The corridor on the second floor was lined with polished wooden planks and carried the faint scent of sandalwood.
Patriarch Lǐ walked with heavy steps. Right behind him followed the leaders of the three largest merchant guilds in the metropolis.
The silence was broken by the mild voice of the Gold Guild's leader.
"As we were saying, the tax on the southern routes rose again this month, Patriarch," the plump merchant commented, walking with his hands clasped over his stomach. His tone was casual, almost friendly. "Keeping the caravans running is now costing twice as much in security. Two of our caravans were attacked just last week."
"The border has always been unstable," Patriarch Lǐ replied, keeping his gaze forward.
"Unstable is a gentle word," retorted the Iron Guild's leader, a man with a hard face marked by scars. "We pay heavy tributes to your clan precisely to keep the scum away from the roads. If the Lǐ Clan no longer has the men or the silver to patrol the main routes, perhaps it's time we reconsider where that money is going."
Patriarch Lǐ forced a calm smile over his shoulder.
The Gold Guild's leader smiled back, but his eyes remained cold.
"Another issue is that, in recent months, the Lǐ Clan has been recruiting far fewer cultivators than usual. And the few who joined seem to be undergoing… rushed training. With the bad news coming from the mines, one has to wonder whether your clan still has the resources and structure to maintain the same level of quality."
Patriarch Lǐ clenched his jaw. Sweat began running down the back of his neck.
He answered both men at once:
"There is no reason for alarm, gentlemen. The foundations of my clan remain unshaken. Today's auction is proof that we still have silver to spare — enough to discard relics just to clear space. And to demonstrate our commitment to the safety of the routes, the patrols will be doubled starting tomorrow morning."
The Gold Guild's leader kept his smile, but his eyes showed no conviction.
Patriarch Lǐ turned his face forward again. The sweat now ran faster.
They finally stopped in front of the heavy wooden door of Private Chamber One.
The city's ruler extended his hand toward the bronze handle, but a pavilion attendant stepped forward and blocked the way with a professional bow.
"Please forgive the interruption, Patriarch Lǐ," she said. "The guests in this chamber have requested absolute isolation until the end of the auction. They cannot be disturbed."
Patriarch Lǐ forced a smile, but the pressure the guilds had placed on his shoulders was already pushing him to his limit.
"There must be a mistake. I am the ruler of this city. I need to discuss an urgent matter with the client."
Soft footsteps echoed down the corridor. The general manager of the Auction Pavilion approached.
"The Consortium does not make exceptions, Patriarch," the manager's voice was polite but firm. "The privacy of our honored clients is absolute. Even you cannot break the isolation without their express authorization."
Patriarch Lǐ looked at the closed door and then at the guild leaders. The plump man from the Gold Guild kept his friendly smile, waiting. Cold sweat ran down the old man's forehead. If he backed down here, the guilds would see that he held no real authority. Adding all the factors, they would not hesitate to stop paying the taxes and fees the next day.
The pressure finally crushed his composure.
"The one inside is my son, Lǐ Wēi!" Patriarch Lǐ's voice rose sharply, breaking the etiquette of the corridor. He pointed a trembling finger at the door. "I demand to speak with him right now!"
Silence fell over the corridor.
The Gold Guild's leader stopped smiling. The other two leaders slowly turned their heads, fixing their eyes on Patriarch Lǐ.
------
Inside Private Chamber One, Zhì Yuǎn leaned his head back against the armchair. A short smile curved the corner of his mouth.
"The old man broke," he murmured. "He just shouted in front of the guilds that his son is inside."
Yù Qíng remained lying on his lap, her eyes closed.
"How foolish," she commented, her tone bored. "He handed them his own neck to cut."
On the side divan, Yù Méi clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth.
"Can't I just open the door and end this already?" the youngest grumbled impatiently. "Listening to an old man whining in the corridor is a waste of time. We don't even need their money."
Mò Yán, who was standing near the glass, shook her head.
"It's not that simple."
Yù Méi frowned.
"So what? Isn't he the ruler of this city? Why doesn't he just order the attendant to move and go in? That way I can handle things my way."
As she spoke, she rubbed her fists together with an eager grin, as if already imagining what she would do if the old man entered the chamber.
Mò Yán glanced at her sideways, her voice clinical.
"Because he's not a fool. This pavilion does not belong to the Lǐ Clan. It's only a branch. The Auction Consortium is a monopoly that spans the entire continent. He might try to intimidate servants, but he won't force his way in. He knows it would bring serious consequences to the clan. Still, I believe the guilds will need a little push to act against him."
Yù Qíng slowly opened her eyes and looked at her.
"So you're going to give them that push."
Mò Yán did not reply immediately. She adjusted the collar of her hanfu, her scarlet eyes still fixed on the corridor. She didn't want to simply watch the chaos. She wanted to actively manipulate the stage she had prepared for her sister and husband to enjoy.
She turned her face toward Zhì Yuǎn. A silent request for permission shone in her eyes.
Zhì Yuǎn understood immediately and gave a small nod, approving her initiative.
Mò Yán lowered her chin, slightly hunched her shoulders, and assumed the reserved posture of a simple secretary. She walked to the mahogany door and placed her hand on the bronze handle.
------
The handle turned without a sound. Mò Yán opened the heavy door just enough to slip into the corridor, then pulled it shut behind her. The lock clicked at her back.
Patriarch Lǐ took a quick step forward. The anxiety on his face was clear — he expected to see his son. What he found instead was a dusty traveler in worn clothes, with ordinary features.
Mò Yán lowered her head in a polite bow.
"My lords. I am Young Master Lǐ Wēi's personal secretary."
Patriarch Lǐ frowned, confused. Before he could speak, Mò Yán continued in a clear, professional voice:
"The Young Master asks for your forgiveness for not being able to receive you at this moment, Patriarch. He asked me to inform you that he needed to sacrifice that first useless lot with a high bid. It was necessary to dispel any suspicion regarding the coordinated price increases we will make on the upcoming items. He sends word that everything is proceeding according to the plan you both devised."
A heavy silence fell over the corridor.
The Gold Guild's leader stopped smiling. The other two leaders slowly turned their heads, fixing their eyes on Patriarch Lǐ.
The woman had just confirmed that the Lǐ Clan intended to inflate the bids to maximize profit. If the clan was resorting to such tactics, it meant their reserves were dry — exactly as the guilds had already suspected from the compromised mines, the rushed recruitment, and the reduced patrols. A clan desperate enough to resort to such tricks was no longer a reliable partner. It was becoming a burden not worth carrying.
The blood drained from Patriarch Lǐ's face. For two seconds, he stood completely pale. When the reality struck — that the woman in front of him had just turned the merchant guilds against his clan — panic turned into blind fury.
"Impostor!" the shout tore through the corridor. The old man pointed a trembling finger at Mò Yán, his voice shrill. "My son would never hire such a filthy, ordinary servant! Who is inside?!"
He took a violent step forward, his hand outstretched as if he were about to grab her by the neck.
Mò Yán showed no fear. She simply bowed her head. In the next instant, she had already slipped back through the door and disappeared into the chamber. Patriarch Lǐ couldn't even follow the movement. The heavy wood slammed shut with a dull thud, and the isolation formations locked once more.
Chaos erupted.
Patriarch Lǐ lunged toward the door, but a thick arm blocked his chest. He turned and found the Gold Guild's leader staring at him with absolute coldness. There was no longer any trace of hospitality in the merchant's eyes — only pure suspicion and contained anger.
The other two guild leaders also stepped forward. The corridor, which until then had maintained a facade of civility, was now filled with open hostility.
Patriarch Lǐ felt the ground disappear beneath his feet. For the first time in a long while, he had no idea how to escape the situation.