The interior of the House of Cherry Blossoms was unexpectedly pleasing to the eye.

  Soft lantern light bathed polished wooden floors, and the air carried a faint floral fragrance that settled the nerves without dulling the senses. Women in elegant robes moved gracefully among their guests, laughter and low conversation weaving together into a carefully curated atmosphere. Even to my untrained eyes, it was obvious that this place had been designed with meticulous care.

  Tao Fang followed quietly as I approached the counter.

  A gentle woman stood behind it, her posture straight and her smile warm but professional. She inclined her head slightly.

  “Welcome to the House of Cherry Blossoms,” she said. “My name is Yan Jin. I serve here as a representative and etiquette instructor.”

  I glanced at her instinctively.

  [Yan Jin][Level 20]

  That gave me pause. Her level was roughly the same as Tao Yu’s, which was unusual for someone who claimed to be nothing more than an etiquette teacher. Around us, most of the women hovered between [Level 5] and [Level 10], confirming that Yan Jin stood out, even if only slightly.

  She turned her attention to Tao Fang and smiled more warmly. “Elder Tao, welcome back. I hope yesterday treated you well.”

  So they knew each other.

  “Ah, Mistress Yan,” Tao Fang replied with a polite nod. “You are too kind. I wish you a pleasant day all the same.”

  I looked back to Yan Jin. “Do you practice martial arts?”

  She blinked in mild surprise, then laughed softly. “Only a little exercise. Something I learned in my youth to keep my body healthy. Nothing worth mentioning.”

  Tao Fang glanced at me and murmured approvingly, “Senior truly has sharp eyes.”

  I ignored the praise. My attention was elsewhere.

  If a spider demon capable of subduing the Four Thunder Hooves was hiding here, it wouldn’t be someone at Level 20, unless they could conceal their strength. That possibility lingered unpleasantly in my mind.

  Yan Jin folded her hands. “How may I assist you, honored guest?”

  “I’d like you to reserve a large private room,” I said evenly. “And have every woman in the house meet me there.”

  Her smile froze, just slightly.

  “That would be… difficult,” she said carefully.

  “They’ll be compensated,” I replied. “It won’t take more than five minutes per group. Easy money.”

  Yan Jin studied me for a moment, then nodded. “Please wait.”

  She disappeared behind the counter.

  I turned to Tao Fang. “What business did you have here yesterday?”

  The old man coughed lightly. “I met someone. As for the details… I would prefer to keep them to myself.”

  I raised my hands. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to pry.”

  He relaxed. “No offense taken.”

  Yan Jin soon returned. “May I ask how you wish to proceed?”

  “Lead the way to the private room, first.”

  She guided us through the building. The layout was straightforward, corridors branching neatly until we arrived at an extravagant private room. Silk curtains framed the walls, and low tables surrounded a wide open space.

  Yan Jin lit a stick of incense, the scent curling gently through the air.

  “May I move things around?” I asked.

  “You may,” she replied. “But anything you break, you will have to compensate.”

  “That’s fair.”

  I turned to Tao Fang. “Help me clear the center.”

  Together, we shifted furniture aside until the room was emptied, leaving only a single chair in the middle. I placed it carefully, then sat down.

  “This is how we’ll do it,” I said to Yan Jin. “You’ll bring the women in groups of ten. I’ll inspect them. If I don’t choose anyone, they leave, and the next group enters. Even if five minutes aren’t fully used, I’ll still pay their fee.”

  Yan Jin considered this, then nodded slowly.

  I reached into my robe and produced a pouch of mortal coins, the payment I had earned escorting a certain mother and daughter to safety in Xincheng. I placed it on the table and slid it toward her.

  “Is this enough?”

  She opened the pouch briefly, then closed it with a composed smile. “It is more than sufficient.”

  “How many courtesans does the House of Cherry Blossoms have in total?”

  Yan Jin answered without hesitation. “Thirty-two.”

  She paused, then added carefully, “However, three are unavailable. One is unwell and resting. The remaining two are our highest-class courtesans. They do not usually respond to… requests such as this. I doubt they would consider it worth their time.”

  I nodded slowly.

  I couldn’t force anyone to come, but this was a sensitive time. The moment she said highest-class and refused to come, suspicion crept in like an itch beneath the skin.

  I turned to Tao Fang. “Bring the two highest-class courtesans here first.”

  Yan Jin’s composure cracked.

  “That is not what we discussed,” she said sharply. “If you insist on harassing our top courtesans, I will inform the madam. And if this continues, you will have trouble with the authorities.”

  I met her gaze calmly. “There’s no need for that. I’m acting on behalf of the lord’s authority.”

  It was a lie, mostly.

  But with Meng Rong behind me, it was a lie that could walk on two legs.

  Yan Jin stared at me, clearly weighing my words.

  I decided not to leave room for hesitation.

  “We are looking for a demonic human,” I said, lowering my voice. “One known for kidnapping women. He leaves marks before he strikes.”

  Another lie.

  But a useful one.

  Yan Jin’s face drained of color. “Then shouldn’t we summon the lord’s soldiers immediately?”

  Before I could answer, Tao Fang spoke up, his tone grave. “That would only alert the target. If this demonic human is hiding here, soldiers would cause panic and drive it into hiding. Discretion is required.”

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Yan Jin clenched her fingers. After a long moment, she nodded stiffly. “…Very well. I will bring the two courtesans first.”

  “Tao Fang,” I said, “go with her.”

  The old man smiled faintly and gestured politely. “Please trust him, Mistress Yan. This is Lord Yakuza, the Man of Chivalry!”

  Yan Jin blinked in surprise and looked back at me. “Yakuza Man? The one spoken of in recent rumors? The martial artist who subdued an arrogant guest from another domain?”

  I sighed inwardly.

  “Rumors tend to exaggerate,” I said. “But yes. That would be me.”

  Her expression turned complicated, a mix of wariness and reluctant respect. She said nothing more and left with Tao Fang.

  I waited.

  When they returned, they were accompanied by two women whose beauty was, objectively speaking, breathtaking. Their skin was flawless, their figures graceful, and every movement they made seemed calculated to draw the eye.

  Frankly, I still preferred 2D women.

  One of them frowned the moment she entered. “My beauty rest was interrupted for this?”

  The other tilted her head, eyes flicking over me with open curiosity. “What an odd request… though—”

  They both stopped just inside the doorway.

  “Well,” the first murmured, lips curling slightly, “he is quite a looker.”

  The second laughed softly. “Then perhaps you should withdraw now, before you lose.”

  They drifted closer, one on each side of me, their presence warm, perfumed, and deliberately intimate. Their charms pressed in from both directions, subtle but practiced.

  It lasted less than ten seconds.

  “You’re free to go,” I said.

  Yan Jin blinked. “That’s all?”

  The two courtesans froze.

  Above their heads hovered the numbers: [Level 9] and [Level 11].

  It was not even close.

  One of them stared at me in disbelief, mouth opening and closing soundlessly. The other tried to speak, only to stutter uselessly, her complaint looping without ever forming a full sentence.

  “There’s no need to stay,” I repeated calmly. “Leave.”

  The next hour blurred together in a way I hadn’t anticipated.

  I planned to meet every courtesan of the House of Cherry Blossoms, so I had been very patient.

  At first, it was simple enough. A glance, a number hovering above their head, and a polite dismissal. Then the attempts began to escalate. Subtle smiles turned deliberate. Gentle conversation gave way to practiced allure. Before I realized it, the inspection had devolved into something closer to a competition.

  They tried everything.

  Some brought out instruments and played melodies that tugged at the heart. Others danced with confident precision, their steps light and deliberate. One brewed tea with such care that even Tao Fang murmured approval under his breath. Another unveiled a painting she had prepared in advance, explaining its symbolism with earnest intensity. There were songs sung with trembling emotion, poems recited with shining eyes… and one woman, inexplicably, attempted a form of comedic monologue that left the room in stunned silence.

  I could have stopped it.

  I should have stopped it.

  But they insisted so much I ended up making one of them cry, when I suggested dismissing there performance. What the heck?

  “Please, just watch until the end.”

  “Just five minutes, honored guest.”

  “Let us show you our best.”

  That five-minute limit I had imposed to give myself flexibility became my undoing. What should have taken half an hour stretched into hours. I only needed to look, but somehow I had become the unwilling judge of a private talent exhibition.

  By the time the latest group departed, Yan Jin returned and bowed slightly.

  “This is the final group,” she said.

  Tao Fang stood beside me, his posture calm, though I caught the faintest trace of a smirk tugging at his lips. “Chances are high that the spider demon is among them, Senior… I swear to do my part, without fail. Still, I must say, I am impressed by your methods!”

  Before I could respond, one of the departing courtesans suddenly threw herself forward, grasping at my sleeve.

  “I can do better,” she pleaded. “I’ll do anything. Just choose me.”

  I pried her hands away and gestured firmly toward the door. She was escorted out moments later, still protesting.

  Yan Jin returned once more and ushered in the final group.

  I looked up and immediately checked their levels.

  [Level 6]

  [Level 7]

  [Level 9]

  [Level 7]

  [Level 8]

  [Level 10]

  [Level 5]

  [Level 9]

  [Level 7]

  [Level 11]

  I frowned inwardly.

  There were no obvious outlier.

  Half of them carried instruments: a two-stringed fiddle, a bamboo flute, a pear-shaped lute, a zither, and light percussion. The remaining women bore oil-paper umbrellas or stood empty-handed. They arranged themselves with practiced ease, musicians to the rear, three dancers with umbrellas at the center, and two vocalists flanking them.

  They weren’t improvising.

  They were prepared.

  The singers began first, their voices intertwining in careful harmony, one leading while the other echoed. The musicians joined in, and the melody filled the room, layered and deliberate.

  The dancers adjusted their sashes, revealing just enough shoulder, a bit of neckline, and a hint of leg as the umbrellas unfurled. They moved in time with the music, slow at first, then gradually quickening, circling around me as their umbrellas spun and caught the light.

  The music shifted, changing tempo.

  The bamboo flute breathed first, a low, wandering note that curled through the room like mist at dusk. The zither followed, its strings plucked gently, setting a rhythm that felt almost like a heartbeat. The fiddle joined in with a trembling harmony, while the percussion whispered rather than struck, a soft pulse beneath it all.

  The two vocalists stepped forward.

  Their voices rose together, one high and clear, the other low and warm, weaving into each other as if chasing the same thought from different directions.

  “In halls where swaying lanterns shone,

  Where shadows sipped the fire alone,

  A lonely heart was overthrown

  By velvet vows too softly thrown.”

  “She smiled like spring the world had known,

  Her gaze a dark and glassy stone,

  One step too near, the line was gone,

  A fragile truth you should have known.”

  “Oh love that drips like golden wine,

  Oh touch that burns yet feels divine,

  Desire hums, and doubts resign,

  As longing walks a path malign.”

  The melody deepened.

  The three dancers opened their oil-paper umbrellas fully now, spinning them slowly as they stepped in a widening circle. Their movements were fluid and graceful. Sleeves brushed air, fabric whispered against skin, and the umbrellas tilted just enough to hide their faces, then revealed them again.

  The song continued.

  “They say she waits where petals’ve flown,

  With laughter sweet as melting snow,

  A tender hand, a sighing tone,

  An ache you swear you’ve always known.”

  “But silk may hide a killing thorn,

  And warmth conceal the creeping cold,

  By early light, the dreams you’ve worn

  Lie hollow, spent, and growing old.”

  The dancers drew closer.

  They were not touching me. However, they were close enough that I could feel the movement of air, smell faint perfume, and hear breath timed to the music. Their umbrellas lowered, casting shifting shadows across the walls, spider-like in the way they stretched and folded.

  My fingers tightened slightly on the arm of the chair.

  “Oh love that feeds on borrowed breath,

  Oh lips that swear, then seal your death,

  She weds your sleep, betroths your flesh,

  And fades by dawn without a breath.”

  The musicians rose with the song, the flute climbing higher, the zither striking faster notes. The dancers’ steps quickened, skirts flaring, umbrellas spinning in sharp, controlled arcs. Seduction gave way to tension, and beauty edged with something predatory.

  The final verse softened.

  “So heed the song the elders’ve sung,

  When beauty calls and threads are spun,

  For not all hearts that beat as one

  Were ever yours, when all is done.”

  The music faded.

  The umbrellas closed in unison, snapping shut. The dancers froze, heads bowed. The final note of the flute lingered, and then vanished.

  Silence filled the room.

  It was artful, even elegant…

  Beneath it all and unmistakably clear to anyone who knew what to listen for, it was what you would call a… love song. In the same breath, it was also a warning about the story of a spider demon, sung sweetly enough that most men would never realize they were already caught in the web.

  “Well?” asked Yan Jin gently. “What did you think, Young Master?”

  I leaned back in the chair and looked at her instead of answering. “Before I give an opinion, let me ask you something. Where did that song come from?”

  Yan Jin blinked, then smiled faintly. “It is an old folk song. A story passed down through generations. It tells of a human and a spider demon who fell in love.”

  “Fell in love?” I echoed.

  She hesitated. “That… depends on who you ask. Some say it was true love. Others say it was merely hunger mistaken for affection. After all, one was a demon, the other human. Predator and prey.” She lowered her eyes. “Still, the common consensus is that they loved one another, even if the ending was tragic.”

  Tao Fang stroked his beard and nodded. “Among cultivators, it is often used as a cautionary tale. One should never trust appearances alone, or they may be betrayed by the very person they cherish.” He glanced around the room. “A more direct interpretation is simpler, be wary of shapeshifting monsters that use beauty as their snare.”

  A nervous voice interrupted us.

  “So… how did we do?”

  It was the woman who had played the zither. Her fingers were clenched tightly around the instrument, knuckles pale. The others watched me with barely concealed anticipation, their earlier confidence now replaced by anxious hope.

  Yan Jin leaned closer and whispered into my ear. “The girls made a small wager among themselves. They pooled the payment you gave. Whoever won would take all of it.”

  I looked at the group again. If this was judged as a single performance, then the reward would likely be shared. Fair enough.

  I stood.

  “You lot didn’t just do well,” I said plainly. “You won. Completely.”

  No one reacted for a moment.

  But then, the room erupted.

  Cheers, laughter, and disbelief came through them. Someone nearly dropped her flute. The dancers grabbed each other, spinning in place. The tension evaporated in an instant, replaced by genuine joy.

  I turned back to Yan Jin and handed her another pouch of coins, feeling my funds drain away with it. “Give rewards to the second and third runner-up as well. Also, use the rest to treat everyone with a meal.”

  Yan Jin stared at the pouch, clearly startled. “Young Master… this is too much.”

  “It’s fine,” I said lightly. “Consider it encouragement.”

  In truth, I had a reason.

  If a spider demon was hiding here, I didn’t want my visit to stand out as strange. A man who came to admire talent, threw money around, and left satisfied was far less suspicious than one who inspected faces and rejected everyone. If there was a monster watching from the shadows, this would blur my intentions nicely.

  As the courtesans celebrated, I exhaled quietly.

  Maybe the spider demon wasn’t here after all.

  Or maybe she was, watching and learning.

  Either way… I couldn’t deny it.

  Since arriving in this world, I found myself smiling from simple enjoyment.

  Honestly, they gave me a fun time.

  Maybe isekai wasn’t so bad after all.