The heavy door of the meditation chamber slid along the wooden track with a dry click. Zhì Yuǎn stopped on the threshold.
A few steps away, Yù Qíng blocked the passage. The First Wife's pale hands were clenched at her own waist. Her face was cast in heavy shadow, her expression completely dark, black eyes fixed on him.
"I can explain," he said, his rustic voice low.
"Explain what?" Her voice cut the air, freezing. "That you were cultivating without me? That you found something dangerous and decided to test it alone? Do you think I wouldn't feel my entire foundation trembling?"
Yù Qíng's tone suddenly lost its coldness. Her voice thinned, scraping against her throat.
"Y-you… thought you might get hurt and wanted to hide from us, my Heaven?" A hot tear slid down the Priestess's face.
Zhì Yuǎn did not hesitate. He took two long strides and wrapped his arms around her. Yù Qíng hugged him back with force, nails digging into his gray tunic as she collapsed into tears and rough murmurs against her husband's broad chest.
"There, there. It's going to be all right," he said. His deep, gentle voice vibrated through his chest, resonating directly with the accelerated beats of his wife's heart. His calloused hand stroked her black hair slowly. "I was only afraid of disappointing you. That's all."
The room stayed silent, the quiet stretching for the time it takes an incense stick to burn. Only her trembling breath filled the space.
"Never do that again. I can't lose you. I only exist for you, my Heaven." Her voice came out muffled, face still buried in his tunic.
Zhì Yuǎn did not answer. Knowing his wife's fanaticism, he knew it was not the time to scold her possessive madness. He simply accepted the guilt in silence, anchoring her in his arms.
"How are the others?" he asked.
"I blocked the energy ripples so they wouldn't worry," Yù Qíng answered, sniffling softly without letting him go. "It was hard to control my reaction, especially in front of Wǎn'er. She's too sharp and dependent. I feel she suspected something was wrong, especially after you spent the entire night away from the room."
Zhì Yuǎn looked at her with one eyebrow raised. You're accusing someone of dependency? he thought. But instinct warned him not to say that out loud, not even as a joke.
"My Wǎn'er is very intelligent indeed," he nodded. Then his tone changed, gaining the weight of absolute certainty. "I found a path. Now I only need to refine the structure until it's viable. But when it works, you can be sure."
He released her waist and raised both hands, holding the First Wife's pale face. His thumbs wiped the tears from her cold skin.
"Nothing else on this plane will stop us," his voice dropped, dominant and heavy. He brought his face closer and gave her a short kiss. "Not on the next one." He kissed her again. "Not on the one after that. Nothing will prevent our eternity together."
Yù Qíng could not hold back any longer. She rose onto her tiptoes and pressed her lips hard against his. Tasting him after the scare she had taken, and hearing words so raw and sweet, only fed the addictive feeling that throbbed in her heart every time she fused with her husband.
Moments later, Yù Qíng felt the atmosphere shift under her spiritual perception.
The sound of quick footsteps echoed inside the room and the dividing door opened.
Ziiiiip.
The wife's icy hands retreated, gently pushing against Zhì Yuǎn's chest. Both turned their faces toward the threshold.
The small woman with oceanic hair kept her fist clenched against her chest. Her mere presence softened the remaining tension in the air when she released a pure sigh of relief at seeing him intact.
"I'm so glad you're back, my god," Bái Wǎn murmured, her voice gentle and soft. "I ended up calming my sisters when the eldest sister slipped out."
She tutted, waving her finger from side to side with childish sweetness.
"I wasn't worried!" Yù Méi's booming voice echoed from inside, shredding the peaceful mood. "And it's not fair that you let Wǎn'er use her Serenity on us without restriction! What if we end up dying of boredom?!"
Zhì Yuǎn laughed quietly at that. He extended his hands, interlacing his fingers with those of the two wives and guiding them back into the room.
"My Wǎn'er's Law is the only one that wouldn't kill even a fly," he commented lightly. "Not even my gentle Yǔ managed to escape when the Law of Rebirth linked itself to that blue fire."
The sliding door closed by itself behind them, sealing the room's energy once more.
As soon as Zhì Yuǎn crossed the threshold, every wife's attention turned to him.
Yù Méi was sprawled any which way on the couch against the wall, dangerously spinning a gleaming runic dagger between her fingers while nibbling on a millennial peach. Near the window, where the pale, cold light of dawn was already beginning to leak through the lattice, Mò Yán and Huáng Bìyù were locked in a silent contest on a Weiqi board. The scarlet, half-lidded eyes of the former diplomat promised that the warrior would never ruin her winning streak.
And Qīng Yǔ was seated in the lotus position on the family's large bed. She was leaning back with her hands braced against the mattress. The fifth wife still held a water-crystal comb in her left hand, interrupted in the middle of the ritual when Bái Wǎn had run out to check the corridor.
"After the Lord purified my bloodline, my fire became far too dense," Qīng Yǔ's celestial voice resonated through the room. "I'm afraid of accidentally melting the firmament, my love."
Before Zhì Yuǎn could correct her, his steps stopped abruptly. The light good humor of being in his wives' presence evaporated, replaced by his usual pragmatism.
"Apparently our little dog has come to bring news," Yù Qíng commented, looking at him.
"Mò Zhōng is already bringing Lián here," he answered with a sigh.
The way he used only the slave's name made the First Wife raise an eyebrow. But soon a mischievous smile took over her perfect face.
As Zhì Yuǎn approached the bed with the two of them, he released Bái Wǎn's hand, expecting her to return to caring for Qīng Yǔ. Yet the "little lotus" was not interested in combs. As soon as he sat on the edge of the wide mattress, Bái Wǎn slid onto him. She settled on her husband's lap, wrapping her slender arms around his waist and burying her face in the man's chest.
"Mmmmmnnn…" She began to purr, vibrating simply from feeling the heat and scent of her god.
He sighed again, defeated by the inexhaustible clinginess of the fourth wife, and began to slowly stroke her oceanic hair.
Moments later.
Toc. Toc. Toc.
Three dry, perfectly measured knocks sounded through the door.
"You can leave our guest with me, Grandfather. Thank you," Mò Yán rose from the desk. The diplomat took the lead, her voice polite yet mortally cold as she approached the entrance.
Outside, Mò Zhōng bowed in silence toward the wood and withdrew quickly from the corridor with soundless steps.
Mò Yán unlocked the door and pulled it open.
Ziiiiip.
Left alone on the cold corridor floor, the woman with red hair and crimson silks had already fallen to her knees. Mèng Lián kept her forehead pressed to the wooden floorboards, hands spread beside her head, perfectly submissive, not daring to lift her gaze to her masters.
Mò Yán stepped aside.
"Enter."
Mèng Lián rose with slow movements. She did not brush the dust from her knees; she simply advanced to the center of the chamber and knelt again on the carpet, forehead low and hands open on her thighs.
Silence stretched. Only the light rustle of Bái Wǎn's fabric broke the quiet.
"Speak."
Mèng Lián inclined her head even lower.
"As ordered by my Lord, all active pieces have been withdrawn. The remaining slaves are already in isolation, scattered across the plane inside concealment arrays. No traces were left."
She paused to measure her next words.
"However… I took the liberty of maintaining the pressure routes and the rumors against the Vault of Ashes. The fire had already been lit. Extinguishing it now would be wasteful. I limited myself to withdrawing only the blades. The rest… I left to burn on its own."
Yù Méi released a low laugh from the couch, approving.
"While retrieving the pieces, I've obtained new information through the intelligence web." Mèng Lián continued. "The Ancestors of the great lineages gathered and established a non-interference agreement. No entity of the Animic Ocean may act outside its main power center, and only under the pretext of protecting the lineage. Beyond that… it will be considered a matter of the current generation."
The air in the room grew denser.
Mò Yán narrowed her eyes. Huáng Bìyù had already stopped looking at the board. Bái Wǎn lifted her face slightly. Meanwhile Qīng Yǔ approached stealthily to embrace her husband's broad back, pressing her full breasts against him.
"In other words… the field is open. The old monsters decided to lock themselves in their nests and observe. Any move we make from now on, as long as it does not directly touch the core of an ancestral lineage, will not be answered by them."
Yù Qíng took a step forward. Her gaze was now cold.
"You made the correct decision. Maintaining the fire while withdrawing the blades… was bold. And intelligent."
Mèng Lián's shoulders trembled slightly.
Yù Qíng tilted her head, the corner of her lips curving into a small smile.
"When all of this is stabilized, you will receive what you so desire. I guarantee it."
Mèng Lián's head jerked up in a start, her red eyes wide as they jumped from Yù Qíng to Zhì Yuǎn. The hunger in her gaze lasted only a moment before she smashed her forehead back onto the carpet.
"This slave thanks her Lady's magnanimity."
Zhì Yuǎn merely nodded once, almost imperceptibly.
"You may withdraw," Mò Yán said.
Mèng Lián touched her forehead to the floor one last time and left in silence. The door closed.
Zhì Yuǎn took a few moments before speaking.
"Bring Jié."
Mò Yán left and returned shortly after.
Lín Jié entered with her usual posture. She stopped three steps away and made a deep bow without kneeling.
"You may raise your face," Yù Qíng ordered.
The administrator's green gaze rose, passing quickly over the wives before fixing again on the floor in front of Zhì Yuǎn, not daring to meet the eyes of the man who made her heart race, still thinking about what he had said the previous night.
"My Lord called," she began in a soft voice.
"The Ancestors' agreement has changed the board," Mò Yán summarized the situation, crossing her arms near the window. "They locked themselves away. As long as we do not touch the core of any main lineage, we have space. But space does not mean total freedom. It only means the current generation will kill each other without the protection of the old guard."
"I need to know—what does our intelligence web already cover?" Zhì Yuǎn asked.
Lín Jié raised her gaze just enough.
"Three of the seven main pill routes already answer directly to Madame Feng. Two jade transport guilds are under controlled pressure. The Firmament Consortium is not yet under our nominal control, but the majority of the council votes have already been compromised. If we push now, we can secure the head seat within a few weeks. However…"
She hesitated for an instant.
"However, if we push too quickly, the clans that still have living Ancestors will catch the scent. Even with the non-interference agreement, they can use the current generation as a blade. And Madame Feng does not yet have a position strong enough to absorb that kind of retaliation without exposing the Lord."
Yù Méi stopped playing with the dagger.
"Then we kill whoever complains."
"No," Mò Yán cut in without looking at her. "Killing now would draw unwanted attention. The objective is not to destroy the board. It is to sit in the highest chair without the Ancestors noticing."
Lín Jié nodded.
"I suggest consolidating what is already burning. Let the Vault of Ashes continue bleeding under the rumors. Meanwhile we strengthen the routes we already control and prepare the internal affairs for when the Lord decides to tighten the noose. Without haste and without exposure."
The room grew quiet.
Yù Qíng watched her husband in silence. Her gaze carried the same question as always.
Zhì Yuǎn took a few moments. Then he stood.
Bái Wǎn slid from his lap without complaining, while Qīng Yǔ retreated onto the mattress. The weight of his body changed the atmosphere of the chamber the moment he took the first step toward Lín Jié.
She did not retreat, but her shoulders tensed. Zhì Yuǎn stopped right in front of her. The difference in size became even more evident. He raised his right hand and held the woman's chin between thumb and forefinger, forcing her face upward.
Lín Jié's green eyes met his.
There was fear there, but it was the fear of her own ruin. The devotion and affection she had spent years pouring into the shadows—wounded by a man who broke from his own ego—had not been extinguished. They had been refined into a hungry fury. Beneath the rigid layers of logic pulsed the same terrifying loyalty, now clamoring to be recognized. And in these few days, the man in front of her had proven to be the only abyss in the world capable of swallowing her life, leaving her on the verge of begging to belong to him.
Zhì Yuǎn kept his thumb pressed against her chin, feeling Lín Jié's skin burn under his touch. He spoke low, the voice directed at the wives, yet the full focus of his presence remained anchored on her.
"Do as she said. Consolidate. Do not accelerate. I want control of the Consortium, but I want Lián clean. Without a single Ancestor looking our way too early."
He released her chin slowly, the movement deliberately unhurried. His fingers slid along the line of her jaw, a trail of heat that left her skin tingling long after he stepped away.
Zhì Yuǎn returned to the bed. Qīng Yǔ clung to his back again while he pulled Bái Wǎn back onto his lap.
Only then did he look again at Lín Jié, who remained motionless, trying to regain control over her own legs.
"You are responsible for the structure. Mò Yán for the surface. Any move that risks drawing direct attention… report to me first."
Lín Jié bowed her head. Her voice came out a little rougher than usual.
"As the Lord commands."
She made a hurried bow, trembling hands hidden in the wide sleeves, and withdrew almost without breathing, forgetting to ask permission, driven by an urgency to escape before her composure collapsed completely. Every step in the corridor was an effort of will, her face burning with a deep flush while the pounding of her heart marked the rhythm of the imminent surrender she could no longer deny.
Yù Qíng approached the bed and sat on the other side of him, leaning her shoulder against his. Her smile was small and satisfied.
"Good," she murmured only for him. "Now all that's left is for you to take her. She definitely wants it."
"Oh, she wants it desperately," Yù Méi's drawling voice echoed from the couch. The youngest sister opened a provocative smile. "The poor thing seems even more restrained than Sister Yán was before she gave in."
Near the window, the diplomat did not blush at the provocation. Instead, Mò Yán merely smiled from the corner of her mouth, scarlet eyes gleaming with hunger as she fixed them on her husband.
"Restraint only makes the fall far more delicious," Mò Yán agreed while licking her lips.
On the other side of the Weiqi board, Huáng Bìyù slowly shook her head. The warrior was not one for chatter, but she could not help an ironic smile as she exchanged a look with Qīng Yǔ, who was burying her face in her husband's back to muffle a conspiratorial giggle. Both knew exactly the abyss that awaited the administrator.
Zhì Yuǎn released air through his nose in a short laugh. His free hand found the First Wife's thigh and squeezed lightly.
Outside the pavilion, the dawn of the middle plane ignored the flames of war. But inside, the family had already decided the next step.