As Zhang Wei retreated to the confines of his bedroom, and the smile faded from his face replaced by a cloud of melancholy enveloped him like a suffocating fog.
Seeking solace, he withdrew a cigarette from its pack, its tip igniting with a flick of his lighter.
He inhaled deeply, the bitter smoke mingling with his despondent thoughts.
His body throbbed with a faint ache, a lingering reminder of the vigorous entanglements he had experienced with Yu Lei.
The physical discomfort served as a stark reminder that he had gravely overestimated his own strength.
Zhang Wei's confidence wavered, teetering on the precipice of doubt.
'System, what is happening?' he queried, his voice tinged with confusion. 'As a cultivator, shouldn't I possess unparalleled prowess?'
The vision of a harem, a tapestry of seduction and desire, danced before his eyes.
But the system stood ready to obliterate his fantasies, its words poised like a sword above his dreams.
