Another month had slipped by like silk through fingers, and at last the day of departure arrived.
The docks shimmered beneath the pale morning sun, five sleek river vessels swaying gently against their moorings. My banners fluttered proudly from each mast, the newly registered insignia of our trading company embroidered in gold thread.
What began as ambition had now taken form, wood, sail, steel, and eighty pairs of disciplined, dangerous eyes awaiting my command.
Our destination lay to the west, Xiling City, nestled along the mighty Great Jinyu River in Qingyuan Province. Beyond it rose the Qingshan Mountains, rich with iron and silver veins, and deeper still, gold.
But it was the crystal mine hidden among those peaks that truly stirred my interest, rare spiritual crystals guarded like a dragon's hoard, capable of being refined into artifacts worthy of Golden Core cultivators.
The journey upstream would take at least twelve days, perhaps more. The current would resist us, just as fate resists the bold. Yet resistance breeds strength. This voyage was not merely trade, it was tempering.
For my women. For my force. For the harem that had grown from scattered petals into a sharpened storm.
The eight former river bandits stood at the bow of the lead ship, no longer ragged predators but disciplined warriors clad in fitted armor that traced their curves without apology. Behind them, eighty chosen women from the two hundred recruits waited in formation.
For over a month they had endured relentless training, body refinement, weapon drills, and long nights of dual cultivation beneath my guidance. Their qi no longer trembled. It coiled within them like heat beneath silk.
I walked among them before departure, my gaze slow, deliberate. They felt it. The subtle tightening of breath. The faint flush along elegant necks.
Their loyalty was not born from chains but from shared intensity, sweat, cultivation, and the intoxicating harmony of circulating qi in intimate proximity. We had broken barriers together, dissolved hesitation together. Now they moved as one body.
Five boats would sail. Two remained docked, held in reserve should misfortune dare test us. I did not build foundations on arrogance. Every things had been registered properly, every document sealed.
Merchants from the eastern districts had entrusted us with textiles, medicinal herbs, and refined metals. By the time we returned, I intended to secure contracts from the western markets as well. Trade was influence. Influence was power.
Trade was influence. Influence was power.
And power, when rooted properly, became destiny.
At the same time, my ambitions stretched beyond simple commerce.
The western mines called to me like hidden lovers veiled in stone. Iron of higher grade. Silver infused with natural spiritual veins. Perhaps even legendary materials, elemental crystals born from the heart of the earth itself.
As a cultivator already standing within the Golden Core Realm, I could ride the skies upon a flying sword… but a true sword required a worthy body.
I would not waste my qi on mediocrity. I needed a blade forged from rare essence, light enough to reduce expenditure, durable enough to withstand storms of battle, sharp enough to cleave both steel and fate.
If I secured a steady supply from the mines near the Qingshan Mountains, it would not only anchor long-term trade routes to the west, but also allow me to forge proper weapons for my growing force.
With the right materials flowing consistently into my hands, I could arm my women with blades worthy of their training, temper their strength with steel that would not shatter under pressure, and elevate our entire faction from a rising enterprise into a power others would think twice before provoking.
A superior sword would not merely be a weapon, it would be an extension of my will. With the right elemental crystal embedded into its core, its resonance with my Golden Core would multiply efficiency, cutting qi consumption while amplifying lethality.
In battle, endurance decided life and death. I intended to endure longer than anyone who stood against me.
Before departure, we held a celebration befitting a new beginning.
Firecrackers exploded along the docks, red paper scattering like blessings across the wooden planks. Offerings were placed before carved tablets honoring the river deities of the Great Jinyu River, incense smoke curling upward as if carrying our ambitions to the heavens.
Drums thundered. Gongs clashed loudly enough to stir the water itself. Laughter, wine, roasted meats, and sweet pastries filled the air with warmth. It was not merely ritual, it was declaration.
Many of my connections attended. My aunt Junying stood tall and composed, though her eyes betrayed quiet pride. Beside her, aunt Junxin wore a knowing smile, her gaze occasionally lingering on me in a way that was both affectionate and teasing.
Wanyue and Lingwan remained close as well, their presence steady and supportive. The rest of the family sent gifts and written blessings, citing urgent matters, likely the lingering disturbances from demonic cult activity in the outer regions. But today, beneath the roar of drums and the scent of incense, none of that shadow could dim the fire in my chest.
The west awaited. And I would not arrive quietly.
Not long after the final firecracker faded into drifting smoke, just before noon, the fleet began its steady departure toward Xiling City.
The sails unfurled like wings stretching for distant horizons. From the docks of Jintian City, my wives stood watching, their robes swaying gently in the river breeze.
Even from afar, I could feel their gazes, warm, possessive, filled with expectation. Some lifted their hands in silent farewell. Others simply watched me with steady eyes that said more than words ever could.
Slowly, the shoreline shrank. The towers of Jintian City blurred into the horizon until at last, they vanished entirely.
The river stretched wide and calm before us, its surface gleaming beneath the afternoon sun. At this hour, we were alone upon the water.
Most merchants favored land routes when heading west. Though slower, those paths wound through towns and villages, offering countless chances for small trades and negotiations. Caravans could profit from local exchanges at every stop.
Yet large shipments were costly to guard, and overland transport limited the volume of goods one could move efficiently.
On water, however, a fleet like mine could carry far more in a single journey, with greater stability and control.
Though traveling upstream denied us speed, the river granted consistency, no broken wheels, no muddy roads, no endless tolls at every border crossing. What we lacked in swiftness, we compensated for in volume and security.
Five ships moving as one could transport what even a large caravan would struggle to bear, and with fewer eyes prying into our cargo along the way.
I preferred this. The solitude. The sense of calculated movement. Ships cutting against the current in disciplined formation, oars dipping in rhythmic unity.
The eighty women aboard remained vigilant, rotating duties between navigation, watch posts, and cultivation cycles below deck. Their training had instilled more than strength, it had forged cohesion. Even the eight former bandits carried themselves with new refinement, their once-wild auras now honed into controlled sharpness.
At intervals, I stepped to the bow of the lead vessel and activated my Perception Eyes. Spiritual light gathered faintly behind my pupils as I scanned the riverbanks, the shifting currents, the distant tree lines.
Any fluctuation in qi, any hidden formation, any ambush lying in wait, I would see it first. But the Great Jinyu River flowed peacefully, its currents steady despite our upstream climb.
We advanced at a measured pace, not reckless, not slow. Just enough to preserve stamina and conserve qi. For now, the river offered no challenge.
As dusk bled across the horizon, the sky dimmed into deep violet. Though we could continue, I chose caution over pride. Night travel along the river was treacherous, hidden sandbanks, drifting debris, or unseen figures watching from the darkened banks.
Low visibility turned even calm waters into quiet predators. When we reached a stretch known for its open banks and stable current, I ordered the fleet to anchor. Iron hooks bit into earth. Ropes tightened. Lanterns were lit along each deck, their golden glow reflecting across the rippling surface.
The women rotated into night watch formations with disciplined efficiency. Some cultivated silently beneath the awnings. Others maintained guard along the perimeter. But for me, the deepening night signaled another form of strengthening.
Guiniang, Hongli, Langyan, Zerou, Jiangyuan, Jiangluan, Beixue, and Heying understood without words. The eight former river bandits had long since grown accustomed to these nights of shared cultivation. Guidance, affection, and the Milky Dao Seeds I had bestowed upon them had refined not only their meridians, but their instincts.
They entered the inner chamber of the main ship quietly, robes of thin translucent silk clinging to supple figures warmed by circulating qi. Lanternlight painted their curves in soft gold.
I sat cross-legged at the center of the broad bed, calm, steady, my Golden Core humming faintly within my dantian.
At my gesture, they approached one by one, not timid, not hesitant, but reverent. Their palms brushed against me as they began drawing forth my Thick Dao Tool, channeling their energies into it with practiced precision. Spiritual currents layered upon one another, weaving heat and pulse into a single focused core.
When my Thick Dao Tool thrummed with layered essence drawn from all eight women, I guided that concentrated flow toward Guiniang. She knelt before me, eyes smoldering yet disciplined, her breathing slow and controlled. Our qi intertwined and began a steady, deliberate rhythm, rising and falling like the river outside. At the peak of resonance, my Thick Dao Tool release Milky Dao Seeds inside her dantian, drawing a trembling gasp as her aura surged brilliantly.
Next, I inserted my Thick Dao Tool into Hongli. She approached with confident grace, her palms resting lightly against my shoulders as our qi aligned. The rhythm resumed, measured, controlled, each breath feeding the circulation between us. The others observed in silence, refining their own meridians through the shared field of energy. Soon, my Thick Dao Tool pulsed intensely, condensing its essence before releasing Milky Dao Seeds into Hongli's dantian, drawing a soft, shuddered exhale from her lips.
Then it was Langyan's turn. Her gaze was sharp yet heated, betraying the fierce determination beneath her composed exterior. As I guided the energized flow into her, our movements became fluid and precise, perfectly synchronized with the circulating spiritual currents. The chamber warmed as layered qi overlapped and strengthened. It did not take long before my Thick Dao Tool vibrated at its peak, releasing refined Milky Dao Seeds that settled deep within Langyan, causing her aura to flare brilliantly.
Zerou stepped forward next, softer in demeanor but no less resolute. When our qi connected, the rhythm shifted subtly, gentler, yet just as profound. The others watched closely, absorbing every fluctuation as the spiritual field thickened around us. Energy rose in steady waves, cresting with controlled intensity. At the moment of culmination, my Thick Dao Tool discharged condensed Milky Dao Seeds into Zerou's core, drawing a quiet gasp as her spiritual presence brightened with newfound stability.
Jiangyuan followed, her expression calm but her breathing already deep in anticipation. I guided the resonance into her meridians, and together we established a firm, unwavering cadence. The shared cultivation space grew denser, the combined aura of all present amplifying the process. As the rhythm reached perfect alignment, my Thick Dao Tool released Milky Dao Seeds inside Jiangyuan's dantian. Her body trembled subtly, aura surging outward in a steady, radiant bloom.
Jiangluan approached without hesitation, confidence gleaming in her eyes. When our energies intertwined, the circulation accelerated slightly, sharper yet disciplined. The watching women adjusted their breathing in unison, synchronizing with the fluctuating field. Heat gathered, compressed, and refined within my Thick Dao Tool until it reached full resonance. With a final pulse, it released Milky Dao Seeds into Jiangluan, who exhaled softly as her aura expanded, richer and more refined than before.
Beixue stepped forward with quiet intensity, her cool composure contrasting the warmth of the chamber. As I guided the energized flow into her, our rhythm became steady and enduring, like a mountain unmoved by storm. The others felt the shift, stabilizing their own cores in response. When my Milky Dao Tool reached its threshold, it delivered another concentrated Milky Dao Seeds into Beixue's dantian. Her eyes fluttered briefly as her aura brightened, crystalline and firm.
Finally, Heying approached, the last of the eight. Her gaze lingered on mine before she settled into place, breathing already attuned to the shared cadence. When our qi merged, the chamber seemed to hum in approval. The circulation rose smoothly, refined by all who had come before her. At the peak of resonance, my Thick Dao Tool released Milky Dao Seeds into Heying's core. A soft tremor passed through her as her aura surged, completing the cycle of strengthening.
One cycle was never enough.
The night was still young, and the spiritual tide within the chamber had only begun to rise.
My Golden Core rotated steadily, absorbing, refining, redistributing. With a slow breath, I drew the eight of them back into formation. Guiniang's eyes glowed with renewed hunger for advancement. Hongli rolled her shoulders, already steadying her qi. Langyan, Zerou, Jiangyuan, Jiangluan, Beixue, and Heying each adjusted their breathing in practiced unison, preparing their meridians to receive again.
The second cycle began with deeper synchronization.
Our previous exchanges had opened their pathways further, making the circulation smoother, more intense. Qi flowed not merely between two bodies, but through all nine of us in a layered network of warmth and pressure.
Their translucent robes clung to heated skin, rising and falling with controlled breaths. No words were needed, only rhythm, only pulse, only the subtle guidance of my will inserting my Thick Dao Tool from one to the next.
Each reception was stronger than before. Their soft exhalations blended into a restrained chorus as their auras brightened in turn. The chamber itself seemed saturated with spiritual mist, golden and faintly luminous, drawn from the combined essence of repeated refinement.
Outside, the anchored ships creaked gently against the current, unaware of the forging taking place within the flagship's heart.
We continued deep into the night, long past the hour when ordinary cultivators would have exhausted themselves.
Sweat glistened lightly along smooth skin, but their focus never wavered. I could feel their cores stabilizing further with every cycle, foundations thickening, spiritual veins widening.
By the time we finally allowed the rhythm to slow, the moon had climbed high above the river. The night was nearly spent, yet our strength had multiplied quietly beneath its silver gaze.