I AM A MAGE BUT WITH MILF SYSTEM

He stepped out of Mei’s room and sealed the door with his mana to keep it secure. The Inner Sect was quieter now, leaving the courtyards bathed in soft sunlight and the scent of blooming lotuses.

Julian’s senses swept the area, picking up the faint hum of spiritual energy from the sect’s formations and the distant chatter of disciples. His eyes narrowed as he caught a glimpse of a figure near the lotus pond—a young man, unremarkable at first glance, but with that same concealed aura he had sensed before.

The Sect Leader, he thought, his smirk widening. Still playing her little game.

Julian strolled casually toward the pond and paused by the edge, pretending to admire the lotuses

Interesting indeed, he thought, his mana probing her senses.

Just then,

“Brother Monk!” a familiar voice called, breaking his focus. Mei hurried toward him, her eyes bright with excitement. “You’re still here,” she said, relief evident in her voice.

She glanced around, ensuring no other disciples were nearby, then lowered her voice. “I… I couldn’t stop thinking about last night. The breakthrough, the path—it’s all so real. When can we continue?”

Julian’s smile was warm, his gaze softening as he stepped closer. “Amitabha, Mei’er. Your dedication to the path is admirable. We will continue tonight, when the moon is high and the sect is quiet. For now, tell me—how was your class? Did your new strength surprise your peers?”

Mei’s eyes sparkled with pride. “They couldn’t believe it,” she said, her voice tinged with awe. “My Qi was stronger, my techniques sharper. Even Senior Sister Luoshi noticed something different. I… I owe it all to you, Brother Monk.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she looked down, the memory of their closeness stirring her heart.

Julian’s amusement grew, though he kept his expression serene. Luoshi’s suspicion could be a problem, but Mei’s devotion was a powerful tool.

“You owe it to your own spirit, Mei’er,” he said, his tone humble yet magnetic. “The path of nature merely unlocks what was always within you. Tonight, we will take another step—deeper, closer to transcendence.”

Mei nodded eagerly, her trust in him absolute. As she excused herself to prepare for her next class, Julian’s gaze drifted back to the figure by the pond. The Sect Leader had moved on, but her presence lingered in his mind.

Walking away from the pond, Julian roamed around the Heavenly Moon Sect, taking everything in. As he strolled, every eyes were drawn to him.

Some disciples mocked him, “Hey, look, a monk!”—their smirks filled with disdain for his maroon robes and shaved head. Others, particularly the female disciples, gazed with respect or curiosity.

Julian’s warm smile never wavered, his gaze shifting from disciple to disciple. Mostly female, he thought, smirking inwardly.

But a sudden commotion broke his thought.

Murmurs and shouts filled the air while spiritual energy pulsed from a nearby courtyard. Julian approached a young boy standing at the edge of the crowd.

“Young friend,” he said, his voice gentle but commanding, “what is going on here?”

The boy sized Julian up, his eyes scanning the monk from head to toe before shrugging. “A fight has broken out,” he said, pointing toward the crowd. “Two Inner Sect disciples going at it. Happens sometimes when egos clash.”

Interesting, Julian thought, his curiosity piqued. “Amitabha” he murmured and pushed through the crowd.

As he reached the inner circle, he saw two male disciples locked in combat, their fists crackling with Qi as they traded punches.

Julian’s eyes narrowed, focusing in on one of the fighters—the “male” disciple whose aura gave off his real identity. The Sect Leader, he muttered, his lips curling into a faint smirk.

The Sect Leader was disguised as a lean young man with sharp features and a disciple’s robe. Her punches were infused with water-based Qi, each strike flowing like a tide, smooth yet devastating.

Her opponent, a fat disciple with a fiery aura, countered with explosive bursts of flame, but he was clearly outmatched. The crowd cheered, some shouting bets, others egging on their favorite.

The fight ended swiftly. The Sect Leader sidestepped a fiery punch, her body twisting like a stream of water, and delivered a precise strike to her opponent’s chest. Her water Qi sent the disciple flying before he collapsed onto the ground with a loud thud.

She stood tall, her expression cold and composed as she played the role of a proud male disciple perfectly. But Julian caught the briefest flicker in her eyes—a wariness, as if she sensed someone watching too closely.

He stepped forward, and clapped his hands lightly. “Amitabha,” he said, his voice carrying over the crowd’s chatter. “A splendid display of skill, young friend. The Heavenly Moon Sect’s techniques are truly remarkable.”

His words were humble, but his gaze locked onto the Sect Leader’s, a subtle challenge hidden in his warm eyes.

The Sect Leader turned, her “male” facade unwavering as she sized him up. “Monk,” she said, her voice deep, “you’re far from your temple. What brings you to our sect?”

Julian bowed slightly. “The path of nature guides my steps,” he said. “I seek wisdom, and the Heavenly Moon Sect is renowned for its harmony with the martial path. Perhaps I might learn from a skilled disciple such as yourself.”

His smile widened, just enough to hint at his awareness of her secret, but not enough to expose it.

“I am just a lowly disciple,” she said, her voice slightly heavy with a trace of suspicion. “What can I teach a monk like you?”

Julian’s smile widened. “Many things, young friend,” he said. “Perhaps we can have a debate about love under the moonlight.”

The courtyard fell silent, the crowd’s breath catching as if the air itself had frozen. The Sect Leader flinched, her eyes widening for a fleeting moment before she masked her shock. The disciples erupted, their whispers exploding into a chaotic buzz.

“Did he just say that?” one gasped, clutching a friend’s arm. “No way, right?” another stammered, eyes darting between Julian and the disguised Leader.

“Is he… gay or something?” a third muttered, drawing a wave of judging glances and stifled laughter.

Julian stood unfazed, his smile warm and steady, as if he hadn’t just set the sect ablaze with a single sentence. He caught the Sect Leader’s aura flickering—wary, intrigued, and faintly amused beneath her stoic mask.

She knows I see through her, he thought.

The Sect Leader cleared her throat, her voice steady despite the weight of every stare. “A… debate?” she said. “I’m not versed in such matters, monk. My focus is cultivation, not… moonlight debates.”

Her eyes locked onto his, a silent challenge mirroring his own.

Clever, Julian thought. She was sidestepping his bait, but not retreating.

The crowd’s murmurs grew louder, some disciples nudging each other, others whispering about the monk’s boldness. “He’s got guts, talking to Senior Brother like that.”

Julian took a step closer to the Sect Leader, his palms joined together. “A pity,” he said. “The heart’s wisdom often rivals the sword’s. But if cultivation is your path, perhaps a sparring match could teach us both.”

His smile was disarming, but his eyes held a glint of knowledge. A spar would reveal more of her skills, her limits—and maybe her reasons for the disguise.

The Sect Leader’s aura tensed as if preparing herself. “A spar? You’re a monk, not a warrior. What could you offer in a match?”

The crowd leaned in, eager for more drama, their bets already shifting from the earlier fight to this new challenge.

Julian bowed slightly, his smile unwavering. “The path of nature embraces all forms—fist, word, or spirit. A friendly exchange could illuminate much, young friend.”

The Sect Leader’s lips twitched, a flicker of intrigue breaking through her stoic facade. “Perhaps another time,” she said, her tone final but not dismissive. “I have duties to attend.”

She turned, her robes swaying with her steps, and walked away. The crowd parted for her and whispers followed her like wildfire—about the monk, the “debate,” and the strange tension between them.

Julian watched her go, his smirk hidden behind his serene expression. He turned as well, his bald head catching the sunlight as he strolled away from the courtyard.

After exploring the Heavenly Moon Sect for a while longer, Julian returned to Mei’s room. As he slipped through the door, his eyes fell on Mei who was sat cross-legged on the floor. Her body glowed with faint aura as she remained lost in her meditation.

Her focus was absolute and her dantian pulsed with newfound strength from their earlier cultivation.

She really wants to grow stronger, Julian thought, genuine admiration flickering inside him for the young woman.

Without disturbing her, Julian silently slipped to the bed, making himself comfortable.

Meanwhile, at the peak of the sect’s mountains, hidden among clouds that shimmered with spiritual energy, stood a pavilion that seemed to be part of the heavens itself. Its jade pillars glowed faintly, and the structure exuded an aura of divinity, as if it belonged to gods rather than mortals.