"So when is this concert?" I asked.
Christine whipped around to face me, her expression shifting to pure indignation. "It's been all over her videos for the last few months, Ben! It starts early next month, in only a week from now! Jeez, if you're going to be her fan and date her, you need to know these kinds of things." She gave me the poutiest face she could manage, her lower lip jutting out dramatically.
I shot my sister an exasperated look before shaking my head. "Christine..."
Emma's face turned bright red, her hands flying up in a flustered gesture. "Christine!" She fumbled for words, her composure from the stage completely evaporating.
"What? You exchanged contact information," Christine said innocently, though the mischievous glint in her eyes betrayed her intentions. "That's basically dating in the cultivation world, right?"
"That is absolutely not how that works," I said flatly.
Emma covered her face with both hands, her ears visibly burning. Rachel made a sound from behind the counter that might have been a suppressed laugh.
I cleared my throat, desperately steering the conversation back on track. "Next week, huh? That works for me. Are you going to handle our plane tickets?"
Emma lowered her hands, clearly grateful for the subject change. Her professional demeanor reassembled itself piece by piece as she nodded. "Yes, my company will cover everything. The flight, the hotel accommodations, food expenses, all of it. I'll have my manager send you both the details once we finalize the arrangements."
"The concert is going to be so great," Christine gushed, bouncing on her toes again. "I seriously can't wait!" She paused mid bounce, her eyes going wide. "Oh wait. Do we get VIP tickets to your concert?"
"What are you thinking?" I answered back. "We're the bodyguards, so we'll probably be assigned to guard an area, and it's likely to be stationed somewhere outside the venue guarding from people sneaking inside."
"WHAT?" Christine's voice rose several octaves. She grabbed Emma's arm with both hands, her expression shifting to pure desperation. "Emma, you HAVE to station us backstage right next to you! Promise me!"
Emma blinked, caught off guard by the sudden assault. "I... well..."
"Please?" Christine deployed her most effective weapon, widening her eyes to maximum puppy dog effect. "We're supposed to be your personal bodyguards, right? That means we should be close to you at all times. For safety reasons. Very important safety reasons."
"She makes a valid point," Rachel offered from the counter, clearly enjoying the show.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Christine, you can't just manipulate someone into..."
"It's fine," Emma interrupted, a small smile breaking through her embarrassment. "Actually, having you both backstage would make the most sense. I was planning to request personal security anyway, not perimeter guards. My company already has venue security handled." She looked between us. "I'd feel safer with people I know watching my back during the performance."
Christine released Emma's arm to pump both fists in the air. "Yes! Backstage passes! This is going to be amazing!"
---
Before I knew it, a week had gone by and I found myself boarding a plane with Emma, Christine, and several of Emma's employees. The most notable among them was Janice, Emma's manager, a woman in her mid forties with severe features that seemed permanently arranged into an expression of disapproval. Her sharp gray suit matched her sharper demeanor, and the way she barked orders at the airport staff made me wince. Everything about her screamed control freak, from the way she clutched her tablet like a weapon to the condescending tone she used when addressing anyone she deemed beneath her station.
I could sense she had started cultivating, but her progress was pitiful. Body Tempering second layer after all this time? With resources readily available in the Eastern Region, her lack of advancement spoke volumes about either her dedication or her aptitude. Probably both.
The majority of the venue staff had already arrived at the location days ago to handle setup. As Emma's personal guards, Christine and I only needed to follow where Emma went, which made the logistics considerably simpler.
I had managed to break through to Meridian Opening second layer before this trip. Four more primary meridians carved open, the vital energy flowing through my body with nearly double the intensity of before. The surge of power was intoxicating. It was highly likely I was the strongest man on Earth right now, though I kept that thought to myself.
We settled into our seats in the first class cabin, the spacious accommodations drawing an excited gasp from Christine.
"This is amazing!" She stretched her legs out, testing the limits of the legroom. "Is this what it's like being a superstar? I could get used to this."
Emma's face turned pink. "I'm not quite a superstar. Just a YouTube personality, really."
"With millions of subscribers and sold out concerts," I pointed out.
My seat was right next to Emma, with Christine seated on my other side. The flight attendants went through their safety demonstrations while Janice continued typing furiously on her tablet three rows up, occasionally shooting disapproving glances back at us.
Soon the excitement and talking died down. The gentle hum of the engines and the comfortable seats worked their magic. One by one, everyone drifted off to sleep.
Ding.
The announcement bell pulled me back into awareness. The pilot's voice crackled through the speakers, notifying us that we were beginning our descent into Hong Kong. As consciousness returned, I became acutely aware of the weight on both my shoulders. Christine had slumped against my left side, a small trail of drool connecting her mouth to my shirt. Emma had done the same on my right, her breathing soft and even.
Christine stirred first, blinking groggily. She wiped the drool from her face with the back of her hand, completely unbothered. "Are we there yet?"
"Landing now," I confirmed.
Emma woke more slowly, her eyes fluttering open. The moment she registered her position, her entire body went rigid. She jerked upright, her face cycling through several shades of red as she noticed the wet spot on my shoulder.
"I'm so sorry!" She grabbed napkins from the seat pocket, frantically dabbing at the drool stain. "I didn't mean to... I never... oh god, this is so embarrassing."
"It's fine," I assured her, though her mortification only seemed to intensify.
Christine snorted. "You should see yourself right now, Emma. Your face is redder than your stage lights."
"See, I drool on him all the time, he doesn't care," Christine said cheerfully, pointing at the matching wet spot on her side of my shoulder.
I wouldn't exactly say I didn't care, but she was my baby sister. What was I supposed to do, kick her off mid flight?
Emma's mortification somehow managed to deepen further. She buried her face in her hands, making a sound somewhere between a groan and a whimper.
The plane touched down smoothly, the wheels kissing the runway with barely a jolt. We gathered our things and filed out into the airport lobby, joining the stream of travelers flowing through the terminal.
Although modern China incorporated plenty of English words into their signage, I found myself grateful I'd spent the last week drilling the Chinese language into my brain. With my enhanced cultivation, learning had been almost absurdly easy. The characters that would have taken years to memorize simply stuck after a single viewing. The tonal complexities that tripped up most Western learners felt intuitive, natural. I now spoke fluent Chinese as if I'd grown up with it.
Christine sidled up next to me, glancing around at the unfamiliar airport. "Brother, where do we go?"
I scanned the overhead signs, reading the Chinese characters as easily as English. "Baggage claim is this way." I gestured toward the left corridor and the group fell in behind me.
The translator Emma's company had hired, a nervous looking young man named David, seemed almost disappointed he wasn't needed yet. He kept glancing at me with confusion every time I read a sign without hesitation.
The baggage carousel rumbled to life as we arrived, suitcases beginning their endless circle. Emma's staff members stepped forward to claim their luggage, hefting bags and equipment cases with varying degrees of effort. Janice supervised with her usual scowl, checking items off on her tablet.
Christine, Emma, and I stood off to the side, our hands conspicuously empty. All our belongings rested safely in the storage rings on our fingers. The convenience still felt surreal, like carrying an entire closet in a piece of jewelry.
A staff member waited for us outside the baggage claim area, holding a sign with Emma's name printed in both English and Chinese. He led us to a white minivan, the kind with enough seats to accommodate our entire group. The driver navigated through Beijing's evening traffic with practiced ease, weaving between cars and buses while I translated occasional road signs for Christine's benefit.
The hotel rose before us like a glass and steel monument, its modern architecture gleaming under the city lights. We filed through the lobby, drawing a few curious stares from other guests who recognized Emma despite her attempt at disguising herself with sunglasses and a baseball cap.
The elevator climbed smoothly to the top floor. When the doors opened, we stepped directly into the penthouse suite's entrance hall.
"Whoa," Christine breathed.
The suite sprawled out before us, easily larger than our parents' entire house. Floor to ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of Beijing's skyline. Multiple bedrooms branched off from a central living area that could have hosted a small party.
"Miss Sullivan, you and your guests will occupy this suite," the hotel manager explained in accented English. "Your staff has rooms on the floor below."
Janice's expression soured further. "I should be up here with Miss Sullivan for immediate access."
"The penthouse only has four bedrooms," the manager replied diplomatically.
"What about him?" Janice's sharp voice cut through the moment, her finger stabbing in my direction. "We can't have a male sleeping in the same suite with Emma."
She gave me a rather disapproving look, the kind that suggested I was already guilty of some unspoken crime.
I opened my mouth to agree, ready to volunteer for the floor below. It made sense from a propriety standpoint, and I didn't want to cause problems.
"No way!" Christine jumped in before I could get a word out. "His cultivation is the highest among all of us. As Emma's guard, we can't have him too far. What if an assassin sneaks into the suite?"
Before anyone could respond, Christine grabbed my arm and yanked me forward. The door to the suite closed behind us with a decisive click, cutting off whatever protest Janice had been formulating.
As soon as we crossed the threshold, Christine completely forgot about me. She released my arm and darted deeper into the suite, her excited squeals echoing off the high ceilings.
"Oh my god, look at this view! Ben, Emma, you can see the entire city from here!" She pressed her face against the floor to ceiling windows. "And there's a full bar! With actual crystal glasses! And this couch is so soft!"
I stood near the entrance, watching my sister bounce from discovery to discovery like an overstimulated puppy. Emma had stopped beside me, equally transfixed by Christine's enthusiasm.
She glanced at me. I looked back at her. We both burst out laughing.
The sound felt good, natural. Some of the tension from the flight and Janice's constant disapproval melted away.
Several hours later, after exploring every corner of the suite and ordering room service that Christine declared "the best food ever," we prepared for bed. I changed in my designated room, pulling on comfortable sleep pants and a t-shirt.
When I emerged, both Christine and Emma were coming out of the bathroom. Christine wore her typical oversized sleep shirt and shorts. Emma, however...
Oh damn.
The thin silk nightgown she wore might as well have been painted on. The delicate fabric molded perfectly to every curve, clinging to her petite frame in ways that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. The material was so sheer I could make out the shadow of her skin beneath, the outline of her figure displayed with stunning clarity.
Emma caught me staring. Her face erupted into crimson, spreading from her cheeks down her neck. Her arms flew up to cover her chest, where the absence of any bra became painfully obvious as she tried to hide herself.
She coughed. "Sorry," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm used to wearing my pajamas for bed. Alone. In my own room. Where no one can see me."
She bolted for her bedroom, practically sprinting across the suite. Christine followed with a knowing grin, disappearing through the doorway without a backward glance.
I wandered into my own room like a zombie, my brain still processing what I'd just witnessed. The bed was massive, easily king-sized, with sheets that felt like clouds when I slipped between them. The rhythmic patter of rain against the window started moments later, a soothing percussion that eased the tension from my shoulders.
Thunder rumbled in the distance. The sound was comforting to me, a natural lullaby that pulled my consciousness toward sleep.
Then came the screaming.
Two distinct feminine shrieks pierced through the walls, followed immediately by the sound of a door bursting open. Emma and Christine rushed into my room, pillows clutched to their chests.
"What?" I sat up, blinking in confusion.
Christine hopped right into my bed without hesitation, claiming the left side with the confidence of someone who'd done this a thousand times before. But not before I caught the mischievous glint in her eyes. Yeah, I'd never known her to be afraid of lightning storms. She was obviously doing this on purpose.
Emma stood frozen at the foot of the bed, still clutching her pillow. The realization of what she'd just done seemed to hit her all at once. She'd run into a man's bedroom, in the middle of the night, wearing that nightgown.
Her ears turned an even brighter shade of red.
"Emma, hurry up!" Christine called out, another crack of thunder punctuating her words. "The storm's not over yet!" She pulled back the blanket on my right side, the implication crystal clear.
Emma's entire face matched her ears now. She shuffled forward with tiny, hesitant steps, approaching the bed like it might bite her. She climbed in with exaggerated care, leaving a canyon of space between us despite the bed being large enough to accommodate the gap.
The rain continued its gentle assault on the window. Thunder growled overhead. And somehow, impossibly, I now had a girl on either side of me.
This was going to be a long night.