Wang Xuan did not respond. He stuffed the piece of venison in his hand into his mouth and slowly finished chewing, then casually tossed the bone back onto the plate.
He picked up the remaining half-pot of Mare Milk Wine and took a swig, wiping his mouth.
Then he rose and walked to the window.
Outside Yi Hong Pavilion, the Black Market streets were blanketed in silvery moonlight.
A few scattered Solo Players hurried past with their heads lowered, as though afraid someone might notice them.
The Heavens Tower had descended ten thousand years ago.
Ten thousand years was enough time to crush every order, rebuild it, crush it again, and rebuild it once more.
The Royal Clan stood high above all else, while Solo Players struggled to survive like ants. Were Shen Qingci and Su Wanning's circumstances miserable? There were countless people on this very street who had it worse than them.
This was daily life on Origin Earth Star.
Wang Xuan leaned against the window frame, his gaze sweeping across the bleak street, his expression unchanged. He was no saint who pitied the world, nor had he ever intended to become a savior. Managing himself was already good enough.
"You..."
Shen Qingci spoke, then stopped.
She watched Wang Xuan's back. That silence did not seem like indifference so much as calculation. Her fingers unconsciously plucked the strings, producing a faint twang.
After today, where would they be sent?
At best, they would be given another private room, another bed, another person.
At worst... they would be sent to the Royal Clan members who held a grudge against Wang Xuan. That would be true Hell. They had seen how the Royal Clan treated "gifts." Being skinned alive was considered mercy.
"Just as I said before, I cannot save you."