The news spread through the tea houses, the training grounds, and the market stalls like a wildfire. By late afternoon, the streets leading to the Jade Spring Hall were choked with people.
Commoners, rogue cultivators, and representatives from minor clans stood shoulder to shoulder, their faces a mixture of desperation and curiosity. Most bore the telltale signs of the Peng Clan's failed alchemy, wan complexions, erratic Qi fluctuations, and the hollow eyes of those who feared their path to immortality had been permanently severed.
At the head office of the Hall, Shen Yu stood behind the heavy velvet curtains, flanked by Lixue and Meng Yan. Both women were the picture of stoic elegance, though the subtle, shared glances toward Shen Yu betrayed a loyalty that went far deeper than clan politics.
"Look at them," Shen Yu whispered, his golden eyes piercing through a gap in the curtain. "They are starving for hope. And I am about to feed them a very expensive meal."
