My Xianxia Harem Life

When the day arrived, he invited them all without explanation. His ten women gathered in the hall, exchanging curious glances, unsure of what was happening.

Each of them was dressed elegantly, their beauty almost surreal under the soft lantern glow. The room sparkled with enchantments, its air filled with the sweet scent of plum blossoms and warm incense.

Then Riley stepped forward, dressed in formal robes of deep sapphire embroidered with gold, his presence calm, steady, and overflowing with affection.

His gaze swept across each of them—eyes he had fallen in love with, hearts he had come to understand—and in that moment, he spoke the words he had held in for so long.

"Will you all marry me?"

The silence that followed was charged, like the hush before a storm. For a heartbeat, none of them moved—eyes wide, lips parted, stunned into stillness by the sudden weight of his words.

Then came the explosion.

"Yes!"

Their voices rose together like songbirds in spring. The moment shattered into laughter, tears, and a flood of movement as all ten women rushed toward him, arms open, hearts full. They embraced him all at once, a whirlwind of silk, perfume, and emotion. Some cried freely. Others just held him tightly, unwilling to let go.

They had waited too. Quietly. Patiently. Never pressuring, never demanding—but always hoping that one day he would make the choice.

That day had finally come.

In that moment, Riley felt something shift inside him. It wasn't just happiness—it was a sense of completion, as if this world had finally accepted him, and he had fully accepted it in return.

"BEEEEEEEEEEE!"

And of course, Fluffy joined in. The orange puffball of joy spun in circles, leaping up and down in delight, its high-pitched squeals echoing through the hall as if it, too, understood the significance of the day.

Even the clouds outside the window seemed to drift a little lighter, as if the world itself was celebrating.

The days that followed were filled with joyful chaos.

News of the marriage spread like wildfire throughout the sect. The disciple halls buzzed with gossip and admiration. Elders nodded with quiet approval. Disciples whispered that Elder Riley, the great hero of the Stone Mountain Sect, had finally done something ordinary—and in doing so, made it extraordinary.

The wedding celebration stretched on for weeks, filled with banquets, dances, fireworks, and ceremonies. It wasn't just a union—it was a festival, a symbol of love and loyalty, strength and serenity.

And for Riley, it was a new beginning. Not of a battle or cultivation breakthrough, but of something far more precious:

A life truly shared.

***

A few months into the marriage, a quiet shift began to settle among the ten women who now shared their lives under the same roof as Riley.

At first, everything had been new—awkward, exciting, overwhelming. Some of them had never imagined being in a polygamous union, while others accepted it more easily.

But time had a way of easing tension, of softening the edges between strangers, and slowly, the women grew closer.

One warm afternoon, while Riley was out fishing by the river—a hobby he never gave up no matter how full his home became—the wives gathered quietly in one of the side rooms, away from the servants and the curious eyes of passersby.

The atmosphere was charged with uncertainty and a touch of nervous excitement.

"Don't you all think it's time we did something special for our husband?" one of them asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

The others turned to look at her.

"What do you mean?" another asked, her tone cautious.

The first woman hesitated, then leaned in. "I mean… it's clear he's been trying to hide it, but I can tell. He wants to be close with all of us. Together."

There was a pause. A long one.

"…You mean, all at the same time?" a third finally said, eyes wide.

"Well, yes. We are his wives. Isn't it natural to… show our affection together?"

Another silence. Some looked thoughtful, others uncertain. A few cheeks turned red.

One of the younger wives bit her lip and gave a shy nod. "I've… noticed too. Sometimes he holds back with me. Like he's waiting."

But not everyone was convinced. A woman sitting near the window said nothing. Her eyes were lowered, her hands fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve.

She didn't speak—not because she had nothing to say, but because she wasn't sure how to say it. This wasn't something she had ever imagined. The idea of sharing such a private moment, even with her sisters-in-marriage, made her deeply uncomfortable.

"I don't know…" another murmured, voicing the unspoken thought in the room. "It just feels… strange. Intimate. Too intimate."

"I get it," someone else said gently. "But think about Riley. He's been nothing but patient. Kind. He's never rushed any of us. He loves us. And maybe this is just another way to give that love back."

The eldest among them, a calm and thoughtful woman who often helped settle disputes, finally spoke up.

"We've all chosen to be here. And we've all seen how much he cares for each of us—equally, without favoritism. If this is something he's wanted, and we can give it to him as a gift… maybe it's worth considering."

She looked around the room, her eyes soft. "Let's do it. Not because we have to. But because we want to. For Riley."

One by one, they nodded. Even the woman by the window eventually gave a small, quiet sigh. She still wasn't sure, but she trusted the others. And maybe… maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Not with them.

"For Riley," they echoed, their voices blending together like a promise.

That night, as the sky dimmed and the warm orange glow of lanterns filled the house, Riley returned home. He carried a basket of freshly caught fish and a relaxed smile, but that smile faltered when he stepped inside and saw what was waiting for him.

All ten of his wives stood together in the same room. That part didn't surprise him—they often spent time together now.

But what caught him off guard, what left him blinking in stunned silence, was that they were all dressed in sheer, flowing robes—or in some cases, nothing at all. And they were smiling. Nervous, but genuine.

"Uh… is it my birthday?" Riley blurted out before he could stop himself.

A few of the women giggled.

The eldest stepped forward and took his hand. "No. It's not your birthday. It's just… a night for you. For us. Together."

"We highly doubt that that would happen, dear. Perhaps the opposite is true." Veronica said smiling.

Riley blinked, then looked around at each of their faces. The honesty. The affection. The willingness.

His heart swelled.

He set the basket down gently and smiled—a wide, grateful, loving smile. "You girls are going to kill me."

They laughed, easing the tension in the air. Whatever awkwardness might have existed before was drowned in the warmth of shared purpose and love.

And so, the night unfolded—not just with passion, but with laughter, affection, and a depth of connection that none of them had expected.

For the first time, Riley didn't feel like a man juggling many hearts. He felt like a husband—one heart, shared among many, and held in careful, devoted hands.

The days blurred into nights, and the nights back into days, as the house fell into a rhythm entirely different from the outside world.

For seven days and seven nights, Riley and his ten wives surrendered themselves to each other, exploring a connection that was both physical and deeply emotional.

It wasn't just lust. It was laughter between kisses, shared meals eaten in tangled bedsheets, whispered words in the dark, and the kind of unspoken trust that only comes when barriers are broken down entirely.

Some moments were wild and intense; others were gentle and slow, like the turning of a page in a treasured book.

Each of the wives brought something different to the experience—shyness that bloomed into boldness, playfulness that turned tender, fierce passion laced with love.

And Riley, to his own surprise, gave all of himself to each of them, again and again, never playing favorites, never rushing, always present. It was as if his heart had grown tenfold to match the love being poured into him.

By the seventh night, the entire household was in a haze of warmth and exhaustion. The once-neat bedding was a mess of sheets and tangled limbs. The windows were fogged, the air heavy with the scent of intimacy and shared joy.

Now, as dawn crept through the curtains on the eighth morning, Riley lay flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling with the dopiest grin imaginable stretched across his face.

Around him, the women were sprawled in various states of peaceful slumber. Some clung to his arms or legs, others curled beside him or half-draped across each other. All of them looked happy. Glowing, really.

He let out a long, slow breath and rested one hand behind his head.

"That was… beyond anything I ever imagined," he whispered to no one in particular, careful not to wake them.

He tilted his head to the side and gazed at their sleeping faces. How did he get this lucky? How had his life turned into something so completely, unbelievably blissful?

"I guess this is heaven," he murmured, chuckling to himself.

A quiet moment passed. Then, with a little mischievous twinkle in his eyes, he smirked and added, "Mmm… I could definitely do this again. Maybe even make it a daily routine. Hehehe."

He closed his eyes, letting the warmth of the moment wrap around him like a blanket. There was something comforting in the silence—soft breathing, the occasional contented sigh, the faint rustle of sheets. This wasn't just indulgence anymore. It was connection, fulfillment… maybe even true love.

Riley allowed himself to sleep with a big smile on his face.