Immortality Starts From Making Money.

"What do you know about the attack?" Mo Jian's voice was calm, yet beneath the surface lay a storm of suppressed fury.

His gaze, like the edge of an unsheathed blade, cut through the room and landed squarely on Qiu Yan.

She flinched inwardly.

Though the room was silent, the air crackled with invisible pressure, thick enough to choke.

The scent of sandalwood from the incense burner in the corner, which usually brought peace, felt stifling now.

Qiu Yan sat straight, but her heartbeat echoed in her ears like a war drum.

Under Mo Jian's terrifying gaze, all the fine hairs on her arms stood on end.

Her body instinctively braced, as though a predator stood before her rather than a young man.

She inhaled deeply, forcing herself to maintain composure.

Her lips parted slowly. "Young Master… like everyone else, I'm also shocked by the sudden attack."

Her voice was steady, practiced. "I've already sent my people to investigate the source, but so far… nothing's come up."

Mo Jian's expression didn't shift. His eyes flicked, emotionless like an ancient statue. This was not surprising to him.

Even the strongest warriors under his command had failed to detect the culprit. Whoever was behind this knew how to hide from the best.

Still staring, he asked, "Who do you think could be behind it?"

The atmosphere slowly relaxed as the sharp edge of his tone softened. The deadly pressure thinned, receding into the background like a looming shadow.

Qiu Yan hesitated. Her brows knitted in thought.

"Young Master," she began cautiously, "I can only think of two forces capable of opposing you."

Mo Jian raised a brow. "Hmm? I'm listening."

"First, the Golden Pavilion," she said, her voice measured. "Their calm and uncaring attitude toward all the recent changes is unsettling. I've known the Pavilion Master since we were young. He was never like this. Something is definitely going on behind those smiling eyes."

Her words were slow but deliberate. Each syllable was weighted with concern and suspicion.

"And the other?"

"The Seven Talisman Trade Hall," she continued. "They present themselves as a modest merchant guild, but their roots are far deeper than they let on. In the Central Region, their influence is vast— and they're known for their madness. Ruthless, patient, and willing to do anything for profit."

Her gaze met Mo Jian's. "Aside from these two, I don't know of any other force that would be crazy or daring enough to challenge your reign."

Mo Jian nodded slowly, absorbing her words like a sponge. "You're right. Those were my thoughts as well."

He rose from his seat, the hem of his robe sweeping the marble floor like a whisper of thunder. "I know each of you Central Region elites has Golden Core experts protecting you. That's no secret."

Qiu Yan remained still. Her face was serene, but her heart skipped. She knew hiding things from Mo Jian was foolish.

"I don't like being passive," Mo Jian continued, his voice dropping to a grave tone. "Since they dare to touch what belongs to me, then they must be prepared for what's to come."

His eyes burned with cold intensity.

"They just poked the hornet's nest."

He stepped closer to the window, watching the city lights flicker in the distance like stars born of civilization. "Starting tomorrow, we turn the people against them."

He turned his head sharply. "I'll arrange some corpses at the edge of the river. You'll capture everything—frame them thoroughly."

Qiu Yan's lips parted slightly. This was war—information war.

"Until we discover who's truly behind it," he said, "we'll bury them under lies and suspicion. The newspapers will paint them as monsters—emotional, painful stories, all believable."

"You know what I mean, right?"

Qiu Yan's heart pounded. "Yes, Young Master. I've already selected the best scholar to spin the story. You can depend on me."

Mo Jian gave a rare nod of approval. "Good. I'll be waiting for good news."

.....

.....

Golden Pavilion

High above the city, on the top floor of a tall tower, the Pavilion Master sat in a room of quiet luxury.

Polished mahogany, silk curtains swaying with the breeze, and the soft rustling of paper scrolls gave the room a scholarly air. But the master himself did not move.

He sat beside the wide, open window, his hand gently cradling a porcelain cup of tea. Below, the city thrived with noise, but none of it reached the heavens where he sat.

"How is it?" he asked calmly, his voice distant.

A tall man, dressed in dark ceremonial robes, bowed respectfully behind him.

"My Lord, the Thousand Wealth Chamber responded swiftly, though they haven't issued any public statement."

The Pavilion Master nodded absently. "As expected. They'll lie low and hunt from the shadows. They always do."

He sipped his tea and placed it down. "How are the people reacting to the water stoppage?"

"Before complaints could rise, the chamber dispatched relief teams. They've appeased most of the citizens already."

The Pavilion Master said nothing. His eyes remained fixed on the crowd far below, as if watching ants scurry in ordered chaos.

He knew Mo Jian would retaliate. That was the boy's nature. This time, it wouldn't be a counterstrike—it would be an onslaught. Silent, brutal, and methodical.

The attendant shifted his weight uncomfortably. He looked hesitant, his mouth opening slightly only to close again.

Finally, he spoke, "My Lord… is it wise to provoke the Thousand Wealth Chamber? What do we stand to gain?"

The Pavilion Master burst into laughter, soft but cold.

"You're right," he said after a pause, "we'd gain nothing—if they failed."

He tapped a finger on the table, a knowing smirk on his lips. "But tell me, what happened when the Rune Masters tried to dismantle the Lightning Wind Carriage?"

The attendant's face darkened. "It exploded. One of the Artifact Masters was killed instantly."

The Pavilion Master's eyes gleamed. "Yes. But imagine the power hidden in that runes. If we decipher it... If we possess it…"

The words hung in the air, intoxicating.

"Greed," he whispered. "Greed is the true cultivator of ambition."

He leaned back. "Let's watch and see how things unfold."

There was a light in his eyes now, faint but burning. A flicker of hope... or ruin.

One thing was certain—if the Thousand Wealth Chamber fell, he would be ready to take their place.

....

....

The Governor Mansion

The Governor sat behind the polished mahogany table reading the latest intel.

"Are these people crazy?" he muttered, throwing the scroll to the table.

He creased his brow.

He could not understand why many would bring trouble upon themselves.

The Thousand Wealth Chamber had already proven they couldn't be messed with. Yet, some foolish and greedy bastard would not learn their lesson.

He was furious.

This was his city, the capital of the Southern Region.

How dare some arrogant, over-pampered bastard try to start chaos once again.

"Are you there?" he asked in a deep, cold voice.

Creak!

The door to the study was pushed open and the old butler entered.

"My Lord," he responded, bowing his head.

"Send our men to find the bastard behind this attack," he said sharply like a deadly blade.

"I want them to be found and rooted out of the city immediately. Do they think I'm a soft persimmon?" He banged the table in annoyance.

"Yes, My Lord. I'll dispatch our spies immediately," the old butler responded and left the room.

From his master's voice, he knew the Governor was truly enraged.

Unlike the first war against the Thousand Wealth Chamber, where the chamber did not have the support of the Governor—

This time around, the Thousand Wealth Chamber had won the Governor, and this war would be far more brutal than the first.

Although the Thousand Wealth Chamber did not make any announcement about their recent attack—

All the clans in the capital knew of it. Why would the running water stop if not for an attack?

Besides, the thunderous sound of the attack on the reservoir was heard by many people.

Also, many fishermen saw dead fish floating in the rivers.

However, for fear of the Thousand Wealth Chamber, no one brought the affair up.

That war had made them know the Thousand Wealth Chamber could handle anything.

Nevertheless, many clans began to warn their clansmen not to irk the chamber during this crisis.

For the Gao Clan and He Clan, their reaction was more exaggerated than the others.

Immediately they learned of the news, they called back all their clansmen and closed their gates.

However, no one found it funny or looked down on them. The terror of the Thousand Wealth Chamber was not something one could overlook.

While the capital was prepared for the impending retaliation from the Thousand Wealth Chamber—

The three most powerful sects in the region received a letter from Mo Jian.

"Those bastards!" the Nine Mountain Sect Master banged his armrest in annoyance.

He could not believe some crazy people would poison water that millions of people depended on just to satiate their greed.

"Hohoho. You all think you can shit on our face without any consequence."

He stood up from his throne and looked in the direction of the capital, his eyes burning with killing intent.