©Novel Buddy
My Xianxia Harem Life-Chapter 220 Monarchy
Chapter 220: Chapter 220 Monarchy
Riley was off doing his usual thing—enjoying life to the fullest.
Today’s adventure?
A quiet day of fishing with his ever-loyal companion, Fluffy. His cute pet was excited as always.
The sun shone gently through the scattered clouds above, casting glimmering reflections on the rippling surface of the river.
A cool breeze rustled the tall grass along the bank, and the occasional buzz of dragonflies filled the air.
Life, at that moment, truly was good. Riley could really not ask for more. He got everything he wanted from life.
"Beeeeeee!" Fluffy squealed in excitement, hopping up and down as a new fish tugged on the line.
His stubby little arms flailed with joy, eyes wide with innocent glee. It was clear that the cute fellow was salivating looking at their catch.
"Settle down, little fellow," Riley said with a laugh, gently patting the creature’s soft, round head.
"We’ll get these fish cooked and stuff our bellies soon enough." Riley reassured his cute pet.
With practiced ease, Riley reeled in the line, his fingers moving fluidly.
A large, silver-scaled fish broke the surface in a splash and thrashed in the air before landing in the wooden bucket with a satisfying thud.
The two exchanged a quick, triumphant glance—no words needed.
They made a good team. Fluffy and him.
They had chosen a quiet spot by the river, nestled just a short distance from the Austere Clan’s territory.
Though well within safe borders, the place felt like its own hidden sanctuary, surrounded by willows that dipped their slender limbs into the water and birdsong echoing through the trees.
It was the kind of peaceful isolation that was hard to come by in a world so full of noise and duty.
Technically, they didn’t have to be out here at all.
The Austere Clan had no shortage of food—storehouses filled with grains, meats, fruits, and every delicacy one could think of.
But to Riley, there was something deeply satisfying, even grounding, about catching his own food.
There was a kind of intimacy to it—a quiet ritual that reminded him of who he was before the luxuries, before the titles and expectations.
To catch your own fish, prepare it over an open flame, and eat it under the open sky was an experience no feast in a grand hall could ever replicate.
"Remember that time we caught nothing for hours, and then you scared off the fish by falling in the water?" Riley teased, tossing a playful glance at Fluffy.
"Beeee!" Fluffy protested, puffing out his cheeks indignantly before crossing his stubby arms and turning away with exaggerated drama.
Riley chuckled. "Relax, I’m just messing with you."
He leaned back on the grass, letting the warm sun soak into his skin, the sound of water and Fluffy’s light footsteps the only background noise.
These were the moments that mattered—the quiet ones, away from the battles and schemes, where nothing needed to be said, and everything just felt right.
Yes, life was good. And for now, that was enough.
After a few minutes of rest under the shade of a swaying willow, Riley stretched lazily, his arms folding behind his head as he watched clouds drift across the sky.
The rhythmic sound of the river flowing beside him, paired with the occasional chirp of birds hidden in the trees, lulled him into a tranquil daze.
With Fluffy curled up beside him, softly snoring with a fish-shaped leaf covering his face, it was the kind of peace Riley wished he could bottle up and carry with him.
Eventually, he sat up, took a deep breath of fresh air, and casually cast another line into the water.
The hook made a soft plunk as it sank below the surface.
He leaned back again, ready to return to his well-earned relaxation.
But that calm was short-lived.
A flicker of awareness tugged at the edge of his mind.
One of his clones, stationed back in the Austere Clan, had picked up something.
Riley’s consciousness shifted, his vision overlapping with the clone’s.
He blinked—and suddenly, he was seeing through two pairs of eyes at once.
"Hmm... that’s new," he murmured aloud, tone curious but slightly jaded.
The clone was holding a letter—an elegant one, sealed with wax and inscribed with fine calligraphy.
Even without opening it, Riley could already guess what it contained.
He had seen too many of these by now not to know. A marriage proposal. Another one.
With a sigh, he opened the letter anyway, reading through the carefully worded formalities.
It was from the daughter of some high-ranking elder in a prestigious sect, expressing her ’deep admiration’ for his talents, reputation, and ’noble bearing.’
Of course, she wanted to ’forge a powerful alliance through marriage,’ which, in plain terms, meant she—or rather her clan—wanted access to his name, influence, and bloodline.
Riley tossed a small stone into the river, watching the ripples spread.
He had received so many of these offers that he’d lost count.
Dozens? Hundreds?
No—likely in the thousands by now.
Each one framed differently, some sweet and shy, others direct and bold, but they all smelled the same underneath.
Desperation. Greed. Calculation.
He didn’t blame them entirely.
In a world driven by power, status, and cultivation potential, marrying someone like him—someone with absurd strength, mysterious origins, and an ever-growing legend—was a prize many couldn’t ignore.
He was a walking fortune, and they all wanted a piece.
But that wasn’t how Riley operated.
He wasn’t interested in political unions or convenient bedfellows.
What he craved was something genuine. A spark.
A laugh shared in the middle of nowhere. A chance meeting in the rain.
The kind of romance that stories were written about—not contracts negotiated behind closed doors.
He chuckled to himself.
"Romantic fool," he muttered, shaking his head.
Of course, he wasn’t above pleasure or companionship. He wasn’t a monk.
There were... exceptions.
Thea, for one, was different. Ambitious, yes—but she carried herself with purpose, not desperation.
She wasn’t just chasing him for his name—she had her own dreams, her own power.
There was fire in her, a sharpness that intrigued him.
And she didn’t grovel or flatter—she challenged.
That alone set her miles apart from the usual crowd.
And then there was Clara who was already one of his women today.
Ah, Clara—Thea’s best friend and a beauty in her own right.
Graceful, intelligent, with a calm presence that balanced Thea’s fierceness.
Riley had noticed the subtle glances, the unspoken understandings between the two.
They are definitely cooking something.
And he would wait until they would be ready to come to him and let him devour them fully in the most erotic ways.
There was potential there.
Not in the way those desperate letters promised, but in something far more interesting.
The idea of the two of them working together—not just in cultivation, but in the intimacy of shared affection—was... well, undeniably enticing.
Two best friends competing for his cock.
He smirked to himself, shaking his head.
"Clara and Thea... now that’s a duo worth watching," he muttered, casting another glance at Fluffy, who snorted in his sleep.
Still, he wasn’t rushing into anything.
If it happened, it would happen naturally—on his terms.
Until then, he was content to fish, relax, and let the world try to seduce him one letter at a time.
Another fish tugged on the line. Riley grinned.
"Looks like dinner’s coming in again," he said, standing up as the rod bent sharply.
As he reeled it in, he couldn’t help but think—maybe, just maybe, life was setting up something more interesting than just fish and letters.
And he was ready for it.
Riley smiled as he leaned back against the smooth trunk of an old willow, the light sound of the river flowing nearby grounding him in the moment.
His consciousness, however, continued to split—his true body still fishing lazily by the riverbank, while his mind was tuned in to what one of his clones was seeing back at the Austere Clan.
There, on a carved wooden table in his private quarters, lay a letter.
But unlike the usual flood of ornate scrolls and gilded envelopes begging for his attention, this one was unadorned.
No sigils. No perfume. No house crest or symbol of power.
Just a folded piece of parchment, unassuming and quiet, as if it had no desire to be anything more than it was.
His clone picked it up and carefully unfolded it.
The handwriting inside was fluid and elegant—not forced, not ornamental.
Just honest. And the content? Not a plea for marriage.
Not a proposal wrapped in calculated flattery. It was a poem. A simple one.
Signed at the bottom, in graceful, almost hesitant script: Fiona.
Riley blinked in mild surprise. A poem? From a stranger? That was... rare. And intriguing.
He skimmed through the lines, eyes naturally drawn to a few verses that reached out and wrapped around something deep inside him, something that had been dormant for far too long:
"I am but a speck of dust, bound by the same winds in the air."
"I go not of my whim, but in duty and honor bound—true and fair."
"This life’s tragic twists and turns, I am happy to bear."
"Just another lost soul hoping for someone to care."