My Xianxia Harem Life

While several cultivators chose to leave in pursuit of their own fortunes or out of fear of the unknown, the overwhelming majority decided to remain inside Riley's Void Sanctuary.

The atmosphere within the sanctuary had changed—becoming less of a temporary refuge and more of a budding stronghold, a place where legends might one day be born.

And the primary reason for this unusual unity could be traced back to one man: Daoist Third Eye.

"To leave now is to walk blindly into calamity. But those who remain under the shadow of Senior Riley shall prosper beyond imagination," the enigmatic seer had declared, his voice calm yet filled with a mysterious weight that settled into the hearts of all who listened.

His prophecies, often cryptic but eerily accurate, had earned him a reputation bordering on reverence.

Many had once scoffed at his words, but now they clung to them as though they were divine scripture.

Despite the growing influence of this old divination master, Riley could only shake his head in amused helplessness.

He had never met Daoist Third Eye in person, though not for lack of trying.

The elusive old man was as slippery as a shadow and had an uncanny talent for vanishing just before any meeting could be arranged.

Whether it was intentional or simply fate playing tricks, Riley didn't know.

Still, the Daoist remained within the Void Sanctuary, residing in an obscure, hidden corner that only a few even knew existed.

He refused all audiences, yet his words spread like wildfire—passed from mouth to mouth, etched onto jade slips, and broadcasted by devout followers.

His influence ran deep, and with every new prophecy, more cultivators abandoned their doubts and chose to stay.

And so the sanctuary, once just a temporary hiding place, began to evolve into something more—something destined to be remembered.

Whether Riley liked it or not, he had become the center of a movement… all because one old man wouldn't stop speaking in riddles.

As for the accommodation of the millions who chose to remain within Riley's Void Sanctuary, they were treated to a lifestyle so luxurious and surreal that many thought they had died and ascended to some heavenly realm.

Food, shelter, warmth, entertainment—everything was provided in abundance, without the need for barter, labor, or contribution.

The reason was simple: Riley was the absolute master of this world.

In this sanctuary, he wasn't just a ruler—he was the very fabric of reality.

With a mere thought, he could shape mountains, summon rivers, and construct entire cities made of crystal, jade, or gold.

He could create anything he imagined—whether mystical, technological, or otherwise.

This level of divine power shocked and awed the cultivators who had grown up believing that the heavens were supreme and the Dao was absolute.

But Riley? He casually rewrote the rules of existence.

"What is this thing? And why does it taste so good?" gasped one stunned cultivator, his mouth full of cheeseburger, the melted cheese dripping onto his robe.

"It's warm! The bread is soft and the meat… by the heavens, it's juicy!" another cried, holding up a milkshake and fries as though he had discovered a rare elixir.

"Wow! This machine is beyond extraordinary!" yelled a senior elder as he sank into a levitating massage chair that glowed faintly with runes of energy—though it ran entirely without spiritual stones or formations.

"How is this powered? Where's the spirit array? Where are the energy conduits?" asked a confused artifact refiner, who had spent decades mastering ancient mechanisms, only to be dumbfounded by the smooth hum of a holographic projector playing what Riley casually referred to as a 'movie.'

Riley had begun introducing various modern amenities from Earth, modified to exist within the laws of his sanctuary.

Things like hot showers, indoor plumbing, flush toilets, cold soda, snack machines, electric scooters, automatic doors, elevators, air conditioning, and even public transportation in the form of floating trains amazed the cultivators—many of whom still lived in wooden huts and used chamber pots.

The Void Sanctuary transformed into a strange fusion of futuristic technology and mystical beauty.

Grand cities with neon lights and spirit lanterns coexisted with floating pavilions and ancient temples.

Streets were lined with spiritual herb gardens on one side and ice cream stalls on the other.

Cultivators in flowing robes lined up in front of pizza parlors.

Sect leaders and patriarchs argued over how to work vending machines.

"Do you put the spirit coin in first or slap the screen?"

"I think the machine insulted me…"

"No, Senior Brother, it's called an 'error message.'"

It was chaos, but it was delightful chaos.

The initial shock and confusion quickly gave way to curiosity, then wonder, and finally addiction.

Cultivators who had once spent decades meditating in caves to comprehend the Dao were now setting up tournaments in VR gaming chambers and sipping bubble tea under glowing street lamps.

Though Riley found it amusing, a part of him was comforted.

These strange, Earth-born creations brought him a sense of familiarity in a world that had once felt so alien.

And if sharing them helped improve lives, then why not? He had the power—and for once, he chose to wield it in kindness.

And so, the Void Sanctuary became not just a refuge, but a paradise—a utopia where ancient cultivation met modern convenience, and the future was limited only by the imagination of its ruler.

While the multitudes within the Void Sanctuary continued to marvel at the Earth-like wonders Riley had so effortlessly conjured—from sparkling beverage machines to gravity-defying roller coasters—outside, in the open skies of the immortal realm, Riley moved with quiet purpose.

Beside him walked Ruby, her steps graceful, yet her eyes watchful.

He didn't need her guidance. That much was certain.

With the knowledge already engraved deep into his mind—gathered through his copy of Ruby's very own memories—Riley was well aware of the power structures, clan rivalries, ancient treaties, and hidden blood feuds that webbed across the immortal realm.

He understood the mechanisms of control that sects imposed on their disciples, the veiled hierarchies among the so-called righteous path, and even the whereabouts of long-lost artifacts that countless experts had spent lifetimes seeking. He knew it all.

And yet, Ruby still walked beside him.

Not out of necessity, but out of convenience—and, perhaps, out of a strange bond that had quietly grown between them.

"Are we going to the abode of the Ancient One, Young Master Riley?" Ruby asked softly, her voice like a warm breeze brushing over a still lake.

Her appearance had changed drastically.

Gone was the plain servant's dress she had once worn when bound to lesser stations.

In its place was a regal, fiery-red cultivator's gown embroidered with phoenix motifs and golden thread.

It hugged her form with elegance and unmistakable seduction.

Her black hair was pinned in a ceremonial knot, adorned with a glimmering jade crest—the symbol of her royal heritage.

She no longer hid who she was: a princess born of noble blood, once shackled by circumstance, now walking beside a man who defied the heavens.

Men would have killed each other for a glance at her. But Riley?

He didn't spare her so much as a passing look. His eyes remained fixed ahead, calm and indifferent.

Clothed in simple white robes that shimmered faintly only when the light hit them just right, Riley walked with the grace of a mortal yet radiated the pressure of a sovereign. There were no symbols of status on him, no artifacts, no ostentatious ornaments—nothing but the plain robes and a subtle aura of depth that made even the proudest immortals feel small in his presence.

"No," he replied, his voice as steady as still water. "There's no need to go there yet. Let's face your problem first. After that, we'll see."

His words struck Ruby like thunder wrapped in silk.

Her problem.

The one she had tried to bury beneath her years of service, her training, and her smile.

It was something she had feared confronting even with all the strength and prestige she now possessed.

And yet, hearing Riley speak of it—so simply, so effortlessly—made her feel light.

As though the burden didn't matter anymore. Not with him by her side.

A faint shiver of emotion passed through her, and she smiled. Truly smiled.

Without a word, she lifted her hand and waved it through the air.

With a soft pulse of spiritual energy, a massive flying boat materialized from thin air.

It hovered before them, nearly two hundred feet long, its sides forged from a crimson alloy that shimmered like liquid fire.

Glyphs of ancient power pulsed along its hull, and its deck gleamed like polished obsidian.

The figurehead was shaped like a dragon mid-roar, bound with chains of starlight—an unmistakable mark of her clan's lineage.

The sudden appearance of the vessel was a silent proclamation of her excitement—her eagerness to finally resolve what had been haunting her.

"Let me guide you to my home, Young Master Riley," she said, bowing low.