I will make Qin Shi Huang immortal in the Great Qin Dynasty.

Qin Tian suddenly turned around and tried to hug himself—but found nothing.

Qiu Ning had already taken several steps back, her skirt fluttering, and a hint of a smile she couldn't hide in her eyes.

She is usually very gentle and reserved, but at this moment she revealed a rare hint of girlish playfulness.

"You're bullying me!" Qin Tian stood in the middle of the courtyard and shouted, pretending to be angry.

"It's more like the Imperial Advisor is cheating." Dong Yao's voice came from the left, cold as frost and snow. "To be able to spin so fast even with your eyes covered, you're clearly peeking."

"I didn't see it." Qin Tian spread his hands. "If I really had, I would have caught you all long ago."

As he spoke, he lunged towards Dongyao again.

Dongyao reacted quickly, ducking under his arm as her skirt swept across the ground, creating a gentle breeze.

Her dodge was clean and efficient, clearly showing she had some training in agility, not the clumsy, sheltered young lady.

The laughter in the courtyard grew louder and louder.

Eight maids ran around in the courtyard, their skirts fluttering, and the pearl hairpins in their hair shimmering in the morning light, like eight butterflies dancing gracefully.

Sometimes they would brush past Qin Tian, ​​sometimes they would circle around him from behind and pat him on the shoulder, sometimes they would deliberately make noise to lure him in the wrong direction, and then laugh and dodge away, their movements becoming more and more agile.

Qin Tian circled around and pounced more than ten times, but he failed to catch her even once.

He wasn't in a hurry and was enjoying himself.

For twenty years, I lived in the mountains, doing nothing but cultivation every day, without even a single person to talk to.

Chasing and playing in the sunshine like this, listening to the girls' laughter echoing in the courtyard, was something he had never dared to dream of in the past twenty years.

Although he didn't catch any, the corners of his mouth were always turned up, so high that his cheeks started to ache.

"Grand Preceptor, come and catch me! If you catch me, I'll let you have your way..." Xia Rou's voice came from the right front, with a deliberately drawn-out ending and an undisguised smile.

Qin Tian's grin widened even further.

He lunged forward again, following the direction of the sound, his movements even faster than before. But Xia Rou deftly turned and slipped past his fingertips, her skirt brushing against them and leaving a faint, lingering fragrance.

"You guys are too slippery." Qin Tian stopped and pretended to be out of breath. "You're all like eels, impossible to catch."

"If the Imperial Advisor can't catch up, just admit it," Chunwei's gentle voice came from behind. "We won't laugh at you."

Qin Tian chuckled.

"Then I'll have to use my real skills."

He raised his right hand and snapped his fingers.

An invisible force of energy surged from his palm, like a nimble snake, winding and slithering through the air, silently approaching the eight maids.

As the Yuan energy approached them, it suddenly dispersed, transforming into eight thin, invisible threads that wrapped around their wrists and ankles respectively.

The silk threads were soft yet resilient, like spider silk blown by the wind, gently landing on them before tightening.

The eight maids froze simultaneously.

They felt something unseen binding them; it didn't hurt or feel tight, but it made their movements slow and clumsy.

They wanted to run, but their feet wouldn't lift; they wanted to hide, but their bodies wouldn't turn.

They were like puppets held by invisible threads, unable to move at all.

Xia Rou blinked, looked down at her empty wrist, which was completely bare.

But she just couldn't move.

"The Imperial Advisor is cheating!" She stomped her foot, her voice tinged with reproach.

"That's right, the Imperial Preceptor is cheating!" Xue Mei chimed in, her cheeks puffed out and her eyes wide. "We agreed not to use magic!"

Qin Tian removed the blindfold from his eyes, revealing a pair of bright, smiling eyes.

He looked at the eight maids who were gently bound by Yuan energy threads, and his smile grew wider and wider.

With a gentle lift of his hand, the eight Yuan energy threads slowly pulled them toward the center, as if the eight people were strung together by an invisible rope, standing one after another in a neat row.

"I didn't say I didn't need it." Qin Tian chuckled, rubbed his hands together, and slowly walked towards them.

The eight maids blushed as they looked at him. Some lowered their heads, some turned their faces away, and some secretly glanced in his direction before quickly lowering their eyes again.

They said the "national advisor was cheating," but they weren't actually afraid; instead, they felt a strange sense of anticipation.

They were selected by His Majesty from the palace and sent to the Imperial Preceptor's residence. From the moment they entered, they knew that their future fate depended on someone else.

The Imperial Preceptor could do whatever he wanted to them without anyone saying anything or feeling that it was wrong.

Qin Tian stopped in front of them.

He looked at the eight young and beautiful faces, at their flushed cheeks and slightly trembling eyelashes, and a complex emotion suddenly welled up in his heart.

Of course he can do whatever he wants, and they won't refuse, nor are they capable of refusing.

But he is a person from two thousand years later, and something out of step with this era is etched in his bones: respect.

At the very least, it's about basic respect—not doing things against someone's will.

Moreover, there is something even more practical.

His body was that of a Yuan Shi realm cultivator, and after twenty years of tempering with Yuan power, his bones and muscles were as strong as iron, and his blood vessels as strong as steel.

A single punch can shatter a boulder, and a single step can create cracks in the bluestone ground.

With such a body, getting close to a few ordinary women from the Qin Dynasty could easily send them to their deaths.

Let's talk about it later when they've mastered the Yuan Power Guidance Technique and their bodies are stronger.

Thinking of this, Qin Tian chuckled, took two steps back, and gently waved his right hand.

The Yuan energy threads wrapped around the eight maids vanished without a sound, as if they had never existed.

The eight maids relaxed slightly, regaining their freedom, but none of them ran away.

They stood there, looking at Qin Tian, ​​their blushes not yet completely gone.

"Alright, that's enough for today." Qin Tian stretched, the sunlight shining on his white clothes, giving him a light golden glow. "You all go about your business and tidy up the manor. I'll go see what's in the kitchen."

The eight maids bowed in unison, responded with a "Yes," and then dispersed.

They walked slowly, in twos and threes heading in different directions. Some of them turned back to look at Qin Tian's back, a smile playing on their lips.

Qin Tian took two steps toward the kitchen, then stopped and called out from behind.

"By the way, let's play some more tonight."

The eight maids turned around in unison, each with a different smile on their face. Some covered their mouths and chuckled, some smiled with upturned eyes, some smiled with lowered heads, and some responded generously, "The Imperial Preceptor can no longer renege on his promise."

Qin Tian chuckled, didn't reply, and strode towards the kitchen.

The courtyard finally quieted down.

From the distant corridor came the light footsteps of maids and their hushed laughter, while a wisp of smoke drifted from the direction of the kitchen, carrying the aroma of firewood and rice porridge.

Qin Tian stood at the kitchen doorway, looking at the large pot steaming on the stove, and took a deep breath.

The aroma of rice porridge wafted into his nostrils, warm and comforting, carrying a taste of home he had never experienced in twenty years.

From this day forward, he has his own mansion in this city, his own guards and maids, and a place he can call "home".

He picked up a bowl of hot porridge, sat on the threshold of the kitchen door, and slowly drank it while blowing on it to cool it down.

The porridge was very hot, but it smelled delicious.

He took a sip, then another, and then looked up at the vibrant courtyard, a wide smile curving his lips.

These days are really good.