The price climbed with the speed and ferocity of a wildfire jumping from tree to tree. Paddles rose and fell across the hall. Women who had been sitting quietly through ten lots of antiques and artifacts were now bidding with the focused intensity of generals fighting over the last bridge across a river."Five hundred million." Vivienne's voice cut through the noise. Clear. Commanding. Delivered with the calm authority of a woman who expected the room to accept her number and move on.The room went silent for exactly three seconds."Six hundred million." Sophia's paddle rose without hesitation. Her voice carried the same calm authority, aimed directly at Vivienne's ear from three feet away.Vivienne turned her head. Sophia met her gaze. The temperature between the two women dropped low enough to frost the armrests."Six fifty." Vivienne did not blink."Seven hundred." Sophia did not blink either."Seven fifty.""Eight hundred.""Eight fifty.""Nine hundred."The room had stopped breat

Master Draven raised one hand. The chaos subsided like a tide pulling back from shore. He did not need to speak loudly. He never did."A demonstration." He gestured toward the stage. A man walked out from the wings. Broad shouldered. Shaved head. The coiled, patient posture of a fighter who had spent years at the edge of a breakthrough he could not reach. His name was Zhao. One of Draven's most trusted fighters. Peak Tier Eight.Zhao took a single blue pill from the jade bottle, placed it on his tongue, and swallowed. He sat cross legged on the stage, closed his eyes, and began to cultivate.The room held its breath.Within minutes, the air around Zhao distorted. A pressure built from his body outward, pushing against the walls of the hall like an expanding balloon. His aura surged. Climbed. Hit the Tier Eight ceiling, pressed against it, and then broke through with a force that made the chandelier crystals rattle and three women in the fourth row grab their armrests.Tier Nine. In fr

"Cassidy Clarke took a photo of you at the auction. You sitting between two women. She posted it to the Clarke family group chat with a caption calling you a cheating, shameless degenerate." A pause. "Robert has seen it. Serena has seen it. Come home now."The drive back to the Clarke estate was the longest twenty minutes of Ethan's life. The 7.1 billion in his account, the destroyed Graves family budget, the bronze tripod humming with sealed dragon energy in his bag, none of it mattered if he could not survive the next thirty minutes with his mother in law.Robert was waiting in the foyer. He shoved his phone into Ethan's face the moment he walked through the door. The photo.Ethan seated between Vivienne and Sophia. Both women leaning toward him. All three of them clearly comfortable with each other."Look at this!" Robert's voice rattled the chandelier. "Two women! At an underground auction! While your wife sits at home running a company and fighting for this family's survival! You

"I don't care if you see other women." Her voice was flat. Direct. Not cold exactly, but carrying the precise temperature of a woman who had decided what she felt and was not interested in feeling anything else."That was our agreement. You live your life. I live mine. But you will never let it affect this household. You will never embarrass my mother. And you will never give Cassidy or anyone else ammunition to use against this family.""There are no other women, Serena.""I didn't ask." She stepped closer. Her eyes locked onto his. Then she leaned in, close enough that her breath touched his collar, and inhaled.She pulled back. Something flickered behind her eyes. Not anger. Recognition."You smell like Royal Number One perfume." Her voice was quiet. Measured. Each word placed with the surgical precision of a woman who knew exactly what she was smelling and exactly what it cost. "That fragrance runs two million dollars a bottle. Event staff don't wear it."Ethan opened his mouth. T

The tripod shed its disguise the way a snake sheds dead skin.The rust fell first. Then the corrosion. Then the cracks, which turned out to not be cracks at all but seams in a camouflage so ancient and so precise that it had fooled every set of eyes that had looked at the vessel for centuries. The missing handle reformed from blue light. The broken leg straightened and sealed itself. The pitted surface smoothed into polished black metal that reflected Ethan's face back at him with a clarity that made the bedroom mirror look cloudy.What remained was a flawless black cauldron. Compact. Beautiful. Engraved with intricate patterns that spiraled across the surface in lines so fine they looked like they had been etched by a needle guided by a hand that never trembled. And at the center, coiling around the body of the vessel, was a blue dragon that seemed to move when the light caught it at certain angles.Ethan stared at it. His breath caught. His hands hovered above the surface, feeling t