Chapter 927: Explanation
“QUINNIE!!!” they shrieked in perfect harmony, pointing accusatory fingers at him.
“EXPLAIN!!”
Quinlan raised a single brow, amused.
Lounging lazily in the pond, he let Feng continue her amateurish (but at least very enthusiastic) attempt to wash his back. The water was warm, her scrubbing a bit too energetic, but charmingly so. She was clearly trying to prove her worth as a Jade Beauty… even if she was currently wielding a sponge like a murder weapon.
He glanced over at the two furious figures across the pond. Mearie and Luminara looked like two drenched goddess-statues mid-awakening, glowing with maternal wrath.
His lips curled in a soft chuckle. “I was wondering when the two of you would notice.”
Their eyes narrowed.
“What?!” Mearie hissed.
“You knew?! You let us go this long just believing it was all good?!” Luminara wailed.
“You’re literally primordials, Mothers, with the amazing ’primordial brain’ organ sitting in your skulls…” Quinlan replied dryly. “Yet you didn’t notice a basic numerical discrepancy until now. A little preoccupied, aren’t we?”
*SPLASH! SPLASH!*
The stomp retaliation was immediate. Water cascaded through the air like the furious tide of two adorable tsunamis.
“Don’t you dare tease your mothers!!” they cried together as if they’d been wronged by their son to their very core.
Feng snorted behind him, greatly enjoying the drama as she wiped him down with extra vigor, as if marking her territory.
Meanwhile, on the far side of the pond, a certain red-haired warrioress was ever so slowly… inching away.
Serika moved with the silence of a master assassin, despite the soft ripples betraying her legs beneath the water. Her long scarlet hair was tied in a loose bun, still damp from the washing she’d endured at the hands of the terrifying Motherly Duo.
It wasn’t that she hated being pampered.
Not at all.
But she was a 200-year-old battle-hardened cultivator who had spent nearly her entire life training, fighting, and surviving in a ruthless world. Her mother had died when she was barely out of infancy, and the man who raised her, Rykar Vael, was more stone than flesh when it came to emotions. His parenting philosophy had been simple:
’If you’re breathing, you should be training.’
So now, here she was… being bathed, massaged, and cooed over like a delicate princess. The two warm, soft, terrifyingly loving women had shown her more physical affection in a day than she’d received in two centuries.
It made her feel… warm.
Soft.
And so very exposed.
She wasn’t shameless enough to throw herself into their chests like a certain Primordial Villain she knew, who could probably be cradled in their bosoms for eternity and still ask for cookies on top.
So, no. She wouldn’t fight them. She wouldn’t protest. She would simply… escape.
With the graceful discretion of someone trained in flame-step footwork and battlefield misdirection, Serika slipped out from between the grasping hands of affection.
Mearie and Luminara both watched Serika’s retreating back vanish into the fog.
Neither moved to stop her.
“She’s running as though we tortured her,” Mearie said with a soft, amused snort.
“She’s confused…” Luminara replied, lips quirking. “Emotionally.”
But their tones weren’t harsh. Just wry. Understanding. Ancient.
They were not young maidens trying to chase down a shy girl; they were age-old entities who had seen trauma take root in a thousand different ways. Not everyone was like ’him,’ after all.
Their shameless, sweet, ridiculous son, whose preferred method of processing emotional damage involved being sandwiched between the softest feminine curves of women he loved dearly.
So they let Serika go.
Let her breathe.
But then… they turned back to him.
Gone was the doting warmth, the tender indulgence, the unconditional waves of pampering love.
What remained were two pairs of narrowed, unimpressed eyes. The unmistakable you-are-in—big-trouble!!! Stares that only mothers could weaponize so precisely.
Quinlan, lounging like the villainous royalty he was accused of being, merely met their gazes and grinned.
Wide.
Unbothered.
He raised one hand lazily, enjoying the shocked little gasps they let out when he tilted his head and said, utterly casually…
“Well, remember when I was busy drinking your warm milk-“
“You were doing what?!” Feng screeched suddenly behind him, nearly dropping the sponge she had been using to polish his shoulders.
But Quinlan continued smoothly, like a war general ignoring battlefield screams.
“During that time, you both insisted on interlocking foreheads with me because I wasn’t feeling overly talkative, and you didn’t want to wait for me to feel satisfied. Right?”
The mothers nodded slowly, still not smiling.
“And I shared my memories during that merge,” he went on. “About my newest trial. I might’ve talked to Feng and Serika during that time about how awesome my lovers were. Number eight probably came up.”
He tapped the side of his temple, smirking wider.
“Your brains just… accepted it. Classic subconscious data integration. Perfectly logical mistake.”
Mearie crossed her arms. His explanation was logical, but… She didn’t like it one bit.
“Memory resonance isn’t perfect,” Luminara added, acknowledging he might be onto something. “And we weren’t exactly cautious, looking at signs of trouble… We were just too concerned and curious about Quinnie’s Primordial Rank-Up Mission…”
Both mothers paused.
Then, in perfect harmony…
“Ok, but so what?” they scoffed. They sent one meaningful glance toward Feng, who somehow got the memo and got out of the way. With her safely out of the way, it was time.
*SPLOOSH! SPLASH!*
The serene waters of the ancient pond were instantly transformed into chaos as Mearie and Luminara began stomping through the shallow pool, their absurdly strong legs kicking up waves like twin divine storms. The elegant ripples from earlier were replaced by chaotic surges that might’ve drowned a mortal swan or two.
With one righteous hop, the two ancient mothers leapt—one after another—right against his chest.
*WHUMP! WHUMP!*
Quinlan was knocked back toward the edge of the pond, landing on his back with a surprised grunt, water sloshing around him as he stared up at the twin mothers seated squarely on his thighs like majestic (and very grumpy) queens reclaiming their throne.
The two women loomed above him now, arms crossed under their chests, expressions deeply unimpressed and radiating… parental menace.
“We don’t care how it happened!” Luminara declared.
“We only care who!” Mearie added firmly.
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