Morning light slipped through the curtains, soft and golden. Haotian stirred first, his rainbow eyes opening to the weight and warmth of countless arms draped around him.
His wives lay across his chest and shoulders, their breathing deep and content, hair spilled like rivers of silk. The familiar rhythm of their presence made him smile—yet today, there was one more heartbeat against him.
His gaze softened. Xiangyin.
Last night's memory flickered through his mind—the trembling of her lips as she first gave in, her cry breaking as she finally surrendered herself. He remembered the way her slim waist quivered in his hands, her voice rising as she moved with him, matching his strength until her composure shattered into unrestrained cries of pleasure.
For centuries she had been the sect master, the untouchable pillar of discipline. Last night, she had been just a woman—yielding, writhing, calling his name until her voice broke.
After her, the others had claimed him one by one, weaving the night into endless waves of laughter, sighs, and cries of devotion. He had split his strength, his heart, his presence between them all, until exhaustion carried them into sleep.
Now, with dawn at hand, Xiangyin lay nestled among them—her face serene, cheeks still pink.
One by one, the women stirred awake. Yinxue blinked first, then smirked when her eyes landed on Xiangyin.
"Well, well… look who decided to join us properly."
Ziyue stretched languidly, her voice low and teasing. "Sect Master Xiangyin, the image of cold elegance… and yet, last night, you were louder than all of us."
Xiangyin's eyes flew open, her face burning crimson. "Y-you—!"
Shuyue leaned forward, giggling wickedly. "Seven hundred years old, but in this bed, you were just another girl."
Even Yueru, usually the quieter one, hid her smile behind a hand, her eyes shining with amusement. "Elder or not… you're our sister now."
Lianhua chuckled warmly, brushing a hand along Xiangyin's cheek. "Don't bother resisting. You've been claimed. Last night made it clear—you belong with us."
Xiangyin buried her face against the sheets, her composure shattered. "You're all… insufferable…"
The wives laughed together, their teasing merciless, their joy boundless. The morning air filled with warmth and mischief, binding them closer than ever.
Haotian simply lay back, his arms wrapped around them all, listening to their voices. His smile deepened.
The Eternal Yin Orchid Sect no longer had five phoenixes.
It now had six.
The morning sun spilled through the high windows, painting the chamber in golden light.
Haotian stood still in the center, his silver-white hair loose, his rainbow eyes calm, as his wives—now six—gathered around him.
He didn't need their help. His cultivation alone could weave robes finer than any hand. But today, none of them would allow him such simplicity.
"This is something we must do," Yinxue said firmly, fastening the inner robe. "We are your wives. This is our duty, our honor."
Ziyue knelt, smoothing the hems with delicate precision. "No attendant could ever replace us."
Shuyue tied the sash around his waist, lips pursed in focus. "You are our husband, our commander. No one else has the right."
Yueru adjusted the pauldrons over his shoulders, her touch lingering with quiet tenderness.
Lianhua combed his flowing silver hair, tying it high with the ribbon that gleamed like molten light.
And Xiangyin… her hands trembled faintly as she secured the outer cloak across his back. Yet her smile was radiant. After centuries of leading alone, to stand here as his wife, part of this circle… Her heart swelled with a happiness she had never thought she would feel.
At last, he stood fully dressed—an emperor in all but name, yet softened by the devotion that clothed him.
Haotian smiled and looked at each of them in turn. He kissed them one by one, lips lingering, his eyes carrying warmth that made them flush.
Then his expression grew solemn.
"Keep cultivating. This path is no longer slow. Every day counts. Only Xiangyin will accompany me as representative of the Eternal Yin Orchid Sect."
They all nodded in unison. None argued. Their gazes burned with resolve.
Haotian extended his hand. Space rippled and split before him into a rift of swirling light. He wrapped his arm around Xiangyin's slim waist, holding her close, and together they stepped through.
The remaining wives stood in silence, watching the rift close.
Yinxue sighed softly. "We must hurry."
Ziyue nodded. "He carries too much alone. We cannot lag behind."
One by one, they turned away, their robes trailing as they left to resume cultivation. The courtyard echoed with their determination.
The Eternal Yin Orchid Sect was quiet once more.
But in its heart burned six flames—and one dragon rising to meet the world.
The rift shimmered around them, threads of light bending like rivers as Haotian guided Xiangyin through.
Though the journey was only moments, he turned his head to her. His rainbow eyes lingered on her figure, and a mischievous smile curved his lips.
She wore a crimson robe dress embroidered with golden phoenixes, her hair adorned with delicate ornaments that shimmered with firelight. The robes hugged her form closely, accentuating every curve, and the high slit of her gown revealed the pale length of her thigh above stockings that rose to her mid-leg.
Haotian chuckled softly. "Beautiful… and dangerous. You'll set the Summit aflame before we even speak."
Xiangyin flushed, trying to keep her composure. "You… behave yourself."
But his hand brushed along her waist, tracing her silhouette, his touch unhurried yet insistent. She caught his wrist, eyes wide, but he leaned down and stole a kiss.
Her protest melted in an instant. She sighed into the kiss, gripping his robes as her body betrayed her resolve.
"C-couldn't you at least wait until night?" she whispered breathlessly beneath his lips.
He broke the kiss just long enough to grin. "That was last night. This is today. And besides—" he kissed her again, deeper, drawing a small gasp from her—"you must look ready for the Summit."
Her face burned as he murmured against her lips. "What… what does that mean?"
Haotian only smiled and kissed her once more.
The rift suddenly spat them out into the open skies above the Summit grounds. Sovereigns and sect envoys below turned their gazes upward, just in time to witness the pair locked together in a heated kiss as they descended.
Xiangyin's eyes flew open in alarm. She pulled back quickly, her cheeks scarlet, but Haotian leaned close and whispered, his voice rich with amusement:
"Now you look stunning… and ready."
She turned slowly, dread creeping in as she realized dozens of Sovereigns and elders were watching in stunned silence.
Her smile flickered nervously, but Haotian's arm remained firmly around her waist, his presence unshaken, his aura serene. To the world, their entrance was less scandal and more declaration.
The Eternal Yin Orchid Sect had arrived.
Gasps and whispers rippled like waves through the gathered Sovereigns and sect envoys. Some stared in disbelief, others hid smirks behind their sleeves.
"Was that… Sect Master Xiangyin?"
"Locked in a kiss with him, in front of everyone?"
"Impossible… and yet…""So it's true then—Haotian's Dao draws every flame to him…"
Haotian landed with perfect composure, silver-white hair gleaming under the morning sun, rainbow eyes calm as though nothing at all had happened.
Xiangyin, on the other hand, tried desperately to shrink behind him, wishing she could vanish into the void. Her face burned hotter than the phoenix flames embroidered on her robe.
Just then, a strong, clear female voice cut across the murmurs.
"Xiangyin, Haotian—come here!"
The two turned at once.
Standing with undeniable authority was Yuying, one of the Four Emperor Dragons. Her sapphire eyes sparkled with mischief and warmth.
Haotian smiled faintly. "Ancestors."
He took Xiangyin's trembling hand firmly, guiding her forward with steady steps. Together they landed before the four. Haotian bowed deeply.
"Haotian greets his ancestors."
Yuying gave a nod of approval before turning her gaze on Xiangyin. Her expression softened into one of unmistakable delight.
"Well, well… Xiangyin." Her lips curved, eyes glinting. "So distant? That won't do."
Before Xiangyin could react, Yuying stepped forward and slipped her arm around her, pulling her close in a playful embrace.
Xiangyin froze. "Yuying… wait—"
But another presence appeared. Meiyun, smiling serenely, materialized at her other side, looping her arm through Xiangyin's.
"There you are," she said sweetly. "We've been waiting for this day."
Xiangyin stiffened, utterly trapped. She turned her head, panic flashing across her face. Her eyes pleaded silently at Haotian—save me!
Haotian only smiled wryly, lifting a hand in a small wave.
"Good luck," he mouthed.
Xiangyin's face fell into despair, her eyes narrowing as though screaming at him: Traitor!
The Sovereigns nearby chuckled quietly, the tension of the earlier entrance unraveling into amusement. Whispers spread again, softer this time.
"The Emperor Dragons themselves… treating her like kin."
"It seems the Eternal Yin Orchid Sect has risen far higher than we imagined…"
Haotian exhaled slowly, his faint smile never fading. With his wives back home cultivating, and Xiangyin caught in the clutches of her old friends, he now stood alone before the gathering storm of the Summit.
Yuying's grip on Xiangyin's arm tightened as she pulled her closer, sapphire eyes gleaming with wicked amusement.
"So then, Xiangyin… when did it start? When did you begin having feelings for Haotian?"
Xiangyin's face went red to her ears. "I—I…" Her lips trembled. "I don't know…"
Meiyun leaned in from the other side, smiling far too sweetly. "Then when was your first kiss?"
Xiangyin's knees weakened, her voice dropping to a whisper. "…b-before he became Emperor… almost a month ago…"
"Ohhh," Yuying's grin widened like a cat catching a bird. "So you've been hiding this for some time."
Her eyes narrowed playfully. "And tell us—have you surrendered yourself yet?"
Xiangyin's eyes widened in horror. "Y-Yuying!"
Her protest was drowned by Meiyun's sigh, exaggerated and dramatic. "To think—I tried to introduce you to so many men over the centuries. But somehow, no matter what, you ended up with our descendant. Haotian. How poetic."
Xiangyin buried her face in her hands, mortified.
Yuying chuckled and tilted her head, her gaze sharp as a dagger. "Speaking of descendant… shouldn't someone here be calling us that from now on?"
Xiangyin looked up at her old friend in disbelief. "Yuying…" she pleaded softly, her voice trembling.
But Yuying only smiled wider, leaning down so her lips brushed her ear. "No, that's not right. You should be calling us—"
She spelled it slowly, deliberately, one letter at a time.
"A–N–C–E–S–T–O–R."
Xiangyin froze. Her eyes watered, her body trembling as if struck by lightning.
Meiyun nodded solemnly, patting her back as if to console her. "Go on. Say it."
"I… I c-can't…" Xiangyin's voice broke, tears threatening to spill.
The two Emperor Dragons laughed together, bright and merciless. "Cry all you like. From now on, you're family—and that means you call us Ancestors."
Xiangyin cried openly, looking toward Haotian with a mixture of despair and accusation. He only gave her a helpless shrug and a faint smile, as if to say: This is the path you chose.
Before the teasing could continue, a heavy aura descended. The air grew taut, silencing even the laughter.
A deep voice resounded across the summit ground. "Let us begin."
Haotian turned, his rainbow eyes narrowing as the Three Emperors—Xuanming, Qianye, and Yuelian—stepped forward.
Around them, the sect envoys and sovereigns shifted uneasily, whispers dying into silence.
The Five Continent Summit was at last underway.
The Five Continent Summit began in full force.
The Three Emperors stood at the forefront, their auras commanding silence. One after another, sect masters, sovereigns, and envoys rose to speak.
"The Immortals will descend with armies uncountable. We must form alliances."
"No—our sects must fortify their own territories first."
"We should pool resources and create a united defense line!"
"A line? Against Immortals? Foolishness. We'd crumble in days."
Arguments broke out like thunder. Voices clashed, pride and fear sharpening every word. Strategies were offered, but every one of them frayed at the edges—too slow, too divided, too fragile.
Even the Emperors' proposals of forming continent-wide defense formations met with resistance.
The truth weighed heavily on all present: nothing would work.
The hall fell into uneasy silence.
Then Haotian stepped forward. His silver hair gleamed beneath the lantern light, his rainbow eyes calm as the void. He raised his hand—and with a flick of his wrist, dozens of scrolls flew into the air, circling the chamber before floating down to the tables of sect masters and sovereigns.
"I have written new cultivation methods," he said, his voice carrying without force, yet heavy with authority.
Murmurs rippled as the leaders examined the scrolls.
Haotian continued. "These methods are not for the elites alone. They are designed so that anyone—even ordinary mortals—may walk the path toward immortality. They do not require ancient bloodlines or rare physiques. They do not bind you to sect or clan. They are a ladder… from the dirt to the heavens."
Gasps filled the hall.
He spoke on, steady and sure. "I have also compiled specialized paths for those already advanced, tailored to elemental affinities, so no one wastes centuries on inefficient methods. More importantly, each method cultivates both body and spirit together. Without this balance, no one will step into the true Immortal Realms."
The Sovereigns looked at each other, awe flashing in their eyes. The Emperors themselves grew still, gazes sharpening.
Haotian's final words struck like lightning. "If the Immortals come to cull us, then let us greet them not as scattered prey, but as a world overflowing with cultivators climbing the same sky. Let us make every man, woman, and child capable of standing on this path."
The chamber erupted in shocked voices.
"Impossible…""If this is true…""An entire continent… an entire world of Immortals…"
Emperor Xuanming leaned forward slowly, his expression grave but alight with respect.
"Show us, Haotian."
All eyes turned to him, waiting.
The chamber buzzed with disbelief and suspicion. Scrolls fluttered in trembling hands as sect masters and Sovereigns whispered furiously.
"Cultivation for mortals?"
"Ridiculous. A dream."
"Even if true, what danger would such rapid growth cause?"
Emperor Xuanming's deep voice silenced the noise."Haotian. Words are wind. Show us."
All eyes fixed on him.
Haotian nodded calmly, then gestured toward the side of the hall. A trembling boy, no older than fifteen, was ushered forward by a guard. His eyes were wide with terror at being in the presence of Emperors, Sovereigns, and legends.
"He is a servant of this hall," Haotian said plainly. "Born without bloodline, without training, without chi foundation. A normal mortal."
The murmur of doubt grew louder.
Haotian lifted his hand, and a golden script of Dao light bloomed in the air. With a flick, he imprinted the sutra into the boy's forehead.
"Sit. Breathe. Do as it guides you."
The boy fell to his knees, shaking, but followed the guidance instinctively.
Moments passed. Then the air stirred.
A faint ripple of chi gathered around him. His eyes widened as warmth coursed through his veins. His pulse steadied, his breath deepened, his flesh began to glow faintly.
Gasps erupted.
"He… he has a foundation already!"
"Impossible. That should take months, even with guidance!"
The boy's aura swelled. Minutes turned to an hour, then two.
With each breath, his cultivation leapt. His body shuddered as meridians opened in rapid succession, one after another. His dantian blazed to life.
By the third hour, he burst into Core Condensation Realm, chi spiraling around him like a newborn sun.
The crowd rose to their feet, shock writ plain on their faces.
"In hours…""A mortal…""He touched Core Condensation…"
Haotian's voice cut through their disbelief."At this speed, if uninterrupted, he would reach Dao Comprehension in two days."
Silence fell like a hammer.
Even the Emperors stiffened, their eyes flashing with calculation and dread.
Xuanming's hand tightened on his armrest. Yuelian's lips pressed thin. Qianye's brows furrowed deeply.
What Haotian had shown was not a technique. It was a revolution.
A single boy—proof that with his method, the five continents could birth armies of cultivators in weeks.
Haotian let the silence stretch, then spoke again, his eyes like rainbow flames. "This is not a dream. This is the path. And I will place it in the hands of the world."
The Summit chamber shook with uproar.
Chaos tore through the Summit hall.
Sect masters and Sovereigns rose from their seats, voices clashing like thunder.
"This cannot be allowed! To give such methods to mortals—""You'll shatter the balance of power!""If every peasant can cultivate, what becomes of our sect legacies?""It will lead to rebellion! Disorder!"
Some argued in fear, others in envy. A few shouted in desperation, unwilling to accept the collapse of their hierarchies.
Even Emperors sat with narrowed eyes, their silence heavy, calculating.
Then Haotian moved.
He stood without a word, and a wave of power rippled outward. His aura rose like a flood, pressing down on the chamber. The Three Emperors themselves stiffened as his presence eclipsed theirs, the weight of his rainbow Dao eyes swallowing every protest.
The hall fell silent.
Haotian's voice was calm, but it thundered in every heart.
"Whether you distribute these methods or not, I will. Every mortal will have the chance to cultivate, as long as they are willing. No bloodline, no sect name, no divine heritage required. Only will."
Faces turned pale.
He went on. "Beyond the Veil, even newborn babes are born with immortal bodies, their path to immortality already set. If we do not grant our people the same chance, then we send them to the slaughter when the Immortals descend. I will not allow that."
Haotian raised a hand, and the scrolls in the chamber lit faintly in resonance.
"These are my creations, not yours. What I do with them does not require your permission. I will establish branches of the Eternal Yin Orchid Sect in each of the five continents, and there, these cultivation methods will be given freely. The world will rise together—or perish together."
Gasps, disbelief, awe.
Some sect masters trembled. Some Sovereigns clenched their fists. But none dared to speak. None dared to move.
At the side of the hall, Xiangyin turned her head, cheeks still faintly flushed. She looked at Yuying and Meiyun, her lips curling into a soft smile.
"Tell me," she whispered, her voice trembling with conviction, "how could I not fall for him? Look out there. Look at their faces."
Indeed, throughout the chamber, disciples and envoys stared not with fear—but with dawning admiration. Young maidens especially looked upon Haotian with flushed cheeks, eyes wide with awe and longing.
Even Emperors felt their breath hitch.
Yuying chuckled knowingly. Meiyun's lips quirked upward.
Haotian had not only silenced the Summit. He had captured it.