Tang Yuehua

The music slowly faded, the final note lingering in the air like the scent of plum blossoms in winter. Tang Yuehua lifted her gaze, a faint smile playing at the corners of her lips.

Without meaning to, her eyes found the new guest, as if something about him called to her from across the room. Their eyes met, and for a moment, neither could look away.

She was immediately struck by his presence—so composed, so striking. His features held the elegance of ink brushed on silk: precise, yet effortlessly graceful. Even her aesthetic fatigue, worn dull from years of noble suitors seemed momentarily refreshed.

That Blue Silver bloodline… it really was an unfair advantage. But it wasn't just his looks. There was something else. A quiet familiarity that brushed against the edge of memory—warm and inexplicably close.

"You must be the new student," she said, her voice as soft and refined as the final note she had played, the faintest warmth threading through her smile.

Tang Yin inclined his head with poised dignity. "Yes, Miss Tang Yuehua. I go by the name Lu Tianyu. It's really a pleasure to meet you." He hesitated, then added with rare honesty, "Your music was truly… profound and insightful."

Yuehua's smile deepened, just slightly, her eyes lingering on him a moment longer than necessary. "Profound, is it?" she echoed softly. "That's a word rarely used with such sincerity. Most people listen with their ears… but you—" her voice dipped slightly, "you seem to listen with your heart."

Tang Yin's gaze didn't waver, though a flicker of surprise passed behind his eyes. "Perhaps it was your performance," he said. "It's thanks to Miss Yuehua. I've been struggling with a new variant technique for nearly a month… and just now, during your performance, I finally grasped its essence."

Yuehua was visibly flattered, her voice turning as gentle as flowing silk. "Then let me officially welcome you to the Moon Pavilion, Tianyu. If you're interested, I'll be teaching a guqin class next week. You're more than welcome to join my classes."

She paused for a heartbeat, her gaze lingering on him with a quiet invitation. "I think… it might really suit you."

He smiled faintly, catching her words. "It would be an honor to be taught by you Miss yuehua."

Tang Yuehua rose and stepped forward, her every movement flowing with noble grace.

As she drew closer, the space between them seemed to dissolve—not so much walked, as if drawn together by a quiet, invisible pull.

"Then perhaps… you already understand what this Pavilion truly offers," she said, her voice softer now, almost intimate. "It teaches more than just posture and poise. It clears away the noise, lifts the fog from the heart… and reveals what's been hidden beneath all that polished silence."

Her eyes lingered on his for a breath too long—searching, curious, as if wondering what secrets he carried under all that alluring calm.

"I have high expectations for you, Lu Tianyu," she said softly, her voice dipping into whisper.

Tang Yin held her gaze, his expression calm but unreadable. "I'll do my very best not to ever disappoint… Miss Yuehua."

But the pause before her name, and the way he said it—soft, almost reverent—wasn't missed. Their eyes met—not with intensity, but with something gentler. Curious. Searching. Familiar. And though neither moved, the air between them shimmered faintly.

Yuehua's expression shifted suddenly, a faint blush blooming across her porcelain cheeks. "Oh—no! I seem to have forgotten something important," she said, flustered. "Please pardon my abrupt retreat. I really must be going."

Before Tang yin could even respond, she turned and hurried away with a grace just shy of composed, her usual elegance slightly frayed at the edges.

Tang Yin's gaze lingered for a moment. He noticed the faint shimmer of dampness on the delicate fabric at the back of her dress, clinging slightly where it shouldn't.

He blinked. …Wait. Was that what I think it was?— Did she just get an orgasm from all the roleplay?

A slow, amused smile tugged at his lips. So Tang Yuehua is not as composed as she looks. Interesting. Very interesting.

Well, I didn't expect music class to turn into this kind of awakening but I'm not complaining. Maybe Moon Pavilion has more to offer than I thought. "Looks like I've found the direction for winning her heart," Tang Yin thought, a sly smile touching his lips.

He spent the afternoon immersed in etiquette lessons. Though he attended as a student, the instructors found themselves startled—no, humbled—by his natural grace and almost aristocratic bearing. He moved like someone born into nobility, not merely trained into it.

By evening, Tang Yin returned to the Tang Sect, mentally exhausted from a full day of polished smiles, carefully measured words, and refined posture.

All that acting… it's more draining than a full day of cultivation, he mused. But then again, who told me to seduce my own aunt?

Despite his fatigue, a certain image lingered in his mind—a faint blush, a hurried retreat, and that fleeting glimpse of damp silk between her legs.

He inhaled sharply. Damn. She really was affected...A surge of heat pooled in his lower abdomen. And now I'm the one suffering.

There was only one place left to go.

That night, Tang Yin slipped into Erlong's courtyard. Her room, as always, welcomed him with the scent of lavender and wild fire. She didn't ask questions—she never needed to. Her touch was enough to burn away the tension he carried.

The desire awakened by one mature beauty, he thought lazily afterward, can only be truly extinguished by another. Liu Erlong found herself quietly enjoying the rewards of the unspoken tension simmering between them.

And so, his days settled into a dangerous rhythm—mornings spent training with the girls, afternoons refining his "Lu Tianyu" persona and subtly deepening his bond with Tang Yuehua, and...each night ending in the arms of a lover he had already claimed.

And just like that, six months slipped by in the blink of an eye.