The negotiations had barely begun when the air grew heavy with a presence that made even Great Emperors straighten their posture.
Qin Qingyue, the White-Haired Matriarch, First Elder of the Qin Family Council, stepped through a ripple in space and materialized beside the cradle with the silent finality of a descending star.
Her silver eyes swept across the gathering—the five mothers, the two visiting forbidden force leaders, their daughters—and came to rest on Mo Qingwu.
Specifically, on Mo Qingwu’s dress.
Or rather, the absence of one.
“Mo Qingwu,” Qin Qingyue said, her voice perfectly level, perfectly polite, and carrying the absolute authority of a woman who had been managing crises for longer than most civilizations had existed.
“You are in the presence of an infant.
A male infant.
The first male infant in the history of the five clans.
Please dress properly.” Mo Qingwu’s purple eyes widened with genuine surprise.
She looked down at her sheer black confection—the plunging neckline, the backless design, the slit that exposed her leg to the upper thigh, the gossamer fabric that clung to every curve like a lover’s hands—and then back up at the White-Haired Matriarch.
A slow, lazy smile spread across her face.
“Oh my,” she purred.
“I hadn’t realized the little prince could even see me properly.
He’s only three days old.” “His eyes,” Qin Mei interjected smoothly, “are the Eyes of Time and Reincarnation.
We have no idea what he can or cannot perceive.
But we would prefer not to take chances.” Tian, from his cradle, thought very loudly: I CAN SEE EVERYTHING.
PLEASE DON’T MAKE HER CHANGE.
“She may have a point,” Ling Xue added, her divine cheeks flushing pink.
“The child is…
unusually attentive.” “Unusually,” Zhou Meng agreed, her ruby eyes flickering with amusement.
Mo Qingwu sighed dramatically, the sound rich and theatrical.
“Very well.
If the matriarch insists.” She snapped her fingers.
The sheer dress dissolved into shadow and reformed instantly—still black, still elegant, still hugging her magnificent curves, but now a proper gown with a high collar, long sleeves, and a hem that swept the floor.
The fabric was thick and opaque, revealing nothing but the shape beneath.
Her thunder mark still glowed on her forehead.
Her purple hair still cascaded in waves.
She was still devastatingly beautiful.
She was just…
clothed.
Tian’s infant face remained perfectly serene, but internally, he let out a sigh of profound disappointment.
Well.
There goes the best view in the Primordial Realm.
Still, she looks amazing in proper clothes too.
I’ll just…
store the earlier image in my memory.
[The Host’s mental image has been archived for future reference.] System!
That’s—I didn’t—you can’t just— [Ara~ The Host protests, but his vitals indicate a spike in happiness.
This system is merely…
assisting.] I’m three days old.
I shouldn’t have to deal with a teasing system.
[The Host loves it.] …Shut up.
Qin Qingyue nodded with satisfaction and turned to face the two visiting leaders.
“Now.
Explain to me, in detail, why the Holy Lord of Yaochi and the Mistress of the Shadow Pavilion have arrived unannounced at the cradle of our young heir.” Lin Qingwan stepped forward, her warm brown eyes meeting Qin Qingyue’s silver gaze without flinching.
“We have come to propose an engagement.” Mo Qingwu nodded, her lazy smile returning.
“Each of us wishes for our daughter to be betrothed to the little prince.” Silence.
Then Qin Qingyue did something that none of the younger women had ever seen her do.
She laughed.
It was not a mocking laugh.
It was the laugh of a grandmother who had just been told something both absurd and delightful.
Her silver eyes crinkled at the corners.
Her mature figure shook slightly with mirth.
“You traveled hundreds of billions of miles,” she said, “to propose marriage to a three-day-old infant.” “Yes,” Lin Qingwan and Mo Qingwu said in perfect unison.
“He cannot speak,” Qin Qingyue pointed out.
“Yet,” Mo Qingwu corrected.
“He cannot walk.” “Yet,” Lin Qingwan added.
“He is currently trying to fit his entire fist into his mouth.” All eyes turned to the cradle, where Tian was, indeed, attempting to stuff his chubby fist into his mouth with limited success.
“He’s adorable,” Lin Yueyao said.
Everyone froze.
The words had slipped out before the cold young woman could stop them.
Her silver eyes widened with horror at her own voice.
A flush—pale pink, barely visible—crept up her elegant neck and touched her cheeks.
“I…
I meant…” She stammered, her icy composure cracking further.
“He is…
acceptable.
As a…
as a potential…
That is to say…” Mo Yurou, standing beside her, let out a soft sound that might have been a laugh.
Her purple eyes crinkled above her veil.
“The ice princess has melted,” she murmured, her voice slightly muffled by the black silk.
“How interesting.” “I have NOT melted,” Lin Yueyao said, her voice sharp but her blush deepening.
“I simply made an observation.
He is objectively adorable.
That is a fact, not an emotion.” “A fact,” Mo Yurou repeated, her tone absolutely deadpan.
“A fact.” “And the blush?” “I am not blushing.” “You are definitely blushing.” “The temperature in this realm is warmer than I am accustomed to.” “It’s perfectly cool.” “Your veil is obstructing your thermal perception.” Tian watched this exchange with growing fascination.
The ice queen and the shadow princess.
Bickering.
Over him.
Already.
This is…
actually kind of entertaining.
[The Maiden Calamity Body’s passive effect is working as intended.
Both Daughters of Destiny are already feeling possessive.
The competition will only intensify their interest.] Is that a good thing?
[Host, it is an excellent thing.
Competition breeds investment.
The more they fight over you, the more they will want to win you.
And the more they want to win you, the more they will be willing to do to secure your affection.] That sounds…
manipulative.
[The Host is a villain.
Manipulation is a core competency.] I’m a three-day-old villain.
My manipulation skills currently consist of looking cute and reaching for breasts.
[And yet, look at the results.
Two Great Emperor-level forces are currently negotiating your future marriage.
Your sisters are about to arrive.
Your mothers are beaming with pride.
You are, without question, the most successful infant in the history of the Primordial Realm.] Tian couldn’t argue with that.
Qin Qingyue had composed herself and was now studying the two young women with the assessing eye of a matriarch who had arranged more marriages than most people had hot meals.
“Lin Yueyao,” she said, “step forward.” The ice queen obeyed, her movements graceful despite her lingering blush.
She stood before the cradle, her silver eyes meeting Qin Qingyue’s gaze with quiet dignity.
“Ice Moon Dao Body,” Qin Qingyue murmured.
“Dao Rank.
Excellent foundation.
Your mother has trained you well.” She tilted her head.
“Do you understand what this engagement would mean?” Lin Yueyao’s voice was steady when she answered.
“I would be bound to the young prince.
I would support his cultivation.
I would…” A tiny pause.
“…be his.” “And you accept this?” Lin Yueyao’s silver eyes drifted to the cradle.
Tian, seizing the moment, stopped trying to eat his fist and instead reached up toward her with both tiny hands, his fingers opening and closing in the universal infant gesture of pick me up please.
Her expression cracked.
“He’s…” She swallowed.
“He’s very small.” “He will grow,” Qin Qingyue said dryly.
“I…
yes.
I accept.” Mo Yurou stepped forward before she was called, her black dress hugging her curves as she moved.
Her purple eyes met Qin Qingyue’s without hesitation.
“Thunder Mark of Annihilation,” the matriarch noted.
“Dao Rank.
And the Shadow Pavilion’s signature technique, I presume?” “Yes, Elder,” Mo Yurou said, her voice respectful but not submissive.
“I am my mother’s heir in full.” “And you accept the engagement?” Mo Yurou looked at Tian.
Tian, having successfully charmed the ice queen, turned his attention to the shadow princess and gave her the same reaching-hands treatment.
Her purple eyes softened above her veil.
“Yes,” she said.
“I accept.” “Then it is settled,” Qin Qingyue declared.
“The engagements are approved.” Tian’s five mothers exchanged glances and nodded with varying expressions of satisfaction.
Zhou Meng looked particularly smug—her son had already acquired two fiancées from rival forbidden forces, and he wasn’t even a week old.
Long Yue was beaming.
Su Meiyao was already calculating the political advantages.
Ling Xue was blushing for reasons she couldn’t quite explain.
Qin Mei simply looked proud.
Tian, meanwhile, was processing.
I have two fiancées. This chapter is updated first at g.com.
Officially.
They’re both beautiful.
They’re both powerful.
They’re both currently looking at me like I’m the most precious thing in the world.
This is insane.
I love it.
— The moment of triumph was interrupted by the arrival of five more vessels.
They descended through the Qin family’s outer formations in perfect formation—five ships, each one distinct, each one radiating the unique aura of its respective clan.
The first was a palace of frozen moonlight, its hull carved from eternal ice that never melted.
The second was a golden fortress, scales layered over its surface like dragon armor.
The third was a crimson vessel wreathed in demonic flames that burned cold.
The fourth was a cathedral of divine light, its sails woven from starlight.
The fifth was a merchant galleon of black and silver, its banners bearing the sigil of the Heavenly Moon Pavilion.
The five allied clans had arrived.
Elders descended from the ships in waves—hundreds of beautiful, mature women whose combined auras made the very air tremble.
They greeted the Qin elders with the warmth of old allies.
They greeted the five mothers with the affection of family.
They glanced at the two visiting forbidden force leaders with polite curiosity.
And then Qin Mei scooped Tian from his cradle and held him high.
“Look, little Tian’er,” she said, her cold aristocratic features melting into a smile of pure maternal joy.
“Your six sisters have arrived.” Six sisters?
Tian’s infant head swiveled.
He had known, abstractly, that his mothers had other children.
The five forbidden forces were all-female clans—of course there would be daughters, granddaughters, aunts, cousins.
But he had somehow never considered that those daughters would be…
his sisters.
And now, six young women were walking toward him.
— The first to approach was from the Qin family.
Qin Yuxuan was the eldest of the six, a young woman of eighteen years with hair as white as fresh snow—the same impossible white as her mother Qin Mei.
It fell to her waist in straight, elegant sheets, caught at the temples by a clip of jade that had been carved before the first mortal dynasty rose.
Her eyes were the same terrifying, beautiful eyes as her mother—the Eyes of Time though hers were not yet fully awakened, still holding the faint silver shimmer of potential rather than the absolute temporal authority of an Immortal Physique.
Her face was a study in aristocratic perfection—high cheekbones, a straight nose, lips the color of pale cherry blossoms.
Her body was that of a young woman still blooming into her full maturity: slender but promising curves, a narrow waist, the beginnings of the voluptuous figure that her mother possessed in full.
She wore robes of white and silver, the Qin family’s colors, and she moved with the measured grace of someone who had been trained in etiquette since before she could walk.
Her expression, however, was not cold like Qin Mei’s usual demeanor.
It was warm.
Eager.
The expression of an older sister who had been waiting to meet her baby brother for nine long months.
“So this is him,” she breathed, her voice soft and melodic.
“Hello, little brother.
I’m your eldest sister, Yuxuan.” Tian reached for her immediately.
She laughed—a sound like wind chimes—and took him from Qin Mei’s arms with careful, reverent hands.
“He’s so light,” she marveled.
“And so warm.
And those eyes…” She gazed into his face, and her own silver eyes grew misty.
“He has the family eyes.
I can feel them.” — The second sister stepped forward before Yuxuan could monopolize the baby.
Long Xia was sixteen years old, and she was unmistakably Long Yue’s daughter.
Her hair was a cascade of liquid gold—not the pale blonde of mortal races, but true, metallic gold that caught the light and threw it back in a thousand sparks.
Two dragon horns, smaller and more delicate than her mother’s but just as majestic, curved upward from her temples.
Her eyes were molten amber, slit-pupiled and fierce.
Her body was already taking on the warrior’s shape—strong shoulders, muscled arms, a chest that promised to rival her mother’s generous proportions.
She wore tight-fitting golden robes that allowed for freedom of movement, and a practice sword was strapped across her back.
Her skin was sun-kissed, and her grin was wide and infectious.
“Move over, Yuxuan,” she said, her voice carrying the rich, commanding timbre of dragon-kind.
“Let me see the little prince.” She plucked Tian from Yuxuan’s arms before the white-haired sister could protest, and held him up to the light like a precious gem.
“HA!
Look at him!
He has my mother’s chin!
And my eyes!
Well, maybe not my eyes.
But definitely the chin!” “Long Xia,” Yuxuan said with strained patience, “you’re holding him like a sack of rice.” “I am holding him like a future dragon emperor!” “He’s three days old.” “Never too early to start training!” “Put him down gently or I will freeze your feet to the ground.” Long Xia laughed but complied, cradling Tian with surprising gentleness given her rough enthusiasm.
She grinned down at him, her amber eyes sparkling.
“Little brother, when you’re older, I’m going to teach you how to fight.
Real fighting.
Not the fancy stuff Yuxuan does.” “Fancy stuff—” Yuxuan sputtered.
“All that ‘grace’ and ‘precision.’ Boring!
A real warrior fights with their fists and their fire!” “I don’t use fire.” “Exactly my point!” — The third sister rescued Tian from the brewing argument.
Zhou Lingxi was fifteen, the daughter of Zhou Meng, and she was a vision of demonic beauty.
Her hair was the same deep ruby red as her mother’s, cascading in waves to the small of her back.
Her eyes were crimson, though softer than her mother’s fierce ruby—more like rose petals than blood.
Two small obsidian horns, delicate and elegantly curved, rose from her temples.
Her skin was pale as moonlight, and when she smiled, a hint of fang showed.
Her body was already remarkably mature for her age—the demon bloodlines developed quickly.
Full breasts strained against her crimson robes.
Her waist was narrow, her hips curved, and she moved with a natural sensuality that she was probably not even aware of.
“Both of you stop fighting,” she said, her voice a melodic purr.
“You’re scaring him.” She lifted Tian from Long Xia’s arms with expert care, and the moment she looked down at him, her crimson eyes widened with pure, unfiltered adoration.
“Oh,” she breathed.
“Oh, he’s perfect.
Mother, he’s perfect.” Zhou Meng, watching from the side, smiled with pride.
“Isn’t he?” “He has the Hundred Demons Body,” Lingxi whispered, her voice reverent.
“I can feel it.
He’s like me.
Like us.” She pressed a gentle kiss to Tian’s forehead.
“Little brother, the demon clans are going to love you.” Tian, for his part, was doing his best to look adorable.
It wasn’t difficult.
Being adorable came naturally when one was a three-day-old infant with the combined bloodlines of five immortal-grade physiques.
Three sisters down, he thought.
Three to go.
They said six.
Wait—didn’t the system say— [DING!
Six Daughters of Destiny detected in the Host’s vicinity!] …Of course.
— The fourth and fifth sisters arrived together, and Tian immediately understood why there were six.
Twins.
Ling Yue and Ling Xing were fourteen years old, the twin daughters of Ling Xue, and they were identical in the way that two stars might be identical—each brilliant, each breathtaking, but each with her own distinct light.
Both had their mother’s deep blue hair, the color of the ocean under a full moon.
It was shot through with motes of divine light that glittered like captured constellations.
Both had their mother’s charming blue eyes, pure and sacred.
Both had the hourglass figures of their mother’s race—already developing, already promising the full, generous curves that would one day rival Ling Xue’s mature beauty.
But Ling Yue, the elder twin by exactly three minutes, wore her hair in an elegant updo pinned with a crescent moon ornament.
Her expression was serene, her movements graceful, her voice soft as a hymn.
She was the divine daughter in training, the future head of the Goddess Race, and she carried herself with the quiet dignity of someone who understood exactly how heavy her inheritance would be.
Ling Xing, the younger twin, wore her hair loose and wild, falling in waves to her hips.
Her expression was bright and curious, her movements energetic, her smile quick and mischievous.
She was the divine daughter who had, according to family legend, kicked her way out of the womb three minutes after her sister and had been causing delightful chaos ever since.
“Oooh!” Ling Xing darted forward before anyone could stop her, her blue eyes sparkling.
“Let me see!
Let me see!” “Xing,” Ling Yue said, her voice carrying gentle reproach, “manners.” “I have manners!
I have excellent manners!
I just also have excitement!
He’s our baby brother!” Zhou Lingxi, still holding Tian, smiled and carefully transferred him into Ling Xing’s eager arms.
The blue-haired twin cradled him like he was made of spun glass, her bright eyes going wide with wonder.
“He’s so SMALL,” she breathed.
“Yue, look at him!
Look at his tiny fingers!
Look at his tiny nose!
Look at his—” “Xing, you’re going to wake him.” “He’s already awake!
Look at those eyes!
He’s looking at me!
He KNOWS me!” Ling Yue glided closer, her serene expression softening as she gazed down at her baby brother.
“He does seem…
unusually alert for a newborn.” “That’s because he’s a genius,” Ling Xing declared.
“The smartest baby in the whole Primordial Realm.
I can tell.” “You can tell.” “Twin intuition.” “We’re his half-sisters, not his twins.” “Spiritual twin intuition, then.
It’s a thing.
I just invented it.” Ling Yue sighed, but a small smile tugged at her lips.
“You’re impossible.” “I’m delightful.
There’s a difference.” — The sixth and youngest sister hung back slightly, waiting her turn with the patience of someone who had grown up as the baby of the family and was now being displaced—though not unhappily.
Su Lan was twelve years old, the youngest daughter of Su Meiyao, and she was a study in quiet intensity.
Her hair was black—not the void-black of the Qin family, but a deep, rich black that caught hints of silver when the light hit it just right.
Her eyes were the same black-hole eyes as her mother’s, mesmerizing and deep, though they had not yet developed that bottomless quality that made Su Meiyao’s gaze so unnerving.
Her body was still that of a child on the cusp of adolescence—slender, small, with only the faintest suggestions of the curves she would one day inherit from her mother.
She wore robes of black and silver, the merchant colors, and she carried a small abacus on her belt that was probably worth more than most kingdoms.
She stepped forward last, and Ling Xing—reluctantly—passed Tian into her arms.
Su Lan held him with the same careful precision she applied to everything.
Her black-hole eyes studied his face with an intensity that was almost scientific. This story is hosted at g.com.
“Hello, little brother,” she said, her voice quiet and measured.
“I am Su Lan.
I am twelve years old.
I am currently ranked first in mathematics, commerce, and strategic negotiation among all juniors of the Su family.
I have been told you are a genius.” She paused.
“I have decided to believe them.” She pressed a tiny kiss to his forehead, her black-hole eyes softening almost imperceptibly.
“I will teach you economics,” she whispered.
“No brother of mine will be bad with money.” — Tian, surrounded by six sisters who were all looking at him with expressions of absolute adoration, had exactly one thought: I am the luckiest man alive.
[Six Daughters of Destiny detected.
All possess Dao Rank physiques.
All have Luck Values of Purple or higher.
The Host’s future is…
secure.] Dao Rank physiques?
All of them?
[Analyzing:] [Qin Yuxuan — Eyes of Time (Dao Rank, partially awakened).
Luck Value: Gold.] [Long Xia — Golden Dragon Body (Dao Rank).
Luck Value: Gold.] [Zhou Lingxi — Hundred Demons Bloodline (Dao Rank).
Luck Value: Gold.] [Ling Yue — Divine Star Physique (Dao Rank).
Luck Value: Gold.] [Ling Xing — Divine Star Physique (Dao Rank, identical twin resonance detected—shared cultivation speed doubled).
Luck Value: Gold.] [Su Lan — Void Commerce Body (Dao Rank, extremely rare—only three recorded in history).
Luck Value: Purple (climbing).] Void Commerce Body?
[A physique that grants the wielder an intuitive understanding of value, exchange, and probability.
Su Lan is, quite literally, genetically destined to be one of the greatest merchants in the Primordial Realm.
Combined with her intelligence, she will one day surpass even her mother.] Tian processed this.
Six sisters.
Six Daughters of Destiny.
Six Dao Rank physiques.
And all of them were currently arguing over who got to hold him next.
“You’ve had him for three minutes—” “I’ve had him for exactly ninety-seven seconds, I counted—” “Su Lan, put that abacus away—” “I’m calculating optimal holding time distribution—” “I’M THE ELDEST—” “Eldest doesn’t mean you get monopoly rights—” “Actually, legally speaking—” “SU LAN, I SWEAR TO THE HEAVENS—” — The joyful chaos was interrupted by Ling Xing’s sharp intake of breath.
“Wait,” she said, her blue eyes narrowing as she looked at the two young women standing slightly apart from the family cluster.
“Who are they?” Lin Yueyao and Mo Yurou stood side by side.
The ice queen’s silver eyes were cool but watchful.
The shadow princess’s purple eyes crinkled with what might have been amusement above her veil.
Ling Xue coughed delicately.
“Ah.
Those are…
your brother’s fiancées.” Silence.
Absolute, ringing silence.
The six sisters turned as one to stare at their mothers.
Then at the two young women.
Then back at their mothers.
Then at Tian.
“FIANCÉES?” Ling Xing’s voice was not a shriek.
It was close to a shriek, but technically not a shriek.
“He’s THREE DAYS OLD!” “The engagements were just finalized,” Qin Mei said, her voice calm but with a hint of defensive pride.
“Both the Yaochi Holy Land and the Shadow Pavilion recognized our son’s potential.” “Potential!” Long Xia sputtered.
“He’s a BABY!
He can’t even TALK!” “Engagements can be arranged at any age,” Su Meiyao said smoothly.
“It’s actually quite common among the forbidden forces.” “Common!” Zhou Lingxi’s crimson eyes flashed.
“You engaged our baby brother to TWO WOMEN before he could even meet his SISTERS?” “We met them first,” Qin Yuxuan said, her voice cold with the particular ice of an eldest sister whose authority had been undermined.
“Mother.
I should have been consulted.” “You were on a ship.” “I would have turned the ship around.” “The engagement was time-sensitive.” “What was time-sensitive?
His diaper change?” Lin Yueyao cleared her throat.
Every eye turned to her.
“I understand your concern,” she said, her silver eyes meeting Qin Yuxuan’s gaze with quiet dignity.
“I would feel the same if I were in your position.
But I assure you…
my intentions toward your brother are honorable.
I will wait for him.
I will support his growth.
I will protect him with my life if necessary.” Mo Yurou added, her veiled voice carrying a hint of dark amusement, “And I will eliminate anyone who threatens him.
So there is that.” The sisters stared at the two fiancées.
The two fiancées stared back.
Ling Xing leaned toward Ling Yue and whispered—not quietly enough—”The ice queen is kind of cool, actually.” “She’s trying to steal our brother.” “I didn’t say I approved.
I said she’s cool.” “I will freeze her.” “You can’t freeze her.
She has an ice body too.” “Then I will out-freeze her.” “That’s not how elements work.” Qin Yuxuan stepped forward, her white hair shimmering, and positioned herself directly between the fiancées and the cradle.
Her silver eyes—her mother’s eyes, cold and ancient—fixed on Lin Yueyao.
“You may be engaged to our brother,” she said, her voice soft but carrying absolute authority, “but you should understand something.
He has six older sisters.
Six.
We have been waiting for him our entire lives.
We have trained for his arrival.
We have prepared for his protection.
If either of you”—her gaze shifted to include Mo Yurou—”ever does anything to hurt him, you will answer to all six of us.
And I assure you, the combined might of the Qin, Long, Zhou, Ling, and Su families will not be something you survive.” Long Xia cracked her knuckles.
“What she said.
But with more punching.” Zhou Lingxi smiled, and her fangs glinted.
“And more demons.” Ling Yue nodded serenely.
“And divine judgment.” Ling Xing bounced on her heels.
“And annoying you until you go insane!” Su Lan adjusted her abacus.
“And economic ruin.
I am already calculating the cost.” Lin Yueyao and Mo Yurou exchanged glances.
Then, to the sisters’ surprise, both fiancées bowed—deep, respectful bows that acknowledged the warning and accepted its terms.
“We understand,” Lin Yueyao said.
“We would expect nothing less,” Mo Yurou added.
And just like that, the tension broke.
“Oh, fine,” Ling Xing sighed dramatically.
“They’re acceptable.
Barely.” “Xing,” Ling Yue murmured.
“What?
I said barely!
That’s a compliment!
From me!” Long Xia slung an arm over Lin Yueyao’s shoulder with the casual disregard for personal space that only a dragon could manage.
“If you’re going to be part of the family, ice princess, you’re going to need to learn to drink.
Can you handle dragon wine?” “I…
have never tried alcohol.” “PERFECT!
Tonight’s going to be fun!” “Long Xia,” Qin Yuxuan said, “please do not corrupt our brother’s fiancée.” “I’m not corrupting!
I’m…
socializing!” Mo Yurou, watching the chaos unfold, turned to Zhou Lingxi.
“Is it always like this?” The demon princess smiled.
“You have no idea.” “Will I survive?” “Probably.
The question is whether you’ll want to.” Mo Yurou’s purple eyes crinkled above her veil in what was definitely a smile now.
“I think I will fit in here.” Tian, cradled now in Qin Yuxuan’s protective arms, watched his six sisters and two fiancées begin the delicate dance of becoming family.
There was bickering.
There was posturing.
There was Ling Xing trying to braid Mo Yurou’s purple hair and Ling Yue apologizing for her twin’s behavior even as she helped.
But beneath it all, there was something else.
Warmth.
The genuine, chaotic, messy warmth of a family that was growing larger by the day.
Six sisters, he thought.
Two fiancées.
Five mothers.
Ten protection elders.
Hundreds of aunties.
One immortal ancestor.
I’m not just a villain.
I’m a villain with the biggest, most powerful, most terrifying family in the entire Primordial Realm.
[Correct, Host.
And every single one of them will contribute to your growth.
The sisters will protect you.
The fiancées will support you.
The mothers will nurture you.
The elders will train you.
And when the time comes.] I will kill them .
[No, Host.
You will not.] Tian closed his eyes, letting the warmth of his eldest sister’s arms and the happy chaos of his family wash over him.
Good.
Because being a villain is a lot of work.
[Rest, little one.
Tomorrow, you will be four days old.
And the day after that, five.
And before you know it, you will be ready to take your first step on the path.] And then?
[And then…
the world will learn what it means to fear the name Qin Tian.] Tian smiled, a tiny curve of infant lips that no one noticed.
Good.
— END OF CHAPTER 6