When Wang Zhihao woke up, the sun was already high in the sky, a pair of delicate feet were resting on his chest, and he was stark naked except for a suspicious gourd stuck to his thigh.
"System," he groaned, trying to push off the dainty foot. "Explain this depraved disaster to me. Now."
Ding!
[Congratulations, Host! You have successfully mastered the Secret Art of Ethereal Dual-Core Cucumber Cultivation! Stamina +500! Charisma +100! Fertility… questionable.]
"Questionable?!" Zhihao yelped, rolling over and immediately crashing to the floor with a thud, which in turn caused the gourd to bounce off and roll away, leaving behind a faint trail of purple glitter. "Why is there glitter? Why is there always glitter?!"
The woman whose foot had been draped across his chest yawned lazily and sat up. "Oh? You're finally awake, Master?" she cooed. It was Lin Yanyue, wearing nothing but a grin and a translucent jade robe that may as well have been a very ambitious mist. "You blacked out after attempting to cultivate with all three of us… at once."
Zhihao blinked. "Three…? What—"
At that moment, two more heads popped out from beneath the sheets. One was clearly Feng Meili, hair disheveled and proudly biting down on a cucumber like a victory cigar. The other was none other than Lady Ruoxia, the ever-so-dignified sect elder who now had a very undignified hickey glowing like a spirit mark on her neck.
"I hate myself," Zhihao muttered. "But I also want to high-five myself."
Lady Ruoxia looked vaguely murderous. "Do not speak of this to anyone. Or I will shove that gourd so far up your…"
"Okay! Message received! Loud and glittery!" Zhihao yelped, scrambling to put on a pair of pants that had somehow ended up dangling from a bonsai tree in the corner.
As the women began to clean up, gossip, and giggle in the background, Zhihao tiptoed out of the room. He was halfway down the corridor before the System chimed again.
Ding!
[New Quest Unlocked: Flee Before They Realize You Left Their Spiritual Roots in Disarray!]
"Oh, come on! I was gentle!" he snapped, right before bumping straight into the old sect master.
Sect Master Lu stared at him. Zhihao stared back.
Then Lu's gaze slowly lowered to the cucumber still somehow clinging to Zhihao's waistband like a badge of dishonor.
"Boy," Lu said, "I have lived for six hundred years, and I have never been this confused. Or aroused. But mostly confused."
"I can explain," Zhihao began.
"No. Don't," the sect master said, holding up a hand. "Just… go. Before I ask questions I regret."
Zhihao bolted like a rabbit possessed.
He ran straight into the courtyard, where the sect disciples were practicing a new sword formation. Unfortunately, due to an earlier mix-up involving alcohol, aphrodisiac mist, and several very unorthodox scrolls, the "sword" formation had become the "swordplay" formation in more ways than one.
"What in the orgiastic heavens is going on here?!" Zhihao shouted.
A disciple posed mid-thrust. "Master Wang! We're just practicing the technique you taught us last night—Thrusting Spear of the Burning Dragon!"
"That wasn't a cultivation manual! That was my novel draft!" Zhihao shouted. "I was writing erotica!"
The disciples froze. Then, one brave soul raised his hand. "Is… is Chapter 7 supposed to have a cliffhanger involving whipped cream and spirit chains?"
"I'm going to eat my own shoes," Zhihao muttered.
But before he could escape the embarrassment, an explosion rocked the outer courtyard.
BOOM!
He turned, only to see a thick cloud of smoke rise from the alchemy pavilion. A single charred figure stumbled out, coughing violently and covered in soot.
"Great news, Senior Brother!" It was Dong Fei, one of the alchemy nerds. "I finally refined the Pills of Infinite Pleasure!"
Zhihao blinked. "That sounds like a violation of at least nine laws of heaven."
Dong Fei grinned, revealing rainbow-colored teeth. "They taste like bubblegum and regret!"
"Did… did you eat them?" Zhihao asked.
Dong Fei's eyes widened like saucers. "They ate me."
Just then, a group of enraged rabbits—yes, rabbits—burst out from the alchemy pavilion. They were all glowing pink, vibrating, and some had visible six-pack abs. One was even wearing sunglasses.
The rabbit in front—clearly the leader—barked, "Return the sacred carrot or suffer the wrath of the Bunny Dao!"
Zhihao stared. "I'm either dreaming or still high on cucumber cultivation."
Ding!
[Host is currently 17% drunk on Yin Essence, 25% guilty conscience, and 58% sheer dumb luck.]
As the rabbits began to chase after the disciples, launching spiritual carrots like missiles, Zhihao knew only one thing:
It was Tuesday.
And Tuesdays in this sect had a habit of being weirder than a three-headed phoenix with a foot fetish.
Zhihao was now sprinting across the courtyard with two glowing rabbits in hot pursuit and one mounted on his shoulder like a furry pirate captain shouting, "Yin carrots or death!"
"System!" he screamed. "Deploy anti-bunny measures!"
Ding!
[Deploying Technique: Thunderous Clap of the Booty God – Rank: Questionable.]
"What the hell kind of name—"
Before he could finish the sentence, a golden buttock-shaped aura exploded from his rear, unleashing a thunderous shockwave of spiritual energy.
The rabbits were blasted backward, flipping in the air like fuzzy kung-fu stars and landing in a pile of aggressively twitching tails.
"System," he panted, "never—ever—use that technique again without buying me dinner first."
[Noted.]
He straightened himself and turned toward the crowd of stunned disciples who had witnessed the event. One raised a hand.
"Senior Brother," the disciple said, "what realm is the Booty God technique from?"
Zhihao dusted himself off and pointed dramatically toward the sky. "The realm of desperation and poor decision-making."
The disciples nodded as if he had just delivered heavenly wisdom. One even began etching it into a jade slip.
That's when Feng Meili stormed into the courtyard with a towel wrapped around her and steam trailing behind her like a vengeful spirit. "WANG ZHIHAO!"
"Oh crap." He froze. "She's doing the full-name shout. That's the shout that ends in concubine-shaped bruises."
"You left me in the tub with those two lunatics!" she yelled, brandishing a spiritual loofah that glowed with killing intent.
"In my defense," Zhihao said, backing away slowly, "I was trying to avoid a four-way cultivation burnout. You don't want to see what happened to my chi vein last time."
She wasn't listening. The loofah snapped out like a whip.
Zhihao ducked. The loofah hit a pillar, which immediately crumbled into dust.
"Is that the Loofah of the Nine Heavens?!" he gasped.
Meili's eye twitched. "It was a normal loofah until Lin Yanyue enchanted it out of spite. Now it criticizes my technique and calls me a prude!"
From behind her, the loofah actually sneered. "You slap like a sect librarian."
"Shut up, Eugene!" Meili screamed.
"Eugene?!" Zhihao shouted. "You named your loofah?!"
Before she could respond, a loud horn echoed across the valley.
Bwooooooooom!
"Uh-oh," Zhihao said, instantly forgetting the loofah-shaped trauma heading his way.
One of the outer sect disciples ran into the courtyard, pale and panicking. "Senior Brother Wang! It's the Cultivating Casanova Sect! They're here!"
"The who-now?" Zhihao asked.
Another disciple skidded into the courtyard, wheezing. "They're here to challenge your honor!"
"My honor?" he gasped. "That ship sailed, exploded, and was eaten by spiritual sharks seasons ago!"
But it was too late.
Down the mountain path came a procession of ridiculously attractive men. Shirtless. Gleaming. Muscles so perfectly oiled they reflected sunlight like disco balls. At their head was a tall, smug bastard with abs that could chop onions and a sword shaped like a giant rose petal.
"I am Liu Jinlong, Celestial Lover of the North," he declared. "And I have come to reclaim the sacred title of Most Ridiculously Handsome Man!"
"Oh no," Zhihao muttered. "He's hot and arrogant. I can't beat both."
"You insulted our sect by stealing our secret flirting techniques!" Jinlong accused.
"I don't even know how to flirt!" Zhihao protested. "Last week I tried to seduce someone with a pickle and the words 'you look like a woman of spiritual appetite.'"
"You then ate the pickle, moaned, and cried," Feng Meili added helpfully from the side.
Jinlong drew his flowery blade. "You shall duel me. Now. For beauty. For fame. For the last bottle of Virgin Yin Wine!"
Zhihao went pale. "Okay, now it's serious."
He stepped into the center of the courtyard. His hair fluttered. Birds flew dramatically behind him. His cucumber cultivation gourd rattled ominously.
"I challenge you," he said, pointing, "to the forbidden duel…"
Everyone gasped.
"…of Erotic Chess!"
Everyone groaned.
"Are you insane?!" Jinlong asked. "That game was banned in four sects and one retirement home!"
Zhihao grinned. "Exactly."
Ding!
[New Side Quest: Win the Erotic Chess Duel of Fates. Reward: Mystical Lingerie that Grants +20 Agility and +50 Distraction Bonus.]
The chessboard was summoned. It floated between them, glowing with symbols of yin and yang. The pieces were questionable. Most looked like positions from a manual not suitable for public display.
Jinlong made the first move. "I play the Busty Bishop, left flank."
Zhihao countered instantly. "I sacrifice the Naughty Knight to summon the Double D-Queen from the backdoor portal!"
Meili covered her face. "I am so done with this sect."
As the match raged on, disciples gathered, placing bets, passing popcorn, and some even fainted from spiritual overstimulation.
Finally, with one last sultry smirk, Zhihao slammed his piece down.
"Checkmate. With the Reverse Cowgirl Empress."
Jinlong staggered back, clutching his chest. "I've been… dethroned…"
He collapsed into the arms of his weeping sect brothers.
Zhihao stood, victorious. His hair wild. His aura glowing with the faint scent of questionable incense.
"Anyone else want some?" he roared.
A rabbit coughed. "Depends. Is chess always this horny here?"
Zhihao wiped sweat from his brow. "Only on Tuesdays."
After the Erotic Chess Duel of Destiny concluded and Jinlong was carried away in a golden stretcher lined with satin tissues, the crowd dispersed slowly—some in shock, others in unexplainable arousal. One disciple was muttering something about "chessboard PTSD" while another swore to never look at a pawn the same way again.
Zhihao collapsed onto a nearby rock, sweat glistening on his forehead like dew on a morning peach. Feng Meili approached, arms crossed, loofah Eugene dangling from her hip like a sidearm.
"You know," she said, tapping her foot, "there are normal ways to resolve a sect conflict. Like, I don't know, talking."
"I tried talking," Zhihao replied. "Then they flashed their abs and my brain shut down. You know how susceptible I am to spiritual pectorals."
Meili sighed. "You're lucky you won. If you had lost, I'd have had to rescue your dumb ass with the Forbidden Nipple Flick technique."
"Wait," he said, perking up, "that's real?"
"Very real. Very forbidden. Very pink."
Before he could request a demo, a new figure appeared above them on a flying sword shaped like a massive lipstick tube. Her flowing red robes clung to her curves, and her smile could start wars—or prevent them, depending on cleavage angle.
"I am Lady Chuntao, Sect Mistress of the Thousand Bloom Pavilion!" she announced, descending in a swirl of perfumed mist.
Zhihao stood. "Oh great. Another sect. Let me guess, here to challenge me to Erotic Mahjong?"
Lady Chuntao laughed melodically. "No, silly child. I'm here to recruit you."
Feng Meili and several other girls suddenly leaned in suspiciously.
"Recruit… him?" Meili asked, voice sharp enough to slice pork buns.
"Yes. We've seen the footage of his… performance," Chuntao said, fanning herself with a fan shaped like a heart. "He's got incredible dual cultivation potential. Unlimited stamina, idiotic bravery, and an aura of pure, raw, chaotic virility."
"You're making me blush," Zhihao said. "Wait, you have footage?!"
Chuntao snapped her fingers. A projection stone activated, showing a highlight reel of Zhihao's most compromising moments—including the time he tripped into a cauldron and accidentally brewed an aphrodisiac while butt-naked.
"Where did you even—"
"We have agents everywhere," she said with a wink.
A scroll floated to him. It was a contract.
"Join the Thousand Bloom Pavilion as our honorary Yin-Forged Consort. Benefits include: unlimited spiritual lotion, co-ed bubble bath formations, and access to the Pavilion's Secret Technique: Peach Blossom Overload."
Feng Meili immediately grabbed the scroll and set it on fire.
"He belongs to this chaotic harem, thank you very much," she growled.
"But it's got a spa formation, Meili! A spa!" Zhihao whined.
"Touch another sect's spa and I'll touch your soul sea—with a hammer."
Chuntao pouted, then handed over a business card. "If you change your mind, darling. The spa crystals are charged and waiting."
As she flew off, Zhihao looked longingly into the sky. "A spa… with hot stone qi massages… what could've been…"
"Focus, dumbass," Meili snapped. "We've still got to survive Sect Evaluation Day tomorrow."
Zhihao groaned. "Is that where the Elder Inspectors come and judge us while being extremely old, extremely powerful, and extremely judgmental?"
"Yup," she said. "And one of them is your aunt."
"...Which one?"
"The one who tried to marry you to a goat once because she misunderstood the term 'spiritual beast husbandry.'"
"Oh no," Zhihao whimpered.
That night, Zhihao tried to rest in his chamber, but his dreams were a chaotic mash of bunny cults, chess pieces seducing each other, and Jinlong's abs shooting lasers.
He awoke with a scream. "I AM NOT A QUEEN'S KNIGHT!"
"Shut up!" Lin Yanyue shouted from the next room. "Some of us are trying to cultivate through questionable dreams!"
Morning came far too quickly.
The Sect was buzzing. Evaluation Day had come.
Elder Inspectors descended from the skies like judgmental grannies from heaven. One sniffed the air and shouted, "I smell sexual techniques within a thousand miles! Unacceptable!"
Another examined a disciple's spiritual vein and declared, "This one's as limp as my third husband's soul root!"
The last, and scariest of all, was Zhihao's great-aunt: Elder Lady Huobao, the Fire-Spanked Widow of the South. A woman so feared, her hair had its own spiritual pressure. Her fan was made of phoenix feathers. Her glare could reverse erections.
She approached Zhihao.
"Boy," she said, squinting.
"Aunt Huobao," he said, kneeling with the formality of someone expecting to be spanked by fate.
"I heard you've been using the Forbidden Booty Cultivation Technique," she said flatly.
He coughed. "Technically… it's not forbidden if you rename it something else."
"What did you rename it?"
He gulped. "Thighs of Heaven—Volume One: Cheeks of Destiny."
She stared. The fan snapped shut like a guillotine. "Good. Send me a copy. Your uncle could use it."
"Wait, what?!"
She turned, waving one hand. "This sect is full of idiots. But you're the most entertaining idiot I've ever seen."
Zhihao blinked. "...Was that praise or a threat?"
"Both. Now pass your evaluation or I'm marrying you off to a yak demon."
The evaluation began.
One by one, Zhihao was tested in spiritual control (he accidentally set his robes on fire), alchemical knowledge (he created a pill that made you hiccup moans), and martial arts (he punched himself in the face with a spiritual mirror technique).
Yet somehow, through sheer luck and chaotic talent, he passed.
The Sect Masters stared at him.
Elder Huobao leaned in. "Say something, boy."
Zhihao stood tall. "As your humble disciple, I vow to keep cultivating harder, stronger, and hornier—uh, I mean, more honorably—than ever before!"
Silence.
Then applause.
The Sect roared. Zhihao had passed with flying spiritual colors.
As night fell, he lay in his courtyard, surrounded by his harem.
Meili, Yanyue, Qing'er, Bai Xiaoxiao, Su Lan, and even the aggressively judgmental rabbit spirit lounged nearby.
"You know," Meili whispered, leaning against him, "you're still an idiot."
"Yeah," he sighed, smiling. "But I'm your idiot."
A brief silence.
"Now take off your pants. We're cultivating under moonlight."
He blinked. "Wait, is that a euphemism or—"
"It's a full moon, dumbass. The yin essence is peaking. Don't make me get Eugene."
Zhihao obeyed. Because in the world of cultivation, sometimes… the smartest move is shutting up and enjoying your spiritual loofah.