Chapter 1: Descending the Mountain

Dragon Country, Mount Kunlun.

At the foot of the mountain, a small house sent up thin curls of smoke.

At that moment, an old man and a young man sat across from each other at the stone table in front of the house.

The old man sighed, his voice weak and feeble, like a flickering oil lamp on the verge of dying out.

“Chen Fan, my time is almost up,” he said. “It’s time for you to descend the mountain.”

Chen Fan was taken aback, surprise sweeping across his face before it turned to pain.

“Old man, you’re my master and you’re about to go,” he said. “How could I go down the mountain now and enjoy the pleasures of the world? Wouldn’t that make me a terrible person?”

The old man seemed to enjoy these words, a hint of a pleased smile breaking through his solemn features.

But then, Chen Fan’s lips curled into a sly grin, and his tone shifted.

“Regardless, I should at least stay for the farewell feast before I go,” he said, chuckling. “You know I love meat. And I don’t drink, so I’ll sit at the children’s table.”

The old man was dumbfounded, coughing violently as he stared at Chen Fan in disbelief.

“You rascal! I’m on my deathbed, and all you care about is the feast?”

A mountain breeze swept by, lifting Chen Fan’s hair. Beneath his handsome smile, the corner of his lips lifted almost imperceptibly.

“The evening before last, you roasted a wild rabbit you caught while I was asleep,” Chen Fan recounted. “Yesterday at noon, you chased down that black boar behind the mountain. Old man, with your constitution, you expect me to believe you’re dying? Nonsense!”

“By our agreement, I was supposed to descend the mountain in another six months. Why are you in such a hurry to send me off now? Unless… you’re planning to elope with some widow?”

Exposed, the old man could only cough to hide his embarrassment, waving his hand for Chen Fan to ignore the details. He slipped a piece of paper onto the table.

Chen Fan glanced at it out of the corner of his eye and his heart pounded. He snatched up the note.

A few short lines, yet they stirred a flood of memories within him.

Meng Rongrong, President of Blossom Group, worth tens of billions!

Shao Zining, leading idol in Dragon Country, a superstar in the entertainment industry!

Yan Qingran, internationally renowned psychiatrist, the living female Hua Tuo!

…

A storm of emotions surged in Chen Fan’s heart, but joy dominated.

He hadn’t expected his sisters to become so remarkable.

The old man watched Chen Fan, who was momentarily speechless, and smiled softly.

He sighed and spoke gently.

“The fire at Double Red Orphanage… Your seven sisters thought only of you, and in the end, they were trapped in the blaze. You promised me that if I saved them, you’d become my disciple.”

“Fifteen years have passed in a blink. Now go—your sisters need you.”

Chen Fan met the old man’s steady gaze with determination and nodded firmly.

“Yes.”

An hour later.

With his bundle slung over his shoulder, Chen Fan dashed down the mountain, as if he couldn’t wait another moment to leave Kunlun.

Behind him, a furious roar echoed.

“Brat, go if you must! But did you have to stew my chicken before you left?”

Hearing the outburst, Chen Fan picked up his pace, muttering to himself:

This old man—what’s wrong with stewing a chicken for his beloved disciple’s farewell? So stingy…

One day later, Huajiang City.

First-floor lobby, Blossom Group.

Sitting on the sofa, Chen Fan’s sharp gaze caught the woman who had just entered the lobby.

She wore a smart business suit, exuding competence and maturity. On her chest was a badge: Assistant to the President—Zhang Siying.

Big Sister’s assistant?

Chen Fan shot a mock-annoyed glance at the young receptionist who had just stopped him, then stepped in front of Zhang Siying.

“Hello, could you help me contact Meng Rongrong?” he asked. “I’m a distant relative of hers.”

Zhang Siying paused, sizing Chen Fan up and down.

“A distant relative?” she repeated inwardly. Wasn’t President Meng raised in an orphanage? Where would a distant relative come from?

But this man looked about the same age as President Meng…

Suddenly, a wild thought flashed through her mind.

She swallowed hard.

“You… are you Mr. Chen Fan?” she ventured.

Chen Fan nearly gasped aloud.

“Wow, you guessed that?” he said. “Are you a fortune-teller?”

Zhang Siying visibly relaxed, her gaze softening as she looked at him, her tone turning gentle.

“Mr. Chen Fan, please wait a moment…”

With that, she stepped aside to make a phone call.

Chen Fan was utterly confused. What on earth was going on?

“Hey, how did you guess my name?” he called after her. “Where I come from, leaving things unsaid gets you thrown into a pig cage, you know?”

At that moment, he noticed the young receptionist approaching, her face full of apology. Standing about 1.65 meters, she lowered her head slightly in front of Chen Fan and spoke hesitantly.

“Mr. Chen Fan, please don’t be upset. I didn’t mean to stop you from seeing President Meng. If you’d said you were Chen Fan, I’d have let you up right away.”

Seeing his confusion, she explained kindly.

“It’s like this, Mr. Chen. Your sister, Meng Rongrong—our President Meng—has been looking for you. It’s not a secret in Blossom Group. Everyone knows she has a missing younger brother, about twenty years old. And we know your name is Chen Fan. Assistant Zhang is probably contacting her now.”

Big Sister has been searching for me?

Suddenly, Chen Fan’s nose tingled with emotion. After all these years…

He was at a loss for words.

Two minutes later.

A refined woman in high heels burst out of the elevator and hurried over.

Her skin was porcelain white, her hair cascaded like silk, and her captivating eyes drew all attention.

Upon seeing Chen Fan, she was visibly agitated.

“Xiaofan, there are too many people here. Let’s talk in my office.”

So beautiful…

That was Chen Fan’s first impression.

Fifteen years had passed, but all seven sisters had been beauties since childhood. He had no trouble recognizing his eldest sister, Meng Rongrong.

Yet, a strange sadness welled up inside him.

There was a sense of unfamiliarity in Meng Rongrong’s demeanor.

When he was young, she had doted on him most—giving him the best of the orphanage’s treats, spoiling him more than any of his other sisters.

He’d thought she would embrace him the moment they met again.

But fifteen years… Time had changed them, and some distance was inevitable.

Suppressing his feelings, Chen Fan nodded.

“Alright.”

President’s Office.

“Xiaofan, close the door, please,” Meng Rongrong’s clear, melodious voice called.

As Chen Fan closed the door and turned, he saw her holding a gleaming dagger, its tip aimed right at his chest.

Her voice was as cold as ice.

“Sir, I don’t care why you’re impersonating my brother. But please show some respect. If you try this again, this dagger will pierce your heart.”