The air felt suffocating. No, from the moment he set foot in the grand hall, even the act of breathing had become an arduous task.

Hwang Sae-ak was not a faint-hearted man. If he were, he would never have founded the Danju Association—a significant faction in the northern Jianghu—under the glaring eyes of the Nine Great Sects and the Five Noble Families.

Yet, the iron will that had earned him his reputation had begun to crumble the instant he entered this hall.

Swallowing dryly, he kept his head still and shifted his eyes to survey his surroundings.

The word extravagant seemed to exist solely to describe places like this.

The ceiling and walls were adorned with red and white silk, drawing one’s gaze with their brilliance. Ornate decorations and exquisite porcelain were arranged in dense displays, each item looking more expensive than the last. Even the pillars in the center of the hall were intricately engraved with golden patterns.

He wasn’t even sure if the emperor’s palace could surpass such opulence.