Jin Linhua stepped into the room, her presence as graceful as a spring breeze. Her emerald-green eyes shimmered with clarity and intelligence, like twin gemstones catching starlight.
Silken hair of matching jade hue flowed down her back, adorned with a delicate hairpin shaped like a resplendent peacock — its feathers inlaid with multicolored gems that flickered under the candlelight.
She wore a flowing green robe embroidered with intricate sigil patterns, the fabric studded with subtle jewels that captured the light just enough to highlight her elegant form.
Her skin was pale as freshly fallen snow, glowing faintly beneath the lanterns. Though her beauty was undeniable, it was her smile — warm, comforting, and disarmingly gentle — that truly captivated. It carried a light capable of melting sorrow itself.
Yet despite her ethereal grace, there was boldness in her step. A quiet assurance, born not only of her lineage, but her own cultivation. She was a flower grown among spirit stones — beautiful, sharp, and destined never to wilt.
"Does my early return displease you, Father?" Linhua pouted, her voice playful, like a spoiled daughter teasing her doting parent.
The two guards who had moments ago witnessed Mu Liang's execution stiffened again at her appearance. Their hearts trembled in unison.
'Such beauty… like an immortal fairy descended from the heavens.'
'If only... if only I could be the man she chose. Even a single glance from her would be worth a lifetime of service.'
She walked forward with effortless poise.
"Not at all," Jin Qianhao said, stepping forward to embrace her. "Your father has missed you very much."
The guards blinked, stunned. Just moments ago, this very man had healed Mu Liang with fatherly warmth — only to rip off his arm and incinerate him in black flame. Now he laughed joyfully, doting on his daughter like a kindly elder.
'This man… he changes like the wind. One moment, he is mercy incarnate. The next — a nightmare in human skin.'
'To show love after such cruelty... Truly terrifying.'
"Line'r," Qianhao asked with a soft smile, "How is your uncle? All well, I hope?"
"Very well. There were... complications, but we resolved them cleanly," she said with a smile of her own.
"Oh? Did you play a role in the cleanup? Perhaps gain something for yourself?" he asked knowingly.
Linhua's lips curled into a cruel little smile.
"There was a small sect — the Heavenly Lotus Sect. They used to be something in the past, but no longer."
"Their structure was hollow. Outwardly united, but inwardly fractured. We exploited the divide, bribed a few elders..."
Her smile darkened.
"Those who resisted — we eliminated. Then we replaced the elders with our own people. Eventually, even the sect master surrendered. They're now a vassal to Fifth Peak — the Golden Root Terrace."
The guards froze behind her.
'Birds of a feather…'
'To think she looks like a celestial maiden, yet her heart is more venomous than a thousand vipers. Truly, appearances deceive.'
Linhua turned and waved her hand, revealing a crescent-shaped Astral Pouch crafted from deep indigo beast leather, its surface threaded with golden runes. She poured its contents with a shimmer of light.
Resources tumbled forth, spilling across the floor in a neat pile — a miniature mountain of spiritual treasures.
"Moonlight Spirit Grass, Bloodvine Orchid, Heartwood Lotus, Netherweed, Starfire Ore, Dragonbone Amber, Golden Cicada Shell, Raging Flame Marrow Pill..." she recited calmly.
The more Jin Qianhao looked, the brighter the joy in his eyes.
"HAHAHA! Well done!"
"As expected of my daughter. You've made great contributions."
But Linhua shook her head gently. "Without Father's sigils — especially those embedded with your will and false Essence Core — it would have been impossible."
Jin Qianhao waved it off. "These gains are rightfully yours. With the Awakening Ceremony in a few days, you'll need every bit of this for your cultivation."
"Okay, Father."
She willed the Astral Pouch, and the resources began to shrink into translucent phantoms, vanishing back into the pouch with a ripple of spiritual light.
Qianhao's gaze turned thoughtful. "Speaking of the ceremony... there's something important I must discuss with you."
Linhua blinked. "Father, I just returned and already we're talking business?"
She pouted again. "Can we talk over food? I've traveled so far. I'm starving!"
He chuckled. "Yes, yes. My old habits again. Let's eat."
Goldscale Pavilion — Grand Dining Hall
The Goldscale Pavilion's dining hall was a masterpiece of opulence and legacy — a monument to Elder Jin Qianhao's wealth and foresight. Spirit lanterns floated along the beams, their glow soft and perpetual, illuminating walls inlaid with jade veins and golden lines.
Ancient merchant contracts were etched into lacquered panels — a constant reminder of power earned through coin and cunning.
At the center stood a banquet table carved from Ancient Ashenwood, its grain flowing like river tides. High-backed chairs lined either side, regal and unyielding, each embedded with coin-shaped inlays that radiated faint qi signatures of long-dead merchant elders.
The utensils were forged from Heavenly Marrow Iron — a metal so rare that wars had once been fought over a single bar. Here, it merely ladled soup and sliced roast.
Steam curled as dish after dish was brought out:
Grilled Bear Paw glazed with Snow-Honey — smoky, sweet, charred at the edges.
Silver-Spirit Beef Stew — tender enough to melt on the breath, infused with medicinal roots.
Cloudfish in Jade Pepper Sauce — shimmering slices, thin as whispers.
Eight-Treasure Lotus Rice — packed with phoenix dates, qi beans, and spiritual grains.
Roasted Black-Tusk Boar Ribs — glazed with molten spirit salt and fire herb powder.
Wind-Caught Crane Egg Custard — delicate, topped with star-leaf greens.
Glazed Immortal Mushroom Dumplings — rumored to calm the soul and open spiritual sense.
At the table's heart rested a decanter of Green Dawn Wine — a brilliant blue-crystal vessel that sparkled under lantern light. A single sip could mend minor injuries and enhance qi flow.
Jin Linhua sipped gently from her goblet, the peacock feather hairpin in her hair catching the light. Her father, between bites, gave approving grunts. For once, the man who wielded sigils and secrets like blades simply sat and enjoyed his daughter's company.
Yet in this world of cultivation, peace was always just a pause — never permanent.
After the meal, Qianhao set down his wine cup and watched Linhua sip from a cup of spiraling yellow tea.
"How's the tea?" he asked.
Linhua smiled. "This Yellow Spiral Tea is odd. When it's cold, it becomes bitter. But when hot — it's sweet."
Qianhao's eyes glinted. "Much like our trade, wouldn't you say? Some contracts bloom with profit... others wither in loss."
"As merchants, our task is simple: identify the early seeds — promising opportunities — and nurture them. Reap the harvest when it matures."
Linhua tilted her head slightly. Something in his tone hinted at deeper meaning.
Her father's expression turned solemn.
"Let me be direct."
"I'm talking about Zhen Shenyan — your fiancé."