Immortality Starts From Making Money.

Seated inside a quiet restaurant, Qiu Yan sat opposite a young man whose calm face revealed nothing.

Her white jade fingers clutched the rim of her teacup, but she barely noticed the steam rising from it.

Her gaze never left the man across from her, and countless emotions flashed across her face like ripples on a disturbed pond.

Her thoughts were in complete disarray.

She had so many questions she wanted to ask, but she didn't even know where to start.

Everything happening before her felt unreal, like a dream she couldn't wake from. Yet, she knew all too well that this was no illusion. It was real.

Mo Jian watched her silently, his expression unchanged.

He raised his cup of spirit tea and sipped it with deliberate calmness, his every movement steady, unhurried.

He was not surprised that she had recognized him.

In fact, he had long prepared for this day. If she hadn't come looking for him, he would have sought her out himself.

The situation in the imperial capital was becoming more complicated with every passing day.

With the dazzling talents that the Dust Valley Sect had revealed during the Assembly Summit, their name would spread like wildfire.

Such brilliance naturally evoked admiration and curiosity, but it also stirred envy and danger.

He could not afford to relax.

They needed strength, but time was too short for them to cultivate and grow as rapidly as their enemies.

That path was impossible.

Therefore, there was only one option left.

They needed allies—powerful ones.

And among the many clans in the capital, the Qiu clan was one of the most important pieces on the board.

Mo Jian had initially hoped that his mother's clan would stand firmly behind him, but that expectation had proven to be nothing more than a wishful thought.

They had chosen otherwise.

As these thoughts passed through his mind, Qiu Yan finally gathered her composure.

Her breathing steadied, and she dared to speak.

"Y-Young master…" Her voice trembled, the sound softer and far more vulnerable than when they had last met in the Southern Region.

She paused, searching his face for even the slightest reaction.

Yet, his calm expression remained like an unbroken lake—smooth, deep, and unreadable.

'What am I expecting to see?' she mused bitterly.

Chiding herself, she straightened her back, letting her usual aloof bearing return.

"Are you the young master of the Dust Valley Sect?" she finally asked.

It was the question that had haunted her since she had discovered his origin.

"Yes." Mo Jian nodded slightly, his tone firm but without arrogance.

"Ah—!" A sharp gasp escaped her lips before she could stop herself.

Even though she had already pieced together the truth, a part of her heart had clung to denial.

Yet hearing him confirm it shattered the last of her resistance.

How could such an immensely powerful force rise from such a backward, forgotten region?

The contradiction was so great that she struggled to wrap her mind around it.

"Are you disappointed?" Mo Jian asked calmly, his voice steady, his words carrying a weight that pressed into her heart.

Qiu Yan blinked, stunned by the bluntness of the question.

She hadn't expected him to ask something so direct.

For a long moment, she sat frozen, truly thinking about it.

Was she disappointed?

The answer surfaced easily.

No. She wasn't disappointed.

She was shocked.

Completely shaken… but not disappointed.

If anything, Mo Jian's prestige in her heart had risen beyond all measure.

He had already towered above his age. To her, his image had soared like a mountain peak piercing the heavens.

If Mo Jian was to tell her right now that he was not of this world, she wouldn't doubt him; she would believe him without hesitation.

"I'm just… surprised," she finally admitted, her voice dropping as she slumped back into her seat, her shoulders loosening slightly.

"I expected as much." Mo Jian inclined his head and took another sip from his tea, his composure unbroken.

Then, almost casually, he asked, "How is the media?"

Qiu Yan's eyes lit up instantly.

His question struck at the very heart of her responsibilities.

Leaning forward, her earlier nervousness melted away as she eagerly explained everything that had happened in his absence.

Unknowingly, a genuine smile spread across her lips as she spoke.

The work had broadened her worldview, allowing her to grasp just how powerful information could be when wielded with skill.

Mo Jian listened quietly, never interrupting.

He had his own people who delivered daily reports to him, but he chose not to silence her.

He allowed her to shine in her role, to feel the weight of her own importance.

When she finished, he nodded slightly.

"Well done."

Warmth spread through her chest.

Pride flickered in her eyes, and she accepted his praise with a small, graceful nod.

"What do you think of the media house expanding into the capital?" Mo Jian asked suddenly, his sharp gaze locking onto hers.

Her eyes widened, and she nearly spilled her tea.

"What!"

"Why are you so surprised?" Mo Jian asked, raising an eyebrow. "Did you think the media house would remain confined to the Southern Region forever?"

Realizing her slip, she quickly composed herself, adjusting her posture. "No, of course not. But I… I didn't think it would be this soon."

"I'm only asking," he said calmly. "I won't move immediately. There are still many things that must be put in place." He paused, his tone turning more deliberate.

"And one of those things is securing the support of your clan."

Qiu Yan froze for an instant.

Though she kept her face calm, inwardly, another wave of shock crashed against her heart.

Now she understood.

She understood how Mo Jian had dominated an entire region despite lacking the overwhelming backing of a great clan.

His foresight was terrifying.

While countless young masters and young misses across the continent depended on their clans' foundations to build their force, Mo Jian had carved his path with wisdom and vision alone.

After a moment of silence, she asked softly, "Do you want to meet him right now?"

Mo Jian shook his head, his tone measured.

"I'm not interested in meeting your clan master. I want to meet the hidden powerhouse behind your clan."

Qiu Yan inhaled deeply, then gave a slow nod.

"I'll have to speak with my father before you can be allowed an audience. But with the fame your sect has earned, I doubt there will be much resistance. If anything, they will be eager to meet you."

Mo Jian inclined his head.

This was the advantage of the Dust Valley Sect's reputation.

At this very moment, countless powers would already be curious, digging into their origins and secrets.

But such investigations meant little to him.

As long as his foundations were strong and his allies secure, no scheme or plot could truly shake him.

And besides, who said he could not weave his own schemes?

"Are you going to meet them right away?" Qiu Yan asked, her voice carrying a trace of unease.

"Yes," Mo Jian replied without hesitation.

"Time waits for no one."