Two months passed in a blink after I returned to Harem Estate.
My alleged sister never arrived as promised.
News reached me in scattered whispers, trouble had erupted at the main family estate, far away in another province, binding her with duties and unrest she could not abandon. I did not press the matter. Blood may pull, but fate moves on its own rhythm, and haste only invites wounds. With courtesy intact and intentions unstrained, I departed the very next day, returning to my own estate to wait, patient and unruffled, letting time reveal what words could not.
I kept a light correspondence with the Wang Family Estate, no heavy matters, only greetings carried on paper and spirit marks.
Wanyue and Lingwan visited several times, and each meeting grew heavier with heat and familiarity. Tea steadied the spirit, conversation aligned intent, then the doors sealed and the room slowly filled with breath and warmth.
As we entered dual cultivation, they used their fingers to guide and attune the flowing energy along my Thick Dao Tool, and once its resonance was fully awakened, I carefully inserted it into them one at a time, its presence drawing out soft gasps and trembling focus rather than chaos.
Sweat beaded and slid along bare skin, steam rising until the chamber grew hazy, our mingled heat fogging both air and senses. We kissed often slow, deep, deliberate, using lips and tongues to hasten the exchange, yin and yang pouring back and forth in silken waves.
Cycle followed cycle, never rushed, each crest higher than the last, until energy swelled to its limit and my Thick Dao Tool will release Milky Dao Seeds inside of them, sinking deep and blooming into power. Before we began, I always had them take the Void Seal Pills, presented as an aid to balance and flow, a quiet precaution beneath the sweetness of repeated indulgence.
A month ago, I finally brought my family from Xuanlian City.
We rode together aboard a celestial airship, clouds parting beneath us like silk curtains drawn by unseen hands. Laughter drifted across the deck, mingling with wind and spirit mist, while storage rings swallowed years of belongings with a gentle hum. When the city finally faded into distance, no one turned back, Harem Estate had already settled itself firmly in their hearts, a place of return rather than departure.
Not long after our arrival, Yinqing, Yinxuan, and Yinyin joined us. They left their sect without hesitation, shedding robes of past allegiance as lightly as dust from their sleeves. Their eyes were calm, unclouded by doubt, their steps unburdened, as if the path ahead had already been chosen long ago. I married all three soon after, without delay or excess.
There were no grand banners stretching across city streets, no drums shaking the heavens. The wedding followed the old ways, quiet, deliberate, intimate. Red silk was still used, though modestly, tied at the wrists and woven into their hair. A low altar was prepared, incense burning slow and clean, its smoke curling upward like a prayer that did not need words. The matchmakers recited the formal verses, their voices steady, marking names, dates, and fate as tradition demanded.
We bowed first to Heaven and Earth, acknowledging the balance that allowed our paths to cross. Then to the ancestors, cups of clear wine poured and returned to the altar. Finally, we faced one another. Three bows, to bind past, present, and future. Sleeves brushed, fingers briefly touched, warmth passed without sound. When we drank from the shared cups, the wine tasted faintly sweet, tinged with spirit energy and promise.
No cheers followed, no applause. Only stillness, and the quiet certainty that the bond had taken root, firm and unbroken. Enough.
They were radiant that night, silk clinging to curves warmed by wine and anticipation. No rush followed the ceremony, only closeness, shared breaths, and the promise of nights yet to come.
Life at the estate had found its rhythm.
The celebration that followed the weddings was intimate and unhurried. Lantern light spilled across polished wood, casting warm halos that swayed gently with the night air. Cups were filled and refilled, wine loosening tongues without dulling clarity. Dishes arrived in quiet succession, fragrant meats, steamed delicacies, simple comforts, vanishing between conversations that drifted from cultivation insights to shared memories and small, human joys. Laughter echoed softly, then lingered even after it faded, like warmth sealed within jade, slow to cool.
Xiaoting, Yaolin, Xueyin, Xueyang, and Fenghua all carried our children, their steps slower now, bodies guided by careful instinct. Motherhood softened them, postures gentler, expressions deeper, a radiant calm settling into their eyes. Nearby, Meiyun, Lingyu, Lingxue, Qingwu, and Qingying remained close, an unspoken circle of support, lifting infants, steadying arms, murmuring reassurances. When cries rose, they fell just as quickly, soothed by practiced hands and shared smiles, the household moving as one living rhythm.
Night settled over Harem Estate like a slow, deep breath.
It had been months since I last shared true intimacy with my other wives, months of restraint tempered by duty and timing. Tonight, that balance tipped gently. This night belonged to Yinqing, Yinxuan, and Yinyin, newly bound, newly welcomed, their fate threads freshly knotted to mine.
When I entered the bridal chamber, the world beyond the doors seemed to vanish.
Red dominated everything, rich, auspicious crimson layered upon crimson. Silk curtains pooled like liquid flame, lanterns glowing softly behind gauze shades. The bed was carefully prepared, adorned with symbols that spoke without words: longans and lotus seeds for abundance, red dates for harmony, pomegranate sprigs heavy with promise. Every detail carried the weight of old tradition, the quiet insistence of fortune leaning close.
At the center of it all, Yinqing, Yinxuan, and Yinyin sat side by side upon the bed.
They were draped in wedding red, sleeves folded neatly, posture composed, red veils covering their faces. Even without seeing their expressions, I could feel their presence, three distinct currents of yin, familiar yet newly attuned, rippling softly through the chamber. The air itself felt thicker, warmer, as if the room had been waiting.
I did not hesitate.
I approached them slowly, deliberately, letting each step announce intention rather than urgency. Standing before them, I reached out and lifted Yinqing's veil first. The red silk slid away to reveal her face, calm and luminous, her smile gentle yet bright with restrained anticipation. Her eyes met mine, steady and trusting.
Then Yinxuan. When her veil lifted, her smile was softer, more reserved, but her gaze carried a quiet fire, the kind that burned steadily rather than flaring. Her breath caught just slightly as the veil fell away.
Finally, Yinyin. The youngest of the three tilted her head almost imperceptibly as I lifted the veil. Her smile bloomed openly, warm and unguarded, a hint of playful daring in her eyes despite the formal stillness of her posture.
Three smiles. Three temperaments. One shared night.
I began slowly.
I leaned toward Yinqing first, cupping her cheek with my palm. My lips met hers in a gentle kiss, unhurried, exploratory rather than consuming. She responded after a heartbeat's pause, lips soft, breath warming as it mingled with mine. The kiss lingered, deepened slightly, then eased apart, leaving a quiet hum between us.
I turned to Yinxuan next. Her shoulders tensed for a fraction of a second before relaxing as I kissed her. Her lips were cool at first, then warmed as she leaned in, fingers tightening lightly in her sleeves. The kiss remained restrained, intimate rather than demanding, a promise rather than a claim.
Last, I faced Yinyin. When I kissed her, she surprised me by leaning forward eagerly, lips parting just enough to invite a brief, teasing brush of my tongue. I indulged the invitation only for a moment before withdrawing, earning a soft, breathless sound from her that she quickly tried, and failed to suppress.
When I stepped back, all three were breathing a little faster, composure softened at the edges.
We lingered there, letting the moment stretch, soft laughter slipping out like steam, murmured words brushing the ear more than the air. Fingers traced sleeves, slid to wrists, lingered where pulse betrayed intent. Each accidental touch was anything but, sparking tiny ripples of yin that answered my own warmth. The stiffness of ritual dissolved quietly, melting into something closer, heavier, intimate. Breath slowed, then synced. By the time the room fully settled, it felt sealed from the world, spirits aligned, desire coiled and ready beneath calm surfaces.
Only then did I reveal my Thick Dao Tool.
It emerged into the lantern glow like a living thing, smooth, refined, faintly luminous, humming with restrained power that made the air tremble. Its presence alone thickened the chamber, pressing gently against skin and spirit alike. Though they knew it well, its effect was immediate.
Yinqing's ears flushed a tender red, her composure wavering as warmth crept up her neck. Yinxuan lowered her gaze, lashes trembling as she steadied her breathing, gathering herself with practiced restraint. Yinyin did not look away at all, her eyes bright, openly curious, lips parting slightly as interest bloomed without disguise.
The lantern flames wavered. Yin stirred. Before a single cycle began, my Thick Dao Tool had already claimed the room, drawing anticipation tight as silk pulled to the brink of tearing.
I said nothing, letting silence do the work.
One by one, they reached out.
Their fingers brushed my Thick Dao Tool hesitantly at first, then more confidently, soft skin sliding along its surface. They guided energy into it with practiced care, circulating spiritual intent through their palms and fingertips. My Thick Dao Tool responded, resonance deepening, warmth building in slow, controlled waves.
The chamber seemed to breathe with us.
When my Thick Dao Tool was fully awakened, humming in perfect harmony, we began dual cultivation in earnest.
I guided the flow first toward Yinqing. Her breath caught as I inserted my Thick Dao Tool into her meridians, a soft moan slipping free before she could restrain it, followed by a hushed whisper of my name. We moved together in measured rhythm, slow and attentive, letting energy lead rather than desire. Heat gathered beneath the skin, sweat beading at her temples and sliding down in quiet trails. The chamber warmed, breaths thickened, and when our circulation reached its crest, my Thick Dao Tool release Milky Dao Seeds inside her. She trembled, fingers clutching silk as power bloomed, her cultivation lifting cleanly and surely.
I withdrew with care and turned to Yinxuan, drawing her close and kissing her with unhurried affection. When I guided the Dao Tool into her flow, she exhaled a soft plea, "Slowly, husband", and I listened. Our movements remained gentle, precise, each exchange deepening resonance rather than haste. Heat radiated outward, lantern light wavering as the room grew faintly fogged with warmth and breath. Sweat mingled along our skin, and at the height of alignment, my Thick Dao Tool release Milky Dao Seeds inside her. She shuddered once, eyes closing as her realm settled into a stronger foundation.
Last came Yinyin. I took her by the waist, kissed her lips, and waited until her spirit opened fully, there was no hesitation when my Thick Dao Tool inserted into her. Our rhythm grew bolder, energy surging hotter, faster. Her moan rang clearer this time, unabashed, as sweat slicked her skin and the air thickened further. When the peak arrived, my Thick Dao Tool release Milky Dao Seeds inside of her. She gasped and trembled, cultivation surging upward in a smooth, undeniable ascent.
Three cycles completed, three seeds planted, each different, each perfect in its own way, leaving the chamber heavy with heat, harmony, and the quiet hum of growth well earned.
Yet we did not stop.
The night was long, and our resonance had only just found its stride. We kissed often, not just mouths, but foreheads, cheeks, the corners of lips, using closeness to hasten exchange. Every touch had intent, every brush of skin a conduit.
We continued cycle after cycle, allowing my Thick Dao Tool to be inserted into Yinqing, Yinxuan, and Yinyin in patient rotation. Each time, the rhythm returned more naturally, breath and pulse aligning without conscious effort. With every completed circulation, Milky Dao Seeds will be released, settling gently within them, unfolding its influence like petals opening to moonlight, boosting cultivation, replenishing vitality, feeding warmth back into our shared flow.
The exchange became continuous rather than discrete. Skin brushed skin, then lingered. Sweat mingled freely, warmth passing without barrier. Our breaths overlapped, exhalations stolen and returned, until the air itself felt alive, saturated with spirit and heat. The chamber grew hazy, lantern light blurring behind a veil of fog born from our bodies and the relentless circulation of energy.
Yinqing's composure softened into quiet surrender, her movements fluid and instinctive. Yinxuan remained precise yet radiant, each cycle deepening her foundation with controlled grace. Yinyin burned brightest, laughing softly between breaths, riding the surges without restraint.
Time lost meaning. Only rhythm remained.
By the time the night thinned toward dawn, the chamber still pulsed with lingering resonance, warmth ebbing and returning like a quiet tide. The fog faded slowly, reluctant to release us, spirit pressure settling into smooth, refined currents. We were spent but far from empty, tempered, elevated, our shared cultivation leaving a soft echo in every breath, every heartbeat, proof of growth earned without haste.
We lay together amid rumpled red silk, bodies close, the fierce heat of the night easing into a deep, languid comfort. I rested in the middle, the steady core around which everything had settled. Yinqing leaned against my left side, her cheek resting over my heart, breath calm and even, the serene glow of fulfilled cultivation still softening her features. Yinxuan lay to my right, one arm draped lightly across my waist, half-asleep, half-aware, fingers moving in slow, unconscious patterns as if still guiding qi along familiar paths.
Yinyin claimed the space above me without restraint, her body draped comfortably over my chest, warmth pressing close. Her head nestled beneath my chin, hair spilling across my shoulder, a faint smile lingering as though the night had followed her into dreams. We were barely covered, only thin, transparent robes separating skin from skin, silk clinging softly where warmth remained, offering modesty in name alone.
Breath rose and fell together, four rhythms gradually becoming one. The room was quiet now, lanterns dim, dawn light filtering through red curtains and painting everything in pale gold. Residual energy hummed gently beneath the calm, like embers buried in ash. In that stillness, wrapped in silk, warmth, and shared resonance, there was no urgency left, only belonging, and the quiet certainty that this night had bound us more deeply than vows ever could.
Outside, morning bells rang faintly in the distance.
Inside the bridal chamber, three new bonds had been tempered, not by haste, but by patience, heat, and shared cultivation that lasted until the very first light of day.