Airis took a quiet sip of her lemonade, watching her mother expertly parry Junior aunt Sylvia's passive-aggressive comments.
She was relaxed.
The [Aura of Serenity] was doing its job, lulling Senior Uncle Nathaniel into a state of rare, unbothered calm by the wet bar.
She had survived the worst of it. Or so she thought.
In her hyper-focus on Nathaniel—the operative of the secretive national agency—she had completely miscalculated the quiet, aristocratic woman sitting gracefully on the loveseat.
Aunt Eleanor set her porcelain teacup down. It didn't make a sound against the saucer.
Suddenly, before Airis could even register the movement, Eleanor was standing beside her.
A slender, elegant hand wrapped gently around Airis's wrist.
The grip was light, yet the twenty-seven-year-old salaryman inside instantly recognized the terrifying, immovable density behind it.
It wasn't the raw, explosive strength of an Esper like the hijackers, nor the technological might of the Wardens.
It was something older. Deeper. It was a profound, terrifyingly disciplined internal energy that felt like a dormant volcano hiding beneath a serene lake.
Cultivator, Lin Ye's mind flashed, recalling the webnovels of his youth. She's from a hidden martial cultivation clan.
"Victoria, Alexander," Eleanor said softly, her voice carrying an absolute, unquestionable authority that effortlessly cut through the chaotic family chatter.
"If you will excuse us, I am going to borrow my niece for a moment. Just some... 'women's talk' to ensure she is truly recovering from her fright."
Alexander, holding his scotch, nodded respectfully.
"Of course, Eleanor."
Airis didn't have a choice. Eleanor's grip, while completely painless, guided her out of the living room and down the hall into Alexander's quiet, wood-paneled study with unstoppable momentum.
The heavy mahogany door clicked shut behind them, sealing them in absolute silence.
Eleanor released Airis's wrist and turned to face her.
Without the buffer of the rest of the family, Eleanor's presence was suffocating.
Her dark eyes, usually calm and detached, suddenly sharpened into microscopic, invasive points of focus.
She raised two fingers and lightly tapped them against the center of Airis's collarbone.
A pulse of warm, searching energy shot through Airis's body.
[Ding!]
[External Energy Incursion Detected (Classification: Qi/Meridian Probing).]
[Activating Aegis Bioskin Stealth Protocol. Projecting baseline human physiology with optimal health markers.]
Airis held her breath, keeping her face perfectly blank and vaguely confused.
After three agonizing seconds, Eleanor lowered her hand.
The crushing, ancient pressure in the room vanished as quickly as it had appeared.
"Your meridians are undisturbed. No residual elemental taint,"
Eleanor murmured, nodding to herself. "Your father's security team is entirely blind to the true nature of the city, but you are physically unharmed by whatever rogue faction boarded that bus. You are merely perfectly healthy."
"I... I don't know what you mean, Aunt Eleanor,"
Airis stammered, playing the innocent teenager.
"You don't need to, child," Eleanor replied smoothly, walking over to the leather armchair and taking a seat.
"You are a Dover. You belong to the mundane world, and that is where you should stay. However..."
Eleanor's dark eyes fixed on Airis again, this time with a distinctly calculating glint.
"This incident proves that wealth alone cannot shield you," Eleanor continued.
"Alexander has done well, but new money is fragile.
You are seventeen. It is time we began considering your future.
I have connections in the capital. Ancient, deeply rooted families whose foundations cannot be shaken by rogue Espers or corporate espionage.
There are several exceptional young masters—disciplined, powerful boys—who would benefit greatly from an alliance with the Dover fortune. I could arrange a meeting."
Airis felt the blood drain from her face.
An arranged marriage?
To a capital elite cultivator?
It was the ultimate webnovel nightmare scenario.
If she was dragged into the capital's hidden elite circles, her slow-paced life would be instantly obliterated by clan politics, arrogant young masters, and life-or-death tournaments.
Furthermore, she was a twenty-seven-year-old man!
The mere thought of being set up on a date with some pompous, qi-wielding aristocrat made her want to summon a meteorite right onto the study.
"Aunt Eleanor, I—" Airis started, her corporate mind scrambling for a viable exit strategy.
Logic wouldn't work on a traditionalist. Refusal would be seen as a challenge.
There was only one undeniable, universally accepted excuse.
"I can't," Airis blurted out, gripping the fabric of her cream-colored sundress.
"I appreciate it, Aunt Eleanor, but... I already have someone I like."
Eleanor paused. Her perfectly arched eyebrows rose a fraction of an inch.
"Is that so? A boy at your academy? Alexander mentioned you recently rejected the captain of the athletic team."
"He doesn't go to my school,"
Airis said quickly, desperately digging the hole deeper.
"He goes to... a public school. In the Southside."
"The Southside?"
Eleanor repeated, the name tasting like ash in her aristocratic mouth.
"Airis, a momentary infatuation with a commoner is—"
"It's not a momentary infatuation!"
Airis interrupted, her voice gaining a frantic edge.
To sell the lie, Airis forced herself to think about the "boy."
She thought about Lin Ye.
She thought about the scrawny, exhausted teenager with dark, bruised eyes, standing behind the plexiglass counter of the convenience store.
She thought about the absolute, crushing paradox of her existence—how she, an impossibly wealthy, divine-tier beauty, was currently dedicating massive amounts of mental energy to secretly protecting and feeding her past male self.
It was the most bizarre, twisted form of narcissism in human history.
She was her own secret admirer. She was her own sugar mommy.
The sheer psychological absurdity of it all crashed over her.
A violent, uncontrollable blush erupted across Airis's face.
Her pale skin turned a brilliant, burning crimson from her collarbones to the tips of her ears.
She looked down at the floor, genuinely, profoundly embarrassed by the metaphysical paradox she was currently living.
Eleanor watched the transformation in absolute silence.
The eldest aunt was a master of reading human energy and emotion. She could spot a lie from a mile away.
But the blush spreading across Airis's face was undeniably genuine.
The sheer intensity of the girl's embarrassment, the frantic beating of her heart, the way she couldn't even make eye contact—it was the textbook physical manifestation of a profound, overwhelming, all-consuming first love.
Eleanor didn't know that the blush was caused by existential dread and paradoxical embarrassment rather than romantic swooning.
The strict, ancient cultivator sighed softly, a rare glimmer of softness entering her dark eyes.
"I see," Eleanor murmured.
"This is not a fleeting fancy. You carry him very deeply in your heart."
Airis kept her head down, her face still burning. If you only knew, she thought miserably.
"Very well," Eleanor conceded, standing up and smoothing her dark dress.
"The path of cultivation teaches us that the heart's foundation must be solid.
Forcing an arrangement when your spirit is so fiercely anchored to another would only breed resentment and disaster.
I will not push the matter of the capital families."
Airis let out a shaky, quiet exhale, her shoulders dropping in relief.
Eleanor stepped closer, her tone shifting from an interrogator to a surprisingly protective aunt.
"I will not ask for his name today. Nor will I tell your father; Alexander would likely send an army to interrogate the poor boy.
But hear me well, Airis: if this boy from the Southside ever breaks your heart, or fails to protect you... he will learn that Dover wealth is the least terrifying thing about your family."
"He won't,"
Airis whispered truthfully. Because he is me.
"Good," Eleanor nodded, the chilling threat delivered with perfect poise. She reached out and gently patted Airis's burning cheek.
"Now, compose yourself, child. Your blush is bright enough to guide ships to harbor. Sylvia will have a field day if she sees you looking so thoroughly flustered."
With that, the terrifying eldest aunt turned and glided out of the study, leaving Airis alone.
Airis leaned against the heavy mahogany desk, covering her crimson face with her hands.
She had survived the cultivator's interrogation. She had successfully avoided an arranged marriage.
But as she stood there, trying to will her heart rate back to normal, she realized she had just officially cemented a massive, complicated lie.
She now had a "secret boyfriend" in the slums, fully endorsed and protected by the most dangerous woman in her family.
The slow-paced life was officially becoming a web of absolutely ridiculous, self-inflicted drama.