THE WALL STREET IMMORTAL

Chapter 3 The Gala of Humiliation

Onyxa fell silent for a moment, her lips parted slightly but no words came out. That golden flash in Li Wei’s eyes had left her momentarily stunned. She blinked repeatedly, trying to convince herself it was merely a reflection of the Brooklyn streetlights through the limousine window. However, the prickle of ice at the nape of her neck felt far too visceral to be a mere trick of the light.

The limousine glided through the frantic pulse of Manhattan traffic. Li Wei stared out the window, observing the skyscrapers that seemed to pierce the dull, starless night sky. To him, this landscape was far more alien than any forbidden forest of his past. This concrete jungle possessed no soul; it was merely a labyrinth of electrical cables and engine exhaust.

"Listen to me very carefully," Onyxa’s voice cut through the silence, her tone reverting to one of cold authority. "We’re being dropped off at the main entrance. You don’t say a word unless someone asks you a question. And if they do, keep your answers brief. Don’t be tacky, don’t gawk like a peasant, and most importantly ... do not mention that orphanage in front of these people."

Li Wei turned his head slowly, adjusting the collar of his suit, which felt like a tightening noose. This synthetic fabric was dreadfully uncomfortable compared to the celestial silks he once wore. "I understand. You require me to be an elegant shadow, do you not?"

Onyxa scoffed, rolling her eyes. "An elegant shadow? Call it whatever you want. As far as the media is concerned, you’re a 'young investor from overseas' partnering with Storm Investments. That’s the narrative I’ve prepared. Do not let it slip that you’re actually just some guy I 'bought' to bail out my family’s assets."

Li Wei offered only a faint smile—a gesture imbued with a depth of meaning Onyxa wouldn't grasp in a thousand lifetimes. He could feel the thrum of energy surrounding them—a chaotic mess of ambition, greed, and anxiety. To a cultivator, dense human emotion was a readable frequency. And tonight, Manhattan was screaming.

As the valet opened the limousine door in front of the opulent Grand Astoria, a barrage of camera flashes struck them like a volley of arrows. Li Wei didn’t so much as blink. He stepped out with such measured, effortless grace that several professional photographers momentarily froze. There was something about the way he stood—so immovable, as if the fiercest gale could not shift him a single inch.

Onyxa took Li Wei’s arm. Her hand was cold and trembled slightly. Li Wei realized that beneath her "Ice Queen" facade, Onyxa was standing on the edge of a precipice. The crushing weight of the board of directors and the company’s debts were gnawing at her very soul.

They swept into the magnificent ballroom. The light from massive crystal chandeliers danced across the polished marble floors. The air was thick with the scent of expensive perfume and premium cigars, mingling with the notes of a soft yet haughty orchestral piece. Amidst the crowd, a man with slicked-back hair and a navy velvet blazer approached them, wearing a smile that failed to reach his eyes.

"Onyxa! The Belle of Wall Street finally makes an appearance," the man exclaimed. His voice was projected loudly, calculated to draw the attention of those nearby. "And ... who is this? I didn’t think you’d be sporting a new 'accessory' this evening."

Onyxa tightened her hold on Li Wei’s arm. "Novaelar. I don’t recall asking for your commentary on my private life."

Novaelar, the crown prince of the real estate consortium that served as the Storm family's primary rival, looked Li Wei up and down with a sneer. "An overseas investor, is he? His face looks more like a refugee who just got a makeover at a discount salon. The suit is decent, but the man inside ... he’s clearly devoid of class."

A few socialites nearby began to whisper, shielding their mouths with champagne flutes. Li Wei remained perfectly still. He was engaged in an act they couldn't perceive: he was 'seeing.' Using a Soul Perception technique that had only recovered about ten percent of its strength, he observed the flow of Qi within Novaelar’s body. He saw dark blemishes in the man's liver—the hallmark of chronic stress and a debauched lifestyle—but what interested him more was the fading financial aura surrounding the man.

"Did you hear me, pal? I'm talking to you," Novaelar stepped closer, his face only inches from Li Wei's. "In New York, when a big player speaks, you’re supposed to bow. Not stand there with a stone face."

Novaelar deliberately tilted the glass of red wine in his hand. With a movement meant to look like a clumsy accident, the deep red liquid splashed directly onto the chest of Li Wei’s white dress shirt.

"Oops. My bad. My hands are a bit slick—signing million-dollar contracts all day tends to make the fingers stiff," Novaelar said with a snicker, followed by the laughter of his sycophants.

Onyxa turned pale. "Novaelar! You’ve gone way too far!"

Li Wei looked down at the red stain on his chest. He could feel Onyxa’s burgeoning rage, her burning humiliation, and Novaelar’s overflowing arrogance. To Li Wei’s eyes, these emotions appeared as a vibrant haze that he could inhale. He drew a deep breath, absorbing the negative energy from the room, transmuting Onyxa’s shame and Novaelar’s hubris into sparks of Qi within his parched soul core.

Rather than reacting with anger, Li Wei smiled. He looked directly into Novaelar’s eyes.

"What are you grinning at? Did that expensive wine spill drive you insane?" Novaelar blustered, though his voice suddenly lost some of its bravado.

Li Wei took a single step forward. It was just one step, yet Novaelar felt as though a massive mountain had just shifted toward him. The air pressure around them suddenly grew heavy, making it difficult for those nearby to draw a full breath.

"A fine vintage," Li Wei remarked, his voice calm yet carrying a resonance that seemed to vibrate in their very bones. "Much like your family’s company, Novaelar. It looks expensive on the outside, but it has already oxidized and is turning to vinegar within."

Novaelar’s eyes widened in shock. "What ... what did you just say to me?!"

"Your debt leverage has already reached 85 percent. Your last three projects in Queens are stalled because of permit issues you covered up with bribes. In two weeks, if the bank doesn't grant a credit extension, you won't even be able to buy a glass of cheap wine on the street," Li Wei spoke with such specific detail, as if he had just read Novaelar's secret auditor's report.

Novaelar’s face shifted from flushed red with rage to a deathly pale. "How ... how do you know about that?"

Li Wei didn't answer. He simply gave him a predatory look—the kind of gaze belonging to someone who had witnessed the rise and fall of empires over hundreds of years. Novaelar instinctively took two steps back, his foot catching on a table leg, and nearly fell if he hadn't quickly grabbed a pillar for support. Cold sweat began to bead on his temples. He felt as though he were standing before a dragon disguised as a man.

Onyxa stared at her husband in disbelief. How did Li Wei know all those secret figures? Even she, deeply embedded in the business world, had only heard vague rumors.

Li Wei ignored Novaelar’s fear and turned to look at Onyxa. "Let’s find a place to sit. This jacket is dirty, but at least the air in here is starting to feel a bit more ... fresh."

As they began to walk away from a still-shocked Novaelar, an old man with long, neatly tied silver hair wearing a very expensive traditional Chinese suit emerged from the shadows of a pillar. The old man wasn't holding a drink; instead, he held a black wooden prayer bead bracelet that emitted the scent of ancient sandalwood.

The old man approached, his footsteps silent on the marble. He politely but firmly blocked Li Wei’s path. His sharp eyes weren't fixed on Li Wei's face, but rather on the ring finger of the young man’s left hand—a rusted bronze ring that looked utterly out of place amidst the luxury of the gala.

"Young man," the old man whispered, his voice trembling with suppressed emotion. "May I ask ... where did you get that ring?"

Li Wei stopped. He recognized this old man’s aura. This was no ordinary human aura; it was the aura of someone who had, more or less, touched the threshold of cultivation, however shallow.

"It's just an old item from my home," Li Wei replied flatly.

The old man shook his head slowly, his eyes brimming with tears. "An old item? That is the Western Heaven Seal Ring. A ring that was supposed to be buried with the Great Master three hundred years ago. Who exactly are you ... and what is your connection to that long-lost lineage?"

Onyxa frowned, looking back and forth between Li Wei and the old man. "I'm sorry, sir, you have the wrong person. My husband is just ...."

"Silence, Miss Storm," the old man interrupted without looking away from Li Wei. "You have no idea who it is you are currently walking with."