Red Maple Mountain was not a single peak, but a sprawling mountain range draped in a sea of emerald bamboo. As Feng Muchen ventured deeper, the air grew noticeably fresher, heavy with the clean scent of damp earth and rustling leaves. Streams wound their way through the mountains, and the chirping of birds echoed through the verdant landscape. On some slopes, terraced fields of grain and vegetables were carved into the earth, painting a scene of pastoral tranquility. Within these mountains, the Lu family had constructed a network of villages and manors. Feng Muchen and the other immortal seedlings were settled in the Red Maple Mountain Manor, located on the periphery of the family’s domain. “There is a first-level spiritual vein beneath this manor. From now on, you will live and practice here in peace,” Lu Yuanding announced. “Rest assured, as long as you fulfill the conditions we agreed upon, you will be free to either leave the Lu family or remain with us.” “Uncle Fu, see that they are settled.” With those brief words, Lu Yuanding departed. Uncle Fu was an elderly man with hair the color of ash and a back slightly stooped with age. After introducing himself, he led the group through the necessary procedures, explaining the workings of the Red Maple Mountain Manor as they went. The manor was extensive, housing not only the newcomers but also the Lu family’s own immortal seedlings. However, most of those were descendants with unremarkable talent. The truly gifted resided in the core of Red Maple Mountain, where a second-grade spiritual vein provided a much denser concentration of spiritual energy. During their walk, they passed numerous Lu family members. These men and women watched Feng Muchen and his group with a mixture of curiosity and a thinly veiled arrogance. Feng Muchen remained unperturbed by their gazes. Politely, they were outsiders marrying into the family. Bluntly, they were here to breed. He did, however, observe that the Lu family members, both men and women, were quite good-looking. The thought made him somewhat less apprehensive about the ‘breeding’ to come. If one was here to have children, who wouldn't want their partner to be easy on the eyes? Feng Muchen had to admit, he had a weakness for a pretty face. An hour later, under Uncle Fu’s guidance, Feng Muchen and the others had signed their marriage contracts, received their identity cards and cultivation techniques, and been assigned their living quarters. His new residence was a self-contained courtyard of about two hundred square meters, complete with its own pavilions and a small loft, fully furnished. Sitting on the large bed in his room, Feng Muchen took out the cultivation technique. 《The Return to Origin Technique》 The moment he opened the manual, an image flickered to life on the page: an old man in gray robes, striking a formal pose. A voice emanated from the booklet, beginning a detailed explanation of the cultivation process. “So this is an immortal cultivation technique,” Feng Muchen marveled. “It even has moving pictures.” He couldn't resist scrutinizing the booklet, trying to understand the principle behind the images and sound, but the mystery of it eluded him. He set his curiosity aside and began to practice, following the instructions of the figure in the manual. After a great deal of effort, Feng Muchen finally managed to enter a state of concentration. His mind quieted, and he became aware of the world in a new way, sensing faint, colorful motes of spiritual energy drifting in the air around him. Realizing he had taken the first step—sensing spiritual energy—he immediately tried to draw it into his body. Under his deliberate control, the specks of light slowly gathered, seeping into him through the pores of his skin. The process was agonizingly slow. Each mote of spiritual energy he absorbed had to be guided through his meridians in a full circuit before a single, minuscule strand could be deposited in his dantian. As the spiritual energy circulated, it also nourished his flesh, blood, and bones, slowly purging impurities from his body in a process of refinement. The night passed. “So this is a ninth-grade spiritual root?” Feng Muchen gave a bitter smile as he gazed at the single, cool wisp of Qi floating in the sea of his dantian. “At this rate, it will take me years to break through to the first level of Qi refining.” And this was while practicing in a place with a spiritual vein. Without one, the speed would be even more glacial. In that moment, Feng Muchen gained a profound appreciation for just how arduous the path of immortal cultivation truly was. “Phew! It seems I’ll have to rely on the system.” Feng Muchen let out a long breath. Knowing that cultivating through his own efforts was simply unrealistic, the system was his only hope. “I wonder when the Lu family will arrange a wife for me?” he mused. “Ding ding ding!” Just then, the bell at his courtyard gate chimed. Someone was here. Feng Muchen left his room and opened the gate. “Feng Muchen,” Uncle Fu said from the doorway. “The family has arranged a welcoming banquet to cleanse you of the dust from your journey. Come with me.” Behind him, several of the other immortal seedlings were already gathered. “A welcoming banquet?” Feng Muchen had a good guess what that meant. He nodded. “Alright.” After gathering all twelve of the immortal seedlings, Uncle Fu led them to a spacious and elegant hall within the manor. The hall was empty of other people, with just twelve seats arranged around tables laden with fine wine and exquisite dishes. Shortly after everyone was seated, a procession of young women entered, each one graceful and charming in her own unique way. Just as he thought. Seeing them, Feng Muchen knew his guess had been correct. This “welcoming banquet” was for breeding. Fifty or sixty women filed into the hall, all of them comely. While none possessed the stunning, ethereal beauty of Lu Miaoge, many were exceptionally attractive, easily rivaling the internet celebrities of his past life. These women had clearly put great care into their appearance, and each cultivated a different air. Some were petite and radiated a cute, playful energy. Some wore simple makeup, appearing gentle and elegant. Some had sharp, blade-like eyebrows and wore practical, tough-looking outfits, exuding a heroic and valiant spirit. Some were adorned in elaborate palace dresses, their black hair coiled high, carrying themselves with a dignified grace. There were also those with a cold demeanor, like untouchable ice queens, and others who were sultry and alluring, draped in gauzy silks that hinted at long legs and seductive curves. It was a dizzying array of styles, a collection designed to ensure that every man present would find someone to captivate him. ‘This is quite the lineup,’ Feng Muchen thought, sighing in admiration at the veritable garden of beauties before him. He had to admit, the Lu family was certainly generous in this regard. A truly proper cultivation family! “These are all outstanding women from the secular branch of our Qingzhu Lu family. They are not only well-versed in etiquette but also proficient in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting. All of them are pure and chaste,” Uncle Fu announced. “Tonight, they are here to welcome and entertain you.” “Each of you may choose someone you fancy, and I will arrange the wedding for you,” Uncle Fu said. With that, he left the hall, leaving the twelve newcomers alone with the host of Lu family women. There was no need for Feng Muchen or the others to make the first move. The women approached the tables of their own accord. Although they were from the secular branch, most were still descendants of cultivators. No one had been forced to come; they were all volunteers. They hoped to choose a suitable immortal partner and bear a child with spiritual roots, whose future success would elevate their own status. Therefore, the initiative at this welcoming banquet was largely in their hands. Feng Muchen came from a farming family and was of average appearance. Combined with his ninth-grade spiritual root, only three women came to his side. He felt no slight, simply embracing the attention of the three who had approached him. One should learn to be content. Three was more than enough. Besides, the three sisters were not bad at all. One had a pure, lovely face and a lively personality. Another looked just as pure and lovely, but with a subtle hint of charm that gave her an air of both innocence and allure. The last had a gentle countenance and a graceful bearing, the very picture of a refined lady from a good family. The first two girls shared very similar features; they were likely sisters. This was enough. If he could have found three wives like this in his previous life, his ancestors would have wept with pride. Compared to Feng Muchen’s pragmatism, the other eleven were more reserved. Sun Wujie, for instance, was handsome and possessed a seventh-grade spiritual root. Seven women approached him. But he chose only a single petite, beautiful girl, politely turning the others away. An hour later, the welcoming banquet concluded. Everyone had chosen their "significant other." Except for Feng Muchen, who had chosen three, the others had only picked one or two. They still harbored ambitions for their own cultivation. For now, they chose one person to fulfill their contract with the Lu family and show goodwill, believing that if their cultivation succeeded, they could one day change their status. Later, under Uncle Fu’s arrangement, the twelve held a wedding banquet on the same day. The wedding was simple. After the ceremony, they retired to their bridal chambers. “My wives.” “Husband,” three voices replied in harmony. In the bridal chamber, Feng Muchen looked at the three charming figures before him, each a different flavor of beauty, and drew the bed curtain closed. In that year, at the age of eighteen, Feng Muchen married three wives. The refined lady was called Lu Lanshu. The one who was both pure and charming was named Lu Zier. The pure and lovely one was named Lu Qinger. They were, indeed, a set of sisters.

Chapter 4: Beneath Red Maple Mountain