Chapter 15: Insolence

Qingyun Empire, Imperial Capital.

After several days and nights of traveling without rest, Luo Xingchen, Tie Pipi, Wang Zhengyu, and Little Meow—three people and a cat—finally arrived at the outskirts of the imperial capital.

As one of the most prominent nations within the Northern Xuan Province, Qingyun Empire’s capital was vast and dazzlingly prosperous. Though still some distance away from the city, they could already see the towering, seemingly endless city walls stretching out of sight in both directions—majestic and imposing.

Each city gate extended a road outward, which eventually converged into a broad avenue bustling with people. Vendors lined both sides, conducting brisk business. The scene was the very picture of flourishing vitality.

Judging by appearances alone, the imperial capital seemed even grander than the headquarters of the Supreme Qi Drawing Sect. The sect’s mountain gate was merely a massive stone bearing its name; strictly speaking, there wasn’t even a proper entrance, let alone a gate frame.

Of course, comparing a city to a sect was hardly fair. Moreover, in some sense, Qingyun Empire could still be considered a vassal state to the Supreme Qi Drawing Sect. No matter how impressive the city gates, it remained true that only with the sect’s protection could the empire enjoy peace and stability.

The crowds surged toward the city entrance. Not far from the gates, armed guards kept vigilant watch, inspecting everyone seeking entry. The only exception: cultivators. Beside the main flow stood a dedicated lane for cultivators, and each who passed through couldn’t help but feel a touch of pride—such was the taste of privilege.

Luo Xingchen intended to enjoy this privilege as well, but before he could cross, Tie Pipi spoke up.

“Master, there he is!”

Tie Pipi pointed in a direction.

Luo Xingchen looked but couldn’t discern whom Tie Pipi meant. “Which one?”

“The young master from the Long family—the one who sent men after me.” Tie Pipi replied.

“He’s over there, in front of the carriage, the one on horseback!”

Tie Pipi had never forgotten the man who, over a mere meal, sent people to capture her. Now, seeing him again, she recognized him instantly.

This time, Luo Xingchen saw clearly whom Tie Pipi was referring to—a group of riders. At the forefront, atop a white steed, sat a young man garbed in luxurious robes, his bearing proud and self-assured, radiating an air of authority.

He was Long Xiaomin, eldest son of the Long family of Longmang County.

Two months ago, Long Xiaomin had married a woman from the capital. Yet her family was not powerful; otherwise, Long Xiaomin would never have dared, on his wedding day, to let his lust reign and order Tie Pipi to be seized as a concubine.

Today was his father-in-law’s sixtieth birthday, and Long Xiaomin had brought his wife to pay respects. Outwardly, he appeared triumphant, but inwardly, he nursed a small frustration. He had never ceased thinking of the beautiful maiden from two months prior; yet after all this time, his men had vanished without news, likely meeting some misfortune.

Their fate mattered little to him. What mattered was that the beautiful maiden might never cross his path again.

“A girl of that caliber not becoming my woman—it’s a waste of heaven’s gifts, a violation of cosmic order!” Every time he thought of this, Long Xiaomin felt a surge of annoyance. If only he could meet her here in the capital, he’d gladly trade years of his life for the chance.

Long Xiaomin fantasized.

Suddenly, his years of experience with women made him sense that a beautiful woman was watching him. He turned—and indeed! Looking closely, he realized it was the very maiden he had longed for.

A lascivious smile crept across Long Xiaomin’s face.

To think what he desired would appear before him. Heaven must wish him to have this maiden! He felt he must not squander this divine favor. He signaled, stopping his entourage.

His wife, Yu Hui, poked her head out of the carriage in confusion. “Husband, what’s the matter?”

Long Xiaomin turned to her, smiling. “Stay in the carriage, my dear. I’m going to bring you a younger sister, who will serve us both in the days to come!”

With that, he wheeled his horse and rode toward Luo Xingchen’s group.

Tie Pipi saw his approach, especially the lewd smile on his face, and shrank behind Luo Xingchen, fearful.

“Master, he’s coming toward us!”

Before Luo Xingchen could reply, Wang Zhengyu spoke: “Don’t be afraid, Junior Sister Pipi. Even disregarding our identity as disciples of the Supreme Qi Drawing Sect, here in the capital, he’s just a spoiled heir—he won’t dare cross any lines.”

Qingyun Empire’s laws forbade any armed conflict within a ten-li radius of the capital. Commoners who violated this were immediately imprisoned; cultivators who fought would be dealt with as strength allowed, and if overpowered, the matter would be reported to the Supreme Qi Drawing Sect.

In the Northern Xuan Province, none dared openly challenge the authority of the Supreme Qi Drawing Sect. Thus, no matter what their cultivation level, all within the capital deferred to the sect.

Wang Zhengyu, a native, was intimately familiar with these rules—especially now, with the added security of her sect identity, she felt completely at ease.

While she spoke, Long Xiaomin had already ridden up to them.

“Well, well—two beautiful maidens!” Until now, his attention had been solely on Tie Pipi. Now, up close, he noticed Wang Zhengyu beside her, equally stunning in both looks and figure.

Long Xiaomin’s gaze darted eagerly between the two, his mind conjuring images of himself dalliance with both. The more he imagined, the more agitated he became.

“From now on, both of you are mine. Understand?”

He declared this with arrogant certainty.

But before the words faded, Wang Zhengyu snapped back.

“Are you blind? Can’t you see what we’re wearing?!”

“Clothes?” Long Xiaomin thought clothes were indeed a nuisance, obscuring much beauty. Still, his attention lingered on their attire—it seemed familiar, though he couldn’t recall where he’d seen it.

Wang Zhengyu drew her sword, pointing its tip at his cheek, and said proudly: “Listen well—I am a future powerhouse of the Supreme Qi Drawing Sect. If you dare insult us, believe me, you won’t even know how you died!”

“You’re from the Supreme Qi Drawing Sect?!”

Long Xiaomin’s pupils contracted sharply.

The crowd, which had gathered to watch the spectacle, erupted in surprise. Their eyes turned gleefully toward Long Xiaomin, relishing his misfortune. Clearly a bully in daily life, now he had tried to oppress disciples of the Supreme Qi Drawing Sect.

He had provoked a force beyond his ability to withstand, and deserved whatever came. Such scenes delighted all present.