My Xianxia Harem Life

And that was merely the beginning of Riley and Veronica's long, unforgettable night together.

What had started with a fiery kiss had soon ignited into something far more intense—a night of passion that neither of them would forget.

Riley couldn't help but marvel at Veronica's beauty, her soft skin, her delicate curves, the way she responded to his every touch. He had never felt such desire so completely take over him, and with her beneath him, trembling with anticipation, he surrendered to it without restraint.

Their bodies moved in perfect rhythm, as if made for one another. He took her first slowly, savoring the feeling of her warmth wrapped around him.

Each motion drew a gasp, a moan, or a whispered plea from Veronica's lips, encouraging him to go deeper, harder.

When he shifted her position and entered her from behind, she shivered at the new sensation, biting her lip and arching back into him with eager acceptance.

Riley alternated between her slick heat and the tighter pressure of her rear, overwhelmed by the raw ecstasy of it all.

Every time he reached his peak, he filled her completely—hot, thick releases that left no part of her untouched.

He came inside her again and again, each time more intense than the last, and never once did she ask him to stop.

In fact, Veronica seemed insatiable, crying out as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her. She clung to him, nails raking down his back, begging for more even when her legs were trembling and her body was spent.

Hours passed in a haze of passion. They lost themselves in each other, their bodies glistening with sweat, sheets tangled beneath them.

Veronica came countless times, her moans turning into soft gasps, then breathless whimpers, until even that gave way to peaceful silence.

There was a glow on her flushed cheeks, her lips parted just slightly as she drifted into slumber, utterly fulfilled.

At last, Riley pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her, her back pressed to his chest. As sleep claimed them, Veronica wore a serene smile on her beautiful face—the kind of smile that came only after complete and utter satisfaction.

***

A few days later, the skies above the Austere Clan's territory were filled with activity. Countless flying boats—large and small—pierced the clouds like arrows, sailing gracefully through the air as they approached the once-isolated mountain stronghold.

Most bore the emblems of the Gray Clan, their arrival drawing attention and whispers from onlookers. But they weren't alone. Representatives from dozens of sects, clans, and factions across the continent arrived in waves, their banners fluttering in the wind and their faces smiling politely.

On the surface, they had come to offer congratulations to Riley for his astonishing takeover of the Austere Clan and to pay respects to a rising giant.

But beneath those carefully prepared smiles and respectful bows, hidden motives brewed.

Many among them were spies and scouts, sent to gather information on this mysterious young man and the terrifying power he wielded.

Who was he really? Where did he come from? What secrets did he and his people hide?

Still, in the eyes of the Gray Clan, it was a time of celebration.

"Look at you now, fools! You chose the wrong enemy!" one of the elders of the Gray Clan sneered, watching the arrival of once-arrogant neighbors now groveling to make amends.

"Hahaha! Yes, our clan will no longer shut its doors to the world. The time of hiding and fearing others is over!" another elder declared proudly.

"Let them try to oppress us again," a younger disciple said with a grin. "I'll make sure Senior Riley hears about it—and then he'll show up and wipe the floor with them. He already killed five peak Void Tribulation experts like it was nothing!"

Their confidence was sky-high, even though, in truth, they had done nothing but stand on the sidelines. Still, they basked in Riley's glow, treating his victory as their own.

After all, hadn't they allied with him before he crushed the Austere Clan? In a world where strength ruled above all, proximity to power was often good enough.

Since Riley's ascension, the entire region had undergone a shift. The Gray Clan, which had long lived cautiously under the shadow of more powerful neighbors, was now being treated with respect—if not outright deference.

Gifts, messages of goodwill, and formal alliances were pouring in, all in hopes of avoiding offense or, better yet, winning favor.

For the wider cultivation world, Riley's name was now etched in legend. No one had ever seen or heard of a single individual defeating five peak Void Tribulation realm experts with a single move.

Fights at that level were supposed to be world-shaking, drawn-out affairs filled with dazzling techniques and life-or-death exchanges.

But Riley had ended it all in a matter of breaths. One strike—five corpses. No wasted effort. No second chances.

Even those with centuries of experience, the so-called "old fogeys" of the continent, could not explain it. They had gathered to discuss, to speculate, to argue and hypothesize.

"Is he... invincible within the Void Tribulation realm?" some muttered under their breath, unwilling to say it aloud but unable to dismiss the idea.

There was no definitive proof, but all the reports painted the same terrifying picture. Riley hadn't even used a full sequence of moves—he had made just one attack, and it had been more than enough to erase the five strongest cultivators of the Austere Clan.

The fear spread quickly. Sect leaders warned their disciples not to provoke the Austere Clan, not to offend anyone remotely connected to the Gray Clan. Rumors grew wilder by the day.

Some said Riley was a reincarnated Immortal Emperor. Others claimed he had uncovered an ancient inheritance, or perhaps formed a pact with a forbidden entity. No one knew the truth—but everyone agreed on one thing:

A storm had arrived on the continent, and its name was Riley.

With Riley's rise to prominence and the dramatic changes surrounding the Austere Clan, a wave of hopeful visitors arrived at its gates. Many were cultivators from lesser clans and sects, drawn by both curiosity and ambition. Word had already spread: Riley, the man who had slain five peak Void Tribulation experts with a single move, was not only powerful but also surrounded by a number of breathtakingly beautiful women—wives, companions, and confidantes.

Some came hoping for an alliance. Others came dreaming of something far more personal. To be chosen by such a man—even just to catch his eye—was a fantasy too enticing for many to ignore.

After all, cultivators of Riley's caliber were rare, and those at the peak of the Void Tribulation realm rarely revealed themselves to the world, let alone mingled with outsiders.

Among the new arrivals was a pair that stood out from the rest—not because of loud declarations or lavish gifts, but because of their beauty and the quiet confidence in their steps.

"Why are we even here, Clara?" a striking young woman muttered, crossing her arms with a small pout. This was Thea—elegant and athletic, with eyes sharp as blades and a presence that demanded attention wherever she went.

Clara, walking beside her, gave her best friend a knowing smile. "We're here to see my sister, of course. I want to talk to her and ask her a few things. Aren't you curious about what she's been through? What she knows now?"

Thea raised a brow, unconvinced. "You haven't seen Veronica in forever. Now suddenly you're interested in her life? Does she even know you at all?"

Clara chuckled softly. What she said was only half true. Yes, she was curious about her sister—though they shared little beyond blood. Clara was only twenty-five, a blossoming talent in her own right.

Veronica, on the other hand, was over four hundred years old, a seasoned cultivator, and now one of Riley's closest companions.

The age gap between them was vast, and their lives had always been on different paths.

But that wasn't the real reason Clara had come.

No… what had drawn her here was Riley himself.

She had seen him once—just once, from afar, during the aftermath of his battle with the Austere Clan's elders. He hadn't noticed her, but she had seen enough to haunt her ever since.

His calm, confident gaze. The way his very presence seemed to bend the air. And when she accidentally glimpsed more than she was meant to… that image had followed her into her dreams night after night, awakening in her desires she hadn't known she carried.

She couldn't forget him. And she didn't want to.

"Well, if you say so," Thea sighed, stretching her arms over her head. "Maybe we can do some sparring while we're here. Just ask your sister to lend us a private courtyard. I need to train. My blade's been getting restless."

Clara nodded. "Of course. I'm sure we'll get one. Besides, I think Veronica will be happy to see me—eventually." She smiled to herself, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

The two continued deeper into the sprawling grounds of the Austere Clan, unaware that fate had already begun to stir again.

Whatever their reasons for coming—curiosity, ambition, or desire—neither of them would leave unchanged.