“Mmm, a bit harder… right there… ahh…”

The voice coming from the mud-brick house was... suggestive, to say the least.

Inside, lying face down on an old wooden bed, was a stunningly beautiful woman. Her black hair draped loosely over the pillow, eyes half-closed, lips slightly parted, with a relaxed, lazy expression that made her seem even more seductive.

Next to her, a handsome young man—maybe around twenty—was blushing furiously as he massaged her back.

“Well, well, your hands are getting better. Come on, tell me the truth—have you been sneaking off to give massages to other girls in the village behind my back and your first Mistress's?”

Fiona Bennett lifted her head slightly, giving Ryan Fields a look that carried both amusement and teasing.

“I wouldn't dare, Second Mistress!”

Ryan gave an awkward chuckle and was just about to explain when a sharp pain shot up from his thigh.

He looked down—Fiona’s slender fingers had grabbed a handful of flesh on his leg... and were slowly creeping higher.

“Ahh!”

Ryan nearly jumped. Her hand had gone right for the most sensitive spot. With his face blazing red, he blurted out, “Okay, okay! I’ll talk! Just the Widow Wang, Little Ying, and Xiao Cui! That’s it! You’re the one who always says we should be kind and generous, right? They’re all pretty weak, so I help them with bone-setting massages, bring their energy into balance… that’s all, I swear!”

“Little liar! Still trying to fool me?”

Fiona playfully glared at him, then pulled her hand back and stretched lazily on the bed. That stretch, though—wow. Her body curved like a bowstring, from head to those crystal-clear curled toes, and with the soft hum she made, Ryan honestly forgot to breathe for a second.

“Hey, kid—your acceptance letter is here.”

Just as Ryan was zoning out again, the door creaked open. Another beauty stepped inside at an unhurried pace—every bit as breathtaking as Fiona, but in a completely different way. Dressed plainly in a rough linen outfit, no makeup, yet she still looked like she belonged in a painting. Serene and pure. Like a lotus blooming untouched in the mud.

This was Clara Wood, Ryan’s first Mistress, barely hitting thirty. Her calm elegance made her unforgettable.

She cast a glance at Fiona, still half-lying on the bed, then at Ryan, clearly used to their antics.

“Which school is this kid going to?” Fiona asked before Ryan could say anything. She had sat up and started to put on her blue robe, eyes curiously drifting to Clara.

“Dongling University,” Clara replied as she took a seat on the bed.

“Oh, that's pretty close! Still in Jiangzhou!”

Fiona’s lips curved up into a smirk as she turned to look at Ryan with that same teasing sparkle. “Looks like I’ll be dropping by to check on you often, little troublemaker...”

Ryan rolled his eyes at that. Some things never changed. He’d probably still be on the receiving end of their pranks even in the big city.

Clara gently smiled and said, “Alright, that’s enough teasing. He’s not just going there to study, you know.”Clara Wood paused for a moment, then turned to Ryan Fields. “Years ago, I arranged a marriage for you in Dongling. Since you're heading there now, it’d be a good chance to meet the girl.”

“Wait… a marriage?” Ryan was stunned. He had never heard anything like that before.

Clara nodded with a gentle smile. “I saved someone important in their family. They insisted on the engagement. If she turns out fine, don’t let her down. Also, your Ninth Mistress is in Dongling too.”

“Ninth Mistress is there too?!” Ryan’s eyes lit up instantly.

Aside from his First and Second Mistresses, he hadn’t met the other seven. But Clara and Fiona Bennett often talked about them—each more stunning than the last.

Rumor had it the Ninth Mistress ruled the business world with billions under her name. The Eighth had become a top-tier celebrity. The Seventh, young yet already the chief of the national special ops. The Sixth was known as a genius professor.

The Fifth was said to have noble blood, a royal descendant even—but information about her was scarce.

As for the Third and Fourth Mistresses, Ryan had never even heard any details—they were complete mysteries.

The thought got him genuinely excited.

Clara saw that sparkle in his eyes and casually tossed him the admission letter. Leaning against the bedframe, she said, “Then you’re leaving tomorrow. The sooner, the better, before you stir up more trouble with the village girls.”

“So sudden…” Ryan looked at Clara’s beautiful face, a little reluctant.

“Aw, don’t tell me you’re gonna miss us?” Fiona teased with a knowing smile.

“Guess I am, kinda,” Ryan replied with a goofy grin.

“Total lie,” Fiona snorted, rolling her eyes. Then her expression shifted slightly. “Anyway, go get that herbal bath ready. Since you’re leaving, might as well take good care of us tonight…”

“On it!” Ryan gave a thumbs-up and dashed out the door. Sure, his Mistresses always stayed clothed during baths, but the occasional glimpse under the steam still made his heart race.

Back in the room, Fiona watched him leave and leaned on the chair, sighing. “Clara, this little rascal’s actually leaving tomorrow. Hate to admit it…I’ll miss the brat.”

She exhaled softly before continuing, “Think he’s ready to face all those women out there? What if he turns into a walking disaster zone? Honestly, the nine of us must’ve done something in our past lives. And now—all of us ended up falling for…”

She didn’t finish.

Ryan’s journey was just beginning, but their fates had been sealed long ago. That punk might be their destined troublemaker.

As night fell, the spacious side room filled with warm, white steam.

With a towel draped around his shoulders and a wide grin on his face, Ryan buzzed around happily—sometimes scrubbing Clara’s back, sometimes massaging Fiona’s shoulders.

The kid was clearly in heaven.

But just when they thought the night had winded down…Ryan Fields was wiping the water droplets off Fiona Bennett’s arm, fingertips grazing her smooth skin, when a lazy voice teased near his ear, “Ryan, who do you think has the better figure—me or your First Mistress?”

“Pretty even, I’d say. You’re petite, but seriously curvy, Second Mistress. I used to love sleeping next to you when I was little—it was so comfy. Except you bullied me all the time, and that sucked.

First Mistress is tall and has that slim waist and hips—her proportions are perfect. Shame she never let me sleep next to her though… that’s not cool either.”

The words slipped out before he even thought about it.

The second he finished, he froze. Two intense glares locked onto him like sharp blades.

Ryan shivered, dropped the towel, and made a run for it.

He barely took a step before a gust slammed into his back—he didn’t even get to react before pain shot through him and he crashed to the ground.

The room burst into chaos with Ryan wailing dramatically, like he was rehearsing for a soap opera.

He knew his odds—ten of him together weren’t even close to being a match for these two scary strong women. There was no dodging the beating.

Only after half an hour of “discipline” did the mistresses finally let him off and float away.

Ryan lay there on the floor, close to tears.

The next morning, they kicked him out bright and early.

Staring at the shut door, his face looked gloomy, but his eyes sparkled with excitement.

“Finally heading beyond Taiping Town… time to meet the girls of Dongling. Get ready, ‘cause here I come!”

He yelled in his heart.

Not too far away, standing atop a hill near the village entrance, Clara Wood and Fiona Bennett both quietly watched the boy’s figure grow smaller in the distance.

“There goes the rascal,” Fiona murmured.

“A dragon plunges into the sea,” Clara replied softly. “Who knows how big a wave he’ll stir? Let’s send the news to the capital.”

She gazed at the wide world ahead, her clear eyes shining with a powerful light.

…

Two days later.

Ryan dragged his tired body up the last mountain. One more step, and he’d see Dongling.

If he hadn’t left home broke, who’d choose mountain trails over a carriage?

Biting fiercely into a wild fruit he’d found, he pushed himself uphill. But halfway up, a rustling sound came from the dense woods.

Ryan tensed, turning instinctively—and out stepped a beautiful woman.

She had a clean ponytail, a delicate, heart-shaped face, and eyes as vivid as a painting. Her lips were a soft red, her figure alluring, striking just the right balance of charm and elegance.

She clutched a herb in her hand, her steps unsteady, like she’d collapse at any second.

Seeing this, Ryan rushed over and grabbed her arm to steady her.

The woman looked up, her eyes full of unspoken emotion, cheeks flushed, a flicker of desperation in her gaze.

“Please… help me…”