The Seven Sisters and Their Hidden King-Chapter 450: The Thoughts of Faith Wood

The situation between Violet and John had become completely chaotic.

Meanwhile...

At the Cinnabar Sect's VIP reception hall, Faith Wood was facing a problem of her own.

In her effort to uncover the identity of Queen Cyan's inheritor, she had tried every trick in the book—subtle persuasion, sweet talk, implied deals.

But no matter what she said or offered, Mark Leonard wasn't budging.

That sly old fox kept smiling politely... but refused to give her even a hint of real information.

Frustrated, Faith finally asked cautiously, "When I was outside just now, I overheard a few of your disciples talking about the inheritor of Queen Cyan's will. Is he... a young man?"

Mark chuckled lightly. "Ha ha, maybe. But they're just guessing. You shouldn't take their gossip seriously."

He kept his tone friendly, but in his heart, he scoffed. Overheard by accident? Please. She was clearly fishing.

Shameless woman.

Faith clenched her teeth. "You don't have to be so guarded with me. We may be from different sects, but we've known each other for years. I think I deserve at least a little respect."

Cinnabar Sect's elixirs weren't just for internal use—they were also sold to other sects, including the Cloud School. Over the years, Faith had visited often, and she and Mark had formed a friendly rapport.

That's why the Cloud School had sent her to investigate this matter.

Mark kept the same smile on his face. "Mrs. Moore, if this was any other issue, of course I'd give you full respect. But when it comes to this particular matter... I hope you'll understand my silence."

He wasn't an idiot.

John wasn't just any disciple—he was the inheritor of Queen Cyan's will. A fated figure. If they could build a solid relationship with him, the Cinnabar Sect would soar to new heights.

If the Cloud School caught wind of this, they'd try to get in on the action—maybe even steal him away.

No way was he letting that happen.

Faith could see she was getting nowhere, but she wasn't ready to give up.

"Mr. Leonard," she said, shifting strategies, "how about this—we stop speaking as representatives of our sects and talk just as individuals."

Mark raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, I'm asking about the inheritor of Queen Cyan's will not as a member of the Cloud School, but just as myself. In exchange, you can name your price."

Mark smirked. "And how exactly is that any different?"

"The difference," she said smoothly, "is that if you tell me, I won't say a word about it to my sect. When I return, I'll tell them I found nothing."

Mark was silent, unimpressed.

Faith continued, desperate to convince him. "If you don't believe me, I swear—"

But she stopped mid-sentence, realizing even that wouldn't work.

Changing her tactic again, she leaned in slightly. "You know... I have a daughter—Violet Moore. If necessary, I can have her leave the Cloud School and join the Cinnabar Sect."

Mark's expression instantly shifted—he finally understood.

"Mrs. Moore... are you suggesting I play matchmaker and introduce your daughter to the inheritor of Queen Cyan's will?" he asked, smiling with amused disbelief.

Faith didn't deny it. "You're a smart man."

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She admitted it outright.

As soon as she'd heard from a disciple that the inheritor was likely a young man under thirty, the thought had crossed her mind.

If Violet could catch his eye, that would be the ultimate win.

She had full confidence in her daughter. Violet's beauty could draw any man's attention—even someone as mysterious as the inheritor.

Mark gave a sly grin. "Aren't you worried he might already be married? Or have a girlfriend?"

Faith shrugged without hesitation. "In the cultivation world, that doesn't matter. As long as someone is strong enough, polygamy is completely acceptable. Mortal rules don't apply to us."

She wasn't wrong.

Outside the Alps Mountain, in the secular world, that might raise eyebrows. But within the cultivation world, power was everything. The strong made their own rules.

As long as you had the strength, you could take ten wives—and no one would dare question it.

That went for female cultivators too. This privilege didn't belong to just men—it belonged to the powerful.

Still, hearing such bold words come out of the mouth of a refined and elegant woman like Faith was... unsettling.

Mark's smile froze for a moment.

Noticing the strange shift in his expression, Faith quickly added, "Mr. Leonard, I'm only speaking frankly. Both Violet and I are well-educated and understand our place."

"I believe you," Mark replied with a chuckle.

Well-educated, huh? And yet you're out here scheming to throw your daughter at a stranger, not knowing if he's even single...

He silently cursed her in his mind but kept his mouth shut. No point stirring up trouble unnecessarily.

Mark was left speechless.

Faith, on the other hand, thought he was the hypocrite. But no matter how he acted, her intentions were clear—she was thinking of her daughter's future.

Even if the inheritor was already married, she still wanted Violet to have a shot.

What if they clicked? What if he actually liked her?

As long as Violet didn't mind—and the inheritor was open to it—then who cared about the rest?

She was a beautiful, intelligent woman—and her way of thinking had always been bold and unconventional.

Clatter! Clatter! Clatter!

Just as the two were in the middle of their conversation, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the corridor.

Then came Violet's voice, sharp with fury:

"Mom! Something just happened outside—I'm about to lose my mind!"