The Imperial Harem was no longer a place of courtly intrigue or whispered rivalries. It had been transformed into a sanctum of systematic, sacred production. The Ancestor's decree was not a suggestion; it was the fundamental law of their existence, as immutable as the rising sun. The purpose of a wife was to bear fruit. A fallow field was a sin against the Dynasty's future.
He began with Wang Xia, the Verdant Lily. Her docile nature and Verdant Empress Body made her the most receptive vessel. The process was not one of passion, but of cultivation. In a private chamber filled with the scent of blooming spirit herbs, he guided her through a meditation, aligning her life-giving energy with his own primordial Netherworld Qi. The union was gentle, almost clinical, a gardener carefully planting a precious seed in soft, fertile earth. The System confirmed the successful implantation within hours, her body eagerly accepting its purpose. She was returned to her pavilion with a beatific smile, her hands already resting on her abdomen, a living portrait of serene fecundity.
Next was Su Moqing, the Silken Matron. This was an act of pure dominance, a crushing of the last vestiges of her old-world pride. There was no meditation, no alignment of energies. It was a cold, efficient transaction of power in her sparse chambers. He looked upon her not with desire, but with the intent of a conqueror claiming the final, stubborn resource of a defeated land. Her silent, rigid tears were of no consequence; they were merely rain on the field. The implantation was more forceful, the System working to overcome the natural resistance of her aged and unwilling body. When it was done, he left without a word, the act itself the only message required. She was left curled on her side, a hollowed-out vessel, her shame complete.
Finally, it was time for Chu Ling, the Second Wife. Her "preparation" had been ongoing since her branding. Her reforged body, designed for this singular purpose, hummed with a traitorous readiness. The Ancestor came to her in the silent hours of the night. He did not speak. His will alone pressed her down onto the silks of her bed. The act was a relentless assertion of ownership, a final sealing of the brand that bore his name. Her body, perfectly crafted for him, responded with a shameful, overwhelming intensity that broke what little spirit she had left. She wept silently throughout, but her form arched to meet his, a beautiful, broken instrument playing its programmed tune. The System's chime of successful implantation felt like a death knell. She was now, irrevocably, his.
But for the Phoenix Empress, his first and most prized, a different ritual was required. A reward for her loyalty and a testament to her unique status.
He summoned her to his private sanctum. She arrived, her aura a blend of imperial authority and deeply ingrained submission. She knelt before him, her head bowed not in fear, but in expectant devotion.
"My Empress," he said, his voice a soft caress. "The others have received their seeds. They fulfill their basic function. But you... you are the foundation. Your womb has already borne a Tyrant. For you, the planting is a sacred renewal. A communion."
He did not guide her to a bed or a meditation mat. He remained seated on his throne of woven shadow and solidified moonlight.
"And for such a sacred duty," he continued, his green eyes glowing with possessive fire, "a sacred method is required. You will not receive your seed as they did. You will take it. You will actively partake in the renewal of your own purpose."
A flicker of confusion crossed her face before it was smoothed away by training. "How may this one serve, Master?"
With a thought, he loosened the ties of his robes. "With your mouth, my love. The gateway of your breath, your voice, your sustenance. You will serve your Emperor and receive his blessing directly."
Understanding dawned, followed by a wave of profound, shocking intimacy. This was not the clinical impregnation of the others. This was an act of extreme favor, of twisted reverence. It was a command that cemented her status above all others, even as it placed her on her knees.
A deep blush spread across Su Wan's cheeks, a mix of shame and a strange, fervent pride. This was her Master's will. This was her honor.
She leaned forward with a grace that belied the act's nature. Her movements were not rushed or crude; they were reverent, a high priestess performing a sacrament. She served him with her mouth, her eyes closed, her entire being focused on the act of devotion. It was a display of absolute submission and absolute privilege, a paradox that perfectly defined her existence.
The Ancestor watched her, his hand gently stroking her hair, his expression one of deep, satisfied approval. This was the pinnacle of his control. Not just to use her body, but to command her complete and willing participation in her own use.
When the moment came, he did not withdraw. He held her head in a gentle, unyielding grip, bestowing his "blessing" directly down her throat. She accepted it without hesitation, a final, physical vow of consumption and obedience.
As she knelt back, catching her breath, the System chimed.
[Ding! Seed of Many Offspring successfully implanted in Breeder #001 (Yin Phoenix Awakened).]
[Reward: Cultivation Base Boost! Host's comprehension of the 'Dao of Dominion' significantly enhanced.] [Host Cultivation Base: Pinnacle of Full-Step Soul Transformation Realm -> **Early Ascendant Soul Realm**.]
Power, vaster and more profound than anything he had yet experienced, flooded him. His soul felt like it could step free of his body and command the heavens. The world sharpened to an impossible degree. He had ascended. Not through arduous meditation, but through the fertile obedience of his Empress.
He looked down at Su Wan, who was gazing up at him with awe and a feverish devotion.
"The harvest continues," he murmured, helping his beloved Empress to her feet. "And you, my Phoenix, remain its most bountiful field."
The cycle was complete. All his wives were planted. The garden was fertile. And the gardener had reached a new apex of power, his path to divinity paved with the wombs of the women he owned.