"Pick whatever you want," Riley said with a casual wave, his tone light but laced with the kind of confidence that ca from knowing his words weren’t an empty promise.
His wives’ faces lit up as if a festival had just begun.
"Yes! You’re really the best husband," one of them exclaid, unable to contain her excitent.
She bounced over to him and, without hesitation, wrapped her arms around his neck before planting a big, lingering kiss on his cheek.
Riley chuckled, but out of the corner of his eye, he caught Ruby and Anastasia exchanging a look—subtle, but sharp enough to hint at jealousy.
"I want this!" another wife declared, pointing eagerly at a silk dress dyed in deep crimson, embroidered with golden cranes that seed to take flight when the fabric moved.
"And that one..." ca a voice from behind her, indicating a set of ornate bangles that jingled like wind chis when touched.
"This looks pretty," murmured yet another, holding up a delicate jade hairpin carved into the shape of a blooming lotus.
Soon, they were moving in a flurry from one shop to the next, their arms gradually filling with parcels and trinkets.
Vendors, sensing the kind of wealth that didn’t ask for prices, hurried to present their finest wares.
Anastasia naturally took the lead as their tour guide.
She moved with the ease of soone who knew every street corner and every hidden alley worth exploring.
With an elegant sweep of her hand, she pointed out renowned jewelry houses, secret tea rooms, and exclusive boutiques tucked away behind carved wooden doors.
Her voice carried a lodic authority as she described the history of each place, and the group followed her like disciples trailing a master.
The afternoon sun filtered down through strings of silk lanterns hanging between the buildings, casting a warm glow over their path.
The air slled faintly of sweet lotus pastries and sandalwood incense drifting from a nearby shrine.
But as ti passed, Riley noticed sothing subtle yet telling—more and more people were shadowing their movents.
At first, it was just a few curious onlookers lingering by the shop entrances.
Then it beca rchants pretending to rearrange goods just to steal glances, and even robed cultivators pausing mid-step to watch from a distance.
It wasn’t Riley’s entourage of stunning won that drew them—it was Anastasia Sage herself.
Her reputation in this city was legendary. Marble and bronze statues bearing her likeness stood in plazas and courtyards, their eyes fixed on the horizon as if guiding the city forward.
She was a figure woven into its very history.
In this place, her na was spoken with reverence.
Her brilliance was known to all, and only the most ignorant or foolish could fail to recognize her.
And in this city, such fools were rare.
By the ti they reached the fifth shop, the crowd trailing them had nearly doubled.
The murmurs in the air grew louder, and Riley caught a few hushed words—fragnts of praise, awe, and speculation.
He smiled faintly, wondering how long it would be before soone decided to approach.
"Is the rumor true?"
"That man... is he really the Sword Fairy’s master?"
"I guess so. Just look at them—she’s practically glowing whenever she looks at him. That’s not just respect, that’s... sothing else. This is huge! The Sword Fairy, who never even smiles at anyone, looking like that at a man? The heavens must be shaking."
The murmurs spread quickly, darting from one cluster of people to another like sparks leaping from dry tinder.
By the ti Riley and his group passed through the next street, the whispers had already taken root.
So stared in disbelief, others with envy, and a few with unmasked curiosity.
But no matter how many eyes followed them, Riley and his companions moved with unshakable calm, as though the world around them was but a distant background.
Their shopping was leisurely but thorough. Anastasia led the way, her every step drawing admiration and reverence.
She was more than a beauty—she was the Sword Fairy, the woman whose sword had cut down immortal beasts and whose na alone could silence arrogant cultivators.
Statues of her adorned the city, each depicting her in a different mont of glory—one mid-strike, another standing with her sword raised high under the rain, another smiling faintly beneath a blooming sakura tree.
For the common folk, she was a living legend.
For the cultivators, she was a goal none could reach.
Yet here she was, guiding Riley through the city streets, speaking to him in a tone softer than most had ever imagined possible.
The hours passed without them noticing.
They browsed silk shops, ancient relic stores, spiritual herb pavilions, and even paused to watch street perforrs displaying minor cultivation arts for coins.
A young flute player’s gentle lody followed them for several blocks before fading into the hum of the crowd.
By the ti the sun began to sink toward the horizon, painting the city in warm gold and crimson, their bags were filled with trinkets, treasures, rare herbs, and fabrics of impossible softness.
"Beeeeee!" Fluffy’s high-pitched, drawn-out cry shattered the peaceful atmosphere.
The small creature sat on Riley’s shoulder, his tiny paws tapping impatiently against Riley’s neck, his round eyes glaring like a spoiled prince denied his due.
Riley chuckled, patting the little beast’s head. "Looks like soone’s about to stage a full rebellion. If we don’t feed him soon, we’ll be hearing this all the way back to the immortal realms."
"That’s easy enough to fix," Anastasia said, her lips curving into a faint smile. "Co to my courtyard, Riley. I’ll prepare a feast worthy of your wives... and your little tyrant here."
"Perfect. Lead the way, then," Riley replied with a nod.
They turned down a broad avenue that curved toward the center of the city.
The buildings here were older, their rooftops gilded with intricate patterns that caught the last rays of sunlight.
Stone lion statues stood guard at every street corner, their carved eyes seeming to follow passersby.
The scent of roasting ats and fragrant tea drifted through the air, mingling with the distant sound of temple bells.
All the while, the crowd’s murmurs followed them like a shadow.
So voices carried awe, others envy, but a few... a few were quieter, sharper, spoken in tones that hinted at interest far beyond idle gossip.
High above, in the upper balconies of an old tea house, a pair of unseen eyes watched their every step.
Riley didn’t look back, but the faint curl of his lips suggested he already knew.
A grand feast unfolded, lavish enough to be rembered for decades, and naturally, Riley and his wives beca the centerpiece of attention.
The banquet hall was a masterpiece in itself—soaring crystal chandeliers bathed the place in a warm golden light, while the scent of roasted spirit beast at and rare celestial fruits mingled in the air.
Rows of jade tables groaned under the weight of delicacies that could make even seasoned immortals’ mouths water.
Anastasia, ever the gracious host, took her place beside Riley, personally ensuring that the finest wines, aged for millennia in volcanic springs, and the rarest dishes were served to her guests of honor.
Every ti she smiled or leaned closer to Riley, the atmosphere shifted, as though an invisible thread of tension wove through the room.
All around, whispers swirled like restless wind.
"Is it true? That man is the Sword Fairy’s master?"
"It must be! Look at the way she speaks to him—so familiar, so fond. I’ve never seen her like this!"
The boldest guests exchanged knowing glances, but none dared voice their thoughts too loudly.
This was Anastasia Sage— the most formidable True Immortal in the realm— and to pry into her private affairs was to dance on the edge of a blade.
Still, curiosity gnawed at them.
One by one, guests began to subtly angle their seats closer, their wine cups serving as a flimsy excuse.
They pretended to chat idly with their companions, but their ears strained toward the main table.
Even the attendants pouring wine moved more slowly than usual, their eyes flicking toward Riley as if hoping to catch so telling expression.
Every laugh from Riley, every glimr of amusent in Anastasia’s eyes, beca fuel for speculation.
Ruby and the other wives were radiant, drawing their own share of envious stares.
The won in the crowd asured themselves against Riley’s wives, and the n, unable to help themselves, compared their own appearances to the mysterious, handso man seated beside the Sword Fairy.
At one point, the musicians in the corner missed several notes, their fingers faltering on the strings.
Whether it was because the wine had gone to their heads or because they, too, were listening in, no one could say.
The whole feast was a strange balance between elegance and restrained chaos—everyone pretending to enjoy the evening, while the real entertainnt lay in the mystery of who Riley truly was.
Reviews
All reviews (0)