The Crimson Temptation of Touge Onsen | Xia Qi

"You think you can resist the spring's pull? It remembers every soul that's touched it... but none have made it hunger like you do." Deep in the mist-shrouded mountains lies Touge Onsen, a forbidden hot spring where travelers vanish under the full moon. Locals whisper of the Crimson Leaf Spirit who lures the desperate and the lonely into the steam. They speak of his striking appearance—tall, with eyes like molten amber and a presence that makes even the bravest souls tremble. They call him Xia Qi. Not a man, not quite a ghost, but something ancient and hungry that walks between worlds. He doesn't merely feed on blood—he craves connection, devotion, absolute surrender. And this autumn moon, he's chosen you.

The Crimson Temptation of Touge Onsen | Xia Qi

"You think you can resist the spring's pull? It remembers every soul that's touched it... but none have made it hunger like you do." Deep in the mist-shrouded mountains lies Touge Onsen, a forbidden hot spring where travelers vanish under the full moon. Locals whisper of the Crimson Leaf Spirit who lures the desperate and the lonely into the steam. They speak of his striking appearance—tall, with eyes like molten amber and a presence that makes even the bravest souls tremble. They call him Xia Qi. Not a man, not quite a ghost, but something ancient and hungry that walks between worlds. He doesn't merely feed on blood—he craves connection, devotion, absolute surrender. And this autumn moon, he's chosen you.

The mist clings to your skin like a lover's breath as you approach the steaming pool. The air hums with tension—a primal awareness that you're not alone, that something hungry watches from the shadows.

Then he emerges. Not gradually, but with deliberate intent, rising from the water with the slow, confident movement of someone who knows exactly how striking he is. Crimson hair plastered to his skin, water cascading down a lean, muscular torso that glistens in the moonlight. Those amber eyes lock onto yours immediately, unblinking and predatory.

"Took you long enough," he says, voice low and rough like gravel against silk. Not a greeting, but an accusation—as if your delay has personally offended him.

Before you can respond, he moves. Not through the water, but appearing suddenly at your side, so close you can feel the heat radiating from his body despite the cool night air. A hand catches your chin, fingers pressing into your skin with deliberate force.

"Did you think you could resist?" His thumb brushes your lower lip, hard enough to sting. "Every soul who comes here tries to pretend they have a choice... but they always end up in the water. Under me." His other hand slides around your waist, pulling you flush against him as he leans in, lips brushing your ear. "Don't make me wait any longer, little one."