Chapter 21: Method

Wen Jiang believed he had come up with a brilliant way to resist Peach Fragrance.

This method was something he’d been using all along—the main reason he could withstand the impact of Charm-Type Esper Abilities, stand steady on his feet, and even put on a show for his three spectators.

It involved a genius flash of insight, masterful control over his Supernatural Ability allocation, and persistent training efforts. It was like tackling the final “distinguishing” problem on a math olympiad exam under time pressure with some ingenious twist, then looking back at your calculations afterward and feeling utterly satisfied. Wen Jiang really wanted to share his creative idea with someone.

In practical training, this would definitely score major points, he mused amid the living room that was on the verge of becoming rubble.

But everyone around him seemed awfully busy, making him feel like the only idler. A small wind field, formed by invisible air currents, constantly enveloped him, automatically deflecting the shattered ice shards and exploded glass fragments. The ice spikes hadn’t been aimed at him anyway.

…Huh? Am I getting more excitable because of that Supernatural Ability’s influence?

His mind was a mess, but after counting down the ten seconds, Wen Jiang concluded he was in a safe zone. His thoughts grew even more scattered.

I absolutely have to tell someone the principle behind why this method works… Oh, right. So this is the effect of an ability that amplifies inner desires…

…So hot.

A beat late, he realized that compared to “solving problems,” the more primal desire should be physiological heat. Wen Jiang spoke up: “Xie Qi.”

The gale halted in an instant. Xie Qi had appeared at his side at some point. He rationally judged that now wasn’t the time for fighting. Xie Qi took a deep breath, seemingly suppressing some emotion with great effort, and said to Wen Jiang in a steady, calm tone, “It’s fine. I’ll handle it.”

Wen Jiang: ?

It felt like the other was comforting him, but something seemed off.

Whatever. Wen Jiang continued with the second half of his unfinished sentence: “I need an empty room.”

“Okay.” Xie Qi replied immediately. He hesitated for a moment, unsure where to put his hands, then gently pressed them to Wen Jiang’s shoulder. “I’ll help you there.”

I’ve been standing fine for so long… I probably don’t need help right now… Cool wind poured in from the broken window outside, along with the sound of some propeller spinning. It interrupted Wen Jiang’s thoughts, and he asked on reflex, “What’s that?”

“A helicopter,” Xie Qi answered matter-of-factly, as if it were the most ordinary thing. Wen Jiang felt like something was off again.

But on Xie Qi, it was hard to say. Wen Jiang sensed Xie Qi carefully taking his hand. Wen Tianlu suddenly scoffed from nearby. He wiped away the trickle of blood from the wind blade’s graze on his cheek with a finger and said listlessly, “Leaving already?”

“Scram.” Xie Qi didn’t turn his head, shooting the other a gloomy sidelong glance.

Wait. Wen Jiang suddenly grew alert: “The dance.”

My assignment.

“It’s fine,” Xie Qi said, gripping Wen Jiang’s hand a bit tighter. Feeling the unusual heat in that grip—not like his usual hold—a restless ache surged in his heart. He softened his tone to reassure him. “As long as you don’t want it to, the dance will never end.”

Oh… Huh?

What are you planning? Wen Jiang thought for a second, then quickly gave up on maintaining his current state to think further. He just said, “Don’t go overboard.”

***

What time was it now?

Theoretically, only a short while had passed, but it felt like ages. The world tilted and blurred. Only the other hand holding his felt vividly tight. Wen Jiang followed along, and in his vision, someone rushed over in a hurry—frantic, terrified, bowing repeatedly and saying something.

The words flowed past like water; Wen Jiang didn’t catch the specifics. He just sensed rising fear and panic in the man. Finally, the guy in the suit with an expensive watch dropped straight to his knees, kowtowing nonstop while talking, his forehead turning red. He must have used real force—”thud thud thud” against the thick soundproof carpet.

The person pulling him along was clearly in a foul mood. Without a glance, he kicked the man in the shoulder, sending him tumbling away. The guy rolled twice, groaned at the corridor’s edge, but Wen Jiang was dragged onward. Passing by, his sluggish brain recalled: Right, this is how Xie Qi gets when he’s pissed.

A room door was pushed open. Inside was a clean, tidy bedroom with a soft double bed and two single sofas. Wen Jiang’s mind snapped back online at the right moment. One look at the setup, and he knew this was the “final stop.” As they reached the bed, he let go of Xie Qi’s hand first and sank into the nearby single sofa with relief.

Xie Qi paused briefly. Wen Jiang’s actions felt subtly off somehow, but there was no time to dwell. He poured Wen Jiang a glass of water. A knock sounded at the door. He opened it and took a blister pack of pills from his waiting assistant.

Wen Jiang heard Xie Qi ask, “Everything arranged?”

The man outside replied, “Rest assured, sir. All exits are guarded.”

Wen Jiang might not make it back for the banquet’s dance slot, but what was a dance? As long as there was a venue, music, and people, there could be a dance.

Whether Wen Jiang stayed here for half an hour, an hour, three hours, slept through to morning, or rested off the ability backlash until evening—it didn’t matter. How long he stayed was fine.

No one could leave the hotel before he did. The dance lasted as long as he wanted.

Overboard? Probably not. He hadn’t even thrown anyone off the fifth floor.

The door shut tight again, plunging everything into quiet. Wen Jiang was a bit puzzled why Xie Qi was still in the room. Hadn’t they agreed on an “empty room”? How was he supposed to deal with his problem with a live person standing right there?

But then he saw Xie Qi purse his lips, bend down, and bring the water and pills closer. Wen Jiang instantly realized this must be some “miracle cure.” This works too—more efficient. But had medical tech for Charm-Type Esper Abilities advanced this far?

And Xie Qi looked so tense, like Wen Jiang was some clinical trial subject. As he thought this, Wen Jiang took the glass and swallowed the pill.

—Three seconds later, he realized something was wrong.

No longer just a faint flush—his skin took on a more obvious red. Face impassive, Wen Jiang felt his body temperature spike. Even amid the drastic change, he showed top-student composure, his mind precisely recalling the drug’s name. Calmly, he said, “This is just Vicanni No.2 Inhaled Charm Suppressor Tablet, isn’t it?”

Xie Qi froze, his voice a little hoarse: “…Yeah?”

After all, it was a Supernatural Ability. Left alone, it could keep triggering waves of arousal. Right now, the safest, quickest fix for inhaled Charm-Type Esper Ability interference—without harming the body—was the corresponding suppressant.

But the physical reactions already underway couldn’t be undone. No “therapeutic” drug could flip someone from wildly aroused to instantly limp—that sounded bad for the body. After this, it was like any aphrodisiac for normals: relief through physiological release worked best.

Depending on the exposure level, Wen Jiang should get a checkup later. Some Charm-Type Esper Abilities caused lingering effects, like heightened desire for a week or two. Doctors usually advised increasing release frequency until it passed.

In short: better to vent than suppress.

Wen Jiang couldn’t be made to take a cold shower anyway. And for lovers… lovers in this situation would just… right?

Xie Qi’s throat bobbed. With his rage cooling, he felt parched now too.

Come to think of it, this was more like the normal reaction to being hit by an ability. Xie Qi saw Wen Jiang unwilling to get up from the chair. Raking a hand through his hair, he dropped to one knee, took Wen Jiang’s hand, and asked patiently, “What’s wrong?”

“…” Wen Jiang drawled, “I came up with a method to resist the ability earlier.”

Xie Qi: …….?

What?

Xie Qi suddenly understood the source of that subtle wrongness. Logically, Wen Jiang should desperately need “help” right now. Xie Qi had been fretting over his discomfort, burning with impatience. Yet here he sat, steady as a rock, even showing faint signs of resistance.

And he seemed intent on explaining something at this crucial moment.

Wen Jiang waited silently for two seconds. Seeing no interruption from Xie Qi, he continued: “The arousal waves come from the opponent’s ability.”

“In other words, it’s actually a clash between abilities.” Wen Jiang paused, seemingly figuring out the simplest way to phrase it, then went on: “Since it’s an ability clash, as long as I use my own ability to overpower theirs in the relevant domain, I can mitigate the arousal to some degree.”

For example, mental-type abilities could resist Charm-Type ones via “mental calming” against desire amplification. But Xie Qi’s wind or Wen Tianlu’s ice? Powerful, sure, but no stage to compete directly. S-Grade innate resistance was all they had; they couldn’t leverage wind or ice further against the charm.

Wen Jiang concluded: “So the key is finding that relevant domain.”

A Performance-Type Ability shouldn’t overlap much with proper Charm-Type ones. Xie Qi played along: “…So you found the domain?”

He got the idea, but wasn’t sure who was really affected here. Xie Qi felt like he’d jumped into “prep mode” too soon. Wen Jiang’s skin glowed with an unusual flush, his pupils dark as they fixed on him—giving the illusion of total capture—yet laced with an indescribable nonchalance.

Wen Jiang should be suffering, but this desire seemed forever leashed under his control, like a toy he toyed with at will, just a bit restless now. Xie Qi, meanwhile—thanks to his sharp hearing—caught Wen Jiang’s soft sigh, the breathy tone lower and hotter than usual. His throat bobbed again.

Wen Jiang nodded and said clearly, “I tried role-playing as an asexual patient.”

Xie Qi: ……