The corridor sank into a hostile silence.
The thick arm of the Gold Guild's leader blocked Patriarch Lǐ's chest. The suspicion on the merchant's face was sharp as a blade.
"Does the Patriarch have any explanation for that servant's words?" he demanded, his voice low and filled with threat.
Patriarch Lǐ opened his mouth, cold sweat dripping from his forehead, desperately trying to invent a lie that could save his clan.
It was at that moment that the bronze handle of Private Chamber One exploded.
The heavy wooden door was ripped from its hinges with a deafening crash. Splinters flew across the corridor. The Gold Guild's leader recoiled, raising his arms to protect his face. Patriarch Lǐ froze on the spot.
When the dust settled, Yù Méi stood in the destroyed entrance, casually shaking the dust from her golden dress. Behind her, Zhì Yuǎn remained reclined in the armchair, calmly spinning the black jade medallion between his fingers.
The Patriarch's gaze fell upon the medallion. His pupils contracted violently.
His son had disappeared in the forest.
Elder Gu had stopped sending signals.
Strangers now occupied the main chamber using his family's identity.
The heir was dead.
"You… killed my son!" Patriarch Lǐ's voice exploded, distorted by hatred and despair.
He drew the saber from his waist and charged like a madman, bringing the blade down in a fierce arc toward Yù Méi's neck.
The girl didn't even bother to dodge. With a casual motion, she raised her bare hand and lightly slapped the side of the blade.
Pah!
The impact was so violent that the Patriarch couldn't even hold the hilt. The saber flew from his hand, spinning wildly through the air. Midway through its flight, the Bismuth Alloy blade shattered completely into dozens of colorful, sharp fragments that scattered across the corridor.
Patriarch Lǐ turned deathly pale. The Nascent Divinity in his dantian pulsed frantically with pure terror.
"Mountain Mantle!" he roared.
The Law of Earth condensed around him, forming a solid brown armor of rock.
Yù Méi didn't wait. She clenched her fist and delivered a straight punch to the center of his chest.
Crack!
The sound of stone cracking echoed through the corridor. The earth armor held for a fraction of a second before exploding. The punch pierced through his ribs, turning lungs and internal organs into pulp. He flew backward like a rag doll, slammed violently against the wall, and slid to the floor, vomiting a thick mouthful of dark blood.
Yù Méi walked slowly toward him, tilting her head.
"You resisted the first punch? Not bad…" she murmured, with a bored little smile. "Earth Law proficiency, huh? Tell me, old man… what cultivation realm have you reached? Still at Nascent Divinity, or have you advanced a little further?"
Patriarch Lǐ looked at her, his eyes filled with disbelief and terror. He opened his mouth, but could only spit out more blood.
Yù Méi smiled softly, almost tenderly.
"Goodbye, old man…" she murmured, tilting her head slightly. "Say hello to your son for me, won't you?"
The Law of Rupture flowed into her palm. She brought her open hand down on the top of his head.
Boom.
Patriarch Lǐ's body exploded from the inside out. Flesh, reinforced bones, and the Nascent Divinity disintegrated completely. A red wave of blood, viscera, and bone fragments sprayed in all directions, painting the walls and ceiling of the corridor.
The three guild leaders stood frozen, completely drenched in the Patriarch's still-warm blood. Scarlet drops ran down their faces, while pieces of intestine dangled from their shoulders and hair. None of them dared to move.
The macabre silence was broken by the soft rustle of silk.
Yù Qíng stepped out of the destroyed chamber without even glancing at the pool of blood and viscera spread across the floor, or at the drenched merchants. She walked straight to the youngest and, without a word, raised her hand.
Pah!
The slap rang loudly, striking Yù Méi's rear over the golden dress.
"Ow!" Yù Méi jumped forward, clutching her backside with an exaggerated grimace. "Ow, that stings! Why did you do that, you crazy woman?!"
Yù Qíng crossed her arms, fixing a cold and irritated gaze on her sister.
"You ruined all my fun, you impatient little brat!" the eldest scolded. "Our snow flower prepared the stage perfectly. The guilds were going to devour this clan on their own, forcing that old fool to tear his hair out in despair. It was going to be hilarious… But you couldn't keep your hands to yourself for even a few hours!"
Yù Méi pouted, still rubbing her rear with one blood-stained hand.
"But it was taking too long…" she grumbled, sulking. "I just wanted to finish it quickly so we could leave… I didn't want to waste any more of husband's time…"
Inside the chamber, Zhì Yuǎn let out a low, dry laugh, clearly amused by the childish squabble amid the carnage. Mò Yán, who had come out right behind the eldest, covered her mouth with her sleeve to hide her smile, but her scarlet eyes sparkled with amusement.
The diplomat stopped beside the two sisters, already assuming her serene posture, ready to collect the profits from this mess.
She turned her face toward the blood-splattered wall of the corridor, as if the massacre were nothing more than a minor inconvenience.
The three guild leaders remained paralyzed, covered from head to toe in the still-warm blood of Patriarch Lǐ. In the corner near the destroyed door, the pavilion supervisor and the attendant lay unconscious, victims of pure shock.
The diplomat lowered her head slightly toward Yù Qíng, assuming a perfectly submissive posture. Her voice came out clear, polite, and terrifyingly calm:
"My Lady detests delays, but she is extremely magnanimous," Mò Yán said, raising her gaze to the merchants with a gentle smile that did not reach her eyes. "The Patriarch's lack of manners dirtied our door. We will only charge a small fee for the inconvenience. In exchange, my Lady will spare your lives and the lives of the fallen servants over there. And, in a gesture of pure generosity, my Lady will also leave the city in your hands."
The Gold Guild's leader blinked several times, tears of pure terror mixing with the blood running down his fat face. He swallowed hard, his voice hoarse:
"W-what do you desire?"
Mò Yán smiled even more sweetly.
"Hand over all your spatial rings. And the detailed maps of the Three Central Hegemonies. That buys you the road home."
The three men did not hesitate. With trembling hands, they pulled the rings from their fingers and extended them forward, also emptying their inner pockets in pure desperation.
Yù Qíng took a step forward. The navy-blue silk brushed against the blood-stained planks, but not a single drop adhered to her clothes or skin, as always.
She extended her delicate hand. The three merchants' spatial rings flew directly into her palm. With an indifferent look, Yù Qíng examined the rings for a brief moment.
Without hurry, she kept the best one for herself. With a casual gesture, she tossed the second to Mò Yán, who caught it in the air with a graceful nod and a soft "Thank you, my Lady."
Her gaze then fell on Yù Méi.
The youngest was still pouting, but her eyes sparkled as she stared at the last ring. Yù Qíng let out a long sigh, clearly reluctant, and threw the ring towards her.
Yù Méi caught it in the air with a wide, satisfied smile, completely ignoring her elder sister's unwillingness.
The spoils had been divided.
Yù Qíng turned to the three merchants, who trembled with their heads lowered, and spoke in a velvety, almost gentle voice:
"You are free to go. I suggest you wash your faces before leaving. We wouldn't want you spreading… inconvenient rumors."
Zhì Yuǎn rose from the armchair with calm, adjusting the collar of his gray tunic before turning his back on the blood-soaked and destroyed corridor.
The family descended the stairs and left the Auction Pavilion without looking back. In the western square, the colossal armored carriage already awaited them in the night's shadows. Mò Zhōng held the thick reins, while the copper-scaled beasts snorted impatiently in the cold night air.
As soon as they boarded and the heavy iron-reinforced wooden door slammed shut with a dry click, the atmosphere inside the cabin changed completely.
Yù Méi sprawled lazily across the front seat, lying on her side and stretching her long, shapely legs over the dark velvet. Not a single drop of blood remained on her body — it had been conveniently cleaned away by her husband's hands just moments earlier.
In the back, Mò Yán sat directly on Zhì Yuǎn's lap, settling her thick, soft thighs between his. The flush of excitement still colored her neck and cheeks. Yù Qíng sat beside her husband, leaning her pale back against his broad chest, as if that were the most natural place in the world.
With a faint glow from the green jade ring, Yù Qíng materialized the newly acquired maps on the small center table.
"Choose our destination," Zhì Yuǎn ordered, his voice low and firm.
While Yù Qíng analyzed the maps with narrowed eyes, Zhì Yuǎn raised his hand and brushed a strand of silver-white hair behind Mò Yán's ear. He slowly kissed her flushed cheek, then moved his lips down to her delicate neck, feeling the warmth of her skin.
Mò Yán let out a soft gasp, her body trembling against his. The Yin inside her ignited immediately with her husband's approval.
Yù Qíng's pale finger stopped over a seal on the far south of the map.
"Celestial Mirror Hegemony," she murmured, her velvety voice laced with malice.
Before Zhì Yuǎn could respond, Mò Yán completely lost control. Her trembling hands of desire grabbed his face and neck. Blinded by lust, the diplomat began kissing him with wet, desperate hunger — first on his jaw, then down his neck, sucking and nibbling the warm skin. Her agile hands slid downward, urgently undoing the ties of his gray tunic, baring her husband's muscular chest in the warm dimness of the cabin.
Yù Qíng watched everything with a sweet and dangerous smile. She leaned her head on Zhì Yuǎn's shoulder, brushing her lips against the bared chest that Mò Yán had just revealed, while her hand possessively slid across his abdomen.
"I like the name," she whispered, her voice overflowing with desire. "I truly wish to see how a celestial mirror looks after being shattered…"
Zhì Yuǎn let out a low, rough chuckle. His large hand slid down to Mò Yán's waist, pulling her firmly against him and feeling her soft, plentiful curves press tightly against his body.
"Celestial Mirror it is, then."
He raised his hand and knocked twice on the cabin wall.
Outside, Mò Zhōng snapped the reins. The iron wheels crushed the stone pavement, and the armored carriage departed relentlessly southward, swallowing the night.
The theater of mortals had ended.
The abyss now headed toward the capital of justice.