Deviant: No Longer Human-Chapter 689: New Sister?

Zswoosh…

The airplane surged forward, its engines roaring as it left the Shanghai International Airport, piercing through the morning sky like a bullet.

The first-class cabin wasn't just luxury—it was a floating pleasure palace, built for indulgence, sin, and everything in between.

Instead of stiff upright seats and boring business-class isolation, the first-class section was designed like a lavish sky lounge. Plush, L-shaped reclining sofas were placed at an angle, allowing passengers to sprawl like kings.

Seats weren't just seats—they were invitations.

The kind where a man could lean back, rest his head on a woman's lap, extend his legs across another beauty's thighs, and let nature take its course.

And right now? That man was none other than one of the most powerful beings alive.

A pair of long, stocking-clad legs strode down the aisle, wrapped in sheer black silk that clung like a lover's embrace. The stewardess moved like temptation itself, her hips swaying with every step, the scandalously tight fabric of her navy-blue skirt hugging her perky ass like it was painted on.

She stopped in front of him, towering in glossy heels, her crisp white blouse one deep breath away from total surrender. The top buttons had already succumbed, revealing just enough to torment the male imagination, the delicate lace of her bra peeking through like a forbidden secret.

"Sir," her voice was a honeyed milk, thick with bulging promises. She leaned in, the intoxicating scent of jasmine and vanilla swirling around him. "Would you like anything to drink?"

She didn't just stand—she bent. Subtly, teasingly, her generous curves pressing into his side as if gravity itself was conspiring to make her chest his personal headrest.

Her fingers grazed the edge of his tray table—a fleeting touch, deliberate yet innocent enough to escape scandal. Her nails, painted a deep, sinful red, glinted under the cabin lights, matching the seductive glint in her eyes.

"Shh… don't disturb him."

The soft, chiding voice came from near him, filled with a subtle warning, and the stewardess smiled unbothered, tilting her head. "Well," she winked, "If he needs anything… or anyone, I'm right here."

Tap… Tap…

The stewardess twisted her hips one last time before strutting away, her tight navy skirt bouncing with each step, leaving behind only the scent of jasmine and an invitation she never even bothered to hide.

"What a bitch…"

Wang Xueying's voice was flat but laced with disgust as she lounged on the L-shaped first-class sofa, one long leg crossed over the other.

Her curly dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, messy in a way that made her irritation look effortlessly sexy. She wore a deep red off-shoulder blouse, its neckline dipping just enough to tease, paired with a black, body-hugging skirt that emphasized her toned thighs.

She wasn't the type to dress for men. But she didn't mind if her brother looked.

The first-class cabin wasn't designed for modesty anyway.

Originally meant for corporate elites, the L-shaped lounge sofas facing each other formed a private, enclosed rectangular space. A failed experiment in "business comfort," it had instead evolved into a rich man's wet dream.

Only four of these "High-Mile Playgrounds" existed per flight, far apart from each other, ensuring absolute privacy, indulgence, and no interruptions.

Only female stewardesses were allowed inside.

And as long as you paid ten times the price of first-class, no one asked questions.

Wang Xiao?

He hadn't just booked a seat.

He bought the whole damn cabin.

Five people sat in this space. The rest of the seats? Bought out—left empty on purpose.

Wang Xueying groaned, dragging a hand down her face.

"What's even the need to take a plane?" she muttered. "Can't you just... fly?"

Wait.

Can he fly?

Of course, he can.

What a stupid question.

Her gaze flickered toward him, and she immediately regretted it.

Wang Xiao lay sprawled like a king, stretched across the entire L-shaped recliner, his head resting on Wenxi's lap.

She sat straight-backed, an almost regal air around her, dressed in pure white—always white. A tight turtleneck sweater hugged her delicate neck, the thick fabric soft against her snow-white hair, cascading like silk over her shoulders.

Her blue eyes, cold like winter frost, barely glanced down as she absently combed her fingers through his hair.

His legs? Draped across Yue's thighs.

She looked similar but dangerously different. Blonde, with the same deep blue eyes, but with a hint of... warmth. She wore a thin, satin slip dress, ice-blue in color, its straps delicate, its neckline dangerously low. The silk hugged her figure like a second skin, the hem barely reaching mid-thigh, riding up every time she shifted.

She tried to push his legs off.

She failed.

She gave up.

Wang Mei, seated opposite, watched in quiet distress.

She was the picture of a perfect, docile wife. Her straight dark hair framed her face softly, her slightly crystal-gray eyes shimmering under the cabin's dim golden lights. She wore a modest, high-slit cheongsam, soft crimson in color, hugging her waist just enough to remind everyone that modesty didn't mean boring.

She wasn't saying anything.

But she was thinking everything.

And the worst part?

She wasn't even surprised anymore.

Wang Xueying, on the other hand, was very, very surprised.

Because the entire cabin was empty—except for them and one female bartender, standing at the far end.

That's it.

And now that she thought about it—

This trip to Macau had absolutely nothing to do with celebrating anyone's day.

Wang Xiao smiled, casually pointing toward the reinforced window beside him, swirling the drink Wang Mei had poured for him in one hand, before taking a long sip.

"Xueying, believe me or not, if you complain one more time, I'm throwing you out that window."

His tone was casual. His eyes were not.

She shivered.

"Brother… what crime did I commit to meet someone like you?"

"What crime?" He chuckled. "Obviously—ending up in my room in the middle of—"

"HEY! TONE IT DOWN!"

She lunged forward, slamming a hand over his mouth, eyes darting toward the bartender.

The bartender, who had been minding her own business behind the bar, suddenly perked up. Her eyebrows arched, her face flushing a deep, scandalous red, as though her mind had just cooked up the filthiest possible scenario.

Wang Xiao?

Unbothered.

In fact, he was having the time of his life.

If he hadn't brought his sisters and daughters, he'd be drowning in a sex party right now, with the entire female crew at his mercy.

And if anyone had a problem with that? Blame Anran.

She was the one who booked the entire cabin for every flight he took.

Speaking of which…

That flirty stewardess from earlier—the one with the wavy platinum blonde hair twisted into a tight bun?

That was Anran herself.

She had completely changed her look—again.

And somehow, with just a new hairstyle, some subtle tweaks, she had once again transformed herself into a different woman.

The "upgrade by ten years" as Wang Xiao liked to call it.

One second she looked twenty-five. The next? Fifteen.

And right now?

The mature, sultry stewardess that just walked past them?

She looked nothing like Anran.

The best part?

Other than Wang Xiao, only Wenxi and Yue recognized her.

Wang Xueying and Wang Mei?

Completely clueless.

As for Anran's randomly spawning, uninvited presence on his flights?

Wang Xiao and his daughters had long since accepted it as part of reality.

"Dad~ are we having a new sister?"

Wenxi, idly pressing his head deeper onto her lap, suddenly spoke, her soft, melodic voice almost too casual for the sheer absurdity of the question.

Yue, who had already made peace with his legs draped over her thighs, blinked and frowned slightly.

"New sister?"

The entire cabin fell silent.

Every woman in the enclosed high-mile playground turned their heads as if Wenxi had just dropped a nuclear bomb.

New sister?

Did she mean—another daughter?