A Week Later
The southern region’s capital had regained its forr tranquility, yet beneath the calm surface, a storm of whispers swirled through the streets, tea houses, and marketplaces.
The destruction of the Golden Pavilion and the Seven Talisman Trade Hall still lingered like the fading echo of thunder after a mighty storm.
People spoke of it in hushed tones, casting glances over their shoulders as if the shadows might overhear them.
Of the four once-mighty chambers that had ruled the capital with an iron grip, three now lay in ruin, their influence obliterated almost overnight.
The Thousand Wealth Chamber was the common thread in all of these events—a ghostly blade hidden in a silk sheath.
Their quiet, decisive strikes had shattered giants without so much as breaking stride.
Only the Broken Moon Consortium remained untouched, and everyone knew why.
"They submitted," people would murmur, "They had the wisdom to align with the Thousand Wealth Chamber, and now they thrive."
With the power vacuum left in the wake of the destroyed chambers, the capital’s underbelly seethed with unrest.
Nurous smaller clans and businesses were locked in a silent war, grappling for control of the now-abandoned trade routes and supply chains.
Even though the Thousand Wealth Chamber showed no intention of monopolizing the void left by the Golden Pavilion and Seven Talisman Trade Hall, the hunger for power among the ambitious knew no restraint.
Beneath the surface of normalcy, daggers were drawn, alliances ford and betrayed in a single breath.
Factions maneuvered behind silk curtains, blood was spilled in alleyways, and yet to the common citizen, life continued, seemingly unchanged.
Amid this growing unrest, the Thousand Wealth Chamber proved itself not just ruthless but benevolent.
Water had been restored to the capital—clean, fresh, and abundant.
The poisoned river was no longer a threat, thanks to the Mystic Water Pumping Machine.
The people, parched and anxious only days ago, now drank freely once again.
On the top floor of the Thousand Wealth Chamber, where the golden light of the evening sun bathed the room in a warm hue, Mo Jian stood by a tall window.
The city sprawled beneath him like a living painting, busy and bustling, unaware of the storm clouds he had scattered.
Miss Yang stood before him, her posture stiff with anticipation.
The clean lines of her blue robe rustled softly as she held her breath. Her usually calm face struggled to contain the flicker of excitent dancing in her eyes.
"Miss Yang," Mo Jian’s voice was calm, like still water, yet it carried weight. "You will be responsible for managing the entire southern region. I believe you can do that?"
For a mont, she was stunned. Her eyes widened subtly, her hands clenched at her sides.
Her heart thundered in her chest, a mixture of joy and pressure descending like a mountain upon her shoulders.
This was no minor promotion. This was a defining mont in her life.
She inhaled sharply, controlling her expression. "Young Master, you can trust . I’ll handle it and will never disappoint you," she said, her voice firm, laced with determination.
Mo Jian nodded slightly. "I hope so. You won’t be alone—departnt heads will support you. But you will be accountable. Weekly reports are mandatory. Any discrepancy, and you’ll lose this opportunity... and more."
Miss Yang swallowed hard and bowed. "I understand, Young Master."
"Good," he said. "Tomorrow, the sales of the Common Grade and Standard Grade Spirit Links will comnce. I want the southern region fully mobilized."
Miss Yang smiled slightly, the fire in her eyes burning brighter. "I’ve already started coordinating with other city managers. We plan to saturate the region within a month."
Mo Jian’s spirit link vibrated. Glancing down, he saw a ssage from Qiu Yan. He nodded once and looked up.
"That’s all. You may leave. I await your good news."
With a deep bow and a dazzling smile, Miss Yang turned and exited the room, her footsteps light and full of purpose.
Monts later, the door creaked again and Qiu Yan entered gracefully.
Dressed in a flowing lavender robe embroidered with silver threads, she gave Mo Jian a polite nod. Her elegance was effortless, her gaze sharp as always.
"Young Master," she greeted.
"Miss Qiu Yan, please take a seat," Mo Jian said, gesturing to the plush couch across from him.
She sat down with the poise of a noblewoman, her fingers resting on her lap. "Why did you summon , Young Master? Do you require assistance?"
Mo Jian shook his head. "No, I rely wanted to give you a token of appreciation."
From his storage pouch, he drew out a sleek artifact—a Gold Grade Spirit Link.
It shimred faintly, smooth to the touch, the back adorned with engraved lotus flowers that seed to bloom beneath the light.
He slid it across the table.
Qiu Yan’s brow furrowed in mild confusion.
She reached forward and picked it up carefully, her fingers brushing over its surface. It radiated a refined craftsmanship, both spiritual and aesthetic.
Before she could speak, Mo Jian explained, "This is the Gold Grade Spirit Link. My chamber will begin selling the common and standard grades across the region tomorrow. But this one... is unique."
She tilted her head, intrigued.
"The Gold Grade allows real-ti communication with anyone within the entire southern region."
Her fingers stilled. Her gaze sharpened.
"A communication artifact?" she asked slowly, voice tinged with disbelief.
"Yes," Mo Jian replied with calm pride. "Only a few have this version—those within my core team, the Governor, the sect masters. Now, you."
Qiu Yan was stunned into silence. Her lips parted, but no sound erged. She had seen many high-grade communication talismans—ones used by royal envoys, sect lords—but none with such sweeping coverage.
He handed her a manual. She took it, quickly skimming the contents. As she read, her eyes widened further, and a soft gasp escaped her lips.
"T-this... This could change everything," she whispered.
Mo Jian gave a faint smile. "I told you, you wouldn’t regret siding with us. And this... is only the beginning."
Before she could recover, he took out a second Gold Grade Spirit Link and placed it beside the first.
"This one is for your protector. Keep yourselves connected."
For a mont, Qiu Yan stared at him. Then, she bowed her head slightly. Her voice ca soft, sincere.
"Thank you... Young Master."
Her tone was different—grateful, but laced with a deeper sentint.
She might be a proud leader of the Broken Moon Consortium, but even she knew that her teoric rise had been fueled by Mo Jian’s silent backing.
With the expansion of Ti newspaper into five cities, and the rise in reputation and revenue of her consortium, she had gained prestige and wealth beyond her wildest dreams.
Without Mo Jian, all of it would be a castle built on sand.
"It’s nothing," Mo Jian replied casually, sipping his spirit tea as though he hadn’t just gifted her an artifact worth kingdoms.
Qiu Yan lingered for a mont, then rose and bowed once more. Her heart was complicated, but her resolve was clear.
As she walked out of the room, a quiet promise ford in her heart.
I will repay this debt. No matter what.
The door had barely closed when it opened again—this ti, Zhao Tian stepped in.
His robes were slightly rumpled, his hair tied ssily, eyes sunken with exhaustion. He flopped onto the couch like a man who had fought a thousand battles.
"Is it done?" Mo Jian asked without looking up.
Zhao Tian groaned, letting his head fall back. "Yes. All preparations for the Central Region trip are complete... finally."
Mo Jian nodded, smiling lightly. "You’ll get to enjoy yourself a bit there."
Zhao Tian cracked one eye open and gave him a deadpan stare. "Lie."
Mo Jian chuckled softly and refilled his cup of spirit tea. The amber liquid glowed in the porcelain cup like liquid crystal.
He took a sip waiting for him to continue his report.
"Elder Bai will join us tonight and together with my grandfather. I don’t think we should have any trouble passing through the border." Zhao Tian began slowly after recovering a bit.
Hmm. Mo Jian nodded but did not speak.
"Also, Elder Li Huang has volunteered to go with us." He added.
"Why?" Mo Jian was confused.
They’ve agreed that apart from Elder Bai Delan the rune master. Others will have to wait for the sect’s departure to the central region.
"How would I know. She only said that her research is not progressing and she needs fresh air for inspiration." Zhao Tian replied without worry.
"As for the disciples, two hundred mystic chanic apprentices will join us."
"What about the guards?" Mo Jian asked. Their security was paramount
Although they would have two golden core experts protecting them. The two experts could not be everywhere at the sa ti.
Thus, they needed sufficient guards for protection.
"I’ve arranged for five hundred guards. There fifty Peak Core Refining realm warriors while the others are between interdiate and early stage." Zhao Tian announced.
Mo Jian nodded, pleased with the arrangent.
Even amidst all the calm and order they’d created, he knew their greatest trials still lay ahead. The Central Region was a different beast entirely.
Powerful clans, ancient sects, hidden experts.
But with every plan set, every piece moved, he was ready.
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