Within the capitals of the empire, inside the main palace, a huge golden door connecting to the Pleasure Palace had materialized through Liora's control.

The Pleasure Palace had transformed itself into something resembling a luxurious spa, complete with silk divans, steaming pools, and an array of beauty treatments that materialized from thin air at Liora's whims.

The pink-haired spirit floated nearby, her translucent form glowing with satisfaction as she observed her handiwork.

Four women lay on plush cushions, their faces covered with what appeared to be green clay masks. The scene would have been serene if not for the obvious confusion radiating from one of them.

Ying Jia shifted uncomfortably on her divan, her silver hair spread like liquid moonlight across the silk pillows.

When she had been trying to sleep due to pain in her body, surprisingly, her body had healed as if she wasn't exhausted at all and could go for many rounds. That thought in itself was embarrassing as she opened her eyes only to find these three women dragging her alongside them while not even treating her like she was an outsider. So she was confused. So confused that nothing made sense.

Even with the face mask obscuring her features, her bewilderment was palpable as she stared up at the artificial sky Liora had conjured—complete with drifting clouds and gentle sunlight.

"What... is this?" she asked finally, her voice muffled by the clay mixture covering her face.

Yue's voice came from the adjacent divan, sharp and matter-of-fact despite being similarly masked. "I don't know, but Liora said it was one of the memory fragments of that pervert, something that makes skin good."

She gestured vaguely toward where Liora hovered, the spirit having apparently accessed some knowledge from Tianlong's memories about beauty treatments from his previous world.

Things that are related to desire, power, and fulfillment would automatically become accessible in this place. There one of the things was beauty.

Ying Jia blinked, her silver eyes the only visible feature beneath the green mask. "But doesn't our skin already lack impurities due to cultivation? Why would we need..." She trailed off, genuinely perplexed by the concept of cultivators engaging in such mundane beauty rituals.

Yue sighed heavily, removing cucumber slices from her eyes and turning her head to look at the divine woman. Her green eyes held a mixture of exasperation and resignation.

"Because I don't know," she said bluntly, then flopped back down onto her cushion. "Don't ask me to explain the logic behind anything that pervert likes... I am just trying to do whatever he might like."

The admission hung in the air, highlighting the absurdity of their situation.

Here were powerful cultivators—women who could level mountains and command Qi—lying with face masks because their shared husband apparently thought it was beneficial.

Feng's composed voice drifted from her position, calm and analytical despite the circumstances. "Perhaps it's simply that he likes cucumber and our skin might absorb the taste which he can—"

"Unique is one word for it and another... nonsense," Yue muttered, replacing her cucumber slices with perhaps more force than necessary.

Before Ying Jia could respond, the sound of approaching footsteps made them all turn their heads.

Mei entered the makeshift spa area, her dark hair bound up in a practical bun and her expression cheerful despite the strange situation they all found themselves in.

In her hands, she carried what appeared to be a small, vibrating device that hummed with a soft, mechanical rhythm.

"Jia!" Mei called out warmly, approaching with the enthusiasm of someone who had fully embraced the bizarre wedding preparations. "I brought you something."

Ying Jia propped herself up on her elbows, squinting at the unfamiliar object. "What is it?"

Mei held up the device with the matter-of-fact confidence of someone explaining a perfectly normal grooming tool.

"To clean your hair. You know, down there." She gestured vaguely downward with her free hand.

The directness of the statement hit Ying Jia like cold water.

Her silver eyes widened in shock, and if the face mask hadn't covered most of her features, her expression of absolute mortification would have been clearly visible.

"I... what?" she stammered, her composure cracking completely.

"Well, you're getting married," Mei continued with the same casual tone she might use to discuss the weather. "Shouldn't you be taking care of your... grooming? Husband seems to appreciate attention to such details."

Ying Jia's gaze darted frantically between the other women, searching for some sign that they found this conversation as shocking as she did.

Instead, she found Feng continuing to lie calmly with her mask, seemingly unbothered, while Yue had actually turned slightly to listen to the conversation with what might have been mild interest.

The casual acceptance of such intimate topics left Ying Jia feeling completely out of her depth.

In her previous divine existence, such matters had been... handled differently.

The frank discussion of bodily maintenance in preparation for sexual activity was jarring in its mundane practicality.

"I..." she began, then stopped, looking down at her hands as heat flooded her cheeks beneath the green clay. "Is this what he wants from us?"

The question carried deeper implications than simple grooming preferences.

Ying Jia's voice held a note of genuine confusion, even distress, as she grappled with her situation.

Her memories of her divine past remained intact, along with her knowledge of the cosmic injustices that had led to her current state.

She had expected to spend eternity seeking revenge against the Celestial Court by being tied down in many lives, not... this.

The mortal pleasures, the intimate preparations, the casual domesticity—it all felt surreal to someone who had once commanded divine authority.

"Was it just... carnal desires?" she whispered, more to herself than to the others.

Feng's voice cut through her spiral of confusion, measured and thoughtful. "He would have already told you what he wants from you, wouldn't he?"

The question was gentle but pointed, and Ying Jia's face turned an even deeper shade of crimson beneath her mask.

She closed her eyes tightly, as if she could block out the memory of their earlier encounter and his blunt declarations.

"Yes," she admitted in a barely audible voice. "He did. But that thing was... vulgar."

"What can you expect from a perverted bastard?" Yue's voice carried its usual crude edge, though there was an undercurrent of something else—perhaps affection, though she'd never admit it.

Ying Jia's eyes snapped open, genuine confusion replacing embarrassment. She turned to stare at Yue, her silver gaze intense despite the ridiculous face mask.

"Isn't he your husband?" she asked, bewildered. "Why do you curse him?"

The question caught not just Yue off guard, but Mei and Feng as well.

All three women turned to look at the archer, who had gone suspiciously still on her divan.

After a moment, Yue removed her cucumber slices again, her green eyes meeting Ying Jia's directly.

When she spoke, her voice was quieter than usual, lacking its typical harsh edge.

"Because I don't want to fall for him like the other two."

The admission hung in the air like a challenge. Mei blinked in surprise, while Feng's eyebrows rose above her mask.

Even Ying Jia looked confused by the statement.

"What?" Mei asked, genuine bewilderment in her voice. "But don't you love him?"

Yue sat up abruptly, the cucumber slices falling to the silk cushions as she faced them all.

Her expression was complicated—part defiance, part vulnerability, part stubborn determination.

"You see," she said, her voice gaining strength as she spoke, "if I let myself fully fall for him, I won't be able to stop him from doing things that might be harmful to him. So to keep my sanity, unlike you two, I need to keep my guard up. What if one day he brought in some bitch who just takes advantage of him?"

"Eh?" Ying Jia's eyes blinked as her mind recalled that indeed, wasn't she also taking advantage of him considering her first date when he met her, then him healing her, and afterwards helping her cultivate?

'So, I am also—' she was thinking before she heard Yue's words throwing a blanket on her thoughts.

"I only remained silent for Meilian—Ying Jia, damn that guy, how can he just change someone's name..." Yue muttered, rubbing her temple as she added, "Because she has given birth once, so she will help us deal with it when we too do the same while keeping that pervert busy while we give birth."

"HUHHHH!?" Feng and Mei seemed to be in unity as they exclaimed, clearly taken aback, causing both of them to look towards Ying Jia in a new light. They thought that their husband was just doing his usual deed, but Yue just saw something they ignored.

For all three of them, it was the first time becoming a mother. But this woman, she had been a mother of a 25-year-old guy. So naturally, who could be more of an expert than her? And especially the second advantage that they realized was when they would have baby bumps, this woman could keep their perverted husband's dick from entering some other hole.

"W-woah... You are really sharp, Yue..." Feng muttered, looking towards the archer who stood rubbing her forehead before looking towards Ying Jia, who was so confused that she seemed to blankly look back at her.

"Listen, it might be awkward... but he really loves you." Yue said, her voice calm, and also her eyes seeing exactly what doubt this woman might have. Naturally, because she knew her idiot husband couldn't be more blunt about his feelings.

So she, as a mediator, needed to solve the issue before more mess was created. So she added, "Don't think why he loves you, simply because he's just like that. He might seem like a pervert, but if he touches a woman, they have something special... trust him."

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