Manipulative Harem God

"Please, if you could just hear us out, it won't take long. Our Abbot has assured us of your relevance in this matter," Jian chimed in, trying to bridge the gap with a gentle tone.

"You are disrupting my day and disturbing everyone here. This is neither the time nor the place for such discussions!" the woman's irritation grew, her brow furrowed in annoyance.

"We apologize for any inconvenience, but it's urgent. We wouldn't insist if it weren't important," Huo added, his voice low and apologetic.

"Indeed, we understand the disturbance, but the issue at hand involves matters only you can resolve with our Abbot. We assure you it's of a peaceful and beneficial nature," Monk Sheng insisted, maintaining his composure.

"I care little for your assurances! You've said enough, and I've listened more than I care to. Now, if you respect anything at all, you will leave me in peace," she said, her voice stern, signaling the end of her patience.

Realizing the futility of further persuasion in such a public setting and the negative attention it was garnering, Monk Sheng exchanged glances with his companions.

"We will respect your wishes and retreat for now. However, should you reconsider, our temple doors remain open to you," he concluded, nodding respectfully.

With a final, respectful bow, the monks reluctantly stepped back, allowing Murong Jinxiang to return to her day.

However, the air remained filled with whispers and speculative looks from the other patrons, who now resumed their seats with keen interest, their eyes still fixed on Murong Jinxiang as she sighed heavily in annoyance behind the counter.

______

As Zhang Wei strode through the ornate gate, entering the Pavilion alongside Xiong Mei, his expression hardened as he spotted the approaching monks.

His gaze sharpened, suspicion and wariness flitting across his features.

'Cultivators in this place?' His thoughts churned as he halted momentarily.

Monk Sheng radiated the distinct energy of the Soul Warming Realm, a level of cultivation that was not commonly flaunted in such public settings.

The outer disciples, Jian and Huo, were enveloped in the less potent but still aura of the Core Formation Realm, which shimmered subtly around them.

Memories of Monk Lian Shena and He Ming, whom he had previously encountered, flashed through Zhang Wei's mind.

They were undoubtedly more senior than Monk Liang, raising questions about the presence of such cultivators in this locality.

"They are here again?" Qi Xiang's voice broke through Zhang Wei's contemplations, his tone laced with concern and a slight frown creasing his forehead.

Choosing to disregard the monks, Zhang Wei pressed forward, his steps deliberate.

As he passed, Monk Sheng accidentally brushed against his shoulder.

This seemingly trivial contact was enough to halt Zhang Wei momentarily, his brows arching in surprise as he processed nothenless.

_____

After stepping outside, Monk Sheng paused and glanced back at his juniors with a serious expression. "Be careful, the young man we just encountered is at the Core Formation realm."

"Huh? Should we inform the elders?" Jian asked, his brow furrowed in concern.

Huo shook his head, his voice steady and firm. "Don't forget what the elder said, we can't use force. That's our Reverend Sister; we are not here to take an aggressive stance. However, that man must be reported to the monastery and investigated."

Monk Sheng stood silently for a moment, deep in thought, before nodding in agreement.

With a collective sense of purpose, they all turned and walked toward the forest, their robes fluttering slightly as they disappeared into its dense, enveloping depths.

_____

"Xiaowei, why didn't you let me know you were coming earlier? It's getting late; we'll be closing soon." Murong Jinxiang glided towards them, a tray balanced delicately in her hands, adorned with four glasses of water which she expertly arranged on the table.

"!"

Zhang Wei's eyes instinctively narrowed at her.

The woman who arrived was Murong Jinxiang, having a complex history with Zhang Wei.

As she approached him, the black Cheongsam clung to her like a whispering shadow, splitting at her thighs to reveal slender, long ivory legs that beckoned with a subtle promise.

Her every step in red high heels echoed a mesmerizing rhythm, akin to the allure of her softly tinted lips—a warmth contrasting enticingly against her porcelain skin, adding to her charm.

The Cheongsam's sleek lines and shimmering fabric caressed her form with a sinful grace, accentuating the curves of her waist and hips in a dance of forbidden elegance.

Each movement hinted at a deeper story, its high collar framing her neck with an air of ancient mystery.

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Her long, ebony hair cascaded like a waterfall of silk, framing a face of sexy beauty.

Cheeks kissed by a hint of blush complemented eyes that held an innocent yet knowing gaze, drawing one into the labyrinthine depths of her emotions.

Her hands moved with a delicate yet purposeful grace, gestures as fluid as her eyelashes that fluttered with each motion, teasingly revealing glimpses of an ethereal and mature aura.

"Sister Xi, am I no longer welcome here? Alas, is it time for me to seek another home?" Zhang Wei held her gaze steadily, battling the temptation to let his eyes wander to her generously bulging chest, which strained against the confines of their prison, eager to break free.

Her eyes were captivating, but he found the views just south of them even more charming.

"Oh? But it seems you've already found yourself a new sanctuary." Murong Jinxiang couldn't hide her discomfort and suspicion as she observed Xiong Mei lounging on the couch.

Mei sat with an air of tranquility, her elbows propped on the table for support, exuding a surprising calm.

They were seated at a secluded table tucked away in a corner for added privacy.

On one side, two wooden stools stood side by side, and opposite them stretched a long, singular couch melded into the wall.

Zhang Wei couldn't resist; he turned and squinted at Xiong Mei, scrutinizing her from various angles. "From which angle does she appears... Reliable?" he mused aloud, prompting Murong Jinxiang to shake her head in resigned amusement.

"I feel as if my cousin's head is suddenly sprouting green," she said, her smile tinged with irony.

"It was always green," Zhang Wei retorted dryly, correcting her.