Master," she purred, looking up at him through her lashes, "your skin is so warm. Like sunlight captured in silk."
Before Wu Lin could respond, Reinhardia cleared her throat loudly. "The Young Master's robe, Vados?"
The celestial attendant held open an elaborate lounging robe of silver and blue silk, carefully averting her eyes from Wu Lin's unclothed form—though not before a quick, analytical glance that she hoped went unnoticed.
It didn't. Wu Lin smiled faintly as he slipped his arms into the sleeves. "You may look, Vados. I know my form is perfection itself. It would be cruel to deny you the sight."
Vados's composed expression didn't change, but a faint color touched her pale cheeks. "I was merely ensuring the robe would sit correctly on your shoulders, Master."
"Of course you were," Wu Lin said, his tone making it clear he didn't believe her for a moment. He turned to Lucoa, who was making no effort to hide her appreciative stare. "At least one of you is honest about her admiration."
Lucoa beamed. "Why hide it? You're beautiful, Master! Like a perfect little doll I want to squeeze and cuddle forever!"
"Not so little," Wu Lin corrected with a raised eyebrow.
"Well..." Lucoa giggled, glancing downward meaningfully, "compared to the celestial dragons I used to know—"
"Lucoa," Vados interrupted firmly. "The Young Master's afternoon schedule includes meditation in the eastern pavilion, followed by calligraphy practice."
Wu Lin waved a dismissive hand. "I'm not in the mood for meditation or calligraphy. Instead, I wish to have my limbs oiled and massaged. My skin feels particularly dry today."
"As you wish, Master," Vados bowed slightly. "I shall prepare the special oils from the Celestial Mountain herbs."
"Excellent. And I require entertainment while being massaged. Lucoa, you shall sing for me."
The chaos dragon clapped her hands. "Oh! I know the most wonderful songs from seventeen different realms! There's a particularly good one about a cosmic serpent who—"
"Something soothing," Reinhardia interjected, earning a pout from Lucoa.
Wu Lin settled himself on a padded lounging couch in his private chamber, while Vados prepared various oils at a side table. The scent of exotic herbs and flowers filled the room as she warmed the precious liquids between her palms.
"Who shall have the honor of massaging me today?" Wu Lin asked, stretching languorously.
"I'll do it!" Lucoa volunteered instantly, bouncing on her toes with enthusiasm.
"Your technique lacks refinement," Vados observed. "The Master's skin requires delicate attention."
"I'm plenty delicate!" Lucoa protested. "I can be as soft as a summer breeze when I want to be!"
Reinhardia, standing silently by the wall, said nothing, but her eyes remained fixed on the interaction with unusual intensity.
Wu Lin observed the subtle tension between his divine maids with amusement. "You shall take turns," he decided. "Vados will begin with my arms, Lucoa my legs, and Reinhardia..." he paused, glancing at the stoic Sword Saint, "you may attend to my back."
Each maid took her position, Vados kneeling beside the couch to begin working fragrant oil into Wu Lin's arms with methodical precision. Her touch was perfect—not too firm, not too light—as she worked the oil into his skin with circular motions.
Lucoa knelt at his feet, pouring perhaps too much oil into her palms before enthusiastically applying it to his legs. Her strokes were less controlled than Vados's, but carried a warmth and energy that made Wu Lin's skin tingle pleasantly.
Reinhardia hesitated before approaching, her warrior's pride still wrestling with her cosmic obligation. Finally, she moved to the head of the couch, applying oil to Wu Lin's shoulders with stiff movements.
"You're too tense, Sword Saint," Wu Lin complained. "Your discomfort is transferring to me through your fingers."
"I apologize, Master," Reinhardia said formally. "I am... unaccustomed to such tasks."
"Clearly," Wu Lin sighed. "Here, observe Vados. See how her fingers move? Flowing like water. Or Lucoa—though perhaps with slightly less enthusiasm."
Lucoa was indeed applying herself to her task with gusto, her hands now working their way up Wu Lin's thighs with increasingly intimate circles. When her fingers strayed particularly high, Vados cleared her throat in warning.
"Lucoa," she said quietly, "remember our discussion about appropriate boundaries."
"But Master doesn't mind, do you?" Lucoa asked, looking up at Wu Lin with wide, innocent eyes that contrasted with her decidedly non-innocent touch.
Wu Lin merely smiled. "Your enthusiasm is appreciated, Lucoa. However, I believe Vados wishes to maintain certain... protocols."
Reluctantly, Lucoa's hands retreated to safer territory, though her pout made it clear she considered this an unnecessary restriction.
Meanwhile, Reinhardia was making a visible effort to relax her touch, studying Vados's technique and attempting to replicate it. Slowly, her rigid movements became more fluid, her strong fingers finding a gentler rhythm as they worked the oil into Wu Lin's shoulders.
"Better," Wu Lin murmured, closing his eyes in contentment. "Much better."
For several minutes, the only sounds in the chamber were Lucoa's soft humming (she had begun a melody without being prompted) and the subtle sounds of hands moving over oil-slicked skin. Wu Lin drifted in a pleasant haze of sensation, surrounded by the attentions of three divine beings wholly focused on his comfort.
"Master," Vados said softly, breaking the tranquil silence, "there is a matter we should discuss."
Wu Lin made a noncommittal sound, not opening his eyes. "If it's about those cultivation sect disciples again, I'm not interested."
"It concerns the Imperial Court," Vados continued, her hands never pausing in their methodical massage. "The Emperor has sent another invitation—this time for the Celestial Peach Banquet next week."
This caught Wu Lin's attention. The Celestial Peach Banquet was the most prestigious event in the Jade Heaven Empire, held only once every thirty years when the sacred peach trees in the Imperial Garden bore fruit. Only the highest nobility and most powerful cultivation sects received invitations.
"Interesting," Wu Lin murmured, opening one eye. "I've never been invited before."
"The invitation specifically mentions your 'divine attendants,'" Vados added. "It seems your new status has caught the Emperor's attention."
"Of course it has," Wu Lin said with complete confidence. "Who wouldn't be fascinated by me?"
Lucoa giggled, her hands now working on his calves. "You're so adorably confident, Master! I love that about you."
"It's not confidence if it's simply stating facts," Wu Lin replied, closing his eyes again. "We shall attend this banquet. All four of us. It will be an excellent opportunity to display my superiority to all those tedious nobles and sect leaders."
"Master," Reinhardia said, her voice carrying a note of concern, "such an event may present security challenges. Many powerful individuals gathered in one place, some possibly hostile to your... acquisition... of divine servants."
"Are you suggesting someone might try to harm me? Or steal you away?" Wu Lin asked, sounding more amused than concerned.
"It's possible," Reinhardia admitted. "The binding of divine beings to mortal service is unprecedented in this age. Some may see it as a threat to the natural order."
Wu Lin laughed softly. "Let them try. I have absolute confidence in your abilities to protect me, Sword Saint. Isn't that what you exist for now?"
Reinhardia's hands paused momentarily on his shoulders, then resumed their massage with slightly more pressure. "Yes, Master. That is my purpose now."
"Excellent. Then it's settled. We shall attend the banquet, and you three shall ensure I am the center of attention, as is proper."
The massage continued in silence for several more minutes before Wu Lin spoke again, his voice thoughtful. "Tell me, do you three ever disagree with each other when I'm not present?"
The question caught the divine maids by surprise. They exchanged glances over Wu Lin's recumbent form.
"We have... different approaches to our service," Vados answered carefully.
"Vados is always telling me I'm too affectionate," Lucoa complained cheerfully. "As if there could be such a thing!"
"You consistently violate the protocols we established," Vados replied, her tone still perfectly composed despite the criticism.
"Protocols, protocols," Lucoa mimicked with a dramatic eye roll. "Master doesn't mind my affection, do you?"
Before Wu Lin could answer, Reinhardia spoke. "We each serve according to our nature. That inevitably creates... friction."
Wu Lin smiled, his eyes still closed. "How fascinating. Divine beings squabbling over how best to serve a mortal. I find it rather flattering."
"We do not squabble," Vados corrected primly. "We discuss optimal service approaches."
"Rather heatedly, sometimes," Lucoa added with a giggle.
"Only because certain individuals refuse to understand the concept of appropriate boundaries," Reinhardia muttered.
Wu Lin's smile widened. "Continue your... discussions. I find the results most entertaining."
The massage concluded with Wu Lin's skin glowing with health and vitality, the rare oils absorbed to leave him feeling refreshed and pampered. As he rose from the couch, he stretched languidly, seemingly unconcerned with his state of semi-undress before the three divine maids.
"I wish to rest before dinner," he announced. "Lucoa, you shall accompany me. I require a nap, and you make an adequate pillow."
Lucoa bounced with delight. "Yes, Master! My bosom is at your service!"
"Vados, prepare my evening meal—something light but exquisite. And Reinhardia," he turned to the Sword Saint, "continue strengthening the estate's defenses. I wish to be undisturbed."
Each divine maid bowed in acknowledgment of their assigned tasks. As Wu Lin glided toward his bedchamber with Lucoa following eagerly behind, Vados and Reinhardia exchanged a look—the celestial attendant's expression unreadable, the Sword Saint's troubled.
"He's deliberately playing us against each other," Reinhardia observed quietly once Wu Lin was out of earshot.
"Of course," Vados replied, already moving toward the kitchen to prepare the evening meal. "He finds it entertaining."
"And you don't object to being... entertainment?" Reinhardia asked, a hint of indignation in her voice.
Vados paused, looking back at the Sword Saint with ancient eyes. "We are bound to serve him. If our interactions amuse him, that is part of our service. Besides," she added, a hint of something like curiosity in her usually impassive voice, "don't you find him... interesting?"
Reinhardia opened her mouth to deny it, then closed it again. After a moment, she simply turned and walked away, her silence more revealing than any words could have been.
Chapter 3: Evening Intimacies
Wu Lin's bedchamber was a masterpiece of imperial luxury. The massive bed dominated the center, carved from thousand-year-old dreamwood that captured pleasant dreams and replayed them each night. Silk curtains in seventeen shades of blue hung from a canopy inlaid with luminescent pearls that glowed softly in the dimming light.
"Master, shall I fluff your pillows?" Lucoa asked eagerly as Wu Lin settled onto the cloud-soft mattress.
"That won't be necessary," Wu Lin replied, patting the space beside him. "You shall be my pillow, as previously stated."
Lucoa needed no further invitation. She bounded onto the bed, causing the entire massive structure to bounce, and immediately arranged herself beside Wu Lin. With impressive flexibility, she positioned herself so that her abundant bosom created a perfect resting place for his head.
"Comfortable, Master?" she asked, already running her fingers through his silken hair.
"Adequate," Wu Lin replied, which from him was high praise indeed. He shifted slightly, settling himself more comfortably against her warmth. "You may sing me to sleep."
"With pleasure!" Lucoa began a soft melody in a language unknown to mortals, her voice surprisingly sweet and soothing for one who usually bubbled with chaotic energy. As she sang, her fingers continued to stroke Wu Lin's hair, occasionally trailing down to his neck and shoulders in gentle caresses.
Wu Lin's eyes drifted closed, his expression unusually peaceful. In repose, without his practiced arrogance, he looked younger, almost vulnerable. Lucoa gazed down at him with genuine affection, her song continuing as she watched him slip toward sleep.
When the song ended, Wu Lin didn't immediately open his eyes. "Another," he murmured drowsily.
Lucoa began a new melody, this one even softer than the first. Her hand moved from his hair to his chest, resting over his heart in a surprisingly tender gesture. She could feel its steady rhythm beneath her palm, this fragile mortal heart that now commanded divine power.
"Lucoa," Wu Lin said quietly, his eyes still closed, "tell me something."
"Anything, Master," she replied, pausing her song.
"Do you resent being bound to me?"
The question was unexpected, especially coming from Wu Lin, who rarely showed interest in others' feelings. Lucoa considered her answer carefully.
"No," she said finally, her usual bubbly demeanor replaced by thoughtful sincerity. "I've existed for eons, Master. Eternity can become... monotonous. This binding gives me purpose, direction. And you're far more entertaining than most gods I've known."
Wu Lin opened his eyes, looking up at her with unusual intensity. "Vados and Reinhardia feel differently."
"They're still adjusting," Lucoa explained, resuming her gentle stroking of his hair. "Vados has always been rigid—all rules and protocols. And Reinhardia defines herself by her warrior's pride. Being bound as servants challenges their self-image."
"But not yours?"
Lucoa smiled. "I'm chaos, Master. Adaptation is my nature. Besides," she added, leaning closer until her lips nearly touched his ear, "I rather enjoy taking care of you."
The intimacy of the moment hung between them, neither fully acknowledged nor dismissed. Wu Lin's expression remained unreadable as he closed his eyes once more.
"Continue your song," he instructed, his voice betraying nothing of his thoughts.
Lucoa obeyed, resuming her gentle melody. Within minutes, Wu Lin's breathing had deepened, indicating he had fallen asleep. Still, she continued to sing softly, her fingers tracing lazy patterns through his hair, watching over him with an expression that might have surprised those who knew her only as the bubbly, chaotic dragon maid.
Wu Lin slept for precisely ninety-seven minutes—the optimal nap duration according to Vados's calculations. He awoke to find Lucoa still beside him, now reading a celestial text that appeared to be written on light itself rather than paper.
"You're awake!" she observed cheerfully, the text vanishing with a wave of her hand. "Did you have pleasant dreams, Master?"
"Adequate," Wu Lin replied, sitting up and stretching elegantly. "What time is it?"
"Almost time for your evening meal," Lucoa informed him. "Vados has been preparing something special. She wouldn't tell me what, but it smells divine—literally! Like that ambrosia they serve at the Celestial Emperor's palace."
Wu Lin nodded, then glanced toward his private bathing chamber. "I require attendance for my evening toilette before dinner."
Lucoa bounced off the bed immediately. "I'd be happy to help, Master!"
Wu Lin's lips curved in a small smile. "I'm sure you would. However, I believe it's Reinhardia's turn."
As if on cue, the Sword Saint appeared at the chamber entrance, her timing suspiciously perfect. Had she been waiting outside? Wu Lin's smile widened at the thought.
"You summoned me, Master?" Reinhardia asked, her posture military-straight.
"I require assistance with my evening toilette," Wu Lin informed her, rising from the bed with fluid grace. "Lucoa, inform Vados that we shall dine in thirty minutes."
"Yes, Master!" Lucoa replied, though her disappointed expression made it clear she would have preferred to stay. She bounced from the room, the door closing behind her with a bit more force than necessary.
Alone with Reinhardia, Wu Lin moved toward his private bathing chamber, the Sword Saint following a precise three steps behind. Unlike the main bathing hall, this room was smaller and more intimate, featuring a polished stone sink, a mirror of celestial glass, and various implements for grooming and personal hygiene.
"You shall wash my face and hands," Wu Lin instructed, seating himself on a cushioned stool before the sink. "Then brush my hair and prepare me for dinner."
"As you wish, Master," Reinhardia replied, her voice carefully neutral.
She began by warming water in a jade basin, testing the temperature with her wrist before soaking a soft cloth. With surprising gentleness for a warrior of her caliber, she wrung out the cloth and approached Wu Lin.
"Close your eyes, Master," she requested softly.
Wu Lin complied, his long lashes resting against his cheeks as Reinhardia carefully pressed the warm cloth to his face. She worked with unexpected tenderness, cleansing his skin with circular motions. When she reached his lips, her touch slowed, becoming almost hesitant.
Wu Lin opened his eyes, catching her in this moment of uncertainty. "Is something wrong, Sword Saint?"
"No, Master," she replied quickly, resuming her task with renewed efficiency.
Once his face was cleansed, she poured fresh warm water into the basin and took his hands in hers. The contrast was striking—his perfectly manicured, unblemished hands cradled in her warrior's palms, marked with calluses from millennia of swordplay. She washed each finger individually, paying special attention to his nails and the spaces between his fingers.
"Your hands have never known work," she observed, not as criticism but as simple fact.
"Why would they?" Wu Lin replied. "That's what servants are for."
"Indeed," Reinhardia agreed, her tone unreadable. She dried his hands on a silk towel, then reached for a jade comb to tend to his hair.
As she began to work the comb through his ebony locks, Wu Lin closed his eyes again, enjoying the sensation. Reinhardia's movements were precise but gentle, carefully working through any tangles without causing discomfort.
"You perform this task well for someone unaccustomed to service," Wu Lin remarked.
"I have tended my own hair for millennia," Reinhardia replied. "The technique is transferable."
"And yet it feels different when someone else does it," Wu Lin mused. "More pleasant."
Reinhardia made a noncommittal sound, continuing her careful grooming. When his hair was perfectly smooth, she reached for a small vial of fragrant oil.
"May I, Master?" she asked, displaying the vial.
Wu Lin nodded his assent. Reinhardia poured a few drops onto her palm, rubbed her hands together, then worked the oil through the ends of his hair. The scent of celestial flowers filled the small chamber.
"Turn toward me," she instructed, then immediately softened her tone. "If it pleases you, Master."
Wu Lin turned on his stool to face her. Reinhardia knelt before him, reaching for another implement—a small crystal wand that glowed faintly with inner light.
"This will enhance your natural... radiance," she explained, running the wand gently across his cheekbones and brow. Wherever it touched, his skin seemed to glow subtly from within, highlighting his already extraordinary beauty.
Wu Lin observed her face as she worked, noting the intense concentration in her eyes, the slight furrow between her brows. "You find this demeaning," he stated, not a question but an observation.
Reinhardia's hands paused momentarily before continuing. "My feelings are irrelevant, Master. I am bound to serve you."
"That wasn't what I asked."
The Sword Saint met his gaze directly for perhaps the first time since their binding. "Yes," she admitted. "I find it... difficult... to reconcile my former purpose with my current duties."
Wu Lin nodded, accepting this honesty. "And yet you perform them admirably."
"I do nothing poorly," Reinhardia stated, a flash of her warrior's pride showing through. "Whatever the task, I excel."
"Even serving a useless, pampered mortal?" Wu Lin asked, his tone light but his eyes watchful.
Reinhardia's jaw tightened fractionally. "You are my master now. That makes serving you my purpose. I will fulfill that purpose perfectly, regardless of my personal feelings."
"How admirably rigid," Wu Lin observed. "Perhaps that's why I find it so entertaining to watch you struggle with simple tasks like washing my face or brushing my hair. The mighty Sword Saint, reduced to a lady's maid."
He expected anger, perhaps even a flash of the warrior's spirit he occasionally glimpsed beneath her servile exterior. Instead, Reinhardia surprised him by smiling—a small, tight expression, but genuine nonetheless.
"You enjoy provoking me," she observed.
"I enjoy provoking everyone," Wu Lin corrected. "It's one of my few talents."
"Along with poetry, calligraphy, and looking beautiful," Reinhardia added, resuming her ministrations with the crystal wand.
Wu Lin raised an eyebrow. "Was that sarcasm, Sword Saint?"
"Merely an observation, Master."
Their eyes met again, and something passed between them—not quite understanding, perhaps, but a mutual acknowledgment of the strange situation they found themselves in. Master and servant, mortal and divine, each assessing the other with new interest.
The moment was interrupted by a soft knock at the door. "Master," Vados's voice called, "dinner is prepared whenever you are ready."
"We shall be there shortly," Wu Lin replied, his eyes still on Reinhardia's face. "The Sword Saint is completing my toilette."
When they finally emerged from the private chamber, Wu Lin was immaculate—his hair glossy with celestial oil, his skin subtly luminous, his entire being radiating the pampered perfection that defined his existence. Reinhardia followed three steps behind, her warrior's posture restored, no trace of their intimate conversation visible in her composed features.
Dinner awaited in Wu Lin's private dining pavilion, a circular structure of carved jade and sandalwood that overlooked the moonlit lotus pond. Vados had outdone herself with the meal preparation, presenting dishes that defied mortal culinary understanding—clouds of spun sugar that tasted like sunrise, translucent fish that changed flavor with each bite, fruits carved into the shape of celestial constellations.
"Your evening meal, Master," Vados announced with a perfect bow.
"It looks adequate," Wu Lin declared, which from him was the highest praise. He settled onto his dining couch, gesturing for his divine maids to take their positions—Vados to serve the food, Lucoa to pour the wine, and Reinhardia to stand guard nearby.
"Master," Vados said as she presented the first course, "while preparing dinner, I detected unusual energy patterns at the eastern boundary of your estate. It appears someone is testing the defensive wards Reinhardia established."
Wu Lin sipped his wine, seemingly unconcerned. "And?"
"The attempts are sophisticated," Reinhardia added from her position by the wall. "They bear the signature of high-level cultivation techniques, possibly from the Celestial Phoenix Sect."
"Boring," Wu Lin declared, sampling a morsel of the cloud-like confection Vados had placed before him. "Let them test all they want. Can they breach your defenses?"
"No," Reinhardia stated with absolute certainty. "Nothing in this mortal realm could."
"Then I see no reason to concern myself with their tedious probing," Wu Lin said dismissively. "Now, Lucoa, more wine. And perhaps a song while I dine? Something cheerful—not those dreary battle hymns Reinhardia hums when she thinks no one is listening."
The Sword Saint's cheeks colored slightly, confirming that Wu Lin's observation was accurate. Lucoa giggled as she refilled his wine cup with a celestial vintage that shimmered like liquid starlight.
"I know the perfect song, Master!" She began a melodious tune in an ancient language, her voice surprisingly sweet as she sang what appeared to be a playful ballad about a dragon who fell in love with a mortal princess.
As Wu Lin dined in luxury, attended by three divine beings catering to his every whim, the moon rose higher over the Jade Heaven Empire. Somewhere beyond the protective wards of his estate, eyes watched and plotted. But within his heavenly pavilion, Zhao Wu Lin existed in a bubble of perfect indulgence, untouchable and supremely confident in his divine protection.
The evening concluded with Wu Lin's final toilette—the most intimate service his divine maids performed. In his private chamber, a special commode of carved jade awaited, surrounded by soft cushions and scented with rare incense.
"Who shall attend me tonight?" Wu Lin asked casually, as if inquiring about who would pour his tea rather than assist with his most private functions.
Vados stepped forward. "The rotation indicates it is my turn, Master."
Wu Lin nodded, dismissing Lucoa and Reinhardia with a wave of his hand. "Leave us. I shall retire immediately after."
Once alone with Vados, Wu Lin allowed her to disrobe him with practiced efficiency. He settled onto the jade commode, completely at ease despite the intimate nature of the situation.
Vados knelt before him, her expression serene and professional as she prepared to assist him. For all her celestial power, in this moment she was simply a maid attending to her master's most basic needs.
"You've grown accustomed to these duties quickly," Wu Lin observed, watching her face.
"Adaptation is necessary for optimal service," Vados replied, her voice neutral. "All tasks in service to you are equally important, Master."
"Even this?" Wu Lin pressed, genuinely curious about her perspective.
Vados met his gaze steadily. "In the celestial realms, we understand that all aspects of existence have purpose and dignity. There is no hierarchy of tasks—only the perfection with which they are performed."
Wu Lin considered this as she assisted him, her movements efficient and dignified despite the nature of the service. When she had completed her duties, washing and drying him with the same care she might use when serving him tea, he stood to allow her to redress him in his sleeping robes.
"Vados," he said as she fastened the final tie on his robe, "you are different from the others."
"In what way, Master?" she inquired, stepping back with a bow.
"You never seem to resent your service, yet neither do you embrace it with Lucoa's enthusiasm or struggle against it like Reinhardia. You simply... accept."
Vados was silent for a moment, considering her response. "I have existed for eons, Master. I have witnessed the rise and fall of countless civilizations, the birth and death of stars. In cosmic terms, this binding is but a moment in endless time. Why resist what cannot be changed?"
Wu Lin studied her face, finding her calm acceptance both fascinating and slightly unsettling. "And if this moment lasts my entire mortal lifetime? Decades of serving my every whim?"
"Then I shall serve perfectly for decades," Vados replied simply. "And when your mortal days end, I shall remember you as one of many masters I have known through eternity."
With those words hanging in the air between them, Vados bowed and prepared to escort Wu Lin to his bedchamber for the night. As they walked through the moonlit corridors of the palace, Wu Lin found himself uncharacteristically thoughtful, contemplating his place in the cosmic perspective of beings who measured time in millennia rather than days.
For the first time in his pampered existence, Zhao Wu Lin wondered if perhaps there might be more to life than perfect comfort and absolute indulgence. The thought was so foreign that he dismissed it almost immediately, attributing it to the lateness of the hour and the strange conversation with his celestial maid.
As he settled into his massive bed, surrounded by silk cushions and perfumed with rare incense, Wu Lin pushed aside such troubling thoughts. He was the Untouchable Young Master, with three divine beings bound to his service. The cosmos itself had arranged for his perfect comfort. Why question such a fortuitous arrangement?
With that comforting certainty restored, Wu Lin drifted into sleep, unaware of the gathering forces beyond his walls—forces that viewed his binding of divine maids as an abomination that must be corrected, no matter the cost.
Chapter 4: The First Challenge
Word spread quickly throughout the Jade Heaven Empire. Zhao Wu Lin, the useless young master known only for his beauty and luck, now commanded three divine beings of unimaginable power. Rumors multiplied faster than rabbits in spring—some said he had discovered a secret cultivation technique, others claimed he had blackmailed the gods themselves, and a few whispered that he was actually an ancient deity in mortal form.
The truth—that he had accidentally bound three cosmic entities to his service by carelessly tossing a priceless artifact into a ritual fire during an eclipse—was too absurd for anyone to believe.
One week after Wu Lin's divine maids had settled into their routine of perfect service, trouble arrived at his gates.
"Young Master," a servant reported, kowtowing so deeply his nose touched the floor, "Sect Leader Fang of the Crimson Blade Sect demands an audience. He has brought thirty-six disciples and claims you have stolen something that belongs to his ancestors."
Wu Lin was currently having his feet massaged by Lucoa, who had discovered that channeling a tiny fraction of her chaos energy through her fingertips created sensations that made Wu Lin giggle uncontrollably.
"Tell him I'm busy," Wu Lin mumbled drowsily. "Very important foot-massage business."
The servant trembled. "Young Master, Sect Leader Fang threatens to breach the compound if you do not receive him. He has brought combat disciples of the ninth rank."
Reinhardia, who had been standing silently by the wall, stepped forward. "Master, allow me to address this threat. A single word from me will send them fleeing."
Wu Lin sighed dramatically. "Must we? It's so disruptive to my relaxation schedule."
Lucoa, who had been totally focused on her foot-massaging duties, looked up with her usual bright smile. "We could invite them in for tea! I make excellent calming tea that might soothe their anger."
"Your 'calming tea' put three palace guards to sleep for two days," Vados reminded her from where she was arranging flowers nearby.
Wu Lin considered his options. "Very well. I shall receive this sect leader, but I refuse to walk all the way to the reception hall. Reinhardia, you shall carry me."
The Sword Saint's eye twitched almost imperceptibly. "Carry... you, Master?"
"Yes. In your arms. Like a princess in those mortal fairy tales." Wu Lin stretched lazily. "It seems appropriate."
Reinhardia looked as if she might spontaneously combust from indignation, but cosmic law compelled her to comply. With rigid movements, she approached, slid one arm under Wu Lin's knees and the other behind his back, and lifted him effortlessly.
"Not so stiff," Wu Lin complained. "Your armor is poking me."
Reinhardia took a deep breath. "This is my ceremon