Steam rose in ethereal wisps, carrying waves of damp heat through the room. Inside the large wooden tub, a few stray flower petals drifted across the water’s surface, releasing a delicate, lingering fragrance.

The Chen sisters sat facing one another, their fair skin glistening beneath the water’s surface.

“Sister… are you truly doing well here?” Chen Ziqing asked softly, idly tracing circles in the water with her fingertip.

A gentle smile graced Chen Ziyi’s lips—a look of genuine radiance that Ziqing had never seen during their time in the family estate.

“I am,” Ziyi replied, gently washing her arm. “My husband treats me with incredible kindness. It’s nothing like… the others in the family.”

“Different? How?”

“Mhm.” Ziyi nodded, her smile widening as she recalled recent days. “He has never raised his voice or struck me. He doesn’t have any of those cruel, twisted quirks that the old cultivators get when they lose hope in the Dao. He… he gave me a wealth of gold and silver, and also…” She leaned in, whispering directly into her sister’s ear. “A full fifty Spirit Stones!”

“Fifty?!” Ziqing gasped, nearly bolting upright. For a Qi Condensation first-layer cultivator like her, that was an astronomical sum. Even when their father was alive, he had never granted her such a fortune at once.

“Mhm. He told me to keep them for myself, to buy whatever I pleased.” Ziyi’s eyes shimmered with affection. “He even allows me to call him ‘husband,’ rather than treating me like an object. And he is a skilled alchemist, too!”

Chen Ziqing fell silent, a storm of emotions churning in her chest. Fifty spirit stones… consideration… no cruelty… and an alchemist.

She had assumed her sister had been sacrificed to a monster, discarded into a quagmire. She never imagined that this “quagmire” could be warmer and more abundant than the icy halls of the Chen family. Thinking of her own inferior Water Spirit Root and the fate awaiting her—to be bartered away as a political tool for child-bearing—envy and a touch of resentment took root in her heart.

“Sister, you are truly fortunate.”

“It is only because my husband is benevolent.”

Early the next morning, Chen Ziyi was already bustling about the kitchen, humming a tuneless, happy melody while she prepared breakfast.

Her life usually consisted of watching Zhou Kai practice alchemy or cultivate; they only shared intimacy during “that matter.” Now that her sister was here, she felt a profound sense of relief at having someone to talk to.

Chen Ziqing leaned against the doorframe, watching her sister’s busy back. The happiness on Ziyi’s face was alien to her. In her memory, their parents had been as cold as ice toward one another, communicating only for the necessity of procreation.

She knew her own fate was sealed by her Spirit Root. No matter how she struggled, she would eventually be appraised by the elders and sold to a stranger’s bed for the sake of “clan interests.” In the cultivation world, familial love was a fragile thing, easily shattered by the pursuit of longevity. Hadn’t their father died for exactly that?

Yet, looking at her sister… she wondered if a different way to live truly existed.

“Husband, try this; it’s a new recipe,” Ziyi said, offering a savory meat pie to Zhou Kai with her chopsticks.

“Not bad.”

Those two simple words made Ziyi’s face bloom with joy. Zhou Kai’s gaze then drifted to Chen Ziqing. In the soft morning light, her features were distinct—strikingly similar to Ziyi’s, but more vivid, more youthful. There was a calculating depth in her eyes that her gentle sister lacked.

Sisters over rice… Zhou Kai’s mind whirred with possibilities.

“Little sister, don’t just stand there! Come eat,” Ziyi called out.

Ziqing wiped the look from her face, replacing it with a shy, obedient smile. “Thank you, Sister.” She approached the table but didn’t sit immediately. Instead, she performed a graceful, low bow toward Zhou Kai.

“I greet… Brother-in-law.” Her voice was soft and carried a calculated hint of bashfulness.

Zhou Kai gave a grunt of acknowledgment.

Night fell again. Zhou Kai pushed open the door to the master bedroom. The room was pitch black, no candles lit. He frowned but sensed a presence on the bed—steady breathing that suggested sleep.

His heart stirred. He lightened his footsteps, approaching through the faint moonlight. A slender silhouette lay on its side, long black hair fanned across the pillow.

Without hesitation, he leaned down and wrapped his arms around the warm, fragrant body.

“Huh?”

The figure in his arms stiffened violently. A short gasp escaped her, followed by a choked sob as she turned her head. In the shadows, a pair of eyes filled with panic and “shameful” anger met his.

It wasn’t Chen Ziyi. It was Chen Ziqing.

“Brother-in-law! You… how could you!” Ziqing’s voice was a mixture of tears and disbelief as she shoved his hands away. “Sister… Sister will be devastated! Let go of me!”

Zhou Kai: “…”

Green tea. Total, capital-letter GREEN TEA. And yet, it only made him want more. A flicker of amusement danced in his eyes as he feigned a flustered retreat.

Just then, the door creaked. Chen Ziyi entered, draped in an outer robe and holding an oil lamp high. “What happened? Ziqing?”

The golden light flooded the room, illuminating the scene: Ziqing trembling by the bed with red-rimmed eyes, and a “guilty-looking” Zhou Kai standing nearby.

The air grew thick with silence. Ziqing bit her lip, looking pitifully at her older sister without a word. Ziyi’s grip tightened on the lamp, her breathing momentarily hitched, but she did not explode in anger. Instead, her face took on a thoughtful, almost resigned expression.

“Husband?” she asked softly.

Ziqing looked at her sister with a look of pure shame.

Ziyi walked to the bedside, gently taking her younger sister’s hand and pulling her up. “Silly girl, did you wander into the wrong room in the dark? And Husband must have mistaken you for me in the shadows. Don’t cry. I’ve prepared the side room for you; go rest there before you ruin your eyes.”

Ziqing lowered her head, allowing herself to be led away. She passed Zhou Kai without looking up, her cheeks burning with a cocktail of shame, anger, and a strange, flustered excitement.

“Husband,” Ziyi said softly at the door, “the night is late. Let us retire.”

She closed the door, leaving them alone.

Later that night, the sounds of intimacy drifted from the master bedroom—Ziyi’s low moans, a mixture of pain and pleasure, seeping through the thin walls.

In the side room, Ziqing pulled the blankets over her head, her skin scorching hot. She tried to block out the noise, but it possessed a magnetic quality that disturbed her soul.

Sister… is this how she serves Brother-in-law?

Images of the earlier embrace flashed through her mind. She thought of her father’s death and the cold rules of the clan, contrasted against the radiant, “protected” life her sister now led.

“I can’t even sleep!” she whispered into the dark, her heart racing. “Is the man an ox?”

She pulled the covers tighter, but her mind continued to conjure the scenes occurring just a few feet away, her thoughts swirling in chaos until exhaustion finally claimed her at dawn.