"I'm not sure if I heard you correctly, Patriarch Darius," Patriarch Leander said, his brows furrowing in confusion. "There's only one Quinn Thorne in our clan, and that boy couldn't cultivate at all."
Despite being over 500 years old, Patriarch Leander was far from the stereotypical elder who spent his days in quiet contemplation or solitary cultivation.
His long life had taught him the importance of staying informed about the clan's affairs, especially regarding its talents and potential prodigies.
He had a genuine interest in the clan's successes and shortcomings, believing that knowledge was crucial to its prosperity.
Over the years, he had seen many gifted individuals rise to prominence, but he was also acutely aware of those who struggled.
This curiosity drove him to learn about Quinn Thorne, the son of a strong and loyal elder within their ranks.
Despite his lineage, Quinn had shown no aptitude for cultivation, which had become a point of concern for the clan.
Leander remembered the whispers surrounding Quinn—the hopes pinned on him as the next generation, and the disappointment that followed when it became clear he lacked the necessary talent.
It was a situation that stirred a mix of pity and frustration in him. He often wondered how a child born into such promise could fall so short of expectations.
Yet, as he listened to Darius, he sensed there was more to the story than he had initially thought.
"It is what it is, Patriarch Leander. Our young lady has taken a liking to that boy, trash or not, and we have no say in the matter," Patriarch Darius sighed.
"But if I remember correctly, Lady Aurora is already wed to the Sword Saint. This marriage is unlikely to hold any validity," Patriarch Leander replied.
"The marriage is no more. Our clan has returned the Sword Saint's body to the Morrison clan. They will take care of him while he... recovers," Patriarch Darius said, shaking his head.
The tragic love story between the Sword Saint and Lady Aurora was well known in the city of Lotus Grove.
Sometimes, life simply throws stones at those who are already down on their luck.
"I see. If the two truly desire to be united, who are we to interfere in their destiny? Welcome to our humble Thorne Clan, Patriarch Darius," Patriarch
Leander finally relented with a deep sigh, his once hardened expression softening as he spoke.
As his words echoed across the courtyard, the defensive formation surrounding the clan grounds shimmered, then vanished into the air.
The tension that had gripped the moment lifted, and the doors to the clan's inner sanctum were thrown open in a gesture of warm hospitality.
Guests were welcomed with respectful bows, and the mood shifted swiftly from one of wariness to celebration.
Runners were immediately dispatched, sprinting with purpose to the residence of Quinn Thorne, our op mc, to summon him without delay.
The news of his arrival spread quickly, whispers dancing among the guests in anticipation of meeting the renowned young cultivator.
It didn't take long for Quinn to make his appearance. He stepped into the heart of the gathering like a storm contained within a calm.
His presence alone commanded attention—tall, his features sharp and impossibly handsome, his black cultivator robes gleaming in the flickering light of lanterns that adorned the courtyard.
His dark eyes scanned the crowd, every step deliberate, radiating an aura of confidence and quiet strength.
The air was rich with the scents of fine foods and potent liquor. Laughter rang out, and the lively atmosphere enveloped the clan's courtyard as guests mingled and toasted to the future.
But as Quinn entered, a hushed reverence fell over the gathering, and all eyes turned to him.
Conversations halted as everyone gazed upon the son of the Thorne Clan, a man who, even among cultivators, stood apart.
"You have excellent taste, Lady Aurora," Patriarch Leander said with a proud smile, breaking the silence as he addressed the distinguished woman seated beside him. "The son of my clan, Quinn Thorne, is indeed a strikingly handsome man, and perhaps his lack of talents only add to his appeal."
Lady Aurora, an elegant beauty in her own right, had been observing Quinn quietly since his arrival.
Draped in luxurious silks that shimmered with every movement, she embodied grace and power, her aura suggesting a mastery over the elements.
She nodded, her eyes sparkling with admiration as she spoke softly, yet every word was heard clearly by those around her.
"Indeed, he is," she replied, her voice like music, a smile spreading across her lips.
For a moment, it seemed as though her smile alone brightened the entire scene, making the night feel a little more alive, the air a little warmer.
Her beauty was undeniable, but her calm and measured presence suggested there was far more to her than met the eye.
Aurora was a master of disguise, her serene beauty masking the chaos that brewed beneath.
She had perfected the art of suppressing her emotions, burying them so deep that even the most skilled cultivators could barely sense her true feelings.
But to those who knew her well enough—or wielded enough power—she was nothing more than an elegant, dangerous monster.
"It's good to see you again, Quinn," she said smoothly, rising from her chair with the grace of a noblewoman.
Her smile was warm, but Quinn knew better than to trust it.
She moved quickly, closing the distance between them in a heartbeat, running and throwing herself into the embrace of our malevolent and immensely powerful protagonist.
He caught her effortlessly, his arms closing around her slender frame. To any outsider, it would appear as a tender moment, a reunion between lovers. But he could see through the charade.
"I just realized now that you've always had a talent for acting, my love," he said, his voice laced with amusement.
He didn't bother to speak aloud, instead letting his words ripple through her mind via his divine sense. His eyes glinted, aware of the storm raging within her.
Aurora's smile widened, though it didn't reach her eyes. "I aim to please," she responded in kind, using her spiritual sense to return his message.
Her tone was light, almost teasing, but our op evil mc could feel the seething hatred and hunger for vengeance festering beneath the surface.
He let her continue the charade, knowing full well that her bitterness stemmed from fresh wounds just a week back.
But what did it matter? With the overwhelming power he now wielded, her plotting and scheming were nothing more than gusts of wind against an impenetrable fortress.
He could crush her ambitions with a thought, but instead, he let her play her game, humoring her for now. He had all the time in the world to deal with her—on his terms.
That night, the engagement between them was officially announced. The grand hall was alive with the clinking of glasses and the murmur of conversations, the air thick with anticipation.
The union of two powerful clans was always an event of interest, but this one—this was special.
The marriage was set to take place within the month, and preparations would soon be underway. Both the clans—ancient, wealthy, and influential—would spare no expense.
Invitations would be sent to every powerful figure in the city, each one eager to witness the union of the infamous Lady Aurora and the lucky handsome clown that she was to marry.