High Martial: The World's Top Human Talent All Comes from Me

The good news: I have 365 peerless, prodigiously talented children, and every time one of them grows stronger, I receive a ten-thousandfold reward.

The bad news: every one of their mothers is a formidable woman I can't afford to offend.

Daughter No. 001 practices her horse stance, and the resilience of my meridians increases twenty thousandfold.

Son No. 037 works on a math problem, and I comprehend a Heaven-tier art of deduction.

Son No. 099 assassinates his target, and I somehow gain a shadow-escape divine ability.

(I haven't done a thing. I'm just sitting in a rickety cane chair, drinking tea.)

Meanwhile:

War Goddess: "Find that man. Kill him on sight."

Female CEO: "Find the source of those genes and buy it."

Underworld Queen (licking her lips): "The man who can give me a child belongs to me alone."

Heads of the great clans: "Who put horns on me? I'll tear them limb from limb!"

My daily routine:

Teach my daughter the horse stance in the morning → ascend on the spot.

Haggle with the vegetable seller over twenty cents at noon → get scorned by my daughter.

Deal with a black-market hit at night → slap the guy into a wall with Tai Chi.

The entire Federation is looking for me.

All I want is to be a useless old dad in slippers, living in peace.

But "you trash aren't fit to lay a finger on my kids!"