Dual Cultivation System: The Villainous Servant’s Rise

Chapter 261: The Chen Family Structure! Which Branch Does Xiao Yuruo Belong To?

In truth, Ye Qingxuan wasn’t actually jealous of Lin Jiaomei. Despite her roots in the peripheral regions, she possessed an ironclad pride. If her rival had been a peerless genius from a core-tier sect, she might have felt a prickle of insecurity. But looking at Lin Jiaomei—a woman whose aura practically reeked of being handled by ten thousand men—Ye Qingxuan refused to lower herself to that level.

Still, the woman’s audacity was a nuisance.

The same went for Han Lie. If someone dared to use bewitchment techniques to seduce his woman right in front of him, he wouldn’t just be angry—he’d beat them until their own mother wouldn’t recognize them.

“Hahahaha!”

Han Lie laughed, his eyes bright with amusement. When it came to sharp-tongued barbs, as a master of internet vitriol from his past life, he was confident he wouldn’t lose to anyone in the cultivation world.

“You know, Zizi,” Han Lie said, leaning back comfortably. “I didn’t expect you to have a side that could bicker like a common fishwife.”

“Hmph. What kind of description is that?” Ye Qingxuan asked, though her tone lacked any real heat. “This Palace is not an ascetic who has severed all ties to the red dust. I have emotions. You only find it strange because your experience is lacking.”

She paused, a distant look in her eyes. “In my younger years, I witnessed two Tribulation Transcendence Stage experts arguing until their faces were crimson and veins bulged in their necks, right in the middle of a crowded square. They were spitting insults that would make a sailor blush.”

“Pfft…” Han Lie choked on his own breath. “Alright, you win. My horizons have officially been expanded.”

The thought of those legendary, god-like figures—the Tribulation Transcendence masters who commanded the laws of the world—screaming like street vendors was enough to shatter anyone’s sense of awe.

“Enough chatter,” Ye Qingxuan said, her eyes darkening with a familiar, hungry intensity. “We have work to do.”

Happy times were always fleeting.

Nearly 10 days vanished in a blur of heated cultivation. Under Han Lie’s tireless and diligent “labor,” Ye Qingxuan’s insatiable desires were finally, barely, satisfied.

The sessions had been profoundly fruitful. Han Lie felt his cultivation base surging once more; the boundary of Nascent Soul Stage Perfection was now within reach. If not for the impending auction, he would have stayed in the room for another month to force the breakthrough.

After a final, lingering mandarin duck bath, the two returned to the main suite.

“Zizi, do you want to go out and explore?” Han Lie asked, watching her lounge on the silk sheets with an expression of deep contentment.

“This Palace does not care for public displays. Go if you wish,” she replied after a moment’s thought.

“Not coming? Fine, I’ll be back soon.” Han Lie needed a change of scenery. Staying in the inn was starting to feel like house arrest, and he needed to scout the competition. More importantly, he needed to confirm if this Chen Family was indeed Xiao Yuruo’s kin.

“Take this.” Ye Qingxuan tossed him a spatial jade slip. “If you run into trouble, crush it. This Palace will be there in an instant.”

“Understood.”

He knew she was worried about Lin Jiaomei stalking him. He pocketed the jade and stepped out into the cool night air.

The Ancient Desolate Heaven at night was a marvel. The architectural complexes were bathed in the glow of thousand-year spirit lamps, creating a bustling, neon-lit atmosphere that gave Han Lie a sudden, jarring pang of nostalgia for his modern past.

As he walked, he noticed the gazes. Dozens of female cultivators—young and old—stopped to stare. Their eyes held a mix of infatuation and raw lust. With the Pure Yang Sacred Body thrumming under his skin, Han Lie was effectively a walking beacon of male hormones. Most had the decency to look away when he caught them, but a few bolder ones trailed him at a distance, clearly hoping for a “chance” encounter.

Han Lie ignored them and made his way to a high-end teahouse. He spent a small fortune to secure a soundproofed private room. In any world, teahouses were the primary hubs for gossip and intelligence.

“Daoist, your tea.”

A waiter soon arrived with a steaming pot, his eyes darting around with practiced curiosity. “A gentleman such as yourself coming here alone… I imagine you’re looking for more than just a drink. Is there anything my humble establishment can assist you with?”

“Heh. You’re quick,” Han Lie noted, raising an eyebrow. He didn’t waste time. “I’m new to these parts. I’d like an overview of the Chen Family that rules this grotto-heaven. What can you tell me?”

“Ah, the Chen Family! A tale for the ages!” The waiter’s eyebrows danced. “Please, allow me to enlighten you…”

The waiter’s initial summary matched Ye Qingxuan’s—the imperial lineage of the Ancient Desolate Great Emperor and their subsequent decline. But then he delved into the specifics of their current status.

The truth was harsh. In the cutthroat heartland of the Central Plains, the Chen Family had fallen to second or third-tier status. Their influence was a shadow of its former self.

Then, the waiter moved to the internal power structure. This was what Han Lie had been waiting for.

The Chen Family was strictly divided into branches: the Head Branch, the Second Branch, all the way down to the Ninth.

“Chen Gudao of the Head Branch holds the supreme authority,” the waiter whispered, leaning in. “But he isn’t a tyrant. The Family Council—made up of the heads of the other branches—holds the power to veto. Any major decision needs a two-thirds majority to pass.”

“The structure is robust, Daoist,” the waiter chuckled. “I could talk for three days and not cover half of it. Anything else?”

Han Lie nodded slowly, his heart beating a little faster. He asked the question that mattered most:

“Xiao Yuruo. Do you know that name? Which branch does she belong to?”