Zhang Yinbai's smile was soft, but it sent a chill through the reception hall. The man carried an unmistakable menace—calm, controlled, and lethal. Li Yunqi's eyes narrowed; he had hit with everything he'd intended, and yet Yinbai had taken it as if brushing off a mosquito. Fourth on the Capital Combat Power Ranking, Zhang Yinbai was no empty name. Old Master Zhang beamed with pride—so long as Yinbai stood guard, the family could sleep easy.
Once, before the apocalypse, Yinbai had been a penniless content creator—filming odd short videos and eking out a living. Fate laughed at him: the animal world descended, and he awakened two terrifying talents at once. An SSS-rank magic talent, [Vitality], and an S-rank [Iron Armor]. Those gifts turned a nobody into a top-tier powerhouse overnight. Recently he'd risen to fourth place by single-handedly dispatching four third-order new humans; his reputation was well-earned.
The Yangs, Zhangs, and Lis—the capital's power had gathered around these houses. Li Yunqi and Zhang Yinbai were only the visible muscle; behind them sat the true heritage of their clans. The Li family had Jun Zekai, ranked fifth; the Yangs had recruited several other top-ranked fighters hidden away until a decisive moment. This wedding was not just a social affair—this was a show of force.
Outside the fortress, more dignitaries and delegations poured in. Old Master Yang signaled staff: arrange the visitors in the side pavilions; feast them tomorrow. Tang Xiangui, flushed with triumph, imagined the capital ablaze with celebration—the wedding would be the most splendid event the apocalypse had ever seen. Fireworks exploded that night in a sky so bright it made many mourn the lost world and marvel at a beauty that now belonged only to the powerful.
Morning came and the Yang Family's outer courtyard had been transformed into a city of celebration: a thousand round tables, tens of thousands of chairs, thirty miles kept clear, eight checkpoints manned by heavy troops. One hand, the Yangs flaunted their strength and invited new allies; the other, they defended against any untoward designs. Lanterns, streamers, dragon-and-phoenix paper-cuts—every corner sang prosperity and security. If you wanted to survive in the capital, you learned how to appear useful.
Delegations filed forward with offerings. A representative announced, "Fang Wenhong, Liangzhou Unified Base—gifts: 800 sets of shirts." Another: "Wang Xi of Dachang Granary—500 boxes of purified water." Then Zhou Guangheng from Daping said, almost sheepishly, "Two thousand catties of donkey meat." The crowd erupted. In a world of scarcity, meat was currency; a supplier of donkey meat was suddenly the center of attention. Men crowded Zhou Guangheng, flattering and bargaining for how they might trade for a taste.
The grandest offerings came from the capital's top houses. "Zhang Family—one thousand catties of fish, one thousand catties of beef, three hundred catties of rabbit meat, plus one thousand sets of daily goods." A roar of admiration swept the assembled guests. "Li Family—five hundred catties of chicken, five hundred catties of duck, two thousand catties of pork!" murmurs of envy followed. Food, in this new world, was as much a weapon as a banner of wealth.
Then Old Master Li stepped forward with a smile and, with a dramatic clap, revealed a cube draped in black fabric. It looked at first like a cage. The crowd buzzed with guesses: slaves? trophies? No—if Li had captured a true powerhouse, they would not be moving him like a slave. Curiosity rippled through the audience.
"Open it," Tang Xiangui urged. Old Master Li complied, lifting the cloth. Inside lay a middle-aged man—mouth gagged, hands bound, energy signatures weak. He wore plain clothes and his breath came shallow, but his eyes burned with stubborn defiance. The assembled elders leaned forward, puzzled.
Old Master Li's voice carried over the hush. "You two—have you forgotten? Who collapsed your Tang Family Base?" Tang Xiangui stiffened. The question landed like a stone.
Whispers rolled through the crowd. Who was this man? How had Li found him and dragged him to the capital? Old Master Li continued without hurry: "Did you even investigate properly, Tang Xiangui? This one—this is the man responsible for that collapse. He's the reason your base fell apart."
The hall shivered. For the wedding's glitter, for the fireworks and the meats—suddenly the mood shifted. Pride curdled into alarm. Tang Xiangui's face, usually pale with controlled assurance, tightened. Around him, the top families watched each other like predators measuring appetite. The mystery gift had become an accusation, and in the capital's light, old wounds were reopening.
The ceremony paused on the cusp of spectacle and revelation. A single bound man had been presented not as a trophy, but as evidence—and the implication was clearer than any toast: the Tang family's fall had enemies, and those enemies could be already inside the circle of power.