It is the second day of the conference at Nightless City, and today, all the new sects are to introduce themselves if they have never attended such a gathering before, and it is a tradition that their host welcomes all those attending. In return for the honour of being invited here, everyone brings gifts for their host.
A host that is not in attendance himself.
Lan Qiren looks around the grand room, a different one to the banqueting hall and the reception room; this is even larger to accommodate the hundreds of guests arriving from all over the country to participate in what will be talked about for a long time, if only about the sheer amount of coin spent on holding such an event.
Each Sect is seated in their own section, and refreshments have been served. There's a quiet hum of low, impatient conversations, of people discussing the event and how much they're looking forward to the coming days, some for the chance to air their grievances to the Chief Cultivator himself, and others in great anticipation of the entertainment days, learning new skills and watching the competition, because even if everyone is gathered here under the fragile veil of friendship, the truth is, the Cultivation world is a cutthroat community of those forever seeking any advantage over their fellow sects.
In that respect, nothing much has changed in their hundreds of years of existence.
The grandeur of this cavernous room is truly overwhelming, especially to the smaller, newer sects who are wowed by simply being here, something Wen Ruohan was no doubt counting on. He's aiming to impress the newcomers and establish his right to his position as the Chief Cultivator - this event is designed to exact a political defeat over anyone seeking to undermine Wen Ruohan and cast doubts on his efficiency. But is that all this is?
One man waving around his manhood in an attempt to establish his dominance over all others?
Lan Qiren does not think so. Years of dealing with the political side of running a Sect, he can easily smell a rat. He hasn't felt comfortable ever since he walked past the gaudy golden gates of Nightless City, and this uneasy feeling has only increased, the longer he is here. And this is only the second day.
This hall is surrounded by tall and wide windows reaching up as high as the ceiling, from which excessively long Wen Sect banners hang down, all the way to the floor. Intermittently red and white, with embroidered flames of gold tipped with red, they tie in nicely with the silk drapes centred in the middle of the domed ceiling to reach the beginning of the walls, interspersed with gold to break up the red and white decoration.
Fresh carnations are woven into garlands and wreaths that adorn the gaps between the banners, and line the sumptuous red carpet that sits upon the floor in a straight path from the magnificent double doors all the way to the throne at the other end of the hall.
The throne that is still currently empty.
Lan Qiren hates that he wished yesterday had been a case of Wen Ruohan genuinely being busy, too busy to keep to his own schedule of hosting his own event, an occasion which should have been better planned for if he could not make the appropriate time to attend it himself. But it's looking like Wen Ruohan simply does not care for propriety.
Someone should say something.
Wen Ruohan's absence is yet another snub, another pointed insult to those who have made sure to attend, who have made sure to be punctual.
The rest of the Wen family, Wen Ruohan's sister, her husband and their two children, and Wen Ruohan's own two sons are seated on platforms lower than the Chief Cultivator's throne, and if none are affected by their leader's tardiness, at least Wen Tang Changpu looks uncomfortably embarrassed.
