Three years had passed since Wang Jian's arrival on Red Coral Island. The rented courtyard had been transformed from a temporary residence into a fortress of cultivation and depravity. The air inside the main chamber was always thick with the scent of high-grade incense and the lingering, sweet musk of indulgence.
Wang Jian lounged on a wide divan draped in scarlet silks. He was no longer the Mid-Stage Foundation Establishment cultivator who had fled the war; he was now a Late Stage Foundation Establishment expert, his aura dense and terrifyingly stable.
Beside him, nestled into his sides like concubines of an emperor, were Sect Mistress Mu Lianhua and Chen Ying.
They were dressed in attire that would have made the righteous cultivators of the State of Yue suffer a Qi deviation from sheer shock.
