Using my spiritual consciousness, I scanned the group gathered outside the courtyard gates.

  Thirteen people in total.

  Four spirit beasts were harnessed to a carriage laden with goods, while several others flanked the procession. Decorative muscle. Intimidation through numbers.

  I probed their cultivation levels.

  Not one of them was stronger than Adam. Not even close.

  Their auras hovered around Foundation Establishment at best. A shallow realm, brittle and unimpressive. The disparity between them and Adam was not marginal—it was overwhelming.

  They had come expecting a frail widow.

  Someone defenceless.

  Someone who would accept whatever terms were presented in exchange for safety.

  This would be amusing.

  With a faint smirk, I followed behind Adam, anticipating a spectacle.

  He burst through the gates.

  “Who in the Nine Nethers is stirring trouble at my door?”

  A squirrelly, rat-faced man stepped forward with exaggerated dignity, as though he were an emperor delivering a decree. His lips curled into a thin smile as he licked them.

  “Greetings. Bring forth the widow. Our Family Head is advanced in years and wishes to expand his lineage by establishing a branch family here. We have brought generous betrothal gifts.”

  He gestured grandly toward the carriage.

  “One tonne of rice. Half a tonne of meat.”

  Adam stared at him.

  The fire in his eyes burned hotter with every word. The woman who had healed him. Who had given him saint-tier techniques. Who had changed his destiny in the span of days.

  And they dared to treat her like livestock to be purchased.

  His aura erupted.

  The air warped violently.

  The smirk vanished from the rat-faced man’s expression. His knees buckled under the crushing pressure, and he slammed into the ground. His eyes bulged as Adam’s superior cultivation bore down on him like a mountain.

  He had come expecting prey.

  Instead, he had stumbled into a predator’s den.

  Yet even then, desperation forced arrogance through clenched teeth.

  “Our Family Head has connections within the kingdom!” he gasped. “Disregard his offer and your home will be seized by force. Choose wisely.”

  The audacity.

  I stepped forward at a measured pace.

  “System,” I murmured internally, “initiate the plan. Slowly release my vitality. Let’s break their spirits.”

  Ding. Ding. Ding.

  Host, affirmative. Time to take out the trash.

  I paused for half a heartbeat.

  The system’s tone carried an edge—forthright, almost aggressive. It seemed to relish superiority.

  Interesting.

  I looked at Adam. “Easy now. Allow me to handle this. Let’s give them something memorable.”

  Then I faced the procession.

  “System. With each step, restore my youth. Increase my aura gradually—until it reaches Void Transformation.”

  I began walking forward.

  Slowly.

  Deliberately.

  With every step, time itself seemed to retreat.

  Wrinkles smoothed. Skin tightened until it was flawless. Grey hair darkened into a cascade of lustrous black. My posture straightened; vitality surged through my limbs.

  I altered my attire as well—something elegant, mystical, undeniably captivating.

  Ten steps.

  Twenty.

  The years peeled away.

  Within a minute, I had regressed by fifty years.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  I caught a glimpse of myself reflected faintly in the polished surface of the carriage opposite. The resemblance to my former self was striking—almost haunting.

  Delicate.

  Beautiful.

  Deceptively fragile.

  But as my aura climbed—Foundation Establishment… Core Formation… Nascent Soul… climbing relentlessly higher—the entire procession began to tremble.

  Sweat poured from their faces.

  Several collapsed outright, sobbing for mercy.

  The beasts fared no better. One of the weaker creatures at the rear shrieked once before its body ruptured under the sheer weight of my pressure, exploding into a mist of blood and shattered bone.

  Silence followed.

  Oppressive.

  Absolute.

  Void Transformation pressed down upon them like the heavens themselves had descended.

  And I had not even spoken yet.

  “What was that about a widow becoming someone’s wife? I don’t recall anyone asking me. The widow?”

  My gaze settled on the steward.

  He broke immediately.

  “Please—please don’t kill me! I have an ageing mother at home who needs me!”

  “Die.”

  I flicked my wrist.

  Every cultivator surrounding the carriage detonated in unison. Blood mist hung briefly in the air before dissipating under the pressure of my aura. I released the remaining beasts—they had done nothing beyond serving as decoration—and after witnessing their companion’s violent end, they fled without hesitation.

  I turned back to my companions.

  “So,” I asked lightly, “shall we go pay a visit to my future betrothed?”

  They stood frozen, still processing what they had just witnessed.

  “What are you all shocked about?” I waved a hand dismissively. “That wasn’t even the Saint Realm. That was merely Void Transformation. I’ll explain it properly another time. It’s still too early to unveil everything.”

  I delivered the line as though withholding profound knowledge for their own good.

  In reality, I wasn’t entirely certain myself.

  At some point, I would need a proper briefing from the system. The sheer volume of information crammed into my mind was staggering—every supportive Dao path refined to its peak, even paths foreign to this world; alchemical formulae beyond mortal comprehension; formations capable of shattering continents; taming methods for primordial beasts; and much more.

  Sorting through it all felt like searching for a needle in a haystack.

  A structured review session was overdue.

  While I was contemplating this, the children exchanged looks.

  The boys stared at me with undisguised awe. I could practically see their thoughts racing.

  I can’t wait to become that strong.

  One day, I’ll reach that realm.

  Lucy, however, was studying something else entirely.

  My outfit.

  There was unmistakable longing in her eyes.

  Noted.

  I would need to arrange proper attire for all four of them. Practical garments infused with minor formations would also make maintenance easier.

  I clapped my hands, drawing their attention back to me.

  “Shall we head to Falling Star City and remove this nuisance properly? Adam—did they have any identifying marks? I’d prefer not to eliminate the wrong family.”

  They snapped back to focus. Adam quickly searched the remains and retrieved a small emblem. On one side was engraved a single word:

  SMITH

  On the reverse, a flower encircling a skull.

  “Ms. The Smith Family of Falling Star City,” Adam reported. “They’re technically a Core Formation family… but only barely. Their head suffered an injury years ago and can’t advance further.”

  “Good,” I said calmly.

  We set off at an unhurried pace, choosing to walk rather than fly. The journey allowed the children to observe the rolling plains and distant hills surrounding the Pagoda. The open land felt peaceful—an ironic contrast to what awaited the Smith Family.

  Two hours later, the walls of Falling Star City came into view.

  At the gates, the mortal guards noticed me immediately.

  They did not question us.

  They simply waved us through.

  Their faces flushed bright red as I approached. Several of the men abruptly shifted their shields in front of their groins, attempting to conceal a rather obvious reaction. One unfortunate guard’s codpiece visibly strained beneath the pressure of his own enthusiasm.

  Impressive durability, considering the bulging metal.

  “Evening, guards,” I said sweetly, offering them a small wink as I passed.

  They nearly collapsed on the spot.

  Adam, apparently assuming I had no idea where I was going, stopped to ask the guards for directions to the Smith Family estate.

  The guards were curious.

  “Why are you looking for one of the main families of the city?” one of them asked.

  Adam answered plainly, “They attempted to force a harmless old lady into marriage.”

  The atmosphere shifted instantly.

  “Who?” the captain demanded.

  “The older cultivator who lives outside the city. The one who cleared out those thugs the other day.”

  Recognition dawned.

  Rage followed.

  The guards straightened, expressions darkening. “Inform the Captain,” one muttered to another. “Things may become… unstable.”

  By the time Adam and the children turned back toward me, I had already located the Smith estate with my spiritual consciousness. A courtyard marked by a large plaque bearing a single word:

  SMITH

  The city itself was interesting.

  It leaned heavily into an “east meets west” aesthetic—sweeping tiled roofs and martial pavilions standing beside stone fa?ades and iron-latticed balconies. Everything was built upward and outward in tiers. Only the influential constructed high. Only the powerful looked down.

  A hierarchy carved into architecture.

  “System,” I mused internally, “I think we need a bigger Pagoda.”

  Ding-Ding-Ding

  Host, please be patient. You currently possess three children and one helper—not an empire.

  A brief pause.

  Yet.

  I chuckled softly.

  It seemed the system had ambitions it had not fully disclosed. If that meant entertainment along the way, I was hardly opposed.

  We arrived at the Smith estate gates.

  Two young guards—no older than fifteen or sixteen—stood watch. As I approached, they performed their duty.

  “Halt! Who goes there?”

  Their spears crossed defensively.

  “System,” I asked internally, “do I possess any charm techniques? And why am I so disturbingly calm about mass murder?”

  Ding-Ding-Ding

  Host, most mortals will respond naturally to your enhanced vitality and beauty. This is a passive effect of your inheritance. However, you lack formal charm techniques at present.

  A beat.

  Additionally, I am assisting in regulating extreme emotional fluctuations while you acclimate to this environment.

  Good.

  That reduced the probability of indiscriminate slaughter followed by existential trauma.

  Aloud, I smiled pleasantly.

  “I heard your Family Head desired this old widow as his bride. I’ve come to return his betrothal gifts… and present one of my own.”

  The two guards blinked.

  They had seen me in the city before, back when I truly looked the part of a harmless elder. But they had not yet reconciled that memory with the woman standing before them now.

  Confusion lingered.

  Attraction won.

  They lowered their spears.

  “We—we’ll inform the Family Head.”

  Inside, the two young guards hurried toward the main hall. They knocked upon towering mahogany doors and relayed the message to the steward and Family Head within.

  “What do you mean a young widow?” the steward demanded.

  The Family Head frowned. “I distinctly remember targeting the Clear Water Elder’s land. It was meant to be simple. Marry the widow. Remove her quietly. Absorb the territory.”

  Murmurs rippled through the hall.

  “A young widow?” someone repeated uncertainly.

  The Family Head’s confusion slowly twisted into satisfaction.

  “So,” he said, adjusting his robes with a self-satisfied smile, “it seems a beauty has taken interest in me.”

  He rose from his seat.

  “Come. Let us not keep my bride waiting.”