Wen Ruohan climbs up the steps in the secret passageway that leads down to the basement, up to his room. He's exhausted, and yet the thought of sleeping leaves a distasteful feeling in the back of his throat. It is such a waste of time. But as he thinks back to his progress during the night, his hungry thirst for knowledge is appeased a little.
Who would have thought that in learning how to control resentment energy, it would trigger such a strange backlash effect on his own body? He no longer feels hungry, and there are days spent when he does not remember falling asleep. However, such minor sacrifices are worth it to reach his goal.
If these changes are because he is harnessing all of the unfulfilled desires and wishes of those he turns into fierce corpses and making them all-powerful, super soldiers, or not, he is unsure. But he wants an army strong enough to take down the rest of the Cultivation world including the formidable Jin army, the Lan and Nie disciples, and of course, the Jiangs.
Yesterday's surprisingly lucrative suggestion by none other than Lan Qiren himself to tax the Jiangs on their monopoly trade of river routes will help tremendously in funding the war to come, and it certainly will be a boost to bring things forward. It's doubtful whether or not Lan Qiren, with his holier-than-thou attitude and righteous opinions, is aware of how much he single handedly contributed to his own downfall. That thought brings a smile to his face.
He walks to the windows and is surprised to see the sky lightening, the pink creeping over soft lilac hues as the night recedes and the stars fade away, making way for the chariot of the sun in all of his magnificence.
Perhaps, he should change the Wen Sect emblem into that of the shining sun, a huge fiery ball of red, relentlessly climbing the sky until it drives away all the shadows, lighting up each nook and cranny of the earth. Truly, nothing can stop it, nothing could stand in its way. It seems only fitting that since he, Wen Ruohan, is the one bringing such wondrous glory to the Wen Sect, by conquering every single person to stand up to him, that he should be the one to change it.
He can have it announced later today, at some point.
The thought of spending another day in the company of those he deems inferior dampens his mood considerably, made marginally better that he won't have to look at the simpering, pompous face of that Sect Leader Yao any more.
His death was a surprise, for who would have expected an up-and-coming youngish man in good health such as him to suddenly collapse mid-speech?
The healers said he was fine before he died (obviously, since the dying part took his healthiness down a few pegs), but it was a mystery as to how he passed away. Poison is a possibility, but he will wait for more information before mentioning that part to the rest of the sects, who are no doubt already panicking that someone is going to murder them in their sleep.
He rolls his eyes, just because here, in the privacy of his own room, he can do as he pleases. It won't be too long before he can do whatever he wants outside of it as well, but that's in the future. First, he will have to cancel today's scheduled events in lieu of Sect Leader Yao's unexpected demise.
And however welcome that is, he must put forth a minimal show of sympathy, just to prevent a major outcry.
He sighs deeply at the thought of it. No one ever told him how much patience the job of the Chief Cultivator would sap out of him, draining him of charitable thoughts until the only way to get through the pointless and mediocre meetings these days, is to imagine more and more gruesome deaths for those daring to oppose him.
Well, no rest for the wicked, he snickers to himself, amused by taking the old adage literally. And since all of those Sect Leaders won't stab themselves, he prepares to leave the sanctuary of his room.
