Rejuvenation
1235 Words
“Last night, a Japanese ship smuggling people into the country docked in Los Angeles,” Celestian said simply. “The Chinese gangs got advance notice, set up an ambush, and wiped out every Japanese crew member who came to receive the cargo at the port.”
That was all he said—everything that couldn’t be said, he left out entirely.
“Human trafficking?” Beckett frowned. “We didn’t receive any intel on that at all. And honestly, this wouldn’t even fall entirely under the LAPD’s jurisdiction. If we pursued it, we’d have to coordinate with the FBI. That’s a nightmare.”
More importantly, she knew cases like this couldn’t be investigated internally. No one could say how many cops inside the department had already been bought by the gangs.
Shaking her head, she changed the subject. “What about the people who were rescued? Where did they go?”
“This time, the Japanese were smuggling women from Southeast Asia,” Celestian said, raising an eyebrow with faint amusement. “Do you really want to know what happened to them?”
Beckett frowned, then stopped asking.
She knew the reality all too well. Compared to being forced into p**********n by the Japanese gangs, the women rescued by the Chinese gangs at least had options. Those who wanted to return to Asia were helped to find work, earn enough for travel expenses, and were then quietly smuggled back home.
In urgent cases, some were simply dropped outside their country’s consulate, and that was that. But very few chose that route.
Most of them hadn’t been kidn*pped. They had come because they couldn’t survive back home. They sought out smugglers themselves, paid everything they had, and risked their lives to reach America. Once here, almost no one wanted to go back.
Los Angeles—the City of Angels, or as some called it, the Fallen Angel City—had an enormous global reputation. It was a coastal city, close to Mexico, and one of the largest hubs for undocumented immigrants in the United States.
It also happened to be one of the most lax cities when it came to enforcing immigration law.
The reason was simple: undocumented immigrants generated massive economic value. As long as appearances were maintained, the so-called “free” city government of Los Angeles didn’t look too closely.
Of course, once you truly caught the attention of federal authorities, that was another story entirely.
Beckett knew there was nothing she could do. Even if she traced the women’s whereabouts and filed a report, the LAPD wouldn’t mobilize manpower to track them down one by one. The bureaucratic fallout alone would be unbearable.
And as for the Chinese gangs—there was no legal angle. They hadn’t done the smuggling. That responsibility lay with the Japanese gangs.
If this case moved forward, the only result would be Beckett filing the report while Immigration and the FBI swooped in and claimed all the credit. Everyone else in the LAPD would get nothing—except extra trouble.
Beckett was smart. Unless officers caught something red-handed at the port, the department would never make a major move. Even if she somehow pieced everything together, pushing it up the chain would only alienate her colleagues.
The cost far outweighed the benefit.
She knew when to stop.
From her expression, Celestian could tell she’d already made her decision.
He cleared his throat and looked at her. “Catherine, you haven’t been sleeping well lately, have you? You’ve been pulling all-nighters.”
“No choice,” Beckett said, taking a sip of the iced coffee and frowning slightly. “Too many cases.”
“That’s not good.”
Celestian stood and moved behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders. As he began massaging, he spoke calmly. “Have you noticed you’ve been getting irritated more easily? Rougher skin? That’s endocrine imbalance. If this keeps up, you’ll age fast.”
Despite herself, Beckett relaxed under his hands. No matter how tough she was, she was still a woman. Vanity was human nature.
“That’s actually why I came today,” she said with a resigned sigh. “I was planning to pick up a few prescriptions and properly recover.”
Celestian shook his head as he worked. “All medicine has toxicity, even traditional Chinese herbs. Taken long-term, it adds up. What you really need is rest. One good, solid sleep does more than any drug.”
After a brief pause, he sighed.
“How about this—I’ll give you a complimentary rejuvenation session. Take a proper break. Stay for lunch, too. I’ll make you a medicinal meal and help you rebuild.”
“Alright. Thank you.”
Beckett looked up and smiled. “Guess I finally get to experience that ten-thousand-dollar rejuvenation treatment, huh?”
Celestian shook his head helplessly. “That price is for Hollywood stars. If it’s cheap, they won’t even look at you. This so-called rejuvenation is really just specialized technique.”
He gestured toward the bed. “Alright. Get undressed.”
“Undressed?”
Beckett stared at him in disbelief. “You’re not planning to do something illegal, are you?”
“Oh, come on.” Celestian sighed. “Just down to your underwear.”
He shrugged. “Though honestly, fully naked works best. Fewer blind spots.”
Beckett waved it off. “I don’t care. I’m more worried about the woman living downstairs.”
Celestian ignored her and began setting up the long massage bed in the corner, layering four towels carefully. He took out a bottle of water from the cabinet and set it aside.
It was Lunar Purified Water, infused with his cultivated Taiyin essence. It was especially beneficial for women.
Once he lit a specially prepared medicinal incense and loosened his shoulders, he turned around—only to see Beckett already stripped down to her underwear.
A flicker of disappointment crossed his eyes.
Seeing it, Beckett couldn’t help but laugh.
Celestian washed his hands and said, “Alright. Lie face down. Just sleep.”
“Okay.”
Curious but trusting, Beckett lay down on the bed.
After washing his hands, Celestian’s expression turned solemn. He placed both hands on her smooth back and began the massage slowly and methodically.
As a fully trained cultivator, his knowledge of meridians and pressure points far exceeded that of ordinary practitioners. Under his hands, Beckett felt herself grow lighter, as if floating on mist.
Before she realized it, she drifted into deep sleep.
Only after the massage was complete did Celestian begin the true rejuvenation.
Massage alone would never produce results this dramatic. Without it, he wouldn’t command such prestige among Hollywood elites. The real secret lay in the various spirit waters he used.
He tossed the entire bottle of Lunar Purified Water into the air. With a surge of true qi, the water hovered, suspended midair, reshaped into a rectangular veil matching the size of the bed.
Under his control, it broke into countless droplets, gently falling onto Beckett’s body.
At the same time, Celestian’s hands moved in rapid, precise strikes, driving the spirit water deep into her body—nourishing her from the inside out.
Half an hour later, it was done.
Celestian finally exhaled, wiped the sweat from his brow, and covered Beckett with a blanket. After packing everything away, he quietly left the room alone.
- Writer
