Another month had passed, and I found myself in Jintian City, alone, the streets bustling yet distant from my thoughts.
No wives at my side.
No concubines trailing in laughter.
No familiar warmth tugging at my sleeves or echoing behind my steps.
The decision had been deliberate.
So I came first, as a scout… and as a foundation layer.
I arrived just yesterday, stepping off a public celestial ship as it docked upon one of the capital's sky platforms. The journey itself had taken only two days, an absurdly short time compared to the ten days such a distance would demand on foot. The Kingdom of Jin's infrastructure was impressive: fixed routes, regulated schedules, and spirit-powered vessels departing from nearly every major city.
Pay a fee. Board the ship. Cross half the kingdom in comfort.
Efficiency like that did not exist without reason.
Moving an entire household, wives, concubines, children, spirit beasts, into the capital was not something to be done rashly. Jintian City was vast, powerful, and merciless to the unprepared. Before bringing my family into its currents, I needed to see it clearly, understand its rhythms, and carve out a place worthy of them.
As the imperial capital of the Kingdom of Jin, it was the convergence point of power. Beneath its golden skies stood the headquarters of numerous great sects.
In Jintian, politics, cultivation, and ambition intertwined, each sect watching the others in silent rivalry, each waiting for the slightest shift in imperial favor to tilt the balance of heaven.
From the sky platform, Jintian City revealed itself layer by layer, its sheer scale impossible to miss.
I could clearly see the outer walls stretching endlessly, thick and imposing like a mountain range carved by human hands. Beyond them rose the inner-outer walls, then deeper still the inner-inner walls, each ring tighter, more refined, more heavily protected than the last. At the very heart of it all stood the final barrier, the walls encircling the imperial palace, vast and silent, exuding an authority that pressed down even from this distance.
The city itself was enormous.
From above, tall buildings crowded the landscape, some towering high enough to rival small mountains, their roofs engraved with faintly glowing formations. Streets ran like veins between districts, packed with movement, cultivators, merchants, servants, and spirit beasts all flowing in ordered chaos.
High in the air, powerful cultivators flew through designated aerial lanes, their paths clearly marked by invisible formations. None strayed from them. The rules here were not suggestions, they were enforced. I could see armored guards stationed everywhere, on towers, at gates, along major thoroughfares, their gazes sharp, their auras disciplined. From time to time, one would move, intercepting someone who had crossed a line they shouldn't have.
Order, backed by absolute force.
Scattered throughout the city were strange, unique structures, buildings of unfamiliar shape and purpose. Some radiated heavy spiritual pressure, others shimmered faintly with restrained power. From this height, I couldn't tell whether they were auction halls, sect outposts, grand libraries, or something far more dangerous.
But their presence alone spoke volumes.
Below, life surged endlessly, bustling, layered, alive. Wealth and poverty, ambition and desperation, all compressed into this colossal organism called Jintian City. Seen from above, it wasn't merely a capital.
It was a machine.
One that refined people the same way fire refined ore, burning away the weak, tempering the strong, and forging legends for those who survived its heat.
But today, my purpose was far more grounded.
I wasn't here to clash, to compete, or to chase fleeting opportunity. I was here to put down roots.
My goal was clear: a medium-sized estate, one expansive enough to comfortably house at least five hundred people, and preferably with room to grow even beyond that.
Yinqing, Yinxuan, and Yinyin would also soon become part of my family, and they would not be the last. My wives, my concubines, my daughters, each of them needed more than mere shelter. They needed space to cultivate, to train, to rest, to laugh, and to raise the next generation without constraint.
I wasn't searching for cramped courtyards or borrowed halls. I needed training grounds, inner gardens rich with qi, secluded rooms for meditation, and halls large enough to gather the entire family under one roof.
And beyond that… I was honest with myself.
My path was not one that ended quietly. There would be more wives, more concubines, more children born under my name. A growing bloodline demanded foresight, not improvisation. This estate would not be a temporary stop or a convenient residence, it would be the foundation. A place where my roots would sink deep into the capital's soil, where my family's strength would accumulate year after year, until this name carried weight on its own.
I wasn't just looking for land.
I was choosing the ground where my legacy would begin to take shape.
It would be home, the foundation upon which my bloodline would expand.
With that thought steady in my mind, I began to walk.
I started near the southern side of the city, close to where I had arranged temporary lodging. This district was lively but restrained, rows of inns and taverns of varying grades, restaurants filled with fragrance and noise, street vendors calling out prices, spiritual trinkets laid out on cloth mats. Cultivators passed by in every direction, some relaxed, some sharp-eyed, all carrying their own purposes.
Further down the road, the atmosphere subtly shifted.
Music drifted through the air, soft strings, teasing flutes, laughter woven between notes. Pleasure houses lined the street ahead, lanterns swaying gently even in daylight. Beautiful women danced at the entrances, sleeves flowing, eyes bright, movements practiced and inviting. It was a familiar sight, one I understood well… but today, I passed through without slowing.
My destination lay deeper.
Crossing into the inner-outer wall, the noise thinned, replaced by a calmer, heavier presence. This was the residential district, where wealth settled and power slept. The streets widened. The air grew cleaner, infused with steady qi. Guards became more discreet but no less numerous.
And there they were.
Manors.Estates.Compounds.
One after another, stretching down long avenues. Some modest, some sprawling, some guarded by formations subtle enough to make my skin prickle. High walls of spirit stone, gates carved with family crests, inner courtyards hidden behind layers of privacy. Each one represented years, sometimes generations, of accumulation.
I walked slowly, eyes observant, measuring space not just in land but in potential.
This wasn't a place to rush.
Somewhere among these estates was the ground where my family would take root, where laughter and cultivation would intertwine, where future heirs would take their first steps under formation-lit skies.
As I walked through the residential districts, I began to take careful note of what the city quietly offered. Behind tall walls and sealed gates, I spotted empty estates, some long abandoned, others newly vacated, each carrying a different air.
A few had the right size, their courtyards wide and halls deep, while others were nothing but open tracts of land, marked with boundary stones and faint formation traces, waiting for someone bold enough to shape them.
I memorized their locations, measured distances between districts, noted the surrounding flow of qi. This wasn't something to rush.
By the time the sun began to tilt westward, my steps carried me into a property agency, a well-maintained hall lined with floating jade plaques and formation-lit maps. The owner, a sharp-eyed middle-aged cultivator, listened without interruption as I listed my requirements. When I finished, he nodded once and unfurled a rough map of Jintian City, hovering it between us.
He pointed out several options.
The southern and eastern districts held a handful of smaller estates, respectable, quiet, and well-priced. They could meet my needs for now, but even he admitted that once the household grew beyond five hundred people, those places would begin to feel cramped, their expansion limited by surrounding neighbors and formations.
Then his finger moved west.
The western district was different. Larger estates, deeper foundations, wider spacing between properties. Even the smallest among them already met my requirements, and more importantly, they came with room to expand, unused land, flexible boundaries, and formation layouts designed for growth rather than preservation.
I didn't hesitate.
"I'll take the estate at the western district," I said.
Spirit stones changed hands, contracts were finalized, and ownership formations were transferred. By the time I stepped back onto the street, the estate deed rested in my hand, still warm with freshly imprinted qi.
The first step was complete.
Now… it was time to get to work.
—
The next morning, I woke before dawn, mind clear and intent settled.
The estate was secured, the deeds warm in my storage ring, but an empty estate was nothing more than stone and silence. Puppets could move earth, raise walls, polish floors, even carve formations with tireless precision. Yet when it came to the finer details, daily upkeep, atmosphere, the quiet rhythm of life, there was no substitute for human hands.
With that decided, I set out toward the slave district.
Jintian City did not hide such places. They were regulated, orderly, watched carefully by guards and formation arrays. Whether one approved or not mattered little; in a city like this, practicality ruled above sentiment. A large household required structure, and structure required people.
Inside the shops, rows of slaves were displayed behind light-binding formations that hummed softly, a constant reminder of control. Men and women alike stood within those invisible cages, some rigid with fear, backs straight as if discipline had been beaten into muscle and bone, others slack and distant, eyes emptied by years of being passed from hand to hand.
My attention, however, drifted naturally toward the women.
Some were clothed in simple, revealing garments meant to outline curves and posture without pretense. Others wore almost nothing at all, their bodies left bare under the cold lights, not out of intimacy, but appraisal, skin tone, muscle definition, bone structure, all laid out like merchandise. A display meant to show that these bodies were healthy, unmarred, and worth spirit stones.
Deeper inside, the noise swelled.
An auction platform dominated the central hall, crowded with cultivators and wealthy merchants, voices clashing in sharp bursts as bids rose and fell. The air vibrated with greed and impatience, "special stock" was being sold. Broken-core cultivators with residual talent, rare bloodlines stripped of protection, slaves with unusual constitutions or half-awakened affinities. Each announcement drew gasps, laughter, or sharp intakes of breath, depending on the price.
I moved through it all calmly, unhurried.
My Perception Eyes swept not just the slaves, but the crowd itself, buyers sizing up goods, guards watching for trouble, hidden formations embedded in the walls. Qi signatures flickered everywhere, overlapping like threads in a tangled loom. I wasn't here to be dazzled or rushed.
I was looking for potential.
Not perfection, not rarity for rarity's sake, but bodies that could endure training, minds that hadn't fully broken, foundations that could still be shaped. Amid the noise and spectacle, I observed in silence, letting the chaos wash past me as I searched for those worth taking with me.
Most did not interest me.
Not because they were unappealing, but because their qi was thin, unstable, or warped by despair. I wasn't searching for anything extraordinary, not another Xueyin or Xueyang, but I also refused mediocrity. If they were to serve my household for years, perhaps decades, they needed resilience.
Eventually, a handful caught my attention.
From the southern continent, they stood slightly apart, instinctively forming their own quiet circle. Their skin held a warm, sun-touched hue, neither pale nor dark, but kissed by the filtered light of dense jungles where sunlight slipped through thick canopies in scattered beams rather than blazing from open skies.
The air of those lands seemed to linger on them, humid, wild, alive. Dark hair fell heavy down their backs, some braided with simple cords, others loose in glossy waves framing strong, expressive faces shaped by heat and rain.
Their eyes were large and watchful, deep as shaded forest pools, holding caution without surrender. Full, naturally flushed lips softened rounder features that concealed firm resolve beneath.
Their beauty was lush and primal, sensual without trying. Even in stillness, strength revealed itself, straight shoulders, firm waists, steady thighs accustomed to uneven jungle paths and relentless climates.
Their qi matched their origins. It did not flicker or scatter nervously. It moved warm and steady.
The rest I chose with equal care, twenty in total. Each woman was beautiful, but none were selected as fragile ornaments. These were women capable of work, endurance, and growth. With training, they would become more than attendants, refined, loyal, and strong.
I concluded the purchase swiftly and had formal slave contracts bound to each of them, an additional layer of assurance while the manor was still little more than walls and empty halls. Under normal circumstances, loyalty could be sealed far more intimately, Milky Dao Seeds inside of each of them, enough to bind intent and obedience without doubt.
But this was not the time for that.
Renovation came first. Speed and order mattered more than anything else, and for that, absolute reliability was required. Until Long Manor stood fully awakened, these contracts would serve as restraint and guarantee alike.
With the terms finalized, I instructed the attendants to escort all twenty women directly to the estate, provide them temporary quarters, basic provisions, and clear instructions.
Then I turned to the next task.
The materials district was far livelier, caravans unloading timber, stacks of stone blocks etched with quarry seals, shops overflowing with tools both mundane and enchanted. I purchased some quantities of ordinary wood, stone, metal fittings, and construction tools. Nothing extravagant. This phase was about foundations, not refinement.
I moved through several more shops after that, my pace unhurried but thorough. Lamps first, spirit-oil and formation-fed alike, then furniture frames, storage containers, and full sets of kitchenware. Each purchase felt like laying another brick in the foundation of Long Manor's future.
Last came the custom craftsmen.
I commissioned bed frames and bedding made to order, large, solid constructions designed to hold many bodies at once, reinforced with subtle formations that encouraged smoother circulation and increased absorption of spiritual qi. Indulgence for its own sake, practicality and foresight. A place where cultivation, rest, and intimacy could blend without strain.
By the time the sun dipped low and the city lights began to glow, my storage ring felt satisfyingly full, heavy with wood and silk, stone and steel, intent and preparation. The estate was still quiet and empty, but its bones were already taking shape in my hands.
Only then did I return to the estate.
When I arrived at the estate, the maids were already waiting outside the gates, lined up neatly with the attendants from the agency. The transfer was finalized without delay, jade slips exchanged, seals verified, ownership firmly settled in my name.
Only then did I pause.
Standing before the tall gates and silent walls, I gave the place its name.
"Heavenly Pleasure Harem Estate"
With that decided, I took out a brush and ink, and with steady strokes wrote the name onto a temporary wooden placard, fixing it above the entrance. It wasn't grand, nor permanent, but it carried intent. A proper nameplate, carved and reinforced with formations, could wait until later.
For now, this was enough. The estate had a name, and with it, an identity taking its first breath.
There was no ceremony after that. We went straight to work.
I ordered a portion of the estate cleared first, just enough for rest. Storage rings opened, tools appeared, sleeves were rolled up. I released several puppets and sent them ahead, directing them to clean the largest room within the manor. The maids followed, working alongside the constructs, their movements careful at first, then gradually more confident as dust and neglect were swept away.
By the time the work was done, the room was clean enough to breathe in, empty but ready.
I retrieved bedding from my storage ring, thick quilts, cushions, and layered mats, and laid them out. The maids hesitated when they realized there were no separate quarters yet, exchanging glances filled with uncertainty.
I only smiled.
"I don't mind," I said casually. "I come from humble origins. Sleeping together like this is nothing unusual."
That seemed to ease them. Slowly, tension drained from their shoulders, and they began arranging the bedding with more care, more warmth.
As night settled over Heavenly Pleasure Harem Estate, we rested together in that single, freshly cleaned room. No excess, no indulgence, just the quiet beginning of something larger.
For now, that was enough.