Chapter 1: The Calamity Cultivator

  The morning sun bathed the Azure Crystal Sect in prismatic light, casting rainbow patterns across the immaculate courtyard where three hundred disciples sat in perfect meditation. Their breathing synchronized like a single organism, spiritual energy flowing in harmonic patterns visible only to those with cultivated sight.

  All except for one.

  In the back row, Darian Lin's energy fluctuated like a drunken firefly, pulsing erratically as sweat beaded on his forehead. His handsome features were contorted in what appeared to be profound cultivation concentration but was actually desperate constipation. His face had turned redder than a phoenix's tail feathers, and the veins on his temples throbbed with such intensity they resembled miniature dragons swimming beneath his skin.

  Three days.

  He had been constipated for three days after accidentally consuming what he thought was a Transcendent Clarity Pill but was actually a binding agent meant for repairing ceremonial statues.

  "Focus on the breathing," he muttered to himself, lower lip twitching—a nervous habit that emerged whenever he was stressed or near pretty women. "Inhale... e-exhale... don't think about the three days of—oh heavens, I'm never eating strange pills again."

  Shifting uncomfortably, Darian cracked one eye open, glancing toward the women's section of the courtyard where Senior Sister Mei practiced. Her long black hair rippled in the spiritual breeze generated by her perfect cultivation technique, each strand gleaming like polished obsidian. She was renowned throughout the sect not only for her beauty but for her fanatical adherence to cleanliness and order. Disciples whispered that she once expelled a junior from her training group for having asymmetrical sleeve folds.

  Beautiful. Magnificent. I'd endure a thousand Statue Binding Pills just for one chance to—

  His distracted thoughts shattered his already tenuous concentration. A loud gurgle emanated from his abdomen, immediate drawing the attention of nearby disciples. Horror washed over him as he felt a surge of chaotic energy building in his lower dantian.

  No, no, no! Not here! Not now!

  Too late. His "Reverse Charm Aura" activated at the worst possible moment.

  In cultivator society, accidental energy releases were embarrassing but not uncommon among junior disciples. What made Darian special was the spectacular and impossible-to-ignore nature of his failures.

  A small cloud formed above his head, growing rapidly until it loomed over the entire back quarter of the courtyard. His fellow disciples, sensing the impending disaster, scrambled away with the practiced efficiency of those who'd witnessed this phenomenon before—all except for poor Liang Wei, a perpetually unlucky first-year who had fallen asleep during meditation. The unfortunate disciple had been present for six of Darian's previous disasters, including the infamous "Talking Koi Incident" that had left him speaking in rhyming couplets for a week.

  "I can control this," Darian whispered, desperately drawing symbols in the air with trembling fingers. "I just need to reverse the energy flow and—"

  The cloud turned vivid pink and began raining. Not water, but a viscous, perfumed liquid that smelled overwhelmingly of moonflowers and passion fruit with undertones of what could only be described as "desperate romantic longing." Within seconds, two dozen disciples were drenched in the fragrant downpour, the liquid so potent it immediately soaked through three layers of expensive cultivation robes.

  Liang Wei sputtered awake, his meditation robes now clinging to his body and reeking of what amounted to an entire perfume shop's inventory.

  "Again, Senior Brother Lin?" he wailed, frantically wiping his face. "That's the third time this month! I still haven't gotten the green spots from last week's incident off my sacred scriptures!"

  Senior Sister Mei stood with deadly calm as the pink liquid dripped from her now-ruined hair, her expression promising a retribution so terrible that even the sect elders might not find Darian's remains. If the concept of "murder" could be condensed into one silent stare, Darian was certain he'd be six feet under a tombstone reading "Here lies an idiot who annoyed the wrong woman."

  "L-let me fix this," Darian stammered, leaping to his feet with such force that he nearly toppled over. He reached for his spiritual pouch, pulling out a small white jade bottle. "This is a cleansing mist that will—"

  The bottle slipped through his fingers as though coated in oil, shattering on the stone courtyard. Rather than mist, it released a puff of iridescent powder that instantly adhered to the wet disciples, coating them in sparkling dust that caught the morning light like thousands of tiny diamonds.

  There was a moment of stunned silence.

  "I look like I was eaten by a rainbow and then regurgitated," moaned Liang Wei, trying unsuccessfully to brush the glittering particles from his eyelashes.

  Elder Fang, the stern discipline master of the Azure Crystal Sect, pushed through the crowd of glittering disciples. His long white beard quivered with barely contained fury as his gaze locked onto Darian. The vein pulsing in his temple had grown so prominent that younger disciples were taking bets on when it might finally explode.

  "Senior Brother Lin," he said with deceptive softness that sent chills down Darian's spine, "would you care to explain why you have turned twenty-seven of our sect's most promising disciples into human festival lanterns?"

  Darian opened his mouth to speak when a final, treacherous gurgle from his abdomen preceded the loudest, most spiritually-enhanced flatulence in the history of the Azure Crystal Sect. The sound echoed off the surrounding mountains, startling a flock of spirit cranes into flight a mile away and causing ripples across the sacred meditation pond.

  The unexpected release had one benefit: the statue-binding agent was finally dislodged from his system. It had a significant drawback, however—the spiritual energy expelled with it formed into a visible green dragon that circled the courtyard twice before dissipating into the morning air, leaving behind the lingering scent of overripe spirit herbs.

  In any other sect, such an incident might have merely caused mild embarrassment. In the Azure Crystal Sect, renowned for its dignity and decorum, it was roughly equivalent to setting fire to the ancestral shrine while dancing naked. Some might call it a cultivation anomaly; Darian called it Tuesday.

  Elder Fang's left eye twitched so violently it resembled a trapped butterfly desperately seeking escape. "My office. Now."

  "This is the seventh—no, eighth—major incident this month alone," Elder Fang said, pacing behind his ornate desk carved from thousand-year spirit wood. Each step he took left faint glowing footprints that slowly faded—a sign of barely contained spiritual energy. "We've had to rebuild the eastern alchemy lab twice. The koi in the meditation pond are still speaking in rhyming couplets. And I don't even want to discuss what happened with the Sect Master's daughter and that truth-revealing incense."

  Darian stood with his head bowed, trying to look appropriately chastised while batting away stray sparkles that continued to fall from his robes. The truth was, he was genuinely mortified. Every disaster, every catastrophe, began with the same simple desire that afflicted young men throughout the nine realms: he just wanted to impress a pretty girl.

  "Your cultivation talent is undeniable," Elder Fang continued, his voice softening slightly as he stroked his beard. "Your spiritual core is exceptionally pure, which is the only reason you haven't been expelled after turning the Sect Master's favorite singing birds mute for a month. Do you have any idea how many rare spirit herbs it took to restore their voices? The poor creatures now sound like drunken merchants at a winter festival."

  "I understand, Elder," Darian said, wincing as a particularly large glitter particle landed on the elder's immaculate floor. "I'll clean the courtyard immediately and offer my sincere apologies to all affected disciples."

  "Senior Sister Mei has already filed her seventh formal complaint against you," Elder Fang said, unrolling a scroll that unfurled dramatically across his desk and onto the floor, rolling several feet before stopping. "She suggests banishment to the Howling Ghost Mountains as an appropriate punishment. Quite merciful, considering her usual recommendations."

  Elder Fang sighed heavily, rolling the scroll back up with a flick of his wrist. "The Sect Master sees something in you, Lin. Either that, or he finds your disasters perversely entertaining. I've stopped trying to understand his reasoning."

  The old man picked up another scroll from his desk, unfurling it with deliberate slowness. "As punishment, you will inventory and clean the Ancient Storage Pavilion."

  Darian's heart sank. The Ancient Storage Pavilion was essentially a magical dumping ground where the sect stored countless broken artifacts, failed experimental talismans, and other potentially dangerous but too-valuable-to-discard items.

  "The entire pavilion?"

  "Every. Single. Room." Elder Fang's eyes narrowed to slits. "And you are expressly forbidden from touching, activating, or even breathing too heavily upon any artifact within. You will merely catalog and clean. If I discover you've brought a single enchanted dust bunny to life, I will personally ensure that you spend the next decade scrubbing latrines with your toothbrush."

  The Ancient Storage Pavilion lived up to its reputation. Dust thick enough to plant crops in covered every surface of the sprawling building. Shelves sagged under the weight of mysterious objects wrapped in preservation cloths, while jade boxes of varying sizes were stacked haphazardly in corners. Strange sounds occasionally emanated from deeper rooms—whispers, chimes, and once, what sounded suspiciously like a tiny sneeze.

  "At least I can't cause any more disasters today," Darian muttered to himself as he tied back his sleeves and picked up a feather duster that had seen better days—possibly during the founding of the sect itself. "Just dusting. Simple, straightforward dusting. Not a woman in sight to trigger my aura."

  In the vast cosmos of ironic statements, Darian's optimistic assessment ranked in the top percentile.

  Four hours later, he had cleared only a small fraction of the first room. His once-white inner robes were now gray with dust, and he had found nothing of interest—just broken talismans and training weapons with minor enchantments. Several times, he'd had to suppress sneezes, fearful that even that small disturbance might trigger some dormant magical catastrophe.

  As he moved a heavy jade box to reach behind it, his foot caught on an uneven floorboard. Darian stumbled, arms windmilling wildly as he fought to maintain his balance. His flailing limbs created a minor dust tornado, and he desperately tried to regain control as he pinwheeled across the room.

  "No, no, no, no—" he chanted, as though verbal repetition might somehow prevent the inevitable.

  His hand struck a shelf, sending a small object tumbling to the floor with a musical chime that seemed to reverberate longer than physically possible.

  "Please don't be valuable, please don't be valuable," he chanted, dropping to his knees to locate whatever had fallen. "Please be a worthless rock or a decorative paperweight or literally anything that can't explode, transform, or summon interdimensional beings."

  In the dim light filtering through the dusty windows, something glinted. Darian reached under a cabinet and pulled out what appeared to be a jade pendant, surprisingly free of dust despite its apparent age. Shaped like a teardrop, the pale green jade was shot through with veins of gold and suspended on a delicate silver chain.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  "Well, at least it's not broken," he murmured, relieved. He held it up to the light, admiring the craftsmanship. "I should put this back before—"

  The pendant began to warm in his palm, the gold veins pulsing with soft light.

  "Oh no." Darian's left eye started twitching—a perfect mirror of Elder Fang's. "No, no, no, NO. Not again!"

  Darian tried to set the pendant down, but it now seemed attached to his skin. The warmth intensified, not painful but insistent, like a living thing seeking attention. He shook his hand with increasing desperation, as if he were trying to fling off a particularly stubborn leech.

  "This isn't happening," he groaned, shaking his hand frantically. "Elder Fang will turn me into fertilizer for the spirit herbs garden! I'll be cleaning toilets until I grow a white beard longer than his!"

  The jade pendant grew brighter, its glow filling the dusty room with golden light. Darian felt a strange pulling sensation—not on his body, but somewhere deeper, as if something was tugging on his very soul.

  The pendant flashed once, blindingly bright, and a voice like aged wine poured into Darian's mind.

  Finally! After five thousand years, I have found a suitable vessel!

  Darian blinked spots from his vision to find a translucent figure hovering before him. The apparition took the form of a handsome man in archaic robes, his hair styled in a way that hadn't been fashionable for several millennia. He sported an elaborate mustache that curled at the ends and was posed with one hand on his hip, the other extended dramatically. His stance suggested he was leaning against an invisible wall, one leg crossed over the other, in what must have been the pinnacle of casual coolness five thousand years ago but now looked like he was suffering from a leg cramp.

  "Greetings, young cultivator!" the spirit announced with excessive volume better suited to addressing a crowd of thousands than a single terrified disciple. "I am the legendary Jade Casanova, master of the Nine Sacred Seduction Arts, conqueror of the most beautiful hearts in the nine realms, and three-time winner of the Golden Dynasty's 'Most Eligible Immortal' competition!"

  The spirit executed an elaborate bow that involved much flourishing of sleeves, three separate hand gestures, and ended with a pose that might have been impressive five thousand years ago but now looked like he was desperately trying to dislodge a pebble from his sandal while maintaining his dignity.

  "Uh," said Darian eloquently.

  "No need for words, my flustered young friend!" The spirit floated closer, circling Darian with an appraising eye. At one point, he produced a translucent monocle from nowhere and examined Darian through it with exaggerated concentration. "Your spiritual essence has awakened me, which means you possess the rare Affinity of Desire! But I sense a peculiar blockage in your charm meridians. Most fascinating! It's like watching a spiritual waterfall flowing backward and then exploding!"

  Darian finally found his voice. "Are you... are you saying you're a ghost? A charm ghost?"

  The spirit drew himself up indignantly, his translucent form puffing like an offended rooster. The ends of his mustache quivered with affront, and he placed a hand over his heart as if physically wounded.

  "A ghost? A GHOST? I am an immortal cultivator who achieved the rare Passion Ascension! My physical form may be temporarily... misplaced... but I assure you, I am no common ghost! My spiritual refinement is akin to the finest century-aged wine, while ghosts are like—like stale rice water left in the sun!"

  "Immortal?" Darian's eyes widened. Immortals were the stuff of legends, cultivators who had ascended beyond mortal constraints. "But why are you trapped in a pendant?"

  The Jade Casanova coughed, suddenly finding the dusty ceiling extremely interesting. He adjusted his archaic collar and cleared his throat three times.

  "A minor setback. A temporary inconvenience. A small misunderstanding involving nine of the most powerful sorceresses of the Golden Cultivation Era who may have... slightly... misinterpreted my intentions to love them all equally. With their full knowledge, of course! I was completely forthright! Mostly."

  "They imprisoned you."

  "They expressed their passion through alternative means!" the spirit corrected, spinning in a circle that left a trail of golden sparkles. "The Vermillion Phoenix Empress was particularly creative with her binding incantation. Brilliant woman—terrifying temper. She once turned an entire mountain range into crystal sculptures because they blocked her view of the sunset."

  The spirit drifted closer, his translucent face mere inches from Darian's. "But enough about the past! I sense your predicament, young cultivator. You desire to charm the fairer practitioners of our noble arts, yet something blocks your natural talents."

  Darian sighed deeply. "It's called the 'Reverse Charm Aura.' Instead of attracting women, I cause magical disasters whenever I try to impress them. Today I turned Senior Sister Mei pink and glittery."

  "Pink and... glittery." The immortal spirit blinked several times. "Is that... desirable in this era?"

  "No. No, it is not. Especially not to a woman who once made a junior disciple copy the entire sect rulebook because he had a wrinkle in his meditation mat."

  "Ah! A perfectionist! In my day, I would have wooed such a woman with the 'Immaculate Moonlight Seduction Technique.' It involves creating small, perfect crystalline sculptures of her favorite flowers, then animating them to dance in formation while reciting poetry about her impeccable cultivation form." The Jade Casanova demonstrated by conjuring a small sparkly flower that promptly deflated like a punctured balloon.

  The spirit coughed. "My powers are still... regenerating. The point is, your aura is but a minor obstacle!"

  The Jade Casanova clapped his translucent hands together. "Fortune has smiled upon you today! I, the greatest master of romance the cultivation world has ever known, will take you as my disciple!"

  Darian's initial shock was rapidly giving way to skepticism. "No offense, Immortal Casanova, but your cultivation techniques might be a bit... outdated. I'm pretty sure no one has used 'crystalline flower dances' to woo women in the last four thousand years."

  "Nonsense! The art of seduction is eternal!" The spirit struck another dramatic pose, one leg extended, fingers framing his face as if posing for a portrait. "Techniques may evolve, but the principles remain! With my guidance, you will master the Nine Sacred Seduction Arts and win the hearts of the most beautiful cultivators in your sect!"

  "And in return?" Darian asked, crossing his arms. Even with his limited cultivation experience, he knew immortal spirits never offered something for nothing. "I assume you're not offering to help out of the goodness of your non-existent heart."

  The Jade Casanova's expression grew slightly more serious. "Sharp lad! Yes, there is a small favor I require. To regain my full power and eventually my physical form, I need to collect the essence of nine powerful female cultivators—one aligned with each of the primal elements."

  "Essence?" Darian's eyes narrowed suspiciously, his left eyebrow raised so high it threatened to leave his face entirely.

  "Nothing inappropriate!" the spirit hurried to explain, waving his hands frantically. "Simply the freely given spiritual energy generated during moments of... heightened emotion. The kind that occurs naturally during romantic connection."

  "You mean..."

  "A passionate kiss would suffice," the Jade Casanova clarified with a wink that involved half his face contracting in a way that looked almost painful. "Though more intimate exchanges generate proportionally more essence. But I am a gentleman! I operate strictly within the bounds of freely given affection!"

  Darian stared at the spirit, torn between laughter and despair. "Let me get this straight. You want me—someone who once accidentally turned himself into a giant chicken during a poetry recital for the alchemy pavilion girls—to seduce nine powerful female cultivators across the nine realms?"

  "Precisely!" The spirit beamed with the confidence of someone suggesting a simple stroll through a garden. "And in exchange, I'll teach you to control your 'Reverse Charm Aura' and master the arts of romance!"

  Before Darian could respond with the extensive list of reasons why this plan was doomed to spectacular failure, a voice echoed from outside the pavilion.

  "Senior Brother Lin? Are you in there? Elder Fang sent me to check on your progress."

  Darian recognized the voice immediately—Yun Hua, a junior disciple from the medicine pavilion. She was sweet, kind, and had the most beguiling dimples when she smiled. She was also, unfortunately, the witness to his most recent disaster in the herb garden when he'd accidentally created a new species of aphrodisiac mint that caused everyone to speak only in romantic poetry for six hours. Poor Liang Wei had proposed marriage to a medicinal fungus before the effects wore off.

  The Jade Casanova's ghostly form shimmered with excitement, practically vibrating in midair. "Perfect timing! Your first lesson begins now!"

  "What? No!" Darian hissed, frantically waving his hands through the spirit's form. "No lessons! No seduction! She'll end up with three heads or turned into a frog or something! Or I'll end up as a frog! With three heads!"

  But the immortal spirit had already drifted to his ear, whispering rapidly. "The first technique: The Celestial Compliment Cascade. Begin with three specific observations about her appearance, followed by a poetic metaphor comparing her to a natural phenomenon, then finish with a subtle implication of spiritual compatibility!"

  "I'm not going to—"

  The door creaked open, and Yun Hua peeked inside. Her delicate features were framed by wisps of hair that had escaped her practical ponytail, and the afternoon light caught the golden flecks in her brown eyes. A small smudge of medicinal paste dotted her sleeve, and the faint scent of healing herbs followed her into the room.

  "There you are, Senior Brother! Elder Fang was worried you might have... well..." She glanced around at the dusty storage room. "...accidentally awakened something dangerous."

  If only she knew, Darian thought.

  The Jade Casanova drifted excitedly beside Darian's ear, performing small loop-de-loops in his enthusiasm. "Now! Begin the cascade! Project confidence! Shoulders back! Chin up! Imagine yourself as the most desirable immortal in the nine realms!"

  Against his better judgment, Darian felt his mouth opening. Five thousand years of refined charm techniques couldn't possibly be worse than his own disastrous attempts, right? The law of averages suggested that eventually, something had to work.

  "Junior Sister Yun," he began, his voice suddenly smoother than he'd intended. His usual nervous lip twitch was conspicuously absent. "Your eyes capture light like the finest amber spirit stones. Your graceful movements remind me of willow branches in the spring breeze. The subtle fragrance of medicinal herbs that surrounds you speaks of your dedicated nature."

  Yun Hua's eyes widened slightly, a blush creeping across her cheeks.

  "You are like the first ray of sunrise piercing through morning mist—a promise of warmth and clarity in an uncertain world," Darian continued, the ancient words flowing through him like a river of honey. "I believe our spiritual resonance indicates a rare compatibility of essence."

  The Jade Casanova nodded approvingly. "Excellent delivery! Now, approach slowly while maintaining eye contact! Not too intense—think 'interested panther' rather than 'starving wolf'!"

  Darian took a step forward, his heart racing. Was this actually working? For once, no disasters had manifested. No pink clouds, no unexpected transformations, no—

  A familiar gurgle sounded from his abdomen.

  Oh no.

  His "Reverse Charm Aura" activated with a vengeance, as if making up for the brief moment of successful flirtation. The jade pendant around his neck flashed brilliantly, apparently interacting with his haywire energy in unexpected ways.

  The floor beneath them suddenly became as slippery as oiled glass. Darian's feet shot out from under him as though he'd stepped onto a frozen pond wearing greased sandals. As he fell, he instinctively reached out, somehow catching Yun Hua's wrist and pulling her down with him. The physics-defying trajectory of his fall suggested that his Reverse Charm Aura had a sadistic sense of humor and excellent understanding of compromising positions.

  They collided and tumbled in a tangle of limbs and robes, raising a cloud of five-thousand-year-old dust. When it settled, Darian found himself in a highly compromising position: flat on his back with Yun Hua sprawled atop him, their faces inches apart, her wide eyes staring directly into his.

  And then, impossibly, the situation worsened.

  The jade boxes Darian had carefully stacked earlier teetered, then crashed to the floor with a symphony of destruction. One cracked open, releasing what appeared to be thousands of tiny, glowing butterflies that swarmed around them in a dazzling display.

  "Illumination aphids," Yun Hua whispered, her breath warm against his face. "They're attracted to... body heat."

  The luminous insects settled on their entangled forms, creating intricate, shifting patterns across their robes. The combined effect in the dim storeroom was startlingly beautiful—and hideously romantic. If an artist had set out to create the most perfect scene of young love, they couldn't have improved upon this accidental tableau.

  Darian became acutely aware of every point of contact between them: her small hands pressed against his chest, the warmth of her body, the silken strands of her hair falling like a curtain around their faces. He could count each individual eyelash framing her startled eyes.

  The Jade Casanova's voice sounded in his mind, smug and triumphant. This is even better than I planned! The ambiance is perfect! The illumination aphids are a stroke of genius! In my day, cultivators paid small fortunes for such atmospheric enhancement! Now kiss her, you fool!

  "I... I apologize for my clumsiness, Junior Sister," Darian managed, his voice strangled. The familiar lip twitch had returned with a vengeance, making him look like he was attempting to send coded signals with his mouth.

  To his utter shock, Yun Hua didn't immediately leap away in disgust. Instead, a small, curious smile played at the corners of her mouth.

  "You know, Senior Brother," she said softly, "for someone with your reputation, you're surprisingly..."

  Whatever she was about to say was lost as the door to the storage room banged open with enough force to send several precariously balanced artifacts tumbling to the floor, revealing Elder Fang and, horrifyingly, Sect Master Zhou himself.

  The two powerful cultivators stared at the scene before them: Darian and Yun Hua entangled on the floor, surrounded by glowing aphids in what appeared to be a deliberately romantic setting, with various artifacts scattered around them.

  Elder Fang's eye began to twitch again, the vein in his temple now pulsating with such fury it threatened to achieve sentience and file its own complaint against Darian.

  The Sect Master's expression, however, was unreadable as he slowly stroked his beard. "Senior Disciple Lin," he said finally. "I believe we need to have a conversation about your... unique approach to inventory management."

  Beside Darian's ear, visible only to him, the Jade Casanova performed an elaborate gesture that might have been encouraging in his era but now resembled a man trying to swat away a swarm of invisible bees while simultaneously signaling a distant ship.

  A promising start! the immortal spirit declared cheerfully. Lesson one: Creating memorable encounters! And this, my young disciple, will certainly be memorable. Though in my day, it was generally advisable to avoid being discovered by sect leaders when in compromising positions. Unless, of course, the sect leader's daughter was involved, in which case it was an excellent shortcut to marriage negotiations!

  Darian closed his eyes in defeat. This was going to be a very long day. And judging by the weight of the jade pendant against his chest, an even longer nine realms adventure.

  Behind his closed eyelids, he could swear he saw his future flashing before him: nine realms, nine women, nine disasters of increasingly epic proportions. And somewhere in the cosmic distance, the sound of the universe laughing at his expense.