The Eve of the Storm

The guest rooms of the Miteer Auction House were the height of luxury.

The floor was covered in a soft carpet made from the fur of an unknown magical beast, making every step silent. In the air, a delicate, calming incense burned in curls, helping those who practiced Dou Qi to settle their minds and find peace.

Su Chen pushed open the window, and the morning sunlight spilled in, dispelling the last traces of shadow within the room.

For the past two days, he had lived in unprecedented comfort.

The threat from the Jialie Clan seemed to have been completely blocked off by an invisible barrier. There was no longer that feeling of being watched, like needles pricking his back, nor the constant fear of losing his life at any moment.

For the first time, he had the leisure to observe this Wutan City as a mere "resident."

During the day, he would leave the auction house to wander the western part of the city.

From the bustling central market to the chaotic West District, and into the intricate alleys of the slums, he was like a sponge, greedily absorbing every piece of information about this city.

Which shop had the freshest medicinal herbs, which mercenary group held the most power, and which alleyway hosted the most frequent black-market trades.

These seemingly useless scraps of information coalesced in his mind into a three-dimensional map of "Wutan City" that was constantly being refined.

His partnership with Ya Fei had provided him with a protective umbrella.

But this umbrella, in the end, belonged to someone else.

He knew very well that his true foundation remained the ancient Stone Platform hidden deep within his consciousness, along with his "foresight" regarding the future trajectory of this world.

Today was the fifteenth day since he had arrived in this world.

It was also the day he had agreed upon with Ya Fei for that small-scale auction.

And, more importantly... it was the day the plot began.

Su Chen walked along the wide main thoroughfare of Wutan City, his mood carrying a hint of subtle anticipation.

The streets were bustling with crowds and heavy traffic, a scene of prosperity and peace.

Peddlers shouting their wares, mercenaries rushing on their way, and wealthy merchants riding in carriages formed the vivid daily life of this city.

No one knew that a storm capable of changing the fates of countless people was about to erupt in this seemingly calm city today.

Su Chen's destination was a teahouse in the east of the city.

Its location offered a perfect view of the entire main gate of the Xiao Clan residence.

He walked at a leisurely pace, like an ordinary youth full of curiosity about everything around him.

However, just as he was about to cross an intersection:

Rumble...

A dull, rhythmic sound of horse hooves rolled in from the direction of the city gate, growing louder as it approached.

The sound was uniform and precise, carrying a metallic quality that instantly drowned out all the noise on the street.

The pedestrians on the street froze in unison.

Everyone instinctively turned their heads to look toward the source of the sound.

Su Chen's footsteps also came to a halt.

He narrowed his eyes, his heart skipping a beat uncontrollably.

It was here.

A troop of riders was entering the city from the gate with an irresistible air of authority.

Leading them were eight knights dressed in identical moon-white outfits.

The horses they rode were pure white, without a single stray hair, and exceptionally spirited—clearly high-value steeds.

The knights' expressions were cold and arrogant, and the sharp aura they exuded forced the pedestrians on both sides of the street to retreat involuntarily, automatically clearing a wide path.

In the center of the eight knights, a luxuriously decorated carriage moved steadily forward.

On the carriage, an emblem featuring an intertwined silver longsword and a cloud shimmered in the sunlight, radiating an invisible majesty.

Misty Cloud Sect!

Someone in the crowd gasped.

Immediately, suppressed exclamations and whispers spread like wildfire.

"Heavens! It's the emblem of the Misty Cloud Sect!"

"Why would people from the Misty Cloud Sect come to a small place like ours? Could something major be happening?"

"Look at that carriage, what a grand display! The person inside must be a big shot from the Misty Cloud Sect, right?"

"Shh! Keep your voice down! That's a behemoth of the Jia Ma Empire; they aren't people we can afford to offend!"

The discussion was filled with awe and curiosity.

Su Chen blended into the retreating crowd, appearing completely unremarkable.

Yet, his gaze was locked onto the carriage like a hawk.

He knew that the person sitting inside that carriage was the center of this storm.

Nalan Yanran, the personal disciple of the Misty Cloud Sect Master, Yun Yun.

And, a powerhouse at the Dou King level, the Great Elder of the Misty Cloud Sect, Ge Ye.

Such a lineup, arriving in the tiny Wutan City, for only one purpose.

To annul a marriage.

To annul the marriage of the man who would one day make the entire Dou Qi Continent tremble: Xiao Yan.

Su Chen did not linger where he stood.

He turned and merged into the crowd following the carriages to watch the spectacle, trailing at the very end at a leisurely pace.

Like a true bystander, he watched with cold eyes as this historic scene slowly began to unfold.

The carriage procession did not move fast, yet it carried an invisible pressure as it pushed forward.

Wherever it passed, all sound fell silent.

All clamor dissipated of its own accord before that Silver Sword-Cloud Emblem.

Finally.

The procession stopped before a sprawling estate in the east of the city.

The massive black stone gates were ancient and imposing.

Above the lintel, two gilded characters written in a bold, sweeping hand proclaimed the former glory of this clan.

Xiao Clan.

"Hiss... The people from the Misty Cloud Sect are actually here for the Xiao Clan?"

"Now this is going to be a show! Even if the Xiao Clan has declined in recent years, they were once the head of the three great families of Wutan City!"

"Could it be that one of the Xiao Clan's disciples has been scouted by the Misty Cloud Sect? That would truly be a step into the heavens!"

The onlookers around them whispered incessantly, all sorts of speculations filling the air.

No one dared to imagine the worst.

Su Chen had long since slipped away from the crowd, strolling leisurely into the three-story teahouse directly across the street.

He tossed a silver coin to the waiter and requested a private seat by the window on the second floor.

From this position, the view was perfect.

He could clearly see everything happening in front of the Xiao Clan estate.

The curtain of the carriage was gently lifted by a fair, slender hand.

A graceful figure stepped down from the carriage.

It was a young girl dressed in a moon-white, cloud-patterned long dress, roughly the same age as Su Chen.

She was tall and slender, her dark hair cascading like a waterfall.

Her face was a delicate oval, her skin whiter than snow, her brows like distant mountains, her nose dainty, and her lips like cherries—so beautiful that one hardly dared to look directly at her.

Yet, that exquisite face was masked by a layer of cold, haughty arrogance that kept others at a distance.

Her gaze swept over the onlookers who stared with awe and admiration, never once pausing, as if they were merely dust by the roadside, unworthy of a second glance.

She was Nalan Yanran.

Following closely behind, an old man wearing an alchemist's robe with a third-tier alchemist badge pinned to his chest also stepped down from the carriage.

The old man's expression was solemn, and as his eyes opened and closed, the natural majesty of a powerhouse emanated from him.

He was none other than the Great Elder of the Misty Cloud Sect, Ge Ye.

The two stood side by side before the gates of the Xiao Clan.

At that moment, the air in the entire street seemed to freeze.

The heavy black gates of the Xiao Clan remained tightly shut.

No welcome, no greeting.

Only a deathly silence.

On one side, the proud daughter of the Jia Ma Empire's most flourishing sect, arriving with unquestionable authority.

On the other, a fallen clan, once glorious, now keeping its doors shut in silent defiance.

This wordless standoff felt more suffocating than any violent conflict.

The surrounding chatter gradually died down.

Everyone sensed that something was wrong.

This atmosphere did not feel like they were here to recruit a genius; it felt more like... they were here to settle a score.

On the second floor of the teahouse.

Su Chen lifted the teacup before him and gently blew away the floating tea leaves.

His movements were calm and elegant, completely out of place with the tension brewing outside the window.

He watched Nalan Yanran, with her spine of pride, and he watched Ge Ye, whose aura stood as deep and steady as a mountain beside her.

He knew that, at this very moment, the Xiao Clan estate was likely already in a state of utter chaos.

A long while passed.

Ge Ye seemed to be growing impatient.

He stepped forward, a majestic aura belonging to a Dou King radiating from him, faint yet undeniable.

"Ge Ye of the Misty Cloud Sect, accompanied by the Sect Master's personal disciple, Nalan Yanran, has come to pay a visit to the Patriarch of the Xiao Clan!"

The voice was not loud, yet it rang out like a great bell, clearly penetrating the Xiao estate and reaching the ears of everyone present.

Creeeak—

The heavy black gates, which had remained shut for so long, finally emitted a deep, strained groan as they slowly creaked open just a crack.

A faint, almost imperceptible curve of mockery tugged at the corners of Nalan Yanran's lips.

She smoothed her skirt and, accompanied by Ge Ye, stepped forward into the threshold that, to her, symbolized a "stain" upon her reputation.

Bang!

The moment their figures vanished, the gates of the Xiao Clan slammed shut once more.

Everything was now sealed off behind the doors.

Outside, the crowd of onlookers erupted into an uproar.

"They closed the doors! What is going on?"

"The Xiao Clan is showing absolutely no respect to the Misty Cloud Sect!"

"Why do I get the feeling that something sinister is going on here..."

People craned their necks, desperate to catch a glimpse of what was happening inside, but they were met only by the cold, unyielding wood of the gates.

Su Chen did not leave.

He remained seated by the window, leisurely sipping his tea.

He knew that the true climax had yet to arrive.

That earth-shattering declaration, "Thirty years east of the river, thirty years west of the river; do not bully the young because they are poor," still needed a little time to ferment.

He only needed to wait quietly.

Wait for that storm to fully erupt.

Wait for the youth, humiliated to the extreme, to burst through those gates.

Wait for the other opportunity that belonged to him.

Su Chen held the warm teacup, the emerald liquid within reflecting his eyes, which were as dark as ink.

Deep within those eyes, there was not a ripple of emotion.

"The storm has begun."

"And my opportunity is almost here."