Chapter 1: A Lazy Cat Will Become a Woman's Plaything
Jiang Li bid farewell to his third senior sister of the month.
Though both knew that after this parting, they'd likely be strangers if they met again, she still gave him a warm embrace before leaving. Leaning close, she whispered in his ear, "I don't blame you, junior brother. After I'm gone, don't go charming other sisters or juniors. If you don't start practicing your swordsmanship seriously, Hidden Sword Peak might just kick you out."
Her figure was graceful and curvaceous, her hug comforting. Jiang Li gave a soft hum, released her, and watched as she left his small cabin. He waved at her retreating back, sighed lightly, and returned inside.
Last night, she had stayed over, but nothing scandalous happened. They simply lay on his soft bed, gazing at the stars through the window, chatting half the night. She hugged him and fell asleep peacefully. At dawn, Jiang Li woke early, cooked her a bowl of noodles, and gently reminded her, "Senior sister, our agreed time is up."
The "agreed time" meant the end of their ambiguous fling. Thankfully, her kind and generous nature spared them any drama or resentment. Perhaps there was a touch of reluctance, hence the final embrace.
Back at his desk, Jiang Li opened his notebook and flipped to her page, detailing her hobbies, cultivation habits, favorite colors, food preferences, goals, dreams, and ideal partner—everything meticulously recorded. But now, he tore it out, crumpled it, and tossed it into the trash.
Indeed, senior sisters were better for "wool-gathering." Junior sisters would likely cling to him, crying and tugging at his sleeves, unwilling to leave. Maintaining his gentle, approachable persona, he couldn't just coldly tell them to get lost—he'd have to coax them patiently, which was exasperatingly troublesome.
"Ability copied via embrace: Painting."
"Since host's painting skill is already maxed, this copied ability will be converted to experience points and stored as an experience scroll in the host's inventory. Please check it."
Jiang Li sighed faintly, shaking his head.
He'd hoped to copy—not steal, copy—her exquisite Snowstep Technique. But his lousy system could only randomly select skills to replicate, so his eight days of effort went to waste.
Standing, he glanced at the morning light outside, stretched lazily, and picked up his notebook again.
This notebook was his treasure, compiled over nearly a year with details on 142 beautiful sisters of the Xuantian Daoji Sect. Ninety-nine pages had been torn out, leaving forty-three.
With so many women, the notebook ensured he wouldn't forget anyone.
The road is long, but progress comes with effort.
He flipped through it randomly, searching for his next target.
Jiang Li, a disciple of Hidden Sword Peak, one of the five inner peaks of Xuantian Daoji Sect, ranked thirty-seventh in the peak's competition three months ago.
Today marked his twentieth year since transmigrating to this world. In his past life, he racked up too many emotional debts, got stabbed three times, and died despite attempts to save him. Reflecting on it, he figured it was a fitting end.
After all, scumbags deserve to die.
But his story didn't end there—he arrived in the Canglan Domain.
At six, during a famine, he was spotted by an elder of Xuantian Daoji Sect scouting for talents and brought to the sect. Blessed with an Innate Sword Body, he joined the inner sect at ten as a Hidden Sword Peak disciple.
His rare physique once hinted at his potential to become the peak's heir, but his recent years disappointed every elder who'd pinned hopes on him, leaving them gnashing their teeth in frustration.
It wasn't that his cultivation faltered.
To outsiders, four years ago, after confessing to one of the sect's two fairy-like beauties and being coldly rejected, he spiraled. No longer focused on cultivation, he began flirting his way through the sect, charming countless girls, a fallen playboy wounded by love.
Yet, oddly, none of the girls he wooed held grudges. Their time together, though brief, was always sweet—good beginnings, good endings. Jiang Li kept boundaries, never going beyond a kiss on the cheek, no matter how far a girl might tempt him.
It was a matter of principle.
In his last life, those three fatal stabs—each drawing blood, each piercing deep—taught him a lesson. He hadn't expected that girl to have such strength, delivering a true "three knives, six holes."
He deserved it, though.
He'd once told her, "If I ever cheat, stab me three times—I won't dodge." But when the first knife struck, he was already sobbing, begging for mercy. By the third, he was barely breathing, his soul slipping away.
His old motto was, "I'll live better in my next life."
Now, with a second chance, he intended to make good on it.
Flipping through his notebook, Jiang Li settled on a page.
The girl was youthful, just eighteen, named Bai Sheng, with late Foundation Establishment cultivation. Her name was lovely.
He studied her details, gathered from various sisters. Gentle and somewhat submissive, she loved small animals. He vaguely recalled a senior sister warning, "You little menace, don't go after Bai Sheng. She's young, and if she falls for you and you abandon her, how will you handle the mess?"
He glanced at her portrait, one he'd drawn himself—his painting skill long maxed. The realistic style captured her features perfectly. Propping his chin, he studied it for seconds, mentally scoffing at the senior sister's words.
In the portrait, Bai Sheng wore an autumn skirt, its plain white fabric failing to hide her pronounced curves. Small? Hardly! That senior sister was talking nonsense!
Perhaps her slender waist made her chest's fullness stand out even more.
He continued reading. Bai Sheng was introverted, born with a Calamity Dao Body, suffering monthly spiritual energy torment. Rumor had it those near her long enough faced misfortune, though it was unverified hearsay.
As a result, she had few friends—only one, in fact. When Jiang Li saw that friend's name, his pupils narrowed slightly.
Then he smiled.
Her only friend was Mu Bingning.
Four years ago, he pursued Mu Bingning for a month, confessing under blooming peach blossoms. She raised a hand, and the petals fell in a shower.
"You're not worthy of being my partner," she'd said.
A rejection was fine, but why the humiliation?
And that disdainful, disgusted look she gave him!
As the sect leader's sole disciple, already at late Foundation Establishment back then—likely Golden Core or even Nascent Soul now—he couldn't retaliate and left dejectedly.
To others, that rejection marked the start of his "heartbroken" descent into debauchery.
He'd wanted to deny it but ultimately let the narrative stand.
The "wounded by love" persona wasn't bad. Many sisters and juniors were jealous of Mu Bingning, and his "failure" with her earned their sympathy. They'd privately curse her cold, haughty demeanor, calling her an ice queen who seemed untouchable but who knew what she was like behind closed doors?
Jiang Li joined in, bonding with them over shared resentment.
He owed Mu Bingning for that, in a way.
He wasn't sure if he loved or hated her now, but seeing Bai Sheng as her only friend sparked a mischievous urge.
Steal her best friend, isolate her. Let her remain the untouchable ice fairy, cold and aloof.
He began drafting a plan to woo Bai Sheng.
Pursuing Bai Sheng had a purpose. Despite her Calamity Dao Body, she was a peerless swordsmanship genius. He might not copy her sword skills, but converting what he did copy into experience scrolls would still be a hefty reward.
All thanks to his lousy system.
But that weak, improper system wasn't worth mentioning now.
"Loves small animals…" Jiang Li muttered.
He whistled, and a chubby silver cat dashed in, leaping into his arms, staring eagerly.
Jiang Li pulled a dried fish from his system inventory, fed it to the cat, and smiled as it licked his palm.
This cat, Big White, had been with him three years—a rare reward from completing his system's "embrace fifty A-grade targets" task. Supposedly bearing ancient divine beast blood, it could one day devour heavens and earth.
But… it was just a silver tabby!
He'd raised one in his last life—don't try to fool him!
Rubbing Big White's head, he whispered, "Fish is done. Time to work."
Big White flopped onto him, as if its soul had been drained, refusing to budge.
No surprise—countless sisters adored cats, and for the past year, Big White had been their plaything.