Chapter Forty-Seven: Three Wives? Four Concubines?

"This... this..." Tian Guoqiang had long suspected that Liu Fan's identity was extraordinary. He had assumed Liu Fan was the descendant of some powerful figure and, truth be told, had little fondness for these so-called privileged heirs, the so-called "second-generation officials." Yet, when he learned from an old comrade that Liu Fan was actually the chief instructor of the special forces, and that he already held the rank of senior colonel, Tian Guoqiang was utterly shocked, rendered speechless for a moment. As a former soldier himself, he knew well that the special forces revered strength above all—without genuine ability, not even the strongest connections could keep one afloat, much less allow one to become chief instructor.

His shock quickly gave way to a newfound respect. Turning to Liu Fan, he snapped to attention and saluted, laughing heartily. “Well, well, Mr. Liu, to be so young and already hold the rank of senior colonel—truly impressive! No wonder Secretary Liu holds you in such high regard. A limitless future lies ahead for you, without doubt.”

Thinking back to when he was Liu Fan’s age—a green recruit still wet behind the ears—he couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy. Yet, he was determined to befriend Liu Fan. After all, someone not yet twenty who had reached such heights surely had either an unshakeable background or exceptional talent. In either case, befriending Liu Fan could only be to his advantage.

“Chief, earlier… I… I truly didn't recognize your identity, so my behavior may have been out of line. Please don’t hold it against me,” Jiang Tao said awkwardly. Learning Liu Fan’s true status, regret welled up inside him. Like Tian Guoqiang, he had initially dismissed Liu Fan as just another privileged youth, feeling a certain disdain. He thought this was a mere formality—just a matter of releasing Liu Fan as instructed. He had even forgotten Secretary Liu’s earlier warning.

But Jiang Tao, as the city committee’s chief secretary, was nothing if not quick-witted. He soon regained his composure, all previous pride vanishing. Compared to Liu Fan, his own rank as a deputy director seemed utterly insignificant. It’s true what they say: comparison is the thief of joy.

Liu Fan observed these shifts in attitude with a trace of emotion. Indeed, power was a wondrous thing—it could make a man change utterly in an instant. Though their changes weren’t quite servile, the reversal in their bearing was dramatic. Only now did he truly appreciate the utility of power: it could spare one endless worldly troubles, even if previously he’d scorned such things.

There’s an old saying: you don’t strike a smiling man. Since the others were treating him with such courtesy, Liu Fan could not respond with coldness. He smiled and replied, “You flatter me, gentlemen. I only became an instructor by a stroke of luck. It’s nothing, really. Besides, I don’t wield any real power.”

“Come now, Mr. Liu, you’re far too modest,” Tian Guoqiang replied with a smile, though inwardly he mused: If you don’t have power, then who does? The moment you were taken to the police station, a thousand special forces soldiers showed up at the door. If that’s not power, what is?

He was not alone in his thoughts; Jiang Tao, beside him, kept dabbing nervously at his brow, and Jiang Minghui, the sub-bureau chief, dared not utter a word. Of those present, he held the lowest rank and feared that saying too much might lead to mistakes. He merely echoed the others now and then.

“All right, enough of this mutual admiration society. If you’ve got business, take it outside,” came a brusque interruption, the straightforward manner of a soldier shining through.

Liu Fan laughed. “Sun, how did you know I’d been brought to the police station? I don’t recall telling you. Still, I truly appreciate everyone’s help. But mobilizing troops without orders—won’t you be punished?”

During their ten days together, he and Sun Jianguo had become close friends, but Liu Fan hadn’t expected Sun to come to his aid so quickly. True friendship lay in sincerity—Sun’s willingness to risk punishment for him moved Liu Fan deeply.

“My brother’s in trouble and I’m supposed to sit on my hands? People might think we soldiers are all cowards! Plus, my niece came to me for help—how could I not come?” Sun Jianguo half-scolded Liu Fan for not informing him sooner, but his words were brimming with brotherly concern.

Liu Fan chuckled, “Sun, you know my skills. Those police officers at the station are no match for me.”

He meant this lightheartedly, but both Tian Guoqiang and Jiang Minghui, as leaders within the police force, felt a twinge of embarrassment. It was true that, in these peaceful times, the police force had grown somewhat complacent, and martial prowess was no longer as prized.

Sun Jianguo laughed. “You’re right, I suppose I worried for nothing. Still, it was worth coming to show some support—otherwise, anyone might think they could push you around.”

Though he knew Liu Fan was not one to suffer losses, Sun Jianguo was fiercely protective of his friends and would never tolerate anyone wronging them—especially Liu Fan, who had once passed on his skills to him. That was why, upon hearing of Liu Fan’s trouble, he had immediately rallied the troops.

“By the way, you said your niece told you to come to my rescue? I don’t recall knowing any niece of yours,” Liu Fan asked, puzzled.

“Oh, sorry, brother, I should have explained. My niece goes to your university—she’s a year above you. Tonight, she called me saying someone was trying to frame her brother-in-law. Only then did I realize she was talking about you, so I rushed over from the military district. They’re outside now—Zhao’s there too.”

As Sun Jianguo spoke, his tone shifted, and he strode over to Liu Fan, draping an arm around his neck with a mischievous grin. “Brother, I never took you for a lady’s man, but you’ve barely started school and already charmed a stunning beauty! Let me tell you, Zhao is head over heels for you. She was too shy to say it out there, but I’ve watched her grow up—she’s gentle, kind, beautiful, and comes from a good family. If you could marry her, you’d be grinning in your sleep.”

With this, Liu Fan realized it was Zhao Wanyi and her friends. What he hadn’t expected was that Sun Junyao was actually Sun Jianguo’s niece. The world truly was small. Hearing the latter part, Liu Fan’s composure faltered, his cheeks flushing. Yet, as he already had Ning Qi in his heart, he didn’t wish to mislead anyone. “Sun, to be honest, I already have a girlfriend. We’ve only just made it official, but we’ve known each other for years. I don’t want to waste anyone’s youth.”

“Nonsense. These days, what man of means doesn’t have a mistress or two? Look at the great families—three wives, four concubines, and they’re all doing just fine. As long as there’s love, what does a marriage certificate matter? It’s just a piece of paper. Who cares for that these days?” Sun Jianguo’s words were bold, leaving Liu Fan speechless. Having grown up with the strictures of monogamy deeply ingrained, Liu Fan was momentarily stunned by such a different perspective. He’d read plenty of novels online where the protagonist had a harem of beauties, but that was fiction—he never thought real life could be like this.

Just then, three men and three women entered the room. One girl, wearing a white cartoon dress, skipped forward, grinning slyly at Sun Jianguo. “Uncle, what’s this talk about mistresses and concubines? Are you thinking of following their example? Should I go tell Auntie on you?”

At the sound of her voice, Sun Jianguo instantly recognized the family’s little troublemaker. He turned, immediately ingratiating himself. “Heh, how could I be like that, Yao? You know how close your aunt and I are—couldn’t be better. I was just chatting with Fan, that’s all. You must have misheard. Yes, that’s it.”

He wouldn’t admit to anything—not with this little imp around. If she went and whispered even a word to his wife, he’d be in real trouble. Moments ago, he’d been preaching about the righteousness of polygamy; now, he was a model of henpecked fidelity.

Liu Fan was left speechless, but upon reflection, Sun Jianguo’s words were not without a certain sense. Liu Fan, after all, was a cultivator, guided by fate. Since he and Zhao Wanyi had crossed paths, that was destiny. He harbored no aversion to her—indeed, there was something about her that stirred him, something deep and inexplicable. Since fate had brought them together, why should he suppress his true feelings? To do so would only hinder his cultivation. When he first became a disciple, Fuxi himself had instructed him: he cultivated the purest and most masculine energies of heaven and earth. Combined with his innate constitution, he was destined to attract women irresistibly. The road ahead would be paved with romance, and in this age of spiritual decline, dual cultivation was the best way to advance.

“Pure yin cannot endure, nor can solitary yang thrive”—so the ancients said. The Yellow Emperor himself, it was told, achieved divinity by consorting with a hundred women. As his disciple, how could Liu Fan not understand the benefits of dual cultivation, though his modern upbringing had never allowed him to hope for such a thing.

He had long sensed Zhao Wanyi’s feelings for him. Only now, with his heart beginning to soften, did he realize that what he’d felt before was not just fleeting emotion.

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