The night had fallen over the Qin family’s forbidden zone like a blanket of black velvet sewn with the diamonds of ten thousand stars.
The Lake of Vitality still glowed faintly in the darkness, its emerald waters humming with the residual energy of the day’s miracles.
Most of the elders had returned to their meditation chambers and ancestral halls, though ten of them—the ones Qin Rou had personally commanded—now ringed the nursery pavilion in silent, vigilant rotation.
Inside the pavilion, Tian lay in a cradle carved from immortal-grade spirit wood, its grain swirling with patterns that promoted peaceful sleep and accelerated infant cultivation.
The cradle was positioned at the exact center of five beds, each one occupied by a woman who had refused—absolutely refused—to be separated from her son for even a single night.
Qin Mei lay to his left, her snow-white hair spread across her pillow like a frozen waterfall.
Long Yue sprawled to his right, one golden-nailed hand draped protectively over the edge of the cradle.
Zhou Meng was curled at the foot, her ruby hair pooling around her like spilled wine.
Ling Xue and Su Meiyao had claimed the positions nearest the door, as if daring anyone to enter unannounced.
They were all asleep.
Or close to it.
The exhaustion of childbirth, the emotional tidal wave of the visions, and the sheer relief of holding their healthy, perfect, impossible son had finally caught up with them.
Tian, however, was very much awake.
His infant body was tired—his tiny limbs heavy, his eyelids threatening to droop—but his mind was a storm of caffeine-sharp clarity.
The system’s words echoed in his skull like a bell that refused to stop ringing.
I have a Villain System.
I have two Dao Bodies that weren’t part of the visions.
I have a one-use fusion stone.
And somewhere out there, a Red Luck Son of Fortune already wants me dead.
Sleep can wait.
“System,” he thought, keeping his mental voice low as if someone might overhear, “tell me more about these two Dao Bodies.
The ones that didn’t show up in the visions.” The beautiful, mature voice responded instantly, its husky warmth wrapping around his thoughts like silk.
[Ara~ The Host is curious about his hidden assets?
How diligent.] A pause, as if the system was settling into a comfortable position—perhaps crossing long, elegant legs, perhaps leaning forward with a knowing smile.
Tian could almost see her in his mind’s eye: a voluptuous older sister figure with hair the color of midnight and eyes that had watched the birth and death of stars.
[The Yin and Yang Dao Body is ranked as the number one dual cultivation physique in all the Primordial Realm.
It allows the Host and any partner he cultivates with to receive a mutual boost in cultivation speed, comprehension, and energy refinement.
It also grants the Host absolute mastery over Yin and Yang energies—the primordial duality from which all existence springs.
Yin can freeze, conceal, and nurture.
Yang can burn, reveal, and destroy.
Together, they are the brush and ink that paint reality itself.] Tian processed this.
Dual cultivation.
The thing every webnovel protagonist stumbled into with their first jade beauty.
But this wasn’t just any dual cultivation physique—it was the number one dual cultivation physique.
[The Maiden Calamity Body, on the other hand, is a luck-type physique.
It ensures that the Host experiences…
fortuitous encounters with women.
Beautiful women.
Powerful women.
Women who, through sheer cosmic coincidence, find themselves in situations that bring them into close—often intimate—contact with the Host.] Tian’s infant mind conjured images: swimming in a lake and accidentally stumbling upon bathing beauties.
Walking through a forest and having a mature cultivator trip directly into his arms.
Reaching for a book and brushing hands with a hidden princess.
[The name ‘Calamity’ is somewhat misleading.
It is not a calamity for the Host.
It is a calamity for the women—their carefully maintained distance, their icy facades, their vows of solitude—all of it collapses in the face of the Host’s passive fortune.
The universe itself conspires to place beautiful women in the Host’s path, and in situations that encourage…
closeness.] A soft, melodic laugh.
[Essentially, Host, you are a walking, breathing romantic deus ex machina.
Women will quite literally fall into your arms.] Tian was silent for a long moment.
So I have the best dual cultivation body in existence…
and a body that makes women trip into my lap.
And I was reincarnated into a world where I’m the only male in five all-female forbidden clans.
This isn’t a cheat code.
This is the entire game console.
He thought about the Stone of Fusion and Upgrade burning a hole in his metaphorical inventory.
A single-use item that could fuse two compatible objects and upgrade the result to a higher rank.
“System,” he thought, a plan crystallizing in his mind, “are the Yin and Yang Dao Body and the Maiden Calamity Body compatible for fusion?” The system’s response came without hesitation.
[Analyzing compatibility…] [Compatibility: 97%.
Both physiques relate to interpersonal dynamics and fortune.
Yin-Yang governs the balance and exchange of energies between beings.
Maiden Calamity governs the fortune that brings beings into the Host’s orbit.
Together, they represent the complete cycle of meeting and merging.] [Fusion would enhance both effects without losing any functions.
The resulting physique would be elevated to Immortal Rank.] Tian’s heart—tiny as it was—hammered against his ribs.
“Use the Stone of Fusion and Upgrade.
Fuse the two Dao Bodies.” [Command accepted.
Initiating fusion protocol.] — The world went white.
Not the white of the nursery pavilion, not the white of his mothers’ hair, but a vast, featureless void that stretched in every direction without end.
Tian floated in it, no longer an infant but a formless consciousness suspended between existence and possibility.
Before him, two orbs of light materialized.
The first was a sphere of intertwined black and white—Yin and Yang swirling around each other in an eternal, graceful dance.
It radiated warmth and cold simultaneously, attraction and repulsion, the endless pulse of duality that had birthed the cosmos.
Wisps of energy curled from its surface like lovers’ fingers intertwining.
The second was a pulsing heart of rose-gold light, shot through with veins of crimson that beat like a living thing.
It sang with the laughter of women, the rustle of silk, the soft gasp of surprise.
It smelled faintly of jasmine and rain and the electric charge before a lightning strike.
The Stone of Fusion materialized between them—a rough, unassuming rock that seemed utterly out of place among such cosmic beauty.
Then its surface cracked, and light poured out.
Not ordinary light.
Light that was older than light.
Light that had existed before the concept of illumination had been defined.
The two orbs trembled.
Then they moved.
They spiraled toward each other slowly at first, then faster, drawn by the stone’s irresistible gravity.
The Yin-Yang sphere and the Maiden Calamity heart circled each other like binary stars, their edges blurring, their colors bleeding together.
Black-and-white threads wove through rose-gold light.
Crimson veins pulsed with new, deeper rhythm.
The stone shattered.
The sound was not a sound—it was a truth, a single note of cosmic music that resonated through Tian’s very soul.
The fragments dissolved into motes of pure creation and swirled into the merging orbs.
And then, with a flash that would have blinded gods, the two became one.
A new orb hung before him.
It was larger than the others had been, and its surface was a hypnotic swirl of colors that no mortal tongue could name—black and white and rose and gold and crimson, all flowing together like ink dropped into water, never quite mixing, always dancing.
It radiated an aura that was simultaneously serene and devastating, like the smile of a woman who knew she could destroy you and had chosen—for now—to let you live.
The orb pulsed once.
Then it shot forward and slammed into Tian’s chest.
— [DING!] [Fusion Complete.] [New Physique Acquired: Immortal Yin-Yang Maiden Calamity Body (Immortal Rank)] Tian’s consciousness snapped back into his infant body with a gasp that was utterly silent.
His tiny chest tingled where the orb had struck him, and he could feel something—something vast and warm and terrifyingly powerful—settling into his bones, his blood, his very marrow.
“System,” he thought, his mental voice breathless, “explain.
What did I just get?” The system’s voice was rich with satisfaction, like a mentor watching her student take their first true step.
[The Immortal Yin-Yang Maiden Calamity Body is a unique Immortal Physique that exists nowhere else in creation.
It is yours alone, Host.
Its effects are as follows:] [First: The Yin-Yang Union.
When the Host engages in dual cultivation with a partner, both receive a cultivation boost multiplied by the depth of their emotional connection.
The stronger the bond—love, trust, devotion—the greater the amplification.
This extends beyond traditional dual cultivation to any shared cultivation practice, including meditation, technique refinement, and Dao comprehension.] [Second: Absolute Yin-Yang Mastery.
The Host can command Yin and Yang energies as easily as breathing.
This includes but is not limited to: Yin concealment that hides from divine sense, Yang purging that annihilates curses and poisons, and the ability to harmonize opposing forces in any context—alchemy, formation arts, combat.] [Third: Maiden’s Fortune.
The Host’s luck with women is amplified beyond the original Maiden Calamity Body’s parameters.
Fortuitous encounters occur with greater frequency and intensity.
Women who would normally be hostile, indifferent, or unattainable find their paths crossing with the Host in ways that encourage intimacy.
This is not mind control—it is fate weaving itself around the Host’s existence.] [Fourth: Maiden’s Calamity.
The original effect is preserved and enhanced.
Women quite literally fall into the Host’s embrace.
The universe arranges circumstances—a stumble, a sudden gust of wind, a spatial tear that deposits a fleeing princess directly into the Host’s bath—that bring beautiful women into close physical contact with the Host.
The effect scales with the woman’s cultivation and luck value.] [Fifth: The Bonded Blossom Resonance.
When a woman’s affection for the Host reaches a certain threshold, her cultivation talent permanently increases by one minor realm.
Her lifespan extends.
Her beauty is preserved.
She becomes, in essence, a ‘recorded maiden’ even without the Picture Scroll—though the Scroll amplifies these effects further.] Tian floated in his own mind, speechless.
So…
I have a body that makes me the ultimate dual cultivation partner, gives me control over the fundamental forces of reality, makes women literally trip into my arms, AND rewards them for falling in love with me by making them stronger and more beautiful?
This isn’t a physique.
This is a harem protagonist’s nuclear option.
[The Host understands.] The system’s voice was definitely smirking now.
[This physique ensures that every woman who joins the Host’s side benefits immensely from doing so.
It is not manipulation, Host.
It is symbiosis.
You grow.
They grow.
Together, you reach heights that neither could achieve alone.] [Is that not the essence of a true villain?
To offer the world something it cannot refuse?] Tian lay in his cradle, staring up at the ceiling of the pavilion, his infant mind churning with possibilities.
She’s right.
The worst villains aren’t the ones who destroy everything.
They’re the ones who make you want to join them.
Who offer you exactly what you desire most—and mean it.
He checked his status window.
— STATUS WINDOW Name: Qin Tian / Long Tian / Zhou Tian / Ling Tian / Su Tian Age: Newborn (1 day) Cultivation Realm: None (Unawakened) Cultivation Technique(s): · Dao Body of Joy and Evil (Immortal Rank) [Not yet cultivated] Physique(s): · Eyes of Time and Reincarnation (Immortal Rank) [Unawakened] · Immortal Body of the Primordial Dragon (Immortal Rank) [Unawakened] · Immortal Body of the Hundred Demons (Immortal Rank) [Unawakened] · Immortal God Bones (Immortal Rank) [Unawakened] · Immortal Luck Dao Body (Immortal Rank) [Unawakened] · Immortal Yin-Yang Maiden Calamity Body (Immortal Rank) [awakened] Luck Value: Red (Top-Grade Son of Fortune equivalent) Weapons: None Other Items: · Picture Scroll of Thousands Maidens (Innate Heavenly Dao Treasure) · Dao Body of Joy and Evil Manual (Immortal Rank) System Points: 0 Current Missions: None — Six Immortal Physiques.
One unique to him alone.
And two Dao Bodies fused into something greater than the sum of their parts.
The Stone of Fusion and Upgrade was gone from his inventory, consumed in the process.
But what he had gained in its place was worth more than any single-use item.
I have six Immortal Physiques now.
Six.
Every single one of them would be the foundation of a forbidden clan.
And I have all of them.
The demon king who’s destined to be my enemy…
he has no idea what’s coming.
— The universe, as if responding to his thoughts, decided to demonstrate his new physique’s power.
It began with a soft rustle of silk.
Ling Xue, the blue-haired goddess who had been sleeping near the door, stirred in her bed.
Her divine dreams—usually filled with celestial harmonies and the light of ancient stars—had taken an odd turn.
She dreamed of warmth.
Of a presence that pulled at her like a gentle tide.
Of a child’s laughter that made her immortal heart flutter.
She rose, still half-asleep, her bare feet making no sound on the jade floor.
Her nightgown, woven from clouds and starlight, clung to her generous curves as she moved.
Her blue hair cascaded down her back in waves that shimmered even in darkness.
She was walking toward the cradle before she fully realized she had left her bed.
“Little Tian’er,” she murmured, her divine voice husky with sleep.
“Mama Ling had a dream about you…” She bent over the cradle, her full breasts pressing against the edge, and reached down to stroke his cheek.
That was when the universe struck.
A cushion—a small, innocent cushion that had been resting on a nearby divan—somehow found itself under Ling Xue’s foot.
It had not been there a moment ago.
It had no business being there now.
But there it was, and her bare sole came down on it at precisely the wrong angle.
Ling Xue, the head of the Goddess Race, a Great Emperor whose divine sense could track a single snowflake falling a thousand miles away, tripped.
She let out a startled gasp—undignified, utterly un-goddess-like—and pitched forward.
Her arms flailed.
Her divine aura flickered in panic.
And she fell directly into the cradle.
Directly onto Tian.
The impact was soft—the cradle was spacious, and Ling Xue’s body was all generous curves and yielding warmth.
Tian found himself pressed against the pillowy softness of her chest, his tiny face buried in the valley between her breasts.
Her hair cascaded around them both like a curtain of liquid sapphire.
Her scent—starlight and sacred incense—filled his senses.
“Oh!
Oh no!
Little Tian’er!” Ling Xue’s face flushed a deep, mortified crimson.
She scrambled to push herself up, but her hands slipped on the silk lining of the cradle, and she collapsed again with another soft oof.
The commotion woke the other mothers.
Long Yue’s golden eyes snapped open first.
She took one look at the scene—Ling Xue sprawled in the cradle, her breasts smothering their son, her face the color of a ripe tomato—and burst out laughing.
“Sister Ling!
What in the nine heavens are you doing?!” “I—I tripped!
There was a cushion!
I don’t know how—” “A cushion?” Zhou Meng’s ruby eyes sparkled with mischief as she propped herself up on her elbows.
“The dignified head of the Goddess Race, tripped over a cushion?
In the middle of the night?” “It was there!
I swear it was—” Qin Mei, ever composed, simply smiled and rose from her bed.
She glided to the cradle and gently extracted Tian from Ling Xue’s mortified embrace.
“Are you hurt, Sister Ling?” “No, I’m not hurt, but—” “Then there’s no harm done.” Qin Mei’s ancient eyes flickered with something that might have been amusement.
“Though I must say, you’ve never been the clumsy type before.
Perhaps our little Tian’er has a strange effect on you.” Ling Xue finally managed to right herself, her divine composure in complete tatters.
Her face was still crimson, and she couldn’t quite meet anyone’s eyes.
“I…
I’ll go…
I need to…
meditate.” She practically fled to her bed, pulling the covers over her head.
Long Yue was still laughing.
Zhou Meng was smirking.
Su Meiyao had woken up at some point and was watching with her black-hole eyes glittering with quiet mirth.
Tian, for his part, had exactly one thought: …It works.
It actually works.
The Maiden Calamity effect is REAL, and it just made a goddess faceplant into my cradle.
This is the greatest day of my life.
…Well, technically my second day of life.
But still.
— The system’s voice purred in his mind, rich with amusement.
[Ara~ The Host’s new physique is already bearing fruit.
Ling Xue’s affection has increased marginally.
Her embarrassment will fade, but the memory of this moment—the warmth, the closeness—will linger.
She will find herself drawn to check on you more often.
To hold you more often.
To wonder why her heart beats faster when she does.] [This is the way of the Maiden Calamity, Host.
Small accidents.
Tiny moments.
Each one a thread in a web that will, in time, bind the most powerful women in the realm to your side.] Tian absorbed this.
It was terrifying.
It was manipulative.
It was exactly what a villain would do.
I’m not doing it on purpose, he thought.
It’s a passive effect.
I can’t control it.
[The Host rationalizes well.] Shut up.
The system laughed—a warm, honeyed sound that made his tiny spine tingle.
[Rest now, little villain.
Tomorrow, you will be one day older.
The world will continue to turn.
Your mothers will continue to dote on you.
And somewhere out there, your destined enemies are growing, too.] [But they do not have what you have.
They do not have six Immortal Physiques.
They do not have a system.
And they do not have…
me.] [Sweet dreams, Host.] Tian closed his eyes.
Around him, his mothers had settled back into their beds, though Ling Xue was still hiding under her covers and Long Yue was still giggling occasionally.
The ten elders outside maintained their silent vigil.
The Lake of Vitality hummed its eternal, gentle song.
He was safe.
He was loved.
He was powerful beyond measure.
And one day—one day soon—he would show this world exactly what happened when a villain stopped playing by the rules.
Goodnight, System.
[Goodnight, Tian.] — END OF CHAPTER 4