Chapter 1

My name is Rebecca Ginger. I transmigrated into the world of cultivation as an outer disciple of the Celestial Sect, stuck with low talent and struggling to survive at the bottom of the sect hierarchy.

"Others who transmigrated end up as geniuses or young mistresses. Why am I the unlucky one?"

Following the usual script, I should be working hard, defying fate, and putting those vicious girls in their place.

"Forget it... I'm done." I sprawled back on the grass. "The previous life, I worked myself to death. This life, I'm supposed to grind through mystic ascension? Hard pass."

Just as I was about to embrace the slacker life, a wave of laughter caught my ear.

Several female cultivators dressed in luxurious robes were chatting over tea in a nearby pavilion.

"Olive, I heard Marcel from Silvercrest Peak gifted you another magical tool?"

"Hmph, just a shabby sword. Nothing worth showing off."

"Olive's standards are so high. But Marcel really is handsome and dashing..."

I squinted, studying these high-society cultivators.

A bold idea began to take shape.

In this world, female cultivators suppress their emotions, leading dull and rigid lives.

"Emotional value. Emotional consumption!" I slapped my thigh. "Female cultivators need stress relief too."

Where there was demand, there was opportunity.

Long-term emotional repression made female cultivators more prone to inner demons, an officially recognized obstacle in cultivation.

If I could offer them a place to relax, release pressure, and unwind...

I stroked my chin, revealing a capitalist smile.

The next day, I used the original host's remaining savings to rent a small building at the foot of the mountain.

"From today onward, this will be the cultivation world's very first host club."

I stood in front of the creaky wooden door, overflowing with confidence.

I'd already picked out the name: Serenity Lounge.

The ladies would be the patrons, purchasing their own delight, enjoying the serenity in their hearts.

I pulled an all-nighter drafting a batch of handbills.

[Premium cultivator companions. Helping you find inner peace and banish those pesky inner demons. Officially certified by the Celestial Sect, results you can feel.]

Next up, I needed to recruit my startup team.

Most of the male cultivators were far too proud. Who'd ever stoop to this?

I spent a few days hanging around the market, scouting prospects, and finally locked onto three targets.

Victor Sterling, a Sword Cultivator, got booted from his sect for excessive bluntness. Now he was so broke that he even pawned his sword sheath.

Rayden Wells, an Alchemist Cultivator, blew up his alchemy furnace and now owes money all over town.

Walter Harmon, a Music Cultivator, couldn't do anything except play his guqin, and he was practically starving.

"Gentlemen, interested in lucrative employment?" I flashed a wolfish smile.

The three blinked in unison.

I unfurled a scroll with a flourish. "Alright, let me break down our business model.

"You know how female cultivators must stifle their feelings? No wonder they end up getting hit with inner demons, right?

"So what we're offering is a safe, healthy outlet for all that pent-up emotion. Whether it's chatting, sparring, or just hanging out and having fun.

"We'll elevate their mood and catalyze their advancement."

Victor frowned. "So, what, we're just gigolos?"

"Not in the slightest!" I countered, utterly serious. "We're providers of emotional resonance, spiritual solace, and preventative care for spiritual ailments. This is a noble enterprise."

Rayden stroked his chin. "So, Ms. Ginger, we'd be akin to... therapists for the soul?"

I snapped my fingers. "Rayden, you've grasped it!"

Walter fidgeted. "And our... duties would involve?"

I offered a reassuring smile. "Just be engaging companions. Listen to their concerns, offer support or diversion as needed."

I winked. "A pleasing demeanor is, of course, part of the service."

Victor slammed a hand on the table, rising. "Outrageous! You ask a Sword Cultivator to sell his bearing?"

"Ten Top-grade Spirit Stones a month, plus commission," I said, keeping my tone casual.

Victor resumed his seat.

Rayden cleared his throat. "Ms. Ginger, this does seem to conflict with ascetic principles..."

"Room, board, and I'll clear your markers," I said without missing a beat.

Rayden's posture was perfected. "The restoration of spiritual balance is a sacred charge."

Walter blushed. "I... I only play music. Nothing untoward..."

"You'll provide ambient melodies and master the art of charming conversation," I said, handing him a volume, The Art of Courtly Love. "Internalize this, and a bonus shall follow."

The three exchanged looks, but in the end, the promise of spirit stones was too tempting. They all caved and gave up their pride.

"Excellent!" I clapped. "Now, let's begin your onboarding."

I pulled out three sets of clothes. "These are your uniforms."