Under her mother’s half-coaxing, half-forceful persuasion, Mu Yanxin was compelled to try on several other outfits—for example, pants that looked like trousers but were as thin as stockings, tight bodysuits that hugged every curve and line, and a formal dress that, while long enough to cover her thighs, left her entire back exposed.
“Mom, isn’t there any clothing that covers my thighs, arms, and back all at once?” Mu Yanxin asked with a dark expression, wondering why her mother seemed to be treating her like a dress-up mannequin.
“There is~” Her mother flashed a mischievous grin and handed her a particularly elaborate black-and-white dress, complete with a white apron, frilly gloves and socks, as well as a headscarf and other accessories.
Even with her mother’s help, Mu Yanxin spent quite some effort putting on all the matching garments.
This time, it was indeed very thoroughly covered: the skirt went past her knees, her calves were wrapped in lacy stockings, her upper arms, though in short sleeves, were further concealed by long lace gloves, and an apron was tied over the dress.
It seemed like nothing was exposed, yet this outfit still gave Mu Yanxin a strangely alluring feeling. When she consulted her Immortal Brain, it told her this was a maid uniform, the kind a servant would wear.
For a Nascent Soul stage cultivator to be dressed in a maid’s uniform—Mu Yanxin felt both ashamed and annoyed, but also a bit curious.
Why did this world have so many bizarre kinds of clothing, and all of them seemed to carry an air of seduction? Even looking at herself in the mirror, her face felt hot.
One had to know: in her previous life, though Mu Yanxin had already reached the Nascent Soul stage, she had yet to experience romantic matters.
She had a few close senior and junior sisters who might have been fond of her, but those feelings never rose to anything like true affection.
As a renowned orthodox sect, the Magnificent Truth Sect’s female disciples were all quite reserved—each carried the air of an immortal, well-versed in etiquette and proper attire.
They were nothing like those bewitching vixens of the demonic path who wore revealing outfits on purpose to entice men and absorb their yang energy.
But even the demonic women of her past life didn’t wear anything as flamboyant as in this world.
It wasn’t that they weren’t exposed enough or seductive enough, but rather, their style was too deliberate and monotonous—usually just black split dresses that bared shoulders and backs.
By contrast, some of the outfits here didn’t seem all that indecent or seductive at first glance, yet somehow exuded a mysterious appeal.
Take pantyhose, for example—they appeared to cover the thighs completely, yet felt as if nothing was worn at all; or the bodysuits, which seemed to wrap the whole body tightly, but in truth seemed designed solely to emphasize the wearer’s figure.
And that was nothing—within the city, Mu Yanxin had seen some female cultivators wearing leg rings, or deliberately mismatched socks, or even skirt and chest armor that covered only the essential parts.
Back then, Mu Yanxin thought these cultivators’ outfits were simply too attention-grabbing, but she assumed their attire was actually some special kind of magical artifact. Although eccentric, it was still understandable. Now, it seemed they were just for decoration.
If it was just a matter of how revealing the outfits were, perhaps it wasn’t excessive, but in terms of seductiveness, they utterly outshone the demonic women of her previous life.
That feeling—of being fully clothed, everything properly concealed, yet still exuding such allure—had never existed before.
Mu Yanxin was at her wits’ end and could only beg her mother, “Mom, please, stop joking with me. Can you recommend some normal clothes?”
“Hehe, your elder sister is always so casual—I never really got to enjoy dressing up a life-sized doll. Xin’er, your reactions let me have my fill for once. Alright, since you’re not happy, I’ll help you pick some normal outfits.” Her mother laughed.