The sun cast golden rays over Qinglong Village, illuminating the serene landscape where rolling hills met the vast sky. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves, carrying with it the crisp scent of autumn. Among the villagers, one boy stood out—not just for his unnatural confidence or the talent he had displayed during the Spirit Testing Ceremony, but for something far more striking.
Wu Tian was beautiful.
Not just in the way a child was expected to be, but in a way that made even grown women stop and take a second glance. His jet-black hair shimmered under the sunlight, cascading down his shoulders like strands of silk. His eyes, dark as the abyss, carried an unfathomable depth—reflecting a wisdom far beyond his years. His jawline, sharp and refined, hinted at a future where he would leave broken hearts in his wake. His lips were perfectly sculpted, holding an irresistible charm that would someday have women fighting over his affection.
Even at ten years old, he was already beginning to develop the aura of a future lady-killer.
The village girls—both young and old—had already taken notice.
"Ah! Wu Tian is growing up so fast! He looks just like a young immortal!"
"If I were a little younger… ahem—I mean, he'll definitely be a heartbreaker in the future."
"My daughter always talks about him! It's like she's bewitched!"
The village aunties gossiped whenever he walked by, their eyes gleaming with admiration. Even the grandmothers found themselves sighing in appreciation. It was a phenomenon that would only grow stronger as he aged.
The Making of a Simp
Wu Tian, despite his overwhelming talent and intelligence, had one fatal flaw—he was a simp.
Perhaps it was because he had been a lonely light novel reader in his past life, never having the chance to experience romance firsthand. Or maybe it was simply his nature, but ever since he could remember, he had found himself drawn to beauty like a moth to a flame.
At five years old, he had stared a little too long at the village herbalist's eldest daughter.
At six, he had tried to impress a passing female cultivator by reciting poetry—though it ended with her ruffling his hair and calling him "cute."
By the age of ten, he had already established himself as Qinglong Village's most flirtatious little devil.
Of course, his advances were still innocent—mostly exaggerated compliments, lingering gazes, and an occasional attempt at acting suave. But even at this stage, he had already gained a reputation.
"You're the most beautiful girl in the village, Miss Ling."
The baker's daughter blushed, covering her face with her hands. "Wu Tian, you're such a charmer! You shouldn't say things like that to an older girl!"
"But it's the truth." He flashed her a dazzling smile, one that would one day cause wars between noble clans.
Nearby, the butcher's daughter huffed. "Hmph, he said the same thing to me last week."
Wu Tian merely chuckled. This was the way of life.
A Natural Gift for Women
While most of the other boys in the village were still awkward around girls, Wu Tian had already mastered the art of flattery. His interactions weren't just random nonsense—there was a strategy behind them. He would observe carefully, choosing words that suited each girl's personality. For the shy ones, he offered gentle praise. For the bold ones, he played the mysterious, untouchable genius.
And it worked.
Even though he was still young, he could already predict that once he grew older, things would get very interesting.
Cultivation and Women—Why Not Both?
Of course, Wu Tian wasn't just about flirting. He was still a cultivator at heart, destined for greatness.
Each morning, he would train diligently, refining his qi and exploring the mysteries of the Dao of Time. His father, Wu Jian, had taken notice of his discipline and began teaching him basic martial arts, unaware that Wu Tian had already been studying the way of the sword in secret.
He quickly became the strongest among his peers, but that wasn't enough. He craved more—he wanted to transcend.
However, there was one thing he refused to sacrifice for the sake of cultivation.
Women.
Unlike those stubborn protagonists in the novels he used to read—the ones who pushed away all romantic interests in pursuit of some grand Dao—Wu Tian had made his stance clear:
"Why not have both? Why must a cultivator choose between strength and pleasure?"
It was a philosophy that would define him in the years to come.
The Path Ahead
As Wu Tian continued to train and flirt his way through Qinglong Village, the world outside remained oblivious to the storm that was brewing.
A genius had been born—one with an unparalleled affinity for time itself, a face that could make women swoon, and a heart that refused to let go of life's pleasures.
He was not just any cultivator.
He was Wu Tian—the Handsome Devil, the Simp Supreme, and the Future Master of Time.
And his story was only just beginning.