Deep within the opulent Jin Clan estate, Meng Yan sat reclined on a chaise of violet silk, swirling a single, translucent pill between her fingers. The sunlight caught the silver-blue glow of the Pure Flow pill, reflecting in her narrowed, cat-like eyes.
"So, you finally revealed your hand, Yu'er," she whispered, her lips curving into a sultry, predatory smile. "A twenty-percent efficiency leap... you're even more monstrous than you were in my bed."
She popped the pill into her mouth, letting the liquid starlight of the medicinal essence wash through her meridians. A soft, involuntary shiver ran down her spine as the purity of the Qi sang through her veins, though not much for her, but still she was able to feel it. 'So clean... I truly wish he were here. I've learnt a few new meridian-opening techniques that would make even his golden eyes widen.'
Her private musings were interrupted by the heated voices of the Jin Clan elders gathered around a massive sandalwood table nearby.
"It is unprecedented!" Elder Feng exclaimed, holding a bottle of Iron-Blood Essence as if it were a holy relic. "I've tested this on our juniors. Their blood vitality isn't just increasing; it's being purified. The Tang Clan hasn't just returned to the market; they've reinvented it."
"The Pengs are already panicking," another elder added with a gruff laugh. "But the real opportunity isn't just here in Thousand Waves. If we can secure the exclusive distribution rights for the surrounding satellite cities, perhaps even as far as Crimson Iron City, the Jin Clan's influence would triple in a single quarter."
Elder Feng turned toward Meng Yan, his expression becoming serious. "Matriarch, we must move quickly. The Tangs are vulnerable in their logistics. If the Jin Clan provides the escort and the trade routes to the southern provinces, we could turn this 'Pure Flow Pill' into the regional standard. We suggest you speak with Young Master Shen Yu immediately. We need a formal deal signed before the City Lord or someone else gets wind of the true formula."
Meng Yan's eyes glazed over for a second, not with business calculations, but with the vivid memory of Shen Yu's hands.
"I will consider it," she said, her voice dropping to a smooth, melodic purr that made the elders shift uncomfortably. "I'll pay the Tang Estate a visit. I believe Yu'er and I have quite a bit to... discuss regarding our shared 'expansion' plans."
As the elders bowed and retreated, Meng Yan stood up, only to feel a familiar, slick warmth pooling between her thighs. Her breath hitched sharply, her Nine-Yin bloodline reacting to the mere thought of his oppressive, golden aura.
"Oh... not again," she cursed softly, her face flushing with a mix of frustration and hunger. "One thought of him and I'm a mess. I need to change... and then I need to find him."
.
.
.
While the Jin Clan plotted expansion, the Grand Hall of the Peng Clan remained a tomb of suffocating silence. The air, usually heavy with cloying incense, now felt stagnant, thick with the metallic tang of unspoken fear.
The tension in the Peng Clan's Grand Hall thickened, shifting from mere outrage to a cold, paralyzing suspicion. Patriarch Peng Kai stood by the central table, his nostrils flaring as he uncorked a stolen bottle of the Tang Clan's Pure Flow. He wafted the vapor toward his nose, and his expression instantly curdled.
"This scent," Peng Kai whispered, his voice trembling with a new kind of fury. "Zhou, tell me I am hallucinating. Tell me this is not the exact aromatic profile of our own Violet-Vein base."
Elder Zhou, the Head Alchemist of Peng Clan stepped forward, his hands shaking as he took the bottle. He inhaled deeply, and his face drained of all remaining color. "It is identical, Patriarch. The high-note of spirit-marrow, the lingering trace of velvet-leaf... it's the same foundation. But it's as if someone took our masterpiece and stripped away every flaw, every trace of resistance. How? How could the Tangs, who were scavenging for copper a week ago, produce our signature scent with five times the refinement?"
"There is only one way," Peng Kai growled, his eyes narrowing into slits of emerald fire. "We didn't invent that base, Zhou. The Golden Cauldron Merchant Union provided the 'optimized' recipe along with our bulk supplies. We paid them a king's ransom for that exclusivity. If the Tangs are using the same aromatic base but with a superior finish..."
"You think... they betrayed us?" Zhou gasped, the implication sending a chill through the hall. "That the Union sold a 'Perfected Version' to the Tangs behind our backs? Or worse, that they gave us the flawed leftovers while the Tang Clan received the true formula?"
The thought hung in the air like a death sentence. To Peng Kai, the pieces of the puzzle were clicking into a terrifying picture. He didn't know that Shen Yu had meticulously reverse-engineered their scent specifically to trigger this paranoia. He only saw the evidence: the Tangs had the same ingredients, the same scent, but a vastly superior result.
"Those greedy bastards at the Golden Cauldron," Peng Kai spat, his fist clenching so hard the air around it distorted. "They've been playing us. They took our gold to fund their research and then handed the 'Master Grade' to the Tangs to spark a bidding war. They are trying to bleed us both dry!"
"Patriarch, if this is true, we must cut ties!" Zhou urged, his voice frantic. "We cannot fund our own executioner!"
"Silence!" Peng Kai roared, the sound detonating against the vaulted ceiling and shaking the very foundations of the hall. "If we cut ties now, we lose our lifeline. Without the Union's raw materials, our furnaces go cold, and we are left utterly defenseless against the Tang Clan's momentum. No... for now, we swallow this bile."
He turned toward the balcony, his eyes burning with a dark, calculating intensity. "We continue our business with them, but we watch them like hawks. If I find so much as a single thread of proof that those merchant rats are in league with the Tangs, I will go to the Crimson Iron City and burn their Pavilion to the ground, with every last one of them inside."
He paced back toward the central table, his shadow stretching long and jagged across the floor. "And to ensure the Tangs don't snatch another inch of our territory, slash our prices again. Drop them by another five gold coins. Our margins will bleed, but we must retain the loyalty of the lower-end masses, those desperate dogs who fight and struggle for every copper. If we own the mob, we own the city's pulse."
He looked back at the crimson banners being hoisted outside, his heart heavy with a suffocating distrust he dared not voice. He felt the walls of Thousand Waves City closing in, entirely unaware that every desperate move he made, from the reckless price cuts to this new, bitter suspicion, was a string being pulled by Shen Yu from the shadows.
The Peng Clan was no longer merely a competitor; they were a trapped animal fighting a war on two fronts: one against a rival they couldn't outmatch, and another against an ally they could no longer trust.