In a high-level martial arts game, a wife is given to you at the start.

Shangguan Lin's move was extremely skillful—he wasn't testing anyone, nor was he planting spies. Given his status as a Special-Rank Steward, it was only natural for his residence to have attendants; however, most high-ranking officials would select their own from the arena's attendant section, but Shangguan Lin did it for him. This meant he was proactively taking control of the "personnel arrangement," yet doing it openly and legitimately within his duties.

More importantly, Shangguan Lin had clearly figured out Lin Qiye's preferences.

Ten women, all of superior beauty and temperament, would each be considered top-tier in the gladiator quarters of the arena. This was no longer a simple matter of "providing servants"—it was about catering to their tastes.

Lin Qiye stood inside the door, his gaze lingering on the ten women for a few moments before he nodded: "Please thank Chief Shangguan for me."

Deacon Fang bowed hurriedly: "I will certainly deliver it. Then I will take my leave." He took two steps back, turned around and quickly left along the stone path he had come from, without saying a word more.

After Deacon Fang left, the ten women simultaneously bowed slightly to Lin Qiye, their movements so synchronized as if they had rehearsed beforehand: "Greetings, Deacon Lin."

Lin Qiye did not let them in immediately, but asked a few basic questions first.

The leader was a woman who appeared to be in her mid-twenties, with a gentle face and a composed demeanor. She introduced herself as Qingyin. She spoke clearly and logically, neither arrogant nor servile, and was responsible for coordination among the ten people. According to her, two of the ten were indeed knowledgeable in medicinal cuisine—one of whom was herself, as her maternal family had once run a small pharmacy outside the arena; the other three had a foundation in cultivation, all around the Transcendent Realm, and although not high, they were more than capable of managing the cultivation room and organizing materials; the remaining five were responsible for daily chores.

After hearing this, Lin Qiye stepped aside to let him in: "Come in."

Ten women filed in.

Luo Sheng was sitting on a stone bench in the second inner courtyard, sewing clothes for her eldest daughter. Shuang'er was in a side room reading a cultivation notebook she had brought from her old home. Man Ji had just finished a set of punches and was sitting by the pool, catching her breath, casually splashing water on her face.

The three women's gazes fell on them simultaneously as the ten women walked through the inner courtyard toward the third side room, and then almost at the same time withdrew, each with their own quiet demeanor.

Luo Sheng lowered her head and continued sewing, the stitches becoming denser than before, but she didn't say anything.

Shuang'er turned a page of her book, as if she hadn't seen those people.

The Barbarian Princess stood up from the pool, patted the water droplets off her hands, and grinned at Lin Qiye—a grin that carried an indescribable meaning: "Oh, Steward, you've got quite a few people on you, haven't you?"

Lin Qiye didn't respond to her words. Instead, he walked to the stone table in the center of the inner courtyard, sat down, and briefly explained the arrangements for the ten women—two would be in charge of medicinal cuisine, three would assist in the cultivation room and materials room, and five would handle daily chores. The allocation was clear and reasonable, as if he were arranging something perfectly normal.

After he finished speaking, the courtyard was quiet for a moment.

Luo Sheng put down her needlework, looked up, and calmly glanced at Lin Qiye. She didn't get angry, didn't question him, and didn't even show any obvious dissatisfaction. She simply asked in an extremely calm tone, "Ten people, is that enough room?"

"There are a few empty rooms in the third side courtyard; they can be moved into after a little adjustment."

Luo Sheng nodded, said nothing more, and lowered her head again to continue sewing.

Shuang'er didn't look up from beginning to end, as if she was focused on reading the cultivation notes, but she turned the pages a little slower than before.

The Barbarian Princess stood by the pool, arms crossed, her gaze shifting from the direction where the ten women had disappeared to Lin Qiye, a half-smile playing on her lips: "Lin Qiye, you're quite the big shot now, aren't you?"

Lin Qiye knew she wasn't happy. But he had no intention of comforting her—he had already figured this out; his women would only increase, and this was just the beginning. If they couldn't even get past this hurdle, life would be even harder in the future.

He poured himself a cup of tea, took a sip, and then said something that completely froze the smile on Barbarian Princess's face: "You'll have to get used to it."

He put down his teacup, stood up, and walked towards the cultivation room in the third courtyard.

The Barbarian Princess stood by the pool, watching his figure disappear through the doorway of the training room, remaining silent for a long while. Then she lowered her head, reaching out to touch her prominently protruding belly, her voice low and tinged with a hint of grievance: "I'm not used to it..."

She only said those words to herself.

The second courtyard returned to silence, with only the gentle ripples of the pond and the soft rustling of needle and thread as Luo Sheng sewed through the fabric.

Shuang'er closed the cultivation notebook, stood up, and walked to the stone bench in the inner courtyard, sitting down next to where Lin Qiye had just been. She didn't look at Luo Sheng, her gaze fixed on the few golden fish swimming in the pond, but her voice clearly reached Luo Sheng's ears: "Are you alright?"

"It's fine." Luo Sheng's reply was calm, her needlework continuing uninterrupted. "He's right, we do need to learn to adapt."

Shuang'er didn't say anything more.

She knew Luo Sheng wasn't someone who easily showed her emotions. But she could also sense that beneath Luo Sheng's calm exterior, a subtle, imperceptible change was taking place—it wasn't anger, sadness, or despair. It was something more subtle, like gradually accepting a reality she once thought she would never accept over the long years.

That night, after finishing his work for the day, Lin Qiye returned to the inner courtyard and knocked on Shuang'er's door.

Shuang'er was sitting on the edge of the bed, turning the last page of her cultivation notebook by the warm light of the Qi lamp. Hearing a knock on the door, she looked up: "The door isn't closed."

Lin Qiye pushed the door open, closed it behind him, and sat down at the table.

Shuang'er put down her book, looked up at him, and saw no anger or questioning in his clear eyes, only a calmness that seemed to have seen through everything.

"You'd already planned to take those people in, hadn't you?"

"It was sent by Shangguan Lin. Refusing it would be telling him I don't trust him. Accepting it would be telling him I accepted his offer of goodwill." Lin Qiye's voice was also calm. "In this position, not everything can be decided based on personal preference."

Shuang'er looked at him, remained silent for a long time, and then gently shook her head: "You know perfectly well that I wasn't asking about that."

Lin Qiye did not avoid her gaze: "What you care about is why I didn't discuss it with you first."

Shuang'er turned her head slightly, neither admitting nor denying.

"Because there's no room for negotiation on this matter," Lin Qiye said bluntly. "I'll have more and more women, not just these ten."