“Holy hell, where’d that come from?” Ziyou Yung gaped, swearing like the woolly-headed halfwit he was.

“Listen to us, then speak!” Nanya removed her fingers from the boy’s palms and cupped his surprisingly bouncy cheeks, pressing them together, “This is about some person else; a fair maiden of an unsung story we admire reverently, and not us. Are we clear?”

“Ah, sure.”

“This fair maiden, oh so beautiful she is under the moonlight; how many a great man fell at the sight of her succulent lips and the heavenly sway of her hips. Yet she rejected them all.”

“…”

“For she waited, for a hundred years and beyond, for her soulmate to return. Indeed, she awaited her valiant champion. Her hero.”

Ziyou Yung cringed at the term soulmate. In his dreams, the boy wondered if it was just a coincidence that she was spouting the same soulmate narrative as Youjin Chao.

Nanya carried on with her melancholic melody.

Ziyou Yung listened with bated breath.

“He did return, yet with more brides of his own. He was the conqueror of clans, the slayer of devils. His name resounded far and wide across the Coiling zenith continent, and tales of his deeds crossed the oceans faster than the last starlight of the night.”

“Sounds like a swell guy.”

“Oh how her brave saved billions from the tyranny of dark sects; how he freed lost planes, hidden beyond the void to the clutches of the foreign gods. He ascended to spirit severing, then spirit assimilating in both Spirit qi and Origin qi. He is the golden son of the fates, the daochild of the age. And oh how he returned to his beloved childhood friend to keep a promise of unity despite time and tragedy. Despite having tasted other women.”

“I’m hearing a but.”

“But! When our fair maiden rejected her corrupted brave’s sullied soul, he blamed her selfishness, her egomania! His other wives mocked the maiden a needy harlot. And such did the world, the masses, and even the heavens. Is the fair maiden wrong? Was she truly not enough to satisfy her one true hero?”

Nanya tried her hardest not to break down weeping, “Why… why would he not return alone? Why would he flaunt his defiled flesh and innocence, the touch he shared with other women—other cocottes—at our maiden’s angelic face? So pure she is, so innocent her sin. Why do you men do this?”

“Uhh, I believe infidelity is a gender neutral thing—”

“Would you not do the same if you had the chance, oh new servant? Would you not want a blossom so divine as we, plucked in one hand,” Nanya squeezed her servant’s right cheek, “And perhaps a beauty of another kind in your other? Say, the wait maiden of this establishment who stalks your room night after night?” She squeezed his left cheek. A bit harder.

“She does what?!” Ziyou Yung lisped through his kneaded lips.

“Touch your heart and tell us, for we wish to know! Would you not seize it if you had the chance, to deflower as many fairies as your filthy mind wished. With their wholehearted love and unabashed acceptance?”

Ziyou Yung gulped.

Nanya could see his daydreams playing with the idea. Her golden eyes were unmoving, her fang biting into her lips and her brows trembling. She forgot her breath, ignored her guilt, and tightened her embracing legs around Ziyou Yung’s hips. She asked the most crucial question, “Would you not want a harem?”

“Jesus fucking Christ and all good things Moira stands for, HELL NO!” The answer was immediate, without the slightest hint of hesitation. His spittle flew and spluttered on Nanya’s face, giving her another rush of Essence qi.

She was offended at how good it felt.

She was satisfied at how vehement his denial was.

She was mortified, fearing that by some arcane art, Ziyou Yung’s dreams were lying to her.

So she screamed out her deepest protest, “Why would you not?” Her eyes glared defiantly. “How could you not? Is it not a true man to take what he desires? To have it all without ever losing someone precious to him?”

“First of all, I don’t desire that.” Ziyou Yung removed her hands from his cheeks with a jerk, saying, “ I don’t know about other men. And second, this imaginary male you speak of sounds like a coward who can’t even commit to a single person.”

“Nonsense! If he can master all the beauties under the heavens, why would he settle for anything less? Would it not be our fair maiden’s absolute delight to give herself willingly to the singular best man in all of existence?”

Ziyou Yung shivered. The madlander boy was visibly shocked at, once again, finding the eerie parallel between her and the Youjin boy’s beliefs.

He did not like that; Nanya saw such as clear as day. He didn’t like that one bit. And Nanya adored how much he did not like that.

“By Gaia, no. No. NO!” The boy’s denial got more extreme, “That is the stupidest—sorry. But that sounds terrible. Will those girls really be happy sharing a husband? I don’t mean if they are supposed to be happy according to society or tradition, but would they be true to the word, happy? Touch your heart as I did mine and speak the truth. Would you be happy sharing?”

Nanya seethed, then boiled, steams of Origin qi leaving her flustered face. She wrestled with what was proper, fought with her inner voice, and lost horribly. The vixen could not find it in her heart to deceive herself, to deceive this strangely kind boy with half-hearted lies. She exhaled, settling into a frigid stillness.

“No way. He should have been ours!”

“I don’t like sharing,” Yung said, “And I don’t like to be shared, even if most men might. That would mean my partner doesn’t value me enough. That she’s fine with whatever I do. That she doesn’t care. And that is a huge problem.”

“Pray tell.” Nanya hoped he would. She hoped his honeyed mouth would never stop moving, that they would keep telling her that her feelings, for which she had felt utterly guilty for so long, ridiculed as petty and selfish by those her equal, were not wrong!

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

“If you want emotional and physical exclusivity from your many partners, but refuse to offer the same exclusivity in return to any of them, what does that say about you?”

“That the hero is too ambitious to be tied down by one mere mate?” So she replied, but even she didn’t believe it. Something was changing in her heart, but she couldn’t tell what.

“Christ, no. It means he is a weakling, a coward, and a slippery snake.”

“Your voice suggests envy. It is revolting.”

“I’m not jealous!” Yung exclaimed before speaking through a sad smile, “Listen here. You have these ‘heroes’ who assert they're too superior to settle for a single girl. That they simply can't ‘help themselves’ when they grow weary of the same fair woman, claiming it's merely their nature. That they just can’t resist.

“They're deluding themselves! You see, Nyanya, these insignificant individuals are what I classify as narcissists. They've built an inflated self-image that requires constant affirmation from the words of others. They want to ascertain a certain something, at all costs.” Ziyou Yung said, as his daydreams recalled a concept called “viral Youtube videos” of narcissistic people getting rejected in the most harmless ways and going absolutely mad.

“Then what ever is this elusive matter the narcissists would desire to ascertain?”

“That the world revolves around them. This baseless belief that, they are better than normal men. They deserve more and ought to give less. It is their heaven-mandated right to poise others to act according to their expectations. Meaning not only must they believe all their delusional crap, but others must too. But when others don’t, they react violently, losing control of their actions and emotions.”

Nanya put two and two together and squirmed in Ziyou Yung’s arms, trying to get out and point at him, “You speak of us! This better not have been an elaborate scheme to critique our lovely reactions. Such a distasteful individual you are.”

“No, no, okay. It’s good that you see the parallels between yourself and this destructive narcissist of a hero who cheated on you.”

“It is not we!”

“Oh, right. Okay, ‘not you.’ But I think your narcissism is merely over-exposed confidence in your looks. And see now; you’re engaging in a long debate with me about the issue. You’re trying to work things out in a healthy, organic manner. This ‘fictional hero’, on the other hand, is the opposite.”

“How so, oh clever-tongued servant?”

“He runs from rejection. He fears his self-image might be false, so he covers his ears and surrounds himself with only those who will say yes.”

“Such as his cocottes?”

“Exactly like those brainless harem bitches! And then he tries to force people who say otherwise to adhere to his selfish opinions like they should be a given. Like it’s common sense, and you’re the one who’s crazy for not thinking that. Especially so if the naysayer is someone whose opinion he truly cares about; not care as in respect as an equal, but care as in he is the party who sets the terms in the relationship. He might manipulate them emotionally, such as making the maiden feel bad about her choice, body, and beauty. First covertly, then overtly.”

“…. Truly so?” Nanya was shocked. It was as though Ziyou Yung was there when the tragic events had happened!

“Yeah. This fictional maiden may think the fault lies with her, but it’s actually the douchebag manipulating her gentle heart. Suddenly, her not forgiving his infidelity is the maiden’s fault. ‘Oh, she is so selfish, so egoistic!’ The maiden will first second guess herself, because indeed her entire worldview had collapsed. If things are allowed to continue for too long, this hero might even feel confident enough to physically abuse and exploit this fair maiden, whose faith in her own judgements wane day by day. Worse yet, rather than stand up for herself, she might eventually buy into this hero’s narrative and lose faith in her own worth as a graceful maiden with independent thought. Because to rebel is to be hurt, and surrendering is so much easier. That…. would be the greatest tragedy.”

“Tragedy.” Nanya savoured those words. She wrote them onto her fractured, flawless soul.

“Indeed. It’s not the maiden’s fault for wanting to be loved, for wanting to feel good enough. It’s all this twat of a hero’s fault for being a needy, self-entitled, pathetic little boy.”

“You are the boy! For we are more than good enough. We are the best!”

“I thought this was the tale of a fictional maiden?”

“It is!” Nanya said, then fell silent. The evening sun had set, and it was a crow’s flight into the night. The stars gleamed ceremoniously in the sky, shining a soft radiance.

Like the tender lake streams, the moments flowed with not a hint of mercy as Nanya imagined herself in another man’s embrace. In her hero’s strong arms.

So many moons ago had she found her heart and lost it on the same day. The insults, the inadequacy. Her absent parents and doting yet traditional elder brothers.

She imagined the excruciating days passing; all the waiting and worrying had bore that rotten fruit. And she dreamt herself falling, swallowed by a murky pit of doubt. Of loathing. Of insecurity.

But she was in Ziyou Yung’s arms, not the hero’s. They were dirty, weak, and scrawny. And it felt oh so utterly delightful.

Thus the time flowed once more. The same gentle speed, but Nanya could hardly feel it pass. Her Essence qi settled deep in her navel palace dantian as Ziyou Yung’s warm hug scorched her mind. The True qi roiled with joy. With liberation.

Neither spoke, but the silence was comforting. Nanya would remember this day until the world mourned her immortal charm.

She wished to stay like this forever.

But her newest servant finally kept his promise. He began wooing her.

Yung’s hands moved up, lightly brushing away a golden lock of hair from her face. He touched her chin, gazed into her eyes, and tilted her head ever so slightly up.

"Reject me. This is your last chance." The boy said with a grin, how audaciously daring his dreams were.

He fell silent, his words replaced by the intoxicating dance of their virgin lips. With a sensual urgency, he claimed her untouched yin in a deep, deep kiss that was a heady mix of spice and desire. He lingered there for moments that felt like eternity, staking his claim yet leaving her yearning for more. Then, in a crescendo of seduction, he drew back, leaving behind the tantalizing promise of his tongue.

“We had saved our chastity for all our lives. For our beloved fiancé. Our dearest childhood friend.” She spoke, feeling the tears trickle down her face. It was a farewell to a love she would never feel again, “But he is now bedding other women.”

“It’s not your fault,” Ziyou Yung murmured, capturing her lips once more, this time with a gentleness that belied the raw intensity of his previous kiss. His coarse lips left a mark on her tender red ones, a sweet sting she found herself craving. Boldly, her tongue ventured into his enticingly pungent mouth, claiming it as her own in a silent assertion of possession.

“What ever shall we do? Why have you made us sin, you creature of most vulgar nature? Now our beauty is soiled. Oh how we mourn our virtue.” She hugged his neck, feeling the pleasure of Heart qi coursing through her spine, and kissed her servant harder. “What shall you do, you wicked servant that corrupts us? Why does my conscience not cry?”

Ziyou Yung separated their entwined tongues, nicking his lips on her fangs. It didn’t cut, and the sharp bite felt oddly arousing. The boy grinned, “Maybe listen to it?”

“Ah.” The Essence qi raged, as did her primordial yin. It entered her body through her tongue and dove down her spine to her most sacred spot. It built, refined, furnished, and gushed.

“We feel strange,” Nanya’s eyes glossed over, and her face blushed a deep red. Tears gathered in her eyes, and her nails dug into Ziyou Yung’s clothes. Never in her life had she felt so strange. So desired! “No… ah!”

“Ahem.” Came a shy voice. It coughed, and the doors rattled with the rude intrusion of an Azure gale vulpine.

Ziyou Yung's heart jumped in his chest, but Nanya grabbed his sleeves and sucked him in. Her seat upon his lap felt cold, and dampness spread where Nanya's thighs straddled his pelvis. The vixen didn't stop; she pushed him down and ravaged his mouth like today would be her last day to live.

Ignored, Su Yafeng stood by the door awkwardly. She coughed again, trying to get her lady’s attention.

“Nanya, wait! Not in public—ugh!” The boy’s desire waned. Unacceptable!

“M-M’lady, please. The matriarch is going to kill me!”

Nanya paid her maid no heed. She did not feel guilty anymore. Her Essence qi flooded the bed, and she moaned out the most pleasurable sensation she had ever felt in her life.

“What the—” Ziyou Yung recoiled. Nanya tightened her clutching legs and stretched wide, her arms reaching for the sky and knees planting deep into the mattress. Her skin shone a hot, pink, molten gold.

“MMMMMMhhhhphhhhhhhhahnyaaaaaa~”

Her delicate nose elongated into a snout. She gasped, her human ears receding behind the newly grown golden fur. Her limbs shrunk and bent into a weird angle. Her palms morphed into paws, as did her feet.

Ten seconds later, an adorable golden fox was sitting on Ziyou Yung’s chest, licking his face incessantly.