Chapter 828. Control the Present (1/2)

Chapter 828: 828. Control the Present (1/2)

"Greetings, Young Master Tyler. The feast has been prepared in your honor. Please, allow us to escort you." The Murong brothers offered their salutations with practiced grace, their smiles warm and their eyes gleaming with a deference that bordered on reverence. Yet neither of them so much as glanced at their own sister, Murong Yue, the Sky Demoness whose very name once shook the continent.

She stood silently at Tyler’s side, her immortal countenance as cold and impassive as a frozen lake, betraying not a single ripple of emotion. It was as if she had become invisible to them, a mere shadow in the presence of their esteemed guest. And Tyler knew well enough that this calculated slight was no accident—it was a message, a subtle reminder that in the main branch’s eyes, even the Sky Demoness meant nothing before the weight of their schemes.

Tyler returned their smiles with a faint, measured nod. "So Lord Murong was already aware of our arrival? How considerate." His tone was light, but inwardly, his thoughts churned. Looks like Sect Master guessed I might leave the sect.

His gaze drifted briefly to Murong Yue, whose phoenix eyes remained fixed upon the distant horizon, as though the brothers before her were no more than common stones beneath her feet.

He cast a sidelong glance at the wives of the Murong brothers, who kept their gazes lowered and their postures demure, as if they were but ornaments adorning the hall. Tyler nearly chuckled to himself. These same women who now appear so obedient and chaste—are they truly the same wild blossoms who surrendered to passion in the depths of night with him? The contrast was jarring, yet deeply amusing.

In the cultivation world, masks were worn as easily as robes, and one could never truly know what lay beneath the surface until the moment of revelation.

Without further delay, they boarded a mid-sized flying chariot, its hull carved from spirit jade and inscribed with glowing array formations that hummed with suppressed energy. The vessel rose smoothly into the misty sky, leaving behind the flying ship where Suzuka, the Sinclair Sisters, Chu Yang, and the two Chu siblings had chosen to remain.

From the window of the chariot, Tyler watched as the main branch compound grew closer—a sprawling citadel of black jade and crimson pillars, its towers piercing the clouds like fangs of an ancient beast. The weight of anticipation pressed upon him, heavy as a mountain.

On the deck of the remaining ship, Chu Kang leaned out, watching the departing craft with undisguised envy. "Our boss is truly favored—even the main branch heirs are rolling out the red carpet for him. Truly remarkable."

He scratched his chin thoughtfully, then turned to Suzuka with a mischievous glint. "But Miss Suzuka, why did you not accompany them? Shouldn’t the boss have brought both of his wives along to such an important gathering?"

Suzuka snorted, flipping her silken sleeves with practiced indifference. "And why should I? Is Hazel not sufficient to represent our side?" Her voice carried a sharp edge, though her eyes betrayed a flicker of hidden calculation. The name of the Sky Demoness rolled off her tongue with a peculiar mixture of respect and rivalry.

Chu Yang pressed further. "Still, it would have been proper for both wives to attend. It speaks to unity, you know. In these noble families, appearances are everything."

At that, Suzuka’s expression hardened like tempered steel. She turned on her heel, her long hair swirling like a banner in the wind. "I am not the boss’s wife... yet," she enunciated each word with deliberate, almost dangerous weight, and strode away without another glance, her robes billowing behind her like storm clouds gathering before thunder.

Chu Yin, her eyes gleaming with the hunger of a gossipmonger, followed closely behind, eager to pry more secrets from the proud swordswoman. The Sinclair Sisters exchanged knowing looks before breaking into soft giggles and returning to their duties, their laughter echoing faintly across the deck like wind chimes in a gentle breeze.

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Instead of heading directly toward the main mansion, the chariot changed its course and descended toward a quiet garden on the eastern side of the Murong Clan.

The garden was filled with red mandarin trees. Their branches were heavy with ripe fruits, and the fragrance of the mandarins mixed with the faint spiritual energy permeating the air. It was peaceful here, completely different from the imposing atmosphere surrounding the main mansion.

At the center of the garden stood a long stone table. Numerous maids in beautiful robes had already prepared various dishes, spirit fruits, wine, and delicacies. They stood respectfully to the side, waiting for their masters to arrive.

Not far from the table, a middle-aged man was picking mandarins from one of the trees.

He wore simple farmer’s clothes, with his sleeves rolled up and a bamboo basket hanging from his arm. There was nothing extraordinary about his appearance. If he were placed among ordinary mortals, no one would imagine that he was the head of one of the most powerful clans in the cultivation world.

Yet the moment the chariot arrived, the atmosphere changed.

The Murong brothers, their wives, and Sky Demoness stepped forward. All of them knelt respectfully before the middle-aged man.

"We greet Father."

The man glanced at them and nodded calmly.

At that moment, Sky Demoness’s stepmother walked over from them. Her expression immediately softened when she saw her husband. She approached him with obvious affection, seemingly intending to help him with the basket of mandarins.

"I am back husband," she said softly.

The man merely nodded.

There was no greeting, no smile, and not even a word of affection.

The woman’s smile froze for an instant.

She lowered her gaze before turning around and walking back toward the table.

Her lonely figure made Tyler raise an eyebrow.

He finally understood something.

’No wonder she is so active than her daughters-in-lae whenever she visits my bed.’

Tyler glanced at the woman’s retreating back and sighed inwardly.

’Cherish your wife, bruh.’