Li Xiang stood on the white jade steps outside the bronze gate, his hands tucked into his sleeves.
His expression was as calm as ever. Only when his fingertips brushed the cool Golden Qilin did a faint, almost imperceptible ripple stir deep in his eyes.
What secret was this thing hiding?
Creak—
Heavy footsteps sounded beside him.
Qin Zhong emerged from the bronze gate, his muscles still slightly tense.
The oppressive atmosphere of the National Treasury, where perception was blocked, clearly did not sit well with a man accustomed to fighting with sweeping, unrestrained movements.
He signed the register by the exit and strode over to Li Xiang.
"Junior Brother, you came out ages ago?" Qin Zhong asked, lowering his voice.
Li Xiang gave a slight nod.
Qin Zhong glanced at Li Xiang's smooth, undisturbed collar. Curiosity flickered in his eyes, then was swiftly suppressed.
He merely nodded at Li Xiang without asking a single question about what he had taken.
Never flaunt your wealth. Never pry into another's fortune.
Those were iron laws of the martial world, paid for in blood.
One careless question here would not only break a taboo but also push his junior brother into a pit of fire. Every major faction had eyes everywhere, and the walls might hide more than ears—they might hide a blade meant to kill.
There'll be time to see Junior Brother's treasure once we're back in the room with the door shut, Qin Zhong thought.
By then, the second group of qualified entrants had assembled.
His master's wife, Ye Wanqing, was cool and noble, while Huang Silang, the new head of the Eight Gates Martial Hall, wore a face as dark as water. This group had qualified to enter the second-class National Treasury. Led by a guide, they filed into