For a brief moment, Lin Feng felt sealed in place.
On his left, Supreme Pontiff Bibi Dong's mature, restrained warmth—orchids and incense layered with authority—pressed close enough to leave no room for pretense.
On his right, Hu Liena's sweetness brushed his arm, the soft heat of youth carrying an almost careless temptation.
In his arms, Zhu Zhuyun's curves fit with alarming familiarity, that lazy, feline aura both wild and obedient, as if daring him to test it.
Behind him, a tug at his clothes—silent, stubborn. Zhu Zhuqing didn't speak, didn't move much, yet her presence was sharper than words.
Four scents.
Four temperaments.
One very narrow escape route that did not exist.
Lin Feng's brain stalled.
The air crackled with invisible sparks. Four gazes—majestic, alluring, cool, restrained—locked onto him at once, like blades politely waiting their turn.
What kind of Shura battlefield was this?
Just as his thoughts began to melt, a familiar, leisurely voice chimed in his mind.
Ding.
Detected: Host experiencing "sweet troubles." Activating auxiliary mode: Harem Choice.
Lin Feng's eyelid twitched.
Since when did you have this function, you defective kitchen appliance?
Option A: Supreme Pontiff Bibi Dong—mature, dignified, supreme authority. Experience ultimate conquest.
Option B: Holy Maiden Hu Liena—enchanting, versatile, rich interaction paths.
Option C: Zhu Zhuyun—fiery temperament, loyal, fulfills fantasies.
Option D: Zhu Zhuqing—cold exterior, burning core. Every touch melts ice.
Option E: Adults don't choose. Tonight, Feng Ran Pavilion will witness—
"Shut up."
The command echoed through his consciousness like a slammed door.
"I rely on skill and acting to survive," Lin Feng rebuked coldly. "If I accept this nonsense, what happens to my image? My detached, indifferent, supreme expert persona—does it just evaporate?"
A pause.
Then the system responded, dripping with electronic contempt.
Persona?
Host, please refrain from jokes.
Your acting is so bad it couldn't fool a three-year-old.
If not for this group of diners desperately reinterpreting your tantrums—your swearing, your table-slapping, the time you scolded Beast God Di Tian like an unruly grandchild—
Your current reputation would be: powerful, foul-mouthed village tyrant.
And you dare say "persona"?
…
Lin Feng went quiet.
Every word landed with surgical precision.
He opened his mouth. Closed it again.
Because the system was, infuriatingly, correct.
That "unfathomable divine might" everyone praised?
Purely crowd-sourced damage control.
His face heated—hotter than before, hotter than being surrounded.
So… it never existed.
Seeing his silence, the system added calmly:
Also, what's wrong with having several women?
Do you misunderstand what a "god" is?
Gods have seven emotions and six desires. Desire is often the engine of ascension.
Someone who wants everything but pretends to be above it…
This system has only observed that behavior in one species.
Male peacocks.
The kind terrified of showing their backs.
"I'm going to explode."
This was unprecedented humiliation.
His dignity felt trampled, folded, and scrubbed against the floor with military precision.
Yet—
That single line lingered.
Gods also have seven emotions and six desires.
Was he really… restricting himself for no reason?
He was already here. Already invincible. Already untouchable.
Why was he still acting?
Persona?
Could it be eaten?
Could it be exchanged for gourmet points?
No.
The realization struck cleanly.
In his previous life, he worked himself into an early grave. In this one, he had power, freedom, and a system that broke common sense—yet he was still shackled by a fictional image.
Who was he performing for?
The shackles cracked.
Then shattered.
He was the master of Feng Ran Pavilion. A god within his Domain. His word was law.
Laugh when he wanted.
Curse when it pleased him.
Enjoy what was placed before him.
That was the privilege of divinity.
His gaze shifted as he looked at the four women.
No longer nuisances.
No longer volatile variables.
More like… a farmer finally realizing the land beyond his fence belonged to him too.
He exhaled.
Not in frustration.
In relief.
The change rippled outward.
The four felt it instantly.
His aura hadn't surged—yet something fundamental had settled into place.
"Oh?"
Lin Feng smiled.
Not lazily. Not distantly.
This smile carried control. Playfulness. Unhidden intent.
Like a calm lake disturbed on purpose.
"Want skewers?" he asked lightly.
The tone hooked.
He lifted a hand, tilting Zhu Zhuyun's chin with his thumb. She shivered before she could stop herself.
His arm slid around Bibi Dong and Hu Liena—just enough pressure to remind them he was there.
Four breaths caught.
His gaze moved over them slowly.
Then he asked, softly—
"So… what will you exchange for them?"