"Not a chance."
Fang Zuo decisively ended the call. Absurd! A Nascent Soul Venerable, tending to girls' dorms in a university saturated with Yin-energy? Surrounded daily by the cycles of... menstruation. Inhaling nothing but cosmetics and powders all day? Utterly inauspicious! If word got back home, he'd be the laughingstock of those old fogies. He appreciated dual cultivation, sure, but he wasn't from the Hehuan Sect! With a sharp crack, he tossed the phone aside.
He pulled on his trousers but remained shirtless as he headed downstairs.
In the kitchen, he opened the well-stocked fridge. He retrieved a slab of Wagyu beef. A fluttering knife skill later, it was finely minced. A wave of his hand summoned spring onions and ginger, blending seamlessly. A snap of his fingers saw wrappers forming themselves. But for the final act—the sacred ritual of assembly—he used his own hands. Beef guotie.
Once filled, he heated olive oil in a skillet. The guotie went in, followed by a splash of water for the crisp-bottomed finish.
Soft, pale arms snaked around his waist from behind, hugging tightly.
"Master," Nagimitsu breathed, her face pressed against his bare back, rubbing gently. "Nagimitsu never dreamed of such... fulfillment."
"Did she calm down?" Fang Zuo asked, focusing on the sizzling pan.
"Mmm. Cried a while in my arms," Nagimitsu murmured, a soft laugh escaping. "Seems she's developed feelings for Master too."
Fang Zuo stirred the pan. Nagimitsu watched his effortless movements with awe. He was an enigma wrapped in power. The Sixth Demon King dismissed like dust. Everything he did radiated absolute confidence. As a player in Tokyo's highest echelons, privy to secrets the public couldn't fathom, Nagimitsu understood the island held formidable forces—the Occult Council, Pure Land masters, the Tsuchimikado Shinto of the Abe clan, Sensō-ji's Wind and Thunder Gate... Powers beyond common comprehension. Yet, before this man? They were... unworthy of comparison. Power commanded absolute loyalty. Every woman in Japan revered strength. She was enthralled. So how could her innocent, lovestruck daughter resist?
"Master... your body feels... different?" Nagimitsu ventured, her hand exploring the sculpted planes of his stomach over his abs.
Did she notice?
"This is my body," Fang Zuo stated simply. He hadn't thought the transformation was overt, as the build was similar. But from the moment of possession, this vessel had been consumed and completely remade by his Nascent Soul. Only the face retained a lingering illusion spell for outsiders to see "Fujino."
He turned to face her. Her liquid grace was framed in a nude lace chemise, bare feet peeking out from beneath. Her slender feet were impeccably cared for, nails painted a glossy red. Long, full legs led up to where the fabric clung damply over her chest—stained by her daughter's earlier tears. She wore nothing beneath. Through the damp lace, faint bruises from the previous night's passion were visible. Her fervor matched his intensity. "Breakfast is ready," he said, gently nudging her head.
Nagimitsu's eyes became half-lidded and dewy. She obediently sank to her knees.
At the breakfast table, Nagimitsu called Yui several times before the girl reluctantly emerged from her room. Her eyes were puffy and red-rimmed. She avoided looking at Fang Zuo entirely. Seeing her mother wrapped around "Onīsan" had shattered her world. The tender bud of her feelings felt cruelly trampled. No amount of soothing from her mother initially placated her fury. Why would her married mother steal the one she was falling for? She hadn't even experienced romance yet! But after Nagimitsu whispered explanations—of danger averted, of impossible power, of debts owed—Yui's rage and tears gave way to shock, then a burning, timid fascination. Her tears stopped. She nodded silently. Flushed crimson with shyness, she barely left her room until repeatedly called. She meticulously adjusted her sailor uniform and black thigh-high socks before entering the dining area.
The weight of both gazes made her falter. She bowed deeply without looking up. "Ohayō gozaimasu, Onīsan." Then, she scurried to her chair at the high table, climbing onto the tall seat before finally raising her eyes, darting shy glances at Fang Zuo.
The aroma finally won her attention. Her eyes landed on the sizzling guotie. "Beef guotie? Sugoi!" Hunger overrode her shyness, her eyes lighting up.
"Eat. It's similar but distinct from typical fried dumplings," Fang Zuo offered.
"Itadakimasu!" Mother and daughter chorused, placing their palms together before picking up chopsticks.
"Oooh... Oishii!" Yui mumbled, cheeks bulging as she chewed vigorously.
"Mmm… Ah! Oishii!" Nagimitsu echoed, covering her mouth elegantly with a hand tipped in red nail polish. She chewed slowly, her gaze filled with deep satisfaction resting on her master.
"Okāsan, I want milk too!" Yui mumbled around another mouthful.
"Hm?" Nagimitsu was momentarily confused.
Yui hopped down and fetched the milk from the fridge. Understanding dawned on Nagimitsu. She darted her tongue out, slowly licking a stray droplet from her lip. She looked at Fang Zuo from beneath her lashes, stifling a quiet laugh.
"Okāsan, I need to register at school soon," Yui announced between gulps of milk.
"Which school?" Fang Zuo asked, pushing his mostly untouched plate away. Fasting had been instinctive since Foundation Establishment; occasional eating was merely a nod to worldly experience.
"Tokyo Women's University," Yui replied, popping another guotie.
"You're going there?" Fang Zuo raised an eyebrow.
"Practically all young women from Tokyo's upper strata go there," Nagimitsu explained. "Not just political families. The daughters of commerce elites attend as well."
"Not sent to America?" Fang Zuo questioned.
"Only those from less established families, or those impure of lineage," Nagimitsu clarified, dabbing her lips elegantly. "Families proud of their roots keep their daughters here."
Ring-ring-ring.
Nagimitsu's phone vibrated on the table.
"Ha! Ha! Ha!"
She answered crisply, then hung up.
"Fujino-kun," she said, her expression apologetic, almost fearful as she searched his face. "I must meet with my clan elders today. I... I won't be able to accompany you." She'd cancel instantly at the slightest hint of displeasure.
"It's fine," Fang Zuo shrugged. "I cherish you, Nagimitsu, not some version of you warped for my sake." Truth resonated in his words.
Nagimitsu's eyes shimmered. What greater satisfaction existed than her master's affirmation? Well, perhaps his physical potency. "My clan reached out. An... irresistible figure summoned me."
"Weren't they all deceased?" Fang Zuo stroked his chin.
"The women who married out... met that fate," Nagimitsu replied, her voice devoid of warmth. A sliver of venom laced it. "The others live quite comfortably."
Fang Zuo noted the sudden sharpness in her eyes. Her political prowess wasn't accidental. Her submission to him was born of awe, not weakness. That Abe Nozomi woman… her gaze carried the same cold steel. A fascinating creature, such stark contrasts within.
Ring-ring-ring!
The phone shrilled again.
"FUJINO-KUN! COME QUICK! New Shukkou Building, Room 4B! HURRY—"
Sakura Kuri's frantic cry was abruptly cut off by shouting and the sound of metal crashing in the background.
Fang Zuo rolled his eyes heavenward. "Seriously?!" He exhaled sharply. This troublesome woman! Still, he had to report to HQ anyway. Might as well see what fresh chaos demanded his attention. "Nagimitsu, handle things here." He grabbed his shirt and strode out.