"Snort."
"It better be so."
Zhang Han's gaze swept across the assembled cultivators like a blade. Even as the murmurs faded, no one dared to meet his eyes. How could he not know the petty schemes of these visiting forces? But the Great Qin Dynasty had endured for thousands of years, and even he, commander of the Imperial Guard, could not see the limits of its foundation.
Still, one truth was clear—Great Qin was not something third-rate overlord clans like the Gu Family could provoke.
"The auction will be held tomorrow," Zhang Han declared, voice calm yet absolute. "All forces are to enter the city. Quarters have been prepared for each of you."
After finishing, he turned, his golden cloak rippling behind him, and disappeared into the streets of the ancient city.
For a heartbeat, silence. Then the crowd exhaled as one.
"Call…"
"I thought there was going to be a war!" someone muttered, still pale.
"Yeah! When that Gu family elder exploded those guards, I thought the whole dynasty would burn!"
"Hmph," another snorted softly, recovering enough to sneer. "The Gu family's done for. The Qin Dynasty isn't simple. Who dares challenge them now?"
A laugh came from the crowd's edge. It was Wei Zhongtian, elder of the God King Pavilion, his eyes half-closed, his tone airy.
"Do you all really think this is over? The heavens stir; our Pavilion's ancestor once said, 'When the golden age descends, Qingzhou shall blaze first.'"
The listeners blinked, confused. Wei Zhongtian only smiled faintly, turning toward the inner city, his figure swallowed by the swirling mist that guarded Great Qin's walls.
Within the ancient city itself, lantern-light shimmered off carved eaves and jade bridges. The streets were broad and paved with spirit stone, every step echoing faintly with restrained power.
"Sect Master, that attic ahead is where the Grand Xu Dynasty will stay," Luo Jingtao said, bowing slightly.
Qin Wucheng followed his gaze to a nine-storied loft built from black-gold timber and glazed azure tiles. The aura of protective formations flowed faintly around it like a living thing.
He nodded. "Not bad."
Sure enough—whether in his old world or this one, status spoke louder than words.
Even within Great Qin's capital, only those at or above the Soul Transformation Realm qualified for such quarters. The weaker sects and loose cultivators had to rent spirit-lodgings by the hour, while dynastic guests were treated like nobles.
Once inside, Zhao Han immediately began gawking.
"Senior brother, look! The walls are inlaid with spirit-jade! That bed must cost a hundred spirit stones! Look at that teapot—"
Qin Wucheng's face darkened by the breath.
He had only turned his back for two steps, and Zhao Han was already behaving like a country bumpkin who had never left the mountains.
And then, as if determined to test his patience further, the boy clasped Luo Xueyao's hand and grinned.
"Junior sister, let's go explore before it gets dark!"
"Eh—senior brother!" Luo Xueyao's face flushed pink, her voice flustered. She tried to pull back, but Zhao Han's enthusiasm was unrelenting.
Qin Wucheng's lips twitched.
Good heavens, he thought grimly, this fool can't cultivate quickly, but he's quick enough in romance.
Still, it wasn't worth intervening. He waved his hand. "Go. But keep your junior sister safe."
"Yes, Sect Master!" Zhao Han called, dragging the blushing Luo Xueyao toward the streets.
"Wang Xuan," Qin Wucheng said softly, not looking back.
"Already gone, Sect Master," came the calm reply from the void. The Lingxiao Sect's Nascent Soul Realm guard had vanished before the words finished echoing.
Left alone, Qin Wucheng took a long breath of the dense, humming air. "Let's have a look around, shall we?"
And with a faint smile, he too strode into the heart of Great Qin.
Inside the Royal Capital
Far from the bustle of the merchant districts, within the towering palaces of the Great Qin Dynasty, the night air shimmered with divine light.
In a secluded courtyard draped with immortal silk, a woman in a snow-white robe sat cross-legged beside a lotus pond. Her beauty seemed unreal—too serene, too perfect—as if she had stepped from a higher realm and merely worn mortal skin.
She was Princess Qin Huarong, jewel of the Great Qin royal line—yet that name hid a far deeper truth.
Once, she had been the Empress of the Phoenix Lotus Dynasty, a sovereign whose cultivation had touched the threshold of immortality itself. She had ruled a thousand-realm empire in the Upper World, her power second only to the gods. Until that fateful day—betrayal, ambush, and the awakening of an ancient corpse within a sealed immortal tomb.
Her body perished.
Her soul escaped.
And when next she awoke, it was here, in the mortal world, reborn as Great Qin's princess.
A flicker of light crossed her eyes as she opened them. Twin lotuses of gold and crimson spun within her pupils before fading.
"Qinglan Country…" she whispered. "If I ever return to the realm of my former power, you will be erased from the heavens."
Her voice, though soft, carried the echo of an empress issuing judgment.
She rose slowly, gazing at the moon's reflection upon the pond. "The spirit energy here is still too thin. The Southern Wilderness cannot sustain true ascension. Perhaps the Tianwu Domain would offer more fertile ground…"
But for now, she remained patient. She could feel the pulse of destiny shifting beneath Qingzhou. Change was coming.
A sudden knock at the gate broke her thoughts.
"Your Highness," came a voice—steady, disciplined, the tone of a soldier. "His Majesty summons you to the Nourished Heart Hall."
Qin Huarong's eyes flickered once with disinterest. Then she turned and vanished, leaving only the faint scent of lotus in her wake.
The Nourished Heart Hall
A hall of gold pillars and dragon-carved beams stretched before her. Behind a vast jade desk sat a man with the bearing of a mountain and the aura of a thunderstorm. His face was weathered, his eyes sharp—King Qin Lu, ruler of the Great Qin Dynasty.
As Zhang Han knelt before him and finished his report, the silence thickened.
Then—"Hmph!"
The king's cold snort reverberated like rolling thunder.
"A mere third-rate overlord force dares to slaughter my people in Great Qin's capital? Insolent worms!"
The air itself seemed to quake. Zhang Han, despite being ninth-level in the Soul Transformation Realm, turned pale under the pressure.
The king's strength… it was far beyond what any rumor claimed.
"If not for the auction tomorrow," Qin Lu said darkly, "the Gu family's ashes would already litter the streets of Fengzhou."
Zhang Han swallowed hard, secretly awed. In the king's eyes, even hegemon clans were trifles.
"Majesty," he ventured carefully, "another matter. The Plume Ascension Dynasty… it has fallen."
Qin Lu's expression did not shift. It was as if Zhang Han had mentioned the weather.
"Oh? And who struck them down?"
"Reports point to the Grand Xu Dynasty."
Qin Lu's gaze sharpened, thin threads of lightning dancing behind his eyes. "The Grand Xu Dynasty?" he repeated, voice low. "Impossible without aid. Someone else's hand guided theirs. Did you sense who?"
Zhang Han nodded uneasily. "I examined the ruins of their royal capital. The lingering aura… was powerful. Terrifying. Not a cultivator of Qingzhou."
"Figures," Qin Lu murmured. "Foreign meddling again. Once the auction concludes, investigate. If outside powers dare intrude on my domain—eliminate them."
His tone was calm, but the promise within it chilled the air.
"Yes, Majesty," Zhang Han said, bowing low before withdrawing from the hall.
As the great doors closed, another presence entered—light as silk yet suffused with authority. Qin Huarong stepped into the golden light of the throne chamber.
"Father," she greeted, her voice like a soft bell, distant and calm.
Qin Lu's stern face softened slightly. He gestured for her to approach. "Ru—ah, Huarong. You came quickly."
Her gaze remained tranquil. "You summoned me."
He sighed. For all his dominance over generals and nobles alike, this daughter left him helpless. Her demeanor carried a weight that belonged to someone far beyond mortal nobility.
"Tomorrow," he said, "the auction begins. You dislike crowds, I know. But this time even the Jun Family of Huangzhou will attend. For your father's sake, I ask that you go."
Qin Huarong inclined her head slightly. "The Jun Family…"
Even in the Phoenix Lotus Dynasty, she had heard of them—ancient bloodline, heirs of an emperor who once forged nine heavens with his blade. To the current world, they were a force rivaling small holy lands.
She understood her father's meaning. Great Qin was strong, but not enough to disregard a colossus like the Jun Family. Her presence would be both symbol and shield—proof of the dynasty's grace and power.
"Very well," she said quietly. "If that will ease Your Majesty's mind."
Qin Lu smiled faintly, relieved. "Good. That is all. You may rest."
Huarong turned to go, her robe whispering like falling snow.
"Ah—Huarong," he began, as if to say more.
But she was already gone.
The king's mouth twitched. A helpless chuckle escaped him. "This child… even I can't win an argument with her."
Had any of his ministers seen their sovereign like this—nervous, uncertain, half-defeated—they would not have believed it.
Truly, too miserable.