I AM A MAGE BUT WITH MILF SYSTEM

He smiled.

“Hmm…” he murmured, tapping his fingers on the table. “That’s a tough one.”

He let the silence stretch, deliberately drawing out her anxiety.

“I have no idea,” he finally said. “Surprise me… Heavenly Moon.”

Her heart skipped a beat.

That name, spoken so casually from his lips, sounded nothing like how others used it. No awe, no fear. Just teasing familiarity, as if he was speaking to a girl he had grown up with.

She tensed slightly.

Surprise him?

How was she supposed to surprise someone like him? A man who could breach her domain, crush her pride, and toy with Saints like they were mere chess pieces? Someone who had tasted power, beauty, and luxury that few even dared to dream of?

Every possible name she considered felt inadequate. Every disciple, noble daughter, sect princess—he had probably had dozens just like them.

She wasn’t even sure if he was interested in women at all or if this was another layer of a deeper game. Was he testing her? Mocking her? Or genuinely amused to see how far she would go?

Still, a deal was a deal.

So she straightened her back, raised her chin just a little, and forced the fear back into the deepest part of her mind.

“…Very well,” she said, her voice steadier now. “I’ll find someone.”

She didn’t know who it would be. But she had to search.

Julian raised an eyebrow, leaning in slightly with the faintest curl of his lips.

She shifted her gaze to the distant clouds beyond the pavilion, her words slow and heavy.

“From the Inner Court,” she began, “there is Yu Qing, daughter of the Frost Spear Clan. Her spiritual roots are top-tier, her beauty… renowned across the three southern provinces. She is untouched, intelligent, and obedient.”

Julian didn’t move. He blinked slowly, but his smile didn’t waver.

“Too cold,” he said simply.

She swallowed again.

“Then perhaps… Lan Yue. She’s half-spirit beast, descended from the White Tiger bloodline. Graceful. Fierce. But fun to break. Many consider her a rare breed.”

Julian yawned slightly.

“Exotic. But… still ordinary.”

Her jaw clenched, and she continued.

“Xin Yao, a disciple of mine—young, loyal, charming. She has studied dual-cultivation theory, though she has never practiced it. She’s talented enough to be a Core Disciple, but I kept her near me.”

Julian finally tilted his head, faking interest.

“Closer,” he said, teasingly. “Now you’re beginning to think. But… still not surprising.”

Her breath caught.

Of course it wasn’t.

Because nothing surprised him.

Still she pressed on.

“What of Mu Rong, daughter of Sect Elder Xian? She was once considered for marriage into the Royal Clan. Her talent is average, but her beauty is… refined. She speaks rarely. Would that suit your taste?”

Julian raised a brow, then shook his head slowly.

“I asked for a surprise, not a diplomatic offering.”

She bit the inside of her cheek, tasting blood.

She was offering everything.

The prized flowers of her sect. Her proudest disciples. Daughters of power and legacy.

And all he did was smile.

“I could offer you a princess,” she said suddenly, desperate now. “The third princess of the mortal nation is cultivating in secret within our sect. No one knows she’s here. I could—”

Julian lifted a single finger.

She stopped.

He chuckled softly, shaking his head again, eyes still locked onto hers.

“You’re listing treasures from your treasury, Heavenly Moon,” he said. “But none of them are yours.”

He leaned forward slightly. “Tell me… if I said I wanted one of yours… truly yours… what would you say?”

Her heart skipped a beat.

No…

Her breath hitched, and for the first time in centuries, fear—true, raw fear—clawed at her heart.

He doesn’t know.

He can’t know.

But his words—

“If I said I wanted one of yours…”

It couldn’t be a coincidence.

How…? she thought, a shiver coursing through her spine. How could he possibly know?

She wanted to stand. To leave. To fly and never look back. But her legs wouldn’t move.

And then—she made the mistake of asking.

Her voice was thin, brittle, barely holding from breaking apart.

“…Who?”

Julian’s smirk widened. “I heard… you have a daughter.”

The words dropped like a stone, breaking everything that stood in its way.

Her entire body stiffened.

Her face paled.

She was utterly and completely exposed.

For a moment, she forgot to breathe. Not because of the sentence itself—but because of what it meant.

Because no one was supposed to know.

Not her elders. Not her disciples. Not even the daughter herself.

It was her greatest secret.

A secret she had buried so deeply that even she herself seemed to have forgotten. It had been years since that event, in the fragile years of her youth—before she became a saint, before she forged her image as the untouchable ruler of the Heavenly Moon Sect.

Her child had been born in shadow, raised under a false name, and placed among common disciples with no knowledge of her bloodline.

Heavenly Moon had never once allowed herself to gaze too long. She couldn’t. Because her child’s existence was a vulnerability.

She did it to protect her. To protect them both.

If word ever got out—rival sects, political vultures, even other Saints—any one of them would seize on that opportunity to strike her where she was weakest.

So she never told a soul.

Never even whispered it. Not once.

And yet… this man—this monk—spoke it aloud, as if it were common knowledge. As if he had read it from a scroll or pulled it from the wind.

How did he know?

No… more importantly—

How much did he know?

Did he know her face? Her name? The hidden formation protecting her?

Her hand subconsciously moved toward her waist, where a concealed jade seal rested—one that would teleport her daughter away instantly if anything ever happened.

She was prepared to use it.

To run.

To burn everything down if necessary.

The silence dragged on, and Julian’s eyes glinted with twisted satisfaction.

“Hmm… why are you silent?”

He smiled, that same infuriating, effortless smile, as if her world hadn’t just been cracked open before him.