her. It was the power pulsing under her skin—the heartbeat of something vast, ancient, and intoxicating.
She lifted her hand, and a flame of rose-colored light curled between her fingers. It pulsed with warmth, then shivered like a sigh, releasing a faint sound: a moan, soft, breathless, echoing in the chamber.
Mei Lian gasped, her hand trembling. The flame vanished, but the whisper of that sound lingered in her ears.
Then a voice rang through the chamber.
"You have been chosen. Cast aside by mortals, reborn by Heaven's rejection. The Dao of Lust is yours to claim. Desire is no longer your shame—it is your power."
The voice faded, leaving only silence and the sound of Mei Lian's own rapid breathing.
"Dao… of Lust?" she whispered.
And with that, she knew. The power thrumming in her veins was not merely magic—it was desire itself. Every glance, every touch, every sigh could feed her. Lust was no longer something she was punished for. It was her weapon.
First Temptation
The chamber's door slid open. Mei Lian turned sharply. A man entered, robes of white fluttering around him. His hair was bound with jade, his eyes clear as spring water. He carried himself like a priest, his steps careful, reverent, though his gaze flickered with something darker the moment it fell upon her.
"Mortal woman," he said, though his voice wavered. "This place is not meant for you."
Mei Lian smiled, slow and sharp. She felt the robe slip off her shoulder, not entirely by accident. "Am I not meant to be here?" she asked, her tone soft, teasing.
The priest swallowed, his throat moving visibly. His gaze darted to the curve of her neck, then quickly away.
"You are…" He faltered. "You are temptation."
"Am I?" Mei Lian stepped closer, the crimson mist curling around her bare feet. Her eyes locked onto his, unblinking. "Or am I your desire?"
His breath caught, a sharp sound that betrayed him more than words.
Something inside Mei Lian stirred, responding to the tension between them. Her hand rose, fingers grazing the air between them, and again the rose-colored flame appeared. This time it stretched, like threads of silk, twining toward him. The moment the threads touched his skin, he shuddered and let out a sound—soft, almost a moan, before biting it back.
Her lips curled.
"Don't hide it," she whispered, stepping closer still. "Every sigh, every shiver, feeds me. Do you hear, priest? I grow stronger from what you try to suppress."
The flame thickened, glowing brighter as he struggled, his breaths quickening. Each sound that escaped him echoed through the chamber, blending with the humming of the crimson mist. Mei Lian felt her power swell inside her, intoxicating, delicious.
Discovery of Power
It was not merely arousal—it was cultivation. The Dao of Lust pulled strength from intimacy, from yearning, from forbidden sounds. Each time the priest gasped, the rose flame flared brighter in her hands, filling her veins with warmth.
She leaned close, her lips brushing against his ear without touching. "Tell me, holy man… how long have you preached purity while dreaming of sin?"
His body trembled. He shut his eyes, whispering a prayer under his breath, but his lips betrayed him with another sigh. The flame between them flared like fire catching oil.
Mei Lian laughed, low and rich. "Your prayers won't save you. Not from me."
She touched his chest lightly, and the flame sank into him. He gasped—loud this time, broken, helpless. The sound rang like music in her ears, echoing through her veins as raw power.
Her robe shifted again, baring more of her pale skin. She let it, enjoying the way his eyes widened, the way his breath stuttered. Each heartbeat between them was another thread of energy flowing into her.
And then she understood.
The Dao of Lust was not about forcing—it was about drawing. Teasing. Tempting. Making the other give willingly what they tried to deny. Every moan, every whisper, every shudder freely released became her cultivation.
The First Step
By the time she drew back, the priest was on his knees, trembling, his eyes glazed. Mei Lian's body hummed with power, her skin glowing faintly with crimson light.
She looked down at him, lips curving in a victorious smile. "You wanted purity," she said softly. "Instead, you gave me your desire."
She turned, walking back to the obsidian mirror. Her reflection shone brighter now—eyes blazing like twin rubies, her robe clinging to her form as though alive.
"Dao of Lust," she whispered, testing the words on her tongue. "So this is my path. I am no man's shadow. No man's possession. I am…" She tilted her head, smiling at her reflection. "…the goddess they fear."
Behind her, the priest let out one last trembling sigh before collapsing.
The Whisper of Heaven
For a moment, silence reigned. Mei Lian basked in her newfound strength, in the heady rush of power born from something once called sin. She felt invincible, radiant.
But then, a sound cut through the chamber—the ringing of celestial bells. A chill swept over her skin.
The mist stirred violently, parting to reveal a window into the sky. Mei Lian lifted her gaze. Beyond the jade clouds, she glimpsed the shimmering outline of a palace—a palace of golden roofs and immortal guards.
The Heavenly Court.
And in its highest tower, a figure moved. A man crowned in jade, his eyes sharp as blades. The Jade Emperor.
He looked down as though he could see her through the veils of worlds.
Mei Lian smiled, slow and dangerous, as the bells tolled louder. "So… they've noticed me already."
Her laughter echoed through the crimson mist, mingling with the whispers of desire.
End of Chapter 1