My Xianxia Harem Life

Riley walked over to the makeshift bed they had arranged inside the spacious tent.

Despite its temporary nature, the bedding was nothing short of luxurious.

A thick cushion lay on top, soft and inviting, clearly crafted with great care.

The fabric shimmered faintly under the dim lighting, and the stuffing—Diana noticed—had a certain spring and lightness to it.

Not ordinary cotton or straw.

No, this had to be made from the feathers of some rare and powerful monster bird.

Only someone with access to elite resources could obtain such materials.

She sat beside him slowly, her hand brushing over the cushion's surface, confirming her suspicion.

"What's your real cultivation base, Ben?" she asked, her tone quiet but direct.

Her gaze didn't waver from him, eyes narrowed slightly in thought.

She had been piecing things together ever since they entered the secret realm, and the clues were finally starting to fit.

There were two beds, pushed together seamlessly, forming a wide surface that could easily accommodate five people if needed.

It was overkill for a temporary shelter in such a dangerous place—but that only emphasized how out of place Riley—or rather, "Ben"—really was.

Riley chuckled softly, unbothered by the question.

"Why ask something you've already judged for yourself, Diana?" he replied, his voice relaxed, almost teasing.

She tilted her head, her lips curling slightly. "Void Tribulation Realm," she said, more as a statement than a guess.

"But I don't know anyone at that level who hides behind a mask and plays the game of mystery. Most cultivators at that stage are too proud for tricks."

Riley smiled again, but this time there was a hint of something deeper behind his eyes—something ancient, something weighty.

"That's only here," he said, tapping his temple lightly, then gesturing around them.

"In this secret realm, it's easier to move unseen. No need for titles, expectations, or unnecessary enemies. But once we leave... you'll know exactly who I am."

He leaned closer, his voice dropping a notch, smooth and intimate.

"You're my woman now, Diana. And I have no intention of letting my women slip away from my sight."

His words sent a flutter through her chest, though she didn't show it. Not entirely.

She looked at him carefully, searching for a lie, for an exaggeration—but all she found was certainty.

"And what if I don't want to be someone's woman?" she asked, folding her arms, testing him.

Riley's grin widened just a bit, confident but not arrogant.

"Then you're free to walk away, Diana. But somehow, I don't think you will."

She didn't answer. Not right away.

Because for the first time in a long while, she wasn't sure if she even wanted to.

A brief silence fell between them, thick and almost intimate in its stillness.

The only sounds were the occasional rustle of the tent's fabric in the wind and the distant crackle of the fire outside.

Shadows from the lantern swayed gently across the walls, softening the hard lines of the world outside and wrapping the two in a quiet, private cocoon.

Riley lay back against the cushion, watching Diana with a calm, unreadable gaze.

His body was relaxed, but his eyes were alert—waiting, studying.

Eventually, he broke the silence with a low, deliberate voice.

"I spent all of yesterday taking the lead," he said, tone casual, yet firm.

"Now, I want you to decide what we're going to do."

Diana hesitated, her fingers tightening slightly around the edge of her robe.

She looked down, as if trying to find clarity in the folds of the fabric.

Her heart was beating faster now—not out of fear, but from the sudden shift of power, the responsibility Riley had quietly passed to her.

He was strong. He was mysterious. And yet, at this moment, he was giving her control.

"..." She didn't speak right away.

"I'm waiting, Diana," Riley added, a trace of amusement curling into his voice. "Don't leave me hanging."

She exhaled softly, her breath shaky though she tried to steady it.

Her eyes lifted to meet his.

"What if I just want to sleep?" she said, forcing a faint, playful smile. "Maybe I'll call it a night and tell you I owe you one, Ben."

Riley chuckled, not mocking, but knowing. "You could," he said easily. "But I don't think you will. People like us—cultivators who've clawed their way to the top—we value our words more than anything. A promise is as binding as a soul contract, especially for someone like you."

He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked at her with piercing focus.

"Still," he added with a small smile, "I wouldn't mind being surprised. Show me your true colors, Diana. No masks. No pretense. Don't be like me."

The words hung in the air like a challenge. Or perhaps… an invitation.

Diana didn't move right away.

She sat frozen in place, her lips parted slightly as if forming a reply that never came.

Inside, her thoughts raced.

She had never felt quite like this before—not when fighting, not when cultivating, not even when she had faced death on the battlefield.

This was something different.

It wasn't fear. It wasn't pressure.

It was the weight of choice—and the freedom to act on her own terms.

She looked at Riley again. The man was powerful.

That much she'd known the moment she saw him tear through those spirit beasts without blinking.

But it wasn't just strength that intrigued her. It was how he carried it. No arrogance.

No desperation to prove himself. Just calm certainty. Dangerous and composed.

And now, he was giving her the reins.

A minute passed. One more.

Then another.

And finally, she moved.

Her fingers loosened. Her expression cleared.

She rose from the cushion slowly, gracefully, as if shedding her indecision with every step.

The air around her shifted—not with spiritual energy, but with something subtler.

A quiet resolve. Confidence reborn.

She walked over to Riley, step by step, until she stood right in front of him.

Her robe rustled faintly, and her eyes met his without wavering.

"Then I'll show you," she said softly.

Riley didn't respond at first. He simply smiled—and waited.

A few breaths passed—measured, quiet, charged with something unspoken—before Diana moved.

Her fingers reached for the clasp of her robe, slow and deliberate, and then with a soft motion, she let it fall.

The rich purple fabric slid off her shoulders like water, pooling silently around her ankles.

What remained was her bare form, radiant in the dim, flickering glow of the lanterns.

She stood upright, her back straight, her chin lifted—not in defiance, but in pride.

There was no effort to hide herself, no attempt to cover or shield. She was past shame.

Past doubt.

The air in the tent shifted.

Riley's gaze fixed on her, his expression unreadable at first—too still, too quiet.

But in his eyes, something stirred. Hunger, yes, but also reverence.

Diana wasn't just a woman standing naked in front of him.

She was fire incarnate, strength wrapped in softness, power clothed in beauty.

Her body was exquisite.

Full, toned, feminine in every way—but it wasn't just her curves or the swell of her hips or the graceful arc of her shoulders that made her breathtaking.

It was how she carried herself. Every inch of her skin radiated certainty.

This was no longer the shy, guarded woman from before.

This was someone reborn through choice.

Diana could feel the change in herself too.

She had always known she was beautiful—men had told her so, stared at her, chased after her—but beauty without purpose had never meant much to her.

Tonight, though, she understood something different: that her beauty, her body, her presence… they were not just gifts.

They were weapons. Tools. Expressions of who she was, of what she wanted.

And what she wanted, right now, was him.

She took a step closer, unhurried. Her eyes never left Riley's.

"I may not know your real name yet," she said quietly, her voice low and steady.

"But I gave myself to you—and that choice wasn't made lightly. I'm not a girl who regrets her actions, Riley. I won't pretend this didn't happen. I won't let you pretend, either."

He didn't interrupt her. His gaze was intense now, his jaw tight, but he remained still—watching, listening.

"Whatever brought us together—fate, coincidence, or the twisted nature of this secret realm—it doesn't matter," Diana continued.

"The truth is, something passed between us. Something more than just pleasure. And now... you're responsible for that. For me."

Her voice didn't waver. There was no desperation, only truth.

She moved closer, the warmth of her bare skin now just inches away from his.

"And I'll be responsible for you, too. For whatever this is, whatever it becomes. I won't run away from it. Neither should you."

The silence that followed wasn't awkward—it was heavy, intimate, brimming with intensity.

Riley let out a slow breath. "That's more like it," he murmured, voice low.

"I've awakened," she corrected softly. "I know what I want. And right now, I want you. Not just your body… but all of you."

He looked at her—really looked—and for the first time, something flickered across his expression.

A crack in the mask. Something raw. Real.

He reached for her slowly, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear.

"Then come to me," he said. "Make this moment yours."

And just like that, the space between them vanished.