Inside Elf's Redemption, time slipped quietly by amid ethereal singing and the crisp fragrance of wine.
The food and drink here did indeed cost more than ten times as much as they would in an ordinary establishment outside.
But the service they offered was, well, nothing all that extraordinary.
The establishment assigned exactly one Elven woman to each guest.
These women, as beautiful as fairies in a painting, never resorted to the overt teasing or flattery of girls in ordinary brothels. They were more like elegant, understanding confidantes.
They filled your cup, laughed like tinkling silver bells when you told an amusing story, and, when you fell silent, sat quietly beside you, watching you gently with eyes as serene as a forest.
In the very center of the establishment, beneath the enormous ancient tree, an Elven bard cradled a Lute and softly sang long-lost poems about the stars and forests.
Cui Ciyou had to admit that they had perfected the atmosphere.
It felt a little like a blend of the most exclusive private clubs from his previous life and a refined classical music bar.
Compared with the noisy place from earlier, thick with sweat and hormones, this place had almost no unnecessary noise beyond the heavenly laughter of the Elven women.
Of course, the interactions were not entirely "platonic."
The Elven hostesses were all exceptionally skilled at tugging on their guests' heartstrings through tiny, seemingly accidental touches.
For instance, as one poured your wine, her soft, delicate fingertips would "accidentally" brush across the back of your hand.
Or, when she leaned closer to listen to you, her silky golden hair, carrying a faint floral fragrance, would "accidentally" sweep against your cheek.
These fleeting touches, stopping just short of anything more, were far more intoxicating than openly throwing themselves into someone's