Immortal Paladin-136A Delicate Encounter

But my Divine Sense never lies. Qi patterns don’t lie. Soul imprints? Definitely don’t lie.

That was Lu Gao.

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And he was absolutely, unmistakably, painfully pretending he wasn’t.

I coughed, fake, dramatic, and unnecessary. Just enough to signal I knew.

Tried using Voice Chat. Nothing.

That was weird. Voice Chat always worked. I imagined I could use it even through dimensional rifts, during spatial collapses, even while being swallowed by a sandworm.

But here?

Nothing.

Alright, fallback plan: plain old Qi Speech.

Still silence.

Double weird.

“It looks like it wasn’t my imagination then.”

So not only was he looking like he stepped out of a Xianxia-themed hostess simulator, but something was actively jamming our communication. That wasn’t a good sign.

I couldn’t just go: “Hey bro, what’s up with the new curves and that dress that could kill a monk’s vows from fifty paces?” Not here. Not with all these eyes watching.

So I did the next best thing.

I raised an eyebrow, turned up the arrogance, and said, “You. Serve me tea.”

His face contorted, mortification and disbelief dancing across his expression like duelists.

Still, he bowed and scurried off like the trained waitress he probably wasn’t. That was... troubling. I turned to the matriarch of the house, a woman cloaked in silk and subtle menace, and offered a half-smile.

“Private room,” I said simply. “Please.”

“Of course, Honored Guest,” she replied with a bow deeper than most nobles ever gave me. “We’ll prepare the Joy Chamber.”

Joy Chamber?

Just a normal room would do… Uuhh… On second thought, whatever this chamber was, might be preferable, since I’d want complete privacy.

“Lead the way,” I said.

I could feel Lu Gao’s soul trying to leave his body as I followed the matriarch down the hallway, heels clicking like a countdown.

It was going to be a very long conversation.

The hallway to the private chambers was a blur of gauzy curtains and perfumed air. The matriarch led the way, her every step radiating the smug poise of someone who ran the most exclusive establishment in the region… and knew it.

“Honored Guest,” she purred, glancing over her shoulder, “would you like me to send more girls to serve you? We have several specialists trained in various... disciplines.”

I offered a noncommittal shrug. “No need.”

She didn’t take the hint.

“We have a few top girls who would be thrilled to attend to someone like yourself. Lu Ling is new. Just became a waitress, in fact. Her hands are still untrained in the finer arts of hosting.” She gave me a look that said you deserve more.

“She’s quite shy too,” the matriarch added slyly. “Some men enjoy that. But still, if you're looking for a truly unforgettable experience, might I suggest…”

She launched into an impressively poetic sales pitch about her girls, listing their specialties like one might list rare treasures at auction.

“One is an expert harpist, another was taught by a courtesan from the Flowing Moon Pavilion. One can balance a wine jug on her…”

“I’m here more for the pleasure of conversation,” I interrupted gently, turning on just enough charm to sound genuine. “And astrology, actually. Horoscopes. Moon cycles. You know, compatibility signs.”

She blinked. “Ah. Of course. Compatibility signs.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then she bowed again, somehow not laughing, which I respected. “We’ve prepared the Joy Chamber. Your tea will be brought shortly.”

The chamber lived up to its name. Warm lighting, plush seating, incense burning in slow curls from a lotus-shaped burner in the corner. The whole room felt like it had been crafted for sensual poetry readings or awkward noble trysts.

And there she came.

Lu Gao. Or rather, Lu Ling.

His—her?—face was calm, if stiff, carefully avoiding eye contact. The blush on her cheeks could’ve been from shame or rouge. She carried the teapot like it weighed a thousand jin, kneeling too gracefully to pour my cup.

I watched the tea stream into porcelain, a thin wisp of steam rising with the scent of jasmine.

“Thank you,” I said, voice low.

Lu Ling didn’t look up. “Yes, esteemed guest.”

My lips twitched.

I could feel it, how much he wanted to crawl into a hole and die. And yet, he poured the tea perfectly, hands steady despite everything. The outfit, the makeup, the polite submissive posture… it was all theater. Unwilling theater.

And he was stuck in it.

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I took a sip.

“Delightful,” I murmured.

He winced.

Yup. That was definitely Lu Gao.

We were finally alone.

Just me, my disciple dressed in silks, and enough scented incense to make a grown monk weep.

I sat cross-legged on a cushion that was far too plush, trying not to focus on how sweet the air tasted. It wasn’t just jasmine. Something thick. Subtle… dangerous. I knew this feeling. Someone had laced the incense with aphrodisiac powder. Strong, too. My thoughts started slowing down, and I could already feel it stirring under.

Shit.

Across from me, Lu Gao… Lu Ling, as he was apparently calling himself now, was kneeling demurely as he poured me another cup. His cheeks were pink. His fingers trembled just slightly on the teapot handle.

I felt a stab of guilt. This wasn’t right.

I reached up, pinched the burning end of the incense stick between two fingers, and snuffed it out with a sharp flick. The scent died instantly. Then, under my breath, I murmured Cleanse, once for myself, then again for him.

The fog cleared from my head like a wave breaking against stone. Lu Gao blinked. He straightened a little, as if a weight had lifted.

Then, without a word, he… or rather, she… reached up and slid her robe off one shoulder.

I spat out my tea.

“Dude.” I coughed. “I know it’s you, Lu Gao.”

It was a bit tricky switching pronouns in my head, but this sure was awkward.

Lu Gao tilted his head, lashes fluttering like some kind of helpless flower. “But my name is Lu Ling, esteemed guest…”

I stared at him. “Are you… Are you trying to gaslight me right now?”

“Why would I gaslight you, Esteemed Guest?” he asked with perfect innocence. Too perfect. "What even is gas... light? You mean gassy light? How does that even work?"

I narrowed my eyes. For a second, I really considered whether he’d been hit on the head or had developed some sort of amnesia. But I didn’t need to guess. I could feel the lie. His words tasted sour in my Divine Sense. I reached forward and pulled the robe back over his shoulder. He flinched, but I gave him a flat look.

“You do know that traditional courtesans don’t immediately start disrobing after pouring tea, right?”

He blinked. “They… don’t?”

“No, Lu Gao. They don’t. What the hell are you thinking, man? Don't worry, I am not ashamed of you or anything, so can you please stop acting up? It's just... embarrassing.”

He looked down at the floor, cheeks fully flushed now. It was somewhere between shame and mortification. Maybe both. Probably more.

I leaned back and sighed. “You’ve got a lot of explaining to do.”

He nodded. Still refused to meet my eyes.

Lu Gao stared at me, confused and maybe a little defensive. “How do you even know that courtesans don’t disrobe? This is basically a brothel, isn’t it? How else are they supposed to… You know, do the deed?”

I paused, staring into my now-cold tea. This wasn’t a question I ever expected from Lu Gao.

“Well,” I began, leaning forward and folding my hands over my knee, “in my short time with Xin Yune, we, uh… let’s just say we wrecked enough brothels and caused enough scandals to know how courtesans usually act.”

Lu Gao blinked. “You wrecked brothels?”

“It’s a long story that happened in the span of one night,” I replied, waving a hand. “I was drunk as hell back then, so my memories might be blurry. Huh? I think I might have said something rude to some lord’s son who had a thing for bunny ears and a whip. But that’s beside the point.”

I looked him in the eye. “The important thing is this: human beings… yes, even courtesans… have something they call self-respect. Not everyone in this kind of establishment is here just to tumble with every customer that walks in. The term prostitute is usually derogatory, but courtesan? Entertainer? Those carry a very different meaning, especially in a country like this.”

He looked down, face flushed, clearly mulling that over.

I continued, softer now, “Most people in this line of work don’t just offer the pleasures of the flesh. They master the arts: music, painting, storytelling, and even politics sometimes. Do you think the Purple Blossom girls dress like that just for show? Their dance routines could rival martial arts. Their conversation is more refined than half the so-called scholars I’ve met. At least that’s how I remembered it back in the Imperial Capital.”

He tilted his head slightly, listening now instead of reacting.

I chuckled, more to myself. “Actually, if I think about it… considering my old life... music, arts, dance... I probably relate more to the courtesans and entertainers than I do to the so-called teachers or sages.”

He raised an eyebrow. “So you’re saying… you’re one of them?”

I grinned. “Nah. I just said I relate more. They teach people how to dream. Most teachers just make people memorize things.”

Lu Gao gave a reluctant smile. “That… actually makes sense.”

“Of course it does,” I said, leaning back. “I’ve been there, just saying…”

He rolled his eyes, and for a moment, I could see the old Lu Gao in there: sarcastic, grounded, and just a little tired.

The tension broke, if only slightly. But I could tell he was still holding something back.

And I had a feeling we were just scratching the surface of whatever hell he’d been dragged into.

“Okay,” I said, setting the tea down and straightening my robe. “Let’s get to it.”

Lu Gao looked at me, dead serious, and asked, “Should I disrobe?”

I nearly flipped the tea tray off the table.

“Idiot,” I snapped, smacking the back of his head lightly. “Why is that the first thing your brain jumps to? Get your head out of the gutter.”

He rubbed the back of his head with a pout that looked entirely wrong on his current face. “Sorry, sorry. It’s the incense, I swear.”

“No, it’s your lack of mental discipline. Even if you’re stuck like this, don’t let it mess with your brain.”

“Easy for you to say, Master,” he muttered, folding his arms under… his new chest. “You’re more handsome than usual today.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Not addressing that. Moving on.”

He smirked, and for a moment, I had a brief vision of strangling him with the silk sash off his own robe. I took a deep breath and sat back down.

“All right. Jokes aside… what happened? Where are Alice and Joan? And what’s going on with your condition?”

“That’s the thing,” he said, his voice dropping into something conflicted. “I… don’t know.”

I frowned. “Elaborate.”

He scratched his cheek, looking anywhere but at me. “I remember dreaming. It was like I saw Aili Si… er, I can’t pronounce her name right. I remember her yelling. Then suddenly, she forced me to use a Great Teleportation Scroll.”

“What?”

“I didn’t even have time to think,” he said, his voice a little shaky. “The scroll was in my hand. I activated it. And the next thing I knew… I was face-down in the middle of a burning desert, dying of thirst, and threatened by a very real possibility of death.”

That tracked. I crossed my arms and listened as he went on.

“I wandered for a while. Nearly got eaten by a beast twice. Next thing I remember is being hauled onto some kind of sand creature with a caravan of women dressed like… well, like this.”

He gestured to his current attire with no small amount of shame.

“And you were… like this when you woke up?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I think it was that damned floating skull. It must’ve done something before ditching me. I can’t even channel Qi consistently. It comes and goes like a broken faucet.”

I winced. “And the girls from Purple Blossom helped you?”

“Yeah. And now I’m in debt. Big debt.”

I sighed, rubbing my temples. “Of course you are.”

So Alice had somehow thrown him to safety… with a Great Teleportation Scroll, no less. That meant she was in danger, real danger, and fast enough to not be able to explain. And Lu Gao’s condition… Qi disruption, forced transformation, loss of contact with Voice Chat… all of it pointed toward something foul.

Something deliberate.

I stared at Lu Gao, or rather, “Lu Ling,” and felt the pit in my stomach grow heavier.

There were more pieces to this puzzle. And I didn’t like the shape it was starting to take.

I sighed and leaned forward, folding my hands. “Okay. Here’s the deal.”

Lu Gao straightened a little, looking unsure.

“You’re going to tell me everything. No skipping. No vague statements. I want it from the start.”

He swallowed, glanced toward the incense burner I had already snuffed out earlier, and then nodded.

“Fine,” he said. “It started during our travels… back from Yellow Dragon City. I didn’t say anything then, but I’ve been having these… nightmares. Ever since we passed through the southern ridge, something’s been inside my head.”

I frowned. “Nightmares?”

“Yeah. Like… something whispering to me while I sleep. No matter how much I cultivated or meditated, I couldn’t shake it. It persisted even after I learned Mana Road Cultivation. I thought it was stress. Maybe guilt. But then it got worse in the desert. The heat didn’t help. I was disoriented. Delirious. And that’s when I heard its voice clearly.”

He shuddered slightly. “It offered me a deal. Said it would save me. I thought it was just heat madness. I mean, I was dying out there, hallucinating. So I agreed.”

“You signed a contract,” I said grimly.

“Yeah,” he admitted, voice low. “I think I did. Not with blood or anything like that. It was… like my soul burned and something locked into place. After that, I blacked out. Next thing I knew, that floating skull had scared away a black-armored demon thing. He said I owed him now. He said it’d keep me safe in exchange for a little ‘mortal freedom’ and a few ‘small spiritual concessions.’”

“That thing made you sign a soul-binding pact and turned you into this for his own amusement,” I muttered, angry now. “That explains the Qi sputtering. And your gender lock.”

“It’s been… rough,” Lu Gao said, eyes dropping. “Especially since the skull vanished right after. Haven’t seen him since. Can’t undo anything. Can’t cultivate properly. I’m stuck like this.”

I let out a long, low breath.

All right. I knew what this was.

Another soul-battle. Another parasite clinging to someone close to me. These damn creatures… entities older than reason… loved hitching rides in my people. But this time, I wasn’t unprepared.

I already had experience.

I looked Lu Gao in the eye. “I know what I have to do.”

He looked up, hopeful. “You’re going to fight it?”

“Yeah. I’m going in. Direct soul invasion. I’ll confront the contract directly and rip the damn thing out.”

His eyes lit up with excitement. “So we’re doing it again? Like the time with Gu Jie?”

“I should be able to finish this in a jiffy. Just stay still. Don’t resist. This’ll be smoother if you’re cooperative.”

I placed my palm against his forehead, my Qi Sense reaching through the layers of soul energy and twisted bindings already starting to manifest.

“Are you ready, Lu Gao?”

He clenched both fists and shouted, “Do it, Master! Get inside me!”

I froze.

My hand just hovered there.

I stared at him.

“…What’s your problem, dude? Context. Context!”

He blinked innocently. “What?”

“Say ‘enter my soulscape’ or something! Not… not that.”

He turned red in the face. “You knew what I meant!”

“Yeah, but did the walls know? Spirits are listening!”

We sat in awkward silence for a beat.

Then I closed my eyes and activated the soul projection.

“Let’s just get this over with.”

Divine Possession!