Before departing for Zhenhe City, I summoned them all into the inner hall at the river bandit's hideout, eight women standing before me in a quiet semicircle, their presence thick with restrained heat.
Once, those eight pairs of eyes had measured me with suspicion, hunger, pride, and calculation, each guarding her own ambition like a hidden blade. But now the air between us had changed; their gazes no longer questioned or tested. They burned with something far more intimate, far more dangerous, a fierce, unmistakable sense of belonging.
Guiniang stood at the front, her mature curves wrapped in dark silk, her smile sharp yet obedient. Beside her, Hongli's crimson lips curved knowingly. Langyan leaned against a pillar, arms folded beneath her chest, pretending indifference. Zerou stood soft and quiet, but her gaze never left me.
Behind them, Jiangyuan and Jiangluan, the river-born twins, graceful and steady like twin blades drawn from the same sheath. Beixue, cool as northern frost. Heying, lively eyes barely hiding her excitement.
Each of them carried my Milky Dao Seeds within their dantian, accepted not through coercion but through deliberate choice, their spirits opening to mine without hesitation.
On the night before my departure, I did not stop at a single imprint; I inserted my Thick Dao Tool to plant Milky Dao Seeds inside each of them, deepening the resonance between us again and again. There was nothing hurried or reckless in it, only measured breath, steady circulation, and slow, intentional merging of qi, ensuring that the bond settled firmly, thoroughly, irrevocably into their cores.
Their bodies trembling not from pain, but from the overwhelming warmth of cultivation merging, my qi pouring into them, imprinting deeper bonds into flesh and spirit. They clung to me in turns, sometimes two at once, sometimes surrounding me, their breaths hot against my skin, their whispers bold and unrestrained.
Guiniang had tried to maintain her composure at first, her mature poise and teasing smile refusing to crack even as the Dao's heat coursed through her meridians, but in the end, she failed, her breath turning uneven beneath my touch.
Hongli laughed shamelessly as her cultivation surged, her boldness only intensifying as the resonance deepened, her fingers gripping tight as if daring the heavens to watch.
Langyan bit her lip so hard it nearly bled, stubbornly refusing to let a sound escape, until the pressure of rising qi shattered her restraint and a low, helpless moan slipped free.
Even Zerou, gentle and soft-spoken, clung to me with surprising hunger, her quiet whimpers betraying the storm building beneath her calm surface.
Jiangyuan and Jiangluan moved in eerie harmony, the river-born twins pressing close in perfect synchronization, their breaths rising and falling together as if guided by the same current, their cultivation intertwining around mine like twin streams merging into a single tide.
Beixue's cold facade shattered under the steady rhythm of circulating qi, frost melting into soft gasps as her disciplined exterior dissolved into warmth.
Heying hid her flushed face against my chest, too shy to meet my gaze yet utterly unwilling to let go, her hands gripping me with desperate sincerity.
By dawn, all eight lay around me in disheveled silk and glowing skin, their auras thicker and steadier than before, mine no less strengthened, while my Thick Dao Tool rested quietly at my side, silent and satisfied.
I rose first, adjusting my robe while they gathered themselves with disciplined calm despite the lingering heat in the room.
"From today onward," I said evenly, "no more robbery. No more kidnapping. The bandit base remains, and you remain, but you will wait for me." No one objected. They could all feel it now, the invisible tether between us, the Milky Dao Seeds not merely cultivation, but loyalty etched into their very marrow.
"You will select only women from among the captured bandits," I continued. "Only those you trust. And only those pleasing to the eye." Hongli smirked. Langyan gave a faint snort. Beixue simply inclined her head. "You may recruit from other bandits or nearby villages as well, but only women. No exceptions."
The reason needed no explanation. Once my Thick Dao Tool implanted Milky Dao Seeds inside these women, loyalty would be sealed, not through fear or chains, but through resonance, desire, and shared ascension. "I want an elite army," I said calmly. "A few hundred." Their eyes gleamed at the vision: an all-female force, powerful and utterly bound to me.
The rest of the captured bandits? "Sell them." Guiniang inclined her head; she already knew the slave channels, efficient, quiet, profitable.
I left ample supplies behind: food stores, pills and elixirs, defensive talismans, even several combat puppets. They would not struggle. They would consolidate, cultivate, and prepare. When I returned, the foundation of my loyal female legion would already be taking shape.
As I stepped out, Jiangyuan caught my sleeve. "Will you take someone with you?" she asked softly. "Not this time." Jiangluan's gaze dimmed but she stayed silent. Guiniang approached last, pressing close enough for warmth to seep through silk. "Do not take too long," she murmured, her voice both promise and warning. I gave a faint smile then left.
I arrived at Zhenhe City two days before the Gathering of Heroes was set to begin. The towering walls loomed across the horizon, banners snapping sharply in the wind. Even from a distance, I could sense countless auras colliding, chaotic, proud, hungry for recognition. By the time I entered through the gates, the streets were already overflowing with restless energy.
Mortals pushed heavy carts through crowded lanes while martial artists strode past with blades on their backs. Cultivators drifted through the streets in flowing robes, sect emblems gleaming with arrogance.
Vendors shouted, spirit beasts roared inside cages, talismans shimmered in open stalls. The air itself felt charged with anticipation. The gathering had yet to begin, but the city was already boiling. I walked calmly, aura restrained. No one knew me. Not yet.
The city brimmed with talent, beauty, and unchecked ambition, every street thick with those eager to carve their names into legend. The Gathering of Heroes would be a battlefield of reputation and power, a grand stage for others to prove themselves before the world. For me, however, it was something far simpler and far more intimate. It was a hunting ground.
I managed to secure a simple room at an inn several streets away from the central plaza where the Gathering would be held. It was not close to the heart of the commotion, but the price was reasonable and the location discreet. The room itself was neat and clean, a single bed placed against the wall, a wooden table by the window, and a faint scent of sandalwood lingering in the air.
There was no private bathtub inside, but that mattered little. Zhenhe City was prosperous enough to maintain several public bathhouses, their reputations well-known among travelers. For now, a quiet room and a lockable door were more than sufficient.
When I woke the next morning, I did not rush toward the gathering grounds. Instead, I chose to walk the city slowly, memorizing streets and intersections, observing the flow of people and power. Understanding a city was no different from understanding an opponent, it required patience.
As I turned along a busy avenue, I noticed several familiar faces among the crowd, those who had once been captured alongside me. They moved about in small groups, expressions still tinged with confusion. How they had been released or rearranged by fate no longer seemed their priority. Tomorrow's Gathering overshadowed everything else.
Zhenhe City revealed its true nature as I drifted southward.
The mighty Great Jinyu River cut along the southern edge like a vast silver serpent, its waters heavy with trade vessels and merchant ships. It was clear why the city flourished; it was a gateway between eastern and northern continents.
The commercial district near the ports was alive with relentless energy. Traders shouted over one another, carts rolled across stone streets, and the scent of foreign spices blended with sea air. Goods from distant lands changed hands without pause.
Slave shops lined several prominent streets, displaying exotic captives from the eastern islands and the northern continent, men, women, even spirit beasts bound by control talismans. Other stores sold rare ores, spirit herbs, and unique artifacts unavailable elsewhere. Specialized cultivator shops showcased peculiar tools, some humming faintly with spiritual energy.
Among these establishments stood several pleasure houses, their balconies draped in silk. Music flowed endlessly from within, strings and flutes weaving intoxicating melodies.
Dancers in light garments performed at the entrances, laughter bright and inviting. The air around them carried incense infused with subtle spiritual allure, enough to stir the hearts of mortals and tempt low-level cultivators into indulgence.
Further along the southern stretch, the military port stood firmly in the center of the trading zone, a deliberate show of authority. Navy ships were docked in disciplined rows, their hulls reinforced with spirit-forged materials. Behind them, the army barracks were positioned strategically, watchtowers rising above the docks.
Patrols moved in organized groups of twenty, armored and alert. With countless cultivators flooding the city for the Gathering, the local government had clearly increased security. The presence of soldiers was impossible to ignore; this was not merely a trading hub, but a fortified stronghold.
Crossing toward the western district, the atmosphere shifted. The noise lessened, replaced by a more dignified hum. There, I saw the Grand Alliance Pavilion rising above surrounding structures, its architecture grand and imposing.
Several tall towers pierced the sky within its compound, banners bearing noble and sect emblems fluttering proudly. People entered and exited constantly, envoys, disciples, merchants seeking favor.
Guards patrolled both outside and within the walls, their discipline refined. The Pavilion was not merely a building; it was the axis upon which power in this region balanced.
I paused briefly, observing.
Zhenhe City was more than a gathering place.
It was a convergence of trade, pleasure, military strength, and political ambition.
And in two days, it would become the center of the entire realm's attention.
As always, I sought out the local libraries before anything else. Knowledge was as valuable as spirit stones, and geography even more so. I spent hours studying maps, trade routes, river currents, mountain passes, quietly committing them to memory. Understanding the land around Zhenhe City would matter sooner or later.
Eastward along the Great Jinyu River, four days of steady travel would lead to Haiyue Port City, a massive harbor facing the Eastern Seas. It served as one of the primary gateways for merchants arriving from beyond those waters.
Exotic slaves from distant eastern islands, rare minerals, and unusual spirit materials were common there. The seafood alone was said to be unmatched, strange fish with translucent scales, giant crabs, luminous clams. Water-attributed spirit beasts were abundant in that region, making it attractive for cultivators of aquatic arts.
To the north lay Hanyue Town, known less for trade and more for indulgence and recovery. Open-air bathhouses dotted the area, steam rising constantly from natural hot springs. Inns built around these springs catered to cultivators seeking relaxation, healing, and secluded pavilions designed specifically for dual cultivation practices. It was a town where tension dissolved into mist and pleasure mingled with recovery.
Further northeast, some fifteen days by land, stood Shuangjing City, the capital of the Kingdom of Shuang. Built upon an elevated plateau surrounded by frostwood forests and low mountain ridges, it endured long winters and short, cool summers. The region was famous for ice palaces and rare northern spirit beasts aligned with frost and snow.
Exotic northern slaves could be found there, as well as the renowned maidens bearing the Yin Frostborne Body, women who cultivated cold arts with disciplined purity. It was said that any man who successfully dual-cultivated with such a maiden would experience a tremendous surge in cultivation.
Around Zhenhe City itself, numerous villages dotted the landscape within a day or two of travel. Farms, fishing settlements, small trade hubs, all feeding into the city's constant growth. The surrounding region was densely populated, prosperous, and tightly connected.
By the time I finished my research, the sun was already sinking below the horizon, casting amber light across tiled rooftops. I stepped out of the library, rolling my shoulders lightly, and began walking back toward my inn.
The streets were changing.
Day merchants packed their wares while lanterns flickered to life. Music began to swell from the southern district, softer at first, then layered with laughter and silk brushing against skin.
I slowed as I passed one of the larger pleasure houses. Its balconies glowed in warm crimson light, curtains swaying gently. The scent of incense drifted outward, sweet, intoxicating, infused with subtle spiritual energy meant to relax the mind and stir the senses.
Women stood near the entrance, draped in flowing silks that clung and shifted with every subtle movement, revealing curves in fleeting glimpses meant to ignite imagination rather than satisfy it.
Their sleeves slipped from pale shoulders, collars dipping just low enough to tempt the eye. Each smile was practiced yet warm, each gaze bright with invitation, as though they had already chosen me before I had chosen them.
Lantern light bathed the doorway in a soft crimson glow, casting their skin in hues of gold and rose. The scent of incense drifted outward, sweet, heavy, threaded with something faintly intoxicating that brushed against my senses like invisible fingers.
Laughter spilled from within, layered with the gentle rhythm of strings and flutes. The entire building seemed to breathe, alive with anticipation.
I paused at the threshold.
Tomorrow, the Gathering of Heroes would begin, alliances, rivalries, reputation, power. Every word and gesture would matter. Every aura would be weighed. Strategy would replace leisure, and restraint would become necessary.
Tonight, however, I allowed myself a different calculation.
A night of indulgence would not dull my edge. If anything, it would sharpen it. Tension released became clarity. Desire acknowledged became strength. The Dao did not forbid pleasure, it refined it.
With steady steps and an unhurried breath, I crossed into the pleasure house. Warmth enveloped me at once, silk brushing lightly against my sleeve as a hostess guided me inward. Music swelled, low and seductive, vibrating gently through the wooden floors. Perfumed air wrapped around my senses, teasing but not overwhelming.
For this night, I would not be a strategist or a rising contender.
I would simply be a man surrounded by beauty, letting the city's most tempting sanctuary claim me, only until dawn.