Inside the main assembly hall of the Dry-Well Civic Hall, five wealthy border merchants in sweat-soaked silk robes dropped to their knees on the marble floor, holding up a glowing red bronze tablet stamped with four sect emblems.
“Lord Pei! We are ruined! All thirty-six provinces of Great Yan are going to be cut off from the cultivation world!” cried President Wang, head of the Northern Border Caravan Guild, his plump face pale with panic.
Pei Xuan sat comfortably in his padded rattan rocking chair on the raised dais, wearing a clean white robe trimmed with silver thread. On his left stood his four newly promoted Rank 5 Foundation Establishment commanders—Old Wei, Hong Ling, Old Guo, and General Tie Zhan—while Abacus Su stood on his right holding the red-feathered border dispatch.
“Catch your breath first, President Wang,” Pei Xuan said calmly, picking up a peeled green grape from the porcelain plate beside his elbow and popping it into his mouth. “Old Wei, pour our five guild presidents a cup of cold Sweet-Spring mung-bean tea. Now, tell me—what is written on that bronze tablet?”
President Wang gulped down the cup of sweet mung-bean tea Old Wei handed him, feeling his racing heart steady slightly before holding up the red bronze tablet with both hands.
