Thousand Faces City.
The Ximen family was holding a clan meeting.
In the early morning, before the sun had fully risen, clan members were already arriving from all directions.
Some flew in directly, while others arrived in high-tech hovercars.
At this moment, a dark grey car wove nimbly through the streets. Inside sat a middle-aged man in his forties, also a member of the Ximen family. He was dressed in a blue business suit, his collar unbuttoned to reveal a silver-grey lining.
His finger slid across the touchscreen of his communicator, pulling up an encrypted channel.
A woman's face appeared on the screen. The background was an ordinary apartment living room with the curtains drawn, leaving the space in dim light.
"Everything is packed," the woman said in a low, trembling voice, her eyes red-rimmed.
"Good. Stick to the original plan. Take the child back to the countryside as soon as possible. I've already made arrangements; someone will meet you when you arrive." The man spoke rapidly, his fingers flicking across the screen to initiate a transfer.
"This is half of my life's savings. It's enough for you and the boy to live on in the future. The child lacks talent and likely won't achieve anything great, and I don't expect him to. Just living a peaceful and happy life is enough."
The woman's tears fell, and she wiped them away haphazardly with the back of her hand.
The call ended. The middle-aged man put the communicator back in his pocket and leaned against the seat, closing his eyes to rest.
The automated driving system took over, the blue digits on the dashboard ticking steadily.
The man's fingers tapped lightly on his knee in a rapid rhythm, betraying his inner turmoil.
Third Young Master Ximen Jiahao had been killed, and the groups sent to hunt the killer had been decimated one after another. Even figures at the level of the Earth Three Immortals had failed to return.
Things were getting stranger and stranger. It felt exactly like those clichéd power fantasy web novel tropes where a villainous family is slaughtered by the protagonist.
As an insignificant minor figure in the Ximen family, he had no desire to become cannon fodder. Thus, he had arranged for his wife and child to flee in advance, and he would look for his own chance to run far away from this trouble.
On the top floor of the Ximen family's main building, a Great Assembly Hall occupied three entire floors. Its interior had been expanded through space-folding magic, making the actual area far larger than the building's physical footprint.
The hall's dome was transparent, with adjustable light transmission. Currently, it was set to a soft, warm white, casting an even glow from above.
The hall was already filled with people, arranged in a tiered arc according to their status within the family.
The front-row seats were larger, with holographic projection interfaces on the armrests. The back-row seats were relatively simple but still equipped with full communication and conferencing systems.
Once everyone had arrived, Ximen Aotian finally made his appearance.
He stepped out from a private passage at the very back of the hall, wearing a black stand-collar coat with a deep purple luster. The fabric was crafted from top-tier protective materials, making it impervious to ordinary attacks.
Everyone stood up simultaneously the moment he entered the hall. Ximen Aotian walked to the primary seat and sat down. The backrest automatically adjusted to his build, and the holographic interface on the armrest lit up, unfurling a pale blue light screen before him.
His gaze slowly swept over the assembled crowd.
The Butler stood behind him, holding a control terminal.
Ximen Aotian raised a hand slightly, and the Butler pressed a button on the terminal.
The holographic projection matrix in the center of the hall activated. Beams of light shot out from the ceiling and floor simultaneously, weaving together in the air to form a 3D image.
The image flickered slightly with faint noise around the edges, as if recorded with long-distance surreptitious equipment and subjected to multiple rounds of transcoding and compression.
In the footage, two people stood in the shadows with their backs to the camera. Their faces were blurred by holographic noise, but their builds, postures, and clothing styles were instantly recognized by everyone present.
It was the Second Miss and the Ninth Young Master.
The voices in the recording were soft and intermittent, but a few key sentences were crystal clear.
"If the third brother doesn't die, our chance will never come."
"I've already made the arrangements. They're outsiders; it won't be traced back to us."
"Once it's done, his body is mine, the artifacts are yours, and the assets will be split equally."
The image froze, then dissipated.
The assembly hall fell into a deathly silence.
Some stole glances at the Second Miss and the Ninth Young Master, while others lowered their heads, trying desperately to minimize their presence.
The Second Miss sat in the front row on the left. Her hair was pinned in a sharp bun, and she wore small communicators in her ears. Her expression remained unchanged; there was even a faint, ambiguous smile on her lips, as if she were watching a farce.
The Ninth Young Master sat in the front row on the right, twirling an electronic pen between his fingers. The pen danced across his knuckles, his face devoid of emotion.
The two were remarkably calm. After all, at their level, keeping their emotions hidden was a basic skill.
In reality, the Second Miss's heart was beating faster than usual, but her expression showed no flaw.
She and the Ninth Young Master had indeed cooperated, finding a group of people to assassinate Third Young Master Ximen Jiahao.
That group consisted of hired desperadoes who had no connection to the Ximen family. Even if caught, they couldn't name their employers.
They had cornered Ximen Jiahao on the wasteland that day and were about to succeed when a long-haired man holding a snow leopard cub suddenly appeared.
The long-haired man hadn't just killed Ximen Jiahao; he had slaughtered everyone she and the Ninth Young Master had sent, leaving no one alive.
The Second Miss glanced at the Ninth Young Master out of the corner of her eye. He was still twirling his pen. Their gazes met for a split second before darting away.
They had both received word that the Earth Three Immortals were dead, their remains completely obliterated.
The Three Immortals were Ximen Aotian's direct confidants, and their strength was among the best in the entire Ximen family. There were few people capable of killing them—you could count them on one hand in all of Thousand Faces City.
Looking at Ximen Aotian's expressionless face, the Second Miss suddenly had a thought so outrageous it felt absurd.
Could the Old Master have done all of this himself?
Had Jiahao and the Three Immortals done something to displease him, so he had them all eliminated?
Though the thought seemed foolish, her father was certainly not a brilliant man; he just had a heavy fist and a heart cold enough.
Eldest Master Ximen Qing sat even further forward than the Second Miss and the Ninth Young Master, right next to the primary seat. At the moment, he looked dazed, as if he had suffered some sort of shock and his mind was elsewhere.
A slight commotion broke out in the hall.
The Second Miss and Ninth Young Master sending assassins after the Third Young Master wasn't actually that big of a deal in the Ximen family. The Old Master's other children had died in similar internal infighting; anyone who wanted to rise had to pull down those ahead of them.
The real reason for the clan members' agitation was that they doubted the authenticity of the video.
The image quality was too poor, filled with noise and blurred edges. The faces were mere patches of color, identifiable only by body shape and clothing.
It looked very much like a fake video.
Could someone be framing the Second Miss and the Ninth Young Master?
Who? Eldest Master Ximen Qing? Or someone from another family?
Or perhaps... the Old Master himself!
Yes, Ximen Aotian was also under suspicion by the clan.
Not every father hoped for their children to prosper.
Over the years, the clan had vaguely sensed Ximen Aotian's malice toward his own children.
The escalation of conflicts between the young misses and masters was often fueled by the Old Master's interference.
No one understood what Ximen Aotian was actually trying to achieve.
Maintaining a balance between his children?
Don't be ridiculous. Balancing is done to stabilize factions, but Ximen Aotian clearly wanted his children dead.
Every time a child died, he would perform a show of being heartbroken and flying into a rage, but afterward, he would go right back to business, continuing to sow discord among his offspring.
And now he had produced a video that looked fake at a glance. What was he up to?
Could he be going senile?
Ximen Aotian, the one being questioned for senility, remained composed, indifferent to the suspicious gazes of his clan members.
So what if the video was fake?
He would just crush these two unfilial children, the second and the ninth, first.
"Father, what is the original source of this video?" Eldest Master Ximen Qing suddenly asked, his tone carrying unconcealed doubt as he challenged the credibility of the information.
Many people looked up at him at once.
They never expected the Eldest Master to speak up for the Second Miss and the Ninth Young Master. Shouldn't he have taken the opportunity to kick them while they were down?
Ximen Qing's expression remained somewhat dazed. Without waiting for Ximen Aotian to answer, he continued, "Father, you might not know this yet, but the Earth Three Immortals have been confirmed dead. Not even a bone was left behind."
The temperature in the assembly hall plummeted. Ximen Aotian's face shifted into an exaggerated display of shock as his suspicious gaze darted around. "How did they die?"
The others present were also alarmed. The number of people capable of killing the Three Immortals was tiny. Had another family secretly interfered?
Ximen Qing watched his father's clumsy performance and could only continue helplessly, "It was the same killer who took the third brother. He killed the Three Immortals too. I suspect he might not be from this world."
Ximen Aotian froze, his expression becoming even stranger.
As Ximen Qing looked at his father, he found him more and more eyesore. This old thing might be powerful, but his brain was an absolute mess.
With such a stupid mind, how had he managed to obtain such power and remain standing at the peak of authority for so many years?
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