"Solve it yourself, my ass..." Mu Gui Wuxin swallowed. The tea splashed saliva all over Qian Jin: "You're one of my Flood Torrent Fortress people, the heir no less—how could you not tell me when something like this happens? You think I can't handle it..."

Qian Jin forced an awkward grin, just chuckling dryly. He'd already stirred up quite a bit of trouble for the Flood Torrent Fortress that morning. Although he’d managed to fend off the Blacksmith Guild and the Lei family for now, he knew there would be plenty of unforeseen issues waiting for Mu Gui Wuxin to clean up later.

In a situation like this, adding more trouble to the Fortress? Qian Jin genuinely felt apologetic. No matter how powerful the Flood Torrent Fortress was, taking on three major factions simultaneously would surely be taxing, especially since Uncle Fabredis, the Saint-level expert, wasn't here yet.

"Uncle, I plan to find some time to visit the City Lord's Manor and explain things personally. If necessary, I’ll pay for the medical expenses..."

"Pay medical fees? Does the City Lord lack money? Ah, well! Everyone lacks money..." Mu Gui Wuxin directly grabbed the teapot and took two gulps. "Kid, Li Deyork is the City Lord, after all. You beat up his wife right in front of everyone. Think about it—if you were the City Lord, and Luo Qingqing was beaten outside..."

A surge of anger instantly flared in Qian Jin's chest—beat my woman?

"See your reaction, right?" Mu Gui Wuxin tapped the table with his finger. "So, you should be able to understand the City Lord..."

"Furthermore, your woman already beat the City Lord’s woman, and you crippled his retainer," Mu Gui Wuxin murmured softly. "This matter... if you decide to stand firm, the Flood Torrent Fortress will stand firm with you..."

"Apologizing for hitting someone can be done," Gu Yue Jiaying stated, displaying the commanding demeanor of the matriarch of the house. "After all, Qingqing’s trading company is still in Yongliu..."

Qian Jin frowned slightly thinking of Situ Yixiao. Apologize to that woman?

"It's not about apologizing to that woman," Gu Yue Jiaying said calmly. "It's about formally calling on the City Lord, having a brief chat. From an outsider’s perspective, our Qian Jin has already gone to apologize, and the City Lord’s face is saved. As for Situ Yixiao? That woman doesn't need to be present..."

Qian Jin looked to Mu Gui Wuxin without objection. If it was about discussing the deeds of powerful figures, or sharing insights on combat, he might have something to contribute. But when it came to handling such specific incidents, he was far behind Gu Yue Jiaying’s ability to resolve matters with a simple turn of the wrist.

"That works too," Mu Gui Wuxin nodded. "I was originally planning to host a feast at the Flood Torrent Fortress and invite the City Lord over, but I didn't expect you to be willing to go yourself..."

Qian Jin shrugged indifferently. Going or staying made no difference in his view. If that woman hadn't been so utterly unreasonable today, he wouldn't have bothered offending the City Lord.

But an offense was an offense! Qian Jin didn't carry much psychological burden. Having witnessed the lofty, unreasonable, domineering power and strength of Qian Zhanxuan, Qian Jin was no longer prone to the nervousness he used to feel when facing a City Lord.

"Alright then, I'll go talk to Li Deyork first," Mu Gui Wuxin stood up, grabbing the teapot and heading toward the door. He squeezed through the exit, then turned back to say: "I’ve drunk from the spout of this teapot; I doubt you want it now, do you..."

Qian Jin made a 'please go ahead' gesture with his hand. Mu Gui Wuxin laughed heartily and dashed off with the teapot. Luo Qingqing then whispered softly, "That's the ninth teapot..."

The ninth? Qian Jin looked at Luo Qingqing, baffled. "Does that mean Uncle Mu Gui takes one teapot every time he visits..."

Luo Qingqing nodded. Qian Jin was instantly speechless. Did this uncle have a penchant for collecting teapots?

"The style of the teapot placed out is different every time," Qian Jin couldn't help but ask.

"Yes," Luo Qingqing looked at Qian Jin in surprise. "Do Brother Jin think..."

"This Uncle... doesn't happen to collect teapots, does he? Next time, you place out a teapot exactly like this one..."

Luo Qingqing looked toward Gu Yue Jiaying with a troubled expression. Hearing her, the elder wife said, "We don't have an identical teapot in the house..."

"Just buy one on the street," Qian Jin grumbled. "Let's see what kind of teapot Uncle Mu Gui usually drinks water from, and we'll set out one like that..."

"The most common teapot, ten copper coins," Gu Yue Jiaying pondered briefly. "Or maybe eleven..."

"Then we'll get one like that too," Qian Jin slapped the table. He looked up at the sky, calculating the time—it was nearly time to leave. After all, Jun Wudao’s residence wasn't just next door to the Flood Torrent Fortress.

"I'm going to meet the underground boss of Yongliu City, Jun Wudao. You all carry on," The four girls escorted Qian Jin out of the Flood Torrent Fortress. As he walked through the Fortress grounds, many warriors turned their heads frequently, casting envious glances his way.

Beauties! It was rare enough to have one beauty accompanying you, look at this guy’s ability! Four at once! And they seemed so harmonious.

The powers in Yongliu City had their own defined territories, subtly carving the city up like a cake sliced into several pieces for everyone to partake in.

Although the Wudao Society of Jun Wudao bordered the territory of the Flood Torrent Fortress, their respective grounds were separated by actual roads. Qian Jin took out the invitation again, reconfirming the meeting address was the Wudao Society’s main base, and trotted along on his warhorse.

The difference between a large city and a small city was that the main thoroughfares included a dedicated auxiliary lane for horses and carriages.

Most underground organizations in cities tended to be relatively concealed, but the Wudao Society was completely different from Qian Jin's impression—it operated almost entirely in the open.

Qian Jin looked at the gate of the Wudao Society. It lacked the imposing, iron-blood aura of the Flood Torrent Fortress, nor did it possess the scholarly atmosphere of the War College. Instead, it resembled a massive beast opening its jaws, ready to swallow the world whole! A single glance sent a chill burrowing into one's very marrow.

The two guards standing at the entrance of the Wudao Society also wore matching black warrior uniforms, right down to their belts.

Qian Jin looked at the attire of the two men before him, then down at his own clothes. They were far too similar. If he walked into the Wudao Society wearing this uniform, wouldn't they mistake him for someone coming to provoke them?

"Gentlemen, I am here to see Mr. Jun Wudao," Qian Jin presented the invitation. The stern expressions on the faces of the two guards mostly vanished, replaced by faint smiles as they stood aside. "Mr. Qian Jin, is it? Our Mr. Wudao is expecting you..."

The Wudao Society lacked the usual grand announcements of major factions and hadn't sent anyone to escort him—it differed from other major powers in every aspect.

The architecture inside the Wudao Society was unusual. The walls and floors of the corridors were carved with reliefs depicting the brutality of the Human-Demon Battlefield. The protagonists of these reliefs were ordinary warriors, covered in blood and wielding weapons.

Repeated life-and-death struggles, moments pulled back from the edge of death, comrades falling one after another, the thoughts swirling in moments spent hovering on the precipice of demise—all were etched onto the carvings.

There was no elaborate artistic technique, just plain yet real depictions. Walking through this passage felt like experiencing the entire life journey of that warrior.

Halfway down the path, the Human-Demon Battlefield reliefs disappeared, replaced by scenes of survival in the city—a warrior returning from the battlefield struggling and fighting for footing in the urban sprawl.

Qian Jin began to understand—these reliefs likely chronicled Jun Wudao's life journey. Although the Wudao Society lacked the deep hereditary foundation of other powers, this newly emerged force possessed its own unique aspects.

Passing through the long corridor, Qian Jin’s view suddenly opened up into an enormous, circular great hall. Nearly a hundred members of the Wudao Society, clad in black clothes and tied with black belts, stood inside.

Looking across the room, aside from a single spot of red, there was nothing but members of the Wudao Society dressed in black.

Killing intent radiated outwards! Qian Jin assessed every member present; each exuded palpable killing intent. The weapons at their waists seemed ready to leave their scabbards for a deadly fight at any moment, creating an indescribable aura of slaughter.

Qian Jin’s gaze swept over the crowd, finally settling on that single spot of red among the hundred black figures. Seated on a throne carved from black stone was a man he wasn't intimately familiar with, but had seen before—Jun Wudao!

Yes! That long, ugly, fierce, menacing scar that stretched from the corner of his eye down to his neck—he had only ever seen it on Jun Wudao’s face! When he smiled, the aura of a dark world overlord merged with the scar, unleashing an even more ferocious expression.

Jun Wudao wasn't what drew Qian Jin's eye; the woman standing beside him was. Her slender legs were encased in fiery red warrior attire. A narrow waist and full chest were assets any beautiful woman possessed, and this woman had them in equal measure.

Her exquisitely beautiful face and the air of youth surrounding her proved she was a very, very young girl, perhaps not even old enough to enter the War College.

A dark world overlord is indeed a dark world overlord, Qian Jin nodded slightly. His lover wasn't just stunningly beautiful, but absolutely young! Jun Wudao himself wasn't bad-looking, but that terrifying expression truly marred his appearance.

"Hah!" One hundred Wudao Society members simultaneously let out a roar mixed with suppressed rage. The sound shook the room as if dust was about to rain down, and swords flashed instantly from their sheaths, filling the hall with a sudden chaos of clashing steel.

Qian Jin didn't even lift his eyelids, continuing to survey the surrounding members, nodding with approval: "Mr. Wudao’s Wudao Society certainly has style! The quality of these men is excellent! They look the part..."

Jun Wudao rested his right elbow on the armrest of the black stone throne, lightly tapping his temple with his index finger—a posture both languid and imbued with an indescribable arrogance and dominance. His black eyes assessed Qian Jin as he navigated the forest of blades, nodding repeatedly: "Interesting, truly interesting. I heard long ago that the Flood Torrent Fortress had produced a promising young man. Killing the Evil Moon Angel was impressive, but what’s more impressive is surviving killing the Evil Moon Angel..."

PS: Asking for next month's votes!