My Xianxia Harem Life

”…One lifetime,” she whispered, the weight of those words sinking into her very bones.

Riley smiled faintly, but there was no amusement in his expression—only truth.

Bianca’s shoulders tensed. A lifetime. She had suspected it might take long, but hearing it confirmed so plainly left her momentarily speechless. Was she truly prepared for that kind of commitment? To dedicate her entire existence to mastering something that may not even be fully attainable in her lifetime?

For a brief moment, doubt flickered in her mind. But then, just as quickly as it came, she crushed it.

She had made it this far. She had trained relentlessly, sacrificed comfort, and pushed herself beyond her limits to get to where she was now.

If this was the price for the knowledge she sought, then so be it.

Lifting her head, Bianca’s eyes burned with newfound determination.

”Then I’ll dedicate my entire life to learning it, Master,” she declared, her voice unwavering.

Riley’s gaze lingered on her for a moment before he gave a satisfied nod.

”Good.”

Riley assumed the conversation had reached its natural conclusion, but Bianca’s impatience proved otherwise. It wasn’t surprising—mortals were always like this, grasping desperately at hope when faced with the impossible.

”Can you do it, Master?” Bianca pressed, her voice trembling with anticipation. ”You can already raise the dead… bring them back to life?”

Her gaze bore into Riley, wide-eyed and desperate.

Riley narrowed his eyes, weighing his response carefully. He could sense the raw yearning in her words, the fragile hope that teetered on the edge of disbelief. In the end, he decided to answer in the way that would serve him best.

”Of course,” he said smoothly. ”Life and death are but the tip of my tongue and the raise of my fingers.”

His words sent a visible shudder through Bianca. She inhaled sharply, staring at him as if he had uttered the greatest truth in existence. To her, it was—a miracle beyond comprehension.

Bianca had always believed that reviving the dead required centuries of training, arduous study, and the mastery of forbidden arts.

She had steeled herself for a lifetime of suffering in pursuit of this goal, prepared to sacrifice everything if it meant even the slightest chance of success.

Yet now, in the presence of this man, she was being told that all of her struggles, all of her endless nights of despair, had been meaningless.

If she could just swallow her pride… her greatest wish could be fulfilled.

A harsh sob tore from her throat as she fell to her knees with a resounding thud.

”Please, Master!” she cried, bowing so low that her forehead touched the ground. ”Save my sister! I’ll do anything—anything—for you in return!”

Her voice quivered, but her resolve did not waver. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes, yet she held her head high, her expression one of unwavering determination.

Riley regarded her in silence. He had seen this expression before—the look of someone who had been driven to the brink of madness by grief, the kind of desperation that made people forsake their morals, their dignity, themselves.

A slow smile curved his lips.

”Consider it done,” he said, his tone almost amused.

The very air around them trembled. A ripple of unseen energy coursed through the space, sending a faint hum reverberating in Bianca’s ears. She hardly dared to breathe as a strange warmth enveloped her. Then, without warning, a soft, childish giggle broke the stillness.

Bianca’s head snapped up.

Standing before her was a small girl—no older than five, her tiny frame wrapped in a delicate white dress. Golden curls framed her cherubic face, and her bright blue eyes sparkled with innocence.

Bianca’s breath hitched.

”Amelia…?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

The little girl blinked at her, tilting her head in confusion. Then, recognition dawned in her eyes, and her lips curled into a joyful smile.

”Sister!” she squealed in delight, throwing herself into her sister’s arms.

Bianca caught her, holding her close as fresh sobs wracked her body. She clung to Amelia as if she might disappear again, pressing her cheek against the child’s soft hair.

Amelia giggled, oblivious to the weight of the moment. To her, nothing had changed. She didn’t remember the sickness that had stolen her life, nor the darkness that had swallowed her last waking moments.

”I had the strangest dream,” she murmured, looking up at her sister. ”I think I was sleeping for a really, really long time.”

Bianca let out a choked laugh, stroking Amelia’s hair as she nodded. ”Yes… a long, long time.”

But none of it mattered anymore.

The past, the pain, the heartbreak—it all faded in the face of the miracle before her. The only thing that remained was the warmth of her sister’s embrace and the overwhelming relief that, after so many years, they were together again.

And in that moment, nothing else mattered.

A week passed, and the world continued to turn. Gifts were exchanged, debts—both spoken and unspoken—demanded repayment. Bianca, of course, was no exception to this unspoken rule.

That evening, after an intense training session, Bianca approached Riley. Her usual composed demeanor seemed slightly shaken, her breath still uneven from exertion. A faint blush crept up her cheeks as she hesitated for the briefest moment, then spoke.

”Master… can you visit my room tonight? I’ve prepared a special gift for you.”

Her voice was soft, almost uncertain, but there was something in her gaze—something determined.

Riley studied her carefully, his golden eyes locking onto hers with quiet amusement. He could hear the subtle shift in her heartbeat, sense the slight tremble in her fingers.

With his unparalleled mind-reading abilities, Bianca could hide nothing from him. Every fleeting thought, every ounce of hesitation and anticipation, lay bare before him.

”Are you sure, Bianca?” he finally asked, his voice smooth yet deliberate.

There was no need for clarification—his meaning was crystal clear.

Bianca’s breath hitched slightly. She didn’t speak right away, but after a heartbeat, she gave a small, firm nod. The blush on her delicate face deepened, her expression a mix of nervousness and quiet determination.

Riley’s lips curved into a smirk.

”Alright then,” he said, his voice laced with satisfaction. ”I’ll see you later.”

As he turned and walked away, a thrill coursed through him, an undeniable energy that set his pulse alight. The night stretched ahead, and he found himself restless, impatient. Anticipation buzzed beneath his skin, making the passing hours feel unbearably slow.

He had long since understood Bianca’s attraction to him—her lingering glances, the way she would steal looks at him when she thought he wasn’t paying attention.

Even before tonight, he had sensed the internal war waging within her: restraint battling desire, duty against longing. And now, finally, she had chosen.

Dinner passed in a blur, the rest of the evening a mere distraction. He occupied himself with trivial tasks, but his mind remained fixed on Bianca, on the inevitable moment awaiting them.

By the time nightfall settled, Riley was more than ready.

Standing outside her door, he took a deep breath, a slow smile spreading across his face. He could sense her presence within the room, hear the steady yet slightly uneven rhythm of her breathing. There was no fear in her, only a quiet anticipation mirroring his own.

With a gentle push, the door creaked open.

Inside, candlelight flickered against the walls, casting soft, golden hues across the room. The scent of something sweet—jasmine, perhaps—hung faintly in the air. Bianca stood by the bed, her hands clasped together as she turned to face him.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then, she exhaled softly, meeting his gaze with unwavering resolve.

”Welcome, Master,” she whispered.

Riley stepped forward, shutting the door behind him.

Tonight was theirs.

And he intended to make it unforgettable.

Bianca was nervous, unsure of what to do next, but that only made her all the more enticing in Riley’s eyes. Her hesitation, the slight tremor in her fingers, the way she avoided his gaze—it was an unspoken invitation, a silent plea wrapped in uncertainty.

Riley, however, had no intention of making things easier for her. Instead, he played along, feigning obliviousness to the tension that hung thick in the air.

”So, what’s this about, Bianca?” he asked casually, his gaze drifting around the room.

Her chambers were exactly as he had imagined—soft, elegant, and distinctly feminine. A subtle floral scent lingered in the air, sweet yet intoxicating. Riley took a slow, deliberate breath, savoring the fragrance.

He liked it. No—he loved it.

There was something inherently erotic about a woman’s personal space, the delicate touches that made it uniquely hers. The neatly arranged pillows, the carefully chosen curtains, the faint hint of perfume that clung to the sheets—it was all tantalizing in a way words couldn’t quite capture.

Bianca swallowed, her fingers tightening around the hem of her dress. ”I… I told you, Master. I prepared a gift for you,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Riley turned his attention back to her, a slow smirk curling at the corner of his lips.

”A gift, huh?” he mused, stepping closer. ”And what kind of gift would require all this secrecy?”

Bianca’s breath hitched, her blush deepening.

Riley already knew the answer. But watching her squirm, watching her struggle between nervousness and anticipation, was far too enjoyable to rush.

And so, he waited, letting the tension build between them.

Tonight would be interesting.