In the heart of Daxia, atop a sky-piercing peak.

"Old man! When the hell are you letting me leave?"

Patsy Carter slumped down, staring at the white-haired elder sitting by the cliff, who looked like he’d walked out of a painting.

"You dead or what? Say something!" Patsy snapped.

The white-haired elder opened his eyes slowly, scowling. "Ungrateful brat! I taught you everything I know, and you can’t even call me Master?"

"I didn’t beg you to teach me!" Patsy shot back, voice rising. "You’ve wasted four years of my college life up here. Do you know how many senior girls, freshmen girls, even junior boys cried over me being gone?"

"Boys too? So you swing both ways now?" The elder raised an eyebrow, genuinely intrigued.

"Slip of the tongue! Slip of the tongue!" Patsy grinned awkwardly. No way was he into guys.

"You’ve been whining to leave all this time. Go ahead—today’s the day," said the elder flatly.

"What?!" Patsy froze. Four years trapped on this damned mountain since he fell off that cliff, and now, just like that, he could leave?

Truth was, Patsy had a rough life. Abandoned at birth, raised in an orphanage. He only got into school thanks to kind strangers helping him out. Bright and hardworking, he finally earned his way into a decent university.

During a break, he'd climbed the mountain to gather rare herbs for some cash. Slipped while getting a plant by the cliff. Thought he was a goner—until the white-haired man saved him.

The old man had told him once: Patsy's parents weren’t dead. Far from it, they were alive, but had to abandon him for reasons they couldn’t control.

Patsy had hated them at first.

But hearing how his parents were imprisoned somewhere, tortured every day, suffering worse than him—that hatred had slowly thawed.

He'd demanded to know where they were, but the elder had just said it wasn’t time. When the time came, the truth would reveal itself.

Left with no choice, Patsy learned to let go. He believed one day, everything would come to light.

Now, hearing he could finally leave the mountain, Patsy didn’t even hesitate. He turned and began to walk.

"Alright then, I’m off!" he shouted, waving.

"Hold up!" the elder suddenly called out.

Patsy turned sharply. "Knew it! You were messing with me again!"

"Before you go, I’ve got a gift for you," the elder said with a slight smile.

"A gift? What, like a bottomless black card I can spend however I want?" Patsy’s eyes lit up.

"Do I look like a rich man weighted down with gold?" the elder scoffed, brushing his sleeve with disdain.

"Then what is it, old man?" Patsy asked, stepping closer.Patsy Carter looked at him with clear disdain. "Bragging like that when you're broke?"

The white-haired old man grinned. "How about I give you seven wives?"

"Seven wives? Seriously?"

Patsy’s eyes lit up, but just as quickly they narrowed in doubt.

"Hmph, you don’t trust me, do you?" The old man feigned offense.

"I do! Of course I do!" Patsy forced a grin, though in his heart he muttered, Yeah, I’ll trust you when pigs fly.

These four years of training under this old fox had dumped him into more pits than he could count.

"Fifty years ago, I helped seven minor families climb out of ruin. Now they’re part of Daxia’s top clans. Back then, each patriarch promised to marry off their descendants to my disciple."

The old man pulled out seven yellowed contracts from his sleeve. They looked ancient.

"I was planning to burn them, but lucky you came along."

"You sly old man," Patsy groaned. "If they’re from back then, their daughters must be pushing fifty. I mean, rich older women are fine, but come on—that’s too much!"

The old man chuckled. "I didn’t say daughters. I meant granddaughters. I’ve checked—your seven fiancées are all beauties. Great bodies too."

"Granddaughters?" Patsy scratched his head, a crooked smile spreading across his face. "Now that’s more like it."

"You can pick just one or go after all seven. That’s up to you. But hear me—no forcing anyone."

The old man’s expression turned mischievous. "And with your Unyielding Golden Body, I doubt you’ll have any trouble keeping up."

"Kids pick one. I want them all!" Patsy smirked. As for forcing? He wasn’t that kind of beast.

"These clans are almost out of luck. If they honor the old promise, help them with your skills. If not, let them rot," the old man added.

"Got it," Patsy said, chest puffed.

"Here, take these seven contracts." The old man slipped off a carved dragon ring. "And this—Canglong Ring. It holds rare items I’ve gathered. You’ll need them."

Holding the aged paper and the heavy ring, Patsy felt a twist of emotions. The old man had even given up his most precious spatial ring.

"Start with the Lawrence family," the old man said.

"Sure thing. I’m off then. Take care, old man." Patsy turned to leave.

"One more thing," the old man said again.

"What now? You could just say everything in one go!"

As soon as the words left him, Patsy felt his whole body rise off the ground.

"I’ll give you my cultivation too!"

The old man appeared before him, pressing a palm to his crown and lifting him mid-air.

"Hey, old man, stop! I don’t want your power! You’ll die from this!" Patsy fought back, panic in his voice.Patsy Carter knew too well what it meant—the old man giving up his cultivation.

“I've reached the fifth decline of a Celestial. Today’s the day I fade away. Letting Heaven have my powers is a joke—I’d rather pass it on to you, boy!”

The white-haired elder didn’t stop. With a firm hand pressed to Patsy’s head, he poured the last of his power straight into him.

“You stubborn old man!” Patsy roared. Strength surged through him, but there was no joy in his eyes.

“Listen, boy… you're not just going down the mountain to marry someone… there's something even bigger...”

“The Nine Cauldrons of Daxia will return. Each holds the lifeblood of this land. Foreign rats can’t get their hands on them. You must gather all nine… Daxia’s future depends on it.”

“Go now… and remember—if Daxia faces ruin someday… you must give it everything you’ve got.”

The elder's voice grew faint... choppy, like wind over a dying fire.

“Master, leave it to me! If that day comes, I’ll stake everything I am to protect Daxia!”

Patsy clenched his fists, knowing nothing he did now could change what was happening. He knelt down hard and gave three solemn kowtows.

The old man looked at him one last time, that ever-faint smile hanging on his lips, then slowly closed his eyes.

Staring at his master's peaceful face, Patsy’s heart twisted in grief—but he knew, the burden now lay on his shoulders.

He stood, buried his master in the serene land they’d called home, then turned to leave the mountain without looking back.

Just after he left, the grave trembled. A weathered hand poked up from the soil.

…

Qingnan City. A lone figure landed quietly.

It was summer. People on the streets wore light clothes, legs bare beneath thin layers of stockings, a dazzling sight.

“Damn, being down the mountain sure beats squatting up there for four years…”

Patsy’s eyes stayed glued ahead, throat dry, muttering to himself, “Those legs… That's just unfair!”

After four years of staring at rocks and trees, even a sow would look like a goddess.

“Master said Daxia might face disaster… but it sure doesn’t look like it now.”

The city thrived, full of life. Nothing screamed danger.

With no clue on the Cauldrons or his bloodline, Patsy turned to the other task—marrying into the Lawrence family.

“So Master wants me to marry a Lawrence girl. I gotta see what she’s like. If she looks anything like a ‘blossoming flower’… I might be in trouble.”

He wasn’t going to accept just anyone. If she was too damn ugly, the deal was off.

He had seven fiancées. No way all seven looked bad, right?

He soon reached the Lawrence villa—only to see it surrounded by a gang of thugs with sticks.

Wreaths lined the gate, white banners fluttering. Someone had died.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me. What luck.”

He sighed. He was just here to meet the girl and talk marriage. Didn’t expect to stumble into a funeral.

“Well, since I’m already here… might as well crash the dinner.”