Watching her move—so precise, so dangerously elegant—I couldn't help but want her even more. The way her clothes clung to her figure, especially those hidden curves at her hips, and the subtle reveal of her chest, partially covered yet undeniably alluring, made it difficult not to imagine tearing the fabric away—unveiling what was just out of reach.
~~
After hours lost within her mind realm, Jingliu stirred and slowly awoke from her slumber.
Luocha, sensing movement inside the coffin, took a detour in the city, slipping into a shadowy alley.
Once he confirmed the area was clear, he signaled for Jingliu to emerge. The coffin opened with a soft creak, revealing her ethereal figure.
Seeing her composed expression, Luocha let out a quiet sigh of relief. It seemed the struggle she faced in her mind had passed. He didn't want to imagine dealing with a mara-struck Jingliu in a crowded city.
~~
Her body, once relentlessly honed through years of discipline, now stood with an eerie calm. I found myself drawn to her.
For a brief moment, her eyes shimmered with life—then dulled, vacant.
Why she leaves behind a body after waking remains a mystery to me. Perhaps this is simply the result of the dreamlike state we exist in. I can only guess.
Scenes like this had become common, but I'd always kept my distance. Yet this time… something urged me forward.
Maybe it was curiosity. Or maybe the lust I'd suppressed for so long was finally breaking through.
Cautiously, I reached out and lightly touched her hand. She didn't react—but outside the real world, the awakened Jingliu furrowed her brow and lifted her hand, sensing something that wasn't there.
"Miss Jingliu, is something the matter?" Luocha, mid-conversation, noticed her strange behavior.
"…It's nothing," she said softly, dismissing the sensation as a phantom touch.
From her perspective, I watched. She truly felt it.
Through more experimentation with my powers, I discovered I could influence her perception—projecting illusions into her eyes. While crafting full figures remained beyond my current ability, small alterations, minor tricks… those were possible.
Though I'll will shelf that ability for the future, maybe once it becomes more powerful.
As the two continued their journey toward the next source, Luocha had already made contact with a lead within the Wingweaver community. Posing as a foreign merchant, he arranged a meeting with one of their leaders, hoping to coax out the location of their hidden settlements.
With several of their homes already destroyed, the Wingweavers had grown increasingly cautious, making their communities harder to track down. However, this also left them in a vulnerable position.
Many of their usual suppliers had vanished, and the specialized goods they required couldn't be found through standard markets. Desperation was setting in.
That was where Luocha's plan came in. He offered them a steady supply of what they needed—at a price. A price that, of course, could be "negotiated."
Of course this negotiation tactic is only to lure out some of them only to tail them once they return.
"This is the place," Luocha said as they arrived at a small, tucked-away café. He took a seat at one of the available outdoor tables, and Jingliu sat across from him in silence.
Picking up the menu, Luocha scanned the options before calling to a passing waiter. "Ah, waiter—two jasmine teas, please."
"Right away, sir!" With a polite nod, the waiter disappeared into the shop.
Luocha turned his gaze toward the bustling street beyond.
This planet is called Thalassa—a planet dominated by oceans, with scattered islands across its surface, its used to be inhabited by indigenous people untouched by the wider galaxy. That changed when the IPC opened the planet to interstellar trade.
Since then, Thalassa had transformed into a tourist destination, beloved for its vast, clear waters and its ever-warm climate.
The capital, "Coralwyn", had become a hub for visitors and booming commerce—and here, they had traced the trail of one of the sources.
Before long, two rough-looking men with feathered wings on their backs approached their table.
"Luocha, correct?" one of them asked, eyeing Jingliu warily. "Didn't know you were bringing company."
Luocha gave a polite smile, gesturing to the seats. "Ah, forgive me. Just an old acquaintance I ran into by chance. We were simply catching up."
Jingliu sat with elegant stillness, her fingers wrapped around a delicate teacup, the warmth of the porcelain a quiet contrast to the cool grace she wore like silk. The tea's aroma calmed her mind, silently enjoying the taste, calming... until.
A touch—no, many—gliding over her skin. She didn't need to turn her head. She already knew who it was.
'This insufferable rogue…' She should've killed him—split his presence in two in her mindscape—but the timing wasn't right, danger is close. So she sat, back straight, face serene… while his touch spread like wildfire.
The hands weren't shy this time. They wandered boldly, tracing the modest breasts with slow, light pressure. Yet despite their confidence, they teased—always avoiding the tips, always just grazing, never stimulating them. Jingliu felt her breath tighten. The subtle ache building in her nipples only sharpened with every pass.
Other hands explored lower, gliding over the smooth curves of her thighs. The touch was soft, deliberate, as if memorizing every inch. Fingers trailed along her inner thighs, edging ever closer to the place she tried to defend. Her legs instinctively drew together, but a pressure came parting her once more and locking her legs in a wide spread posture.
And then, a delicate caress. Just at the center. Barely there.
Fingertips skimmed over it, light as breath, never intruding—just tracing the outer edges, brushing against sensitive skin, circling, teasing. When one found the tiny, hidden bead nestled beneath its soft hood, she felt her core pulse in response. A subtle dampness bloomed in her undergarments. And despite her hopes, they constantly teased the bead with light touches. Dampening it further.
Across the table, Luocha remained in quiet conversation with the two Wingweavers, Jingliu, kept composure, but her breath became slightly uneven.
She lifted the cup to her lips once more. But just as the tea reached her mouth—sharp pressure pinched on her nipples.
Her breath hitched. Her hand faltered and she choked on the sip.
"Cough… cough..." She pressed a hand to her chest, smoothing her breath with practiced calm. "Forgive me," she said softly, her voice steady despite the quickening beat beneath her chest. "Please, continue."
As if seeing her reaction, the hands became bolder as they became more fierce in their teasing.
Distracted by the constant teasing, Jingliu could hardly focused on their conversation. Though Jingliu tried holding it back, she felt an undeniable rising heat. even if she killed her emotion, lust is the reaction of the body, and she cannot contain the heat building inside of her.
The vigorous rubbing between her thigh finally broke Jingliu's composure as a small blush formed on her lips and her breathing became more rugged.
After what felt like an eternity of teasing, Jingliu sensed a tension coiling deep within her hips.
Her fingers dug into the edge of the table, her teeth grazing her inner lip as those skillful hands quickened their unrelenting rhythm .
'Cumm—' The word barely escaped her mind when, suddenly, they withdrew—savoring the denial. Leaving her trembling, on the edge of ecstasy, suspended in a breathless that ache to be finished.