Chapter 1113

Andrew had not expected things to get this awkward. Nonetheless, he swore that despite the torn stockings, Aspen’s pencil skirt had covered everything. There were no scandalous views or nosebleed-inducing reveals.

However, Aspen clearly disagreed. She changed into a fresh pair immediately, then fixed him with a glare sharp enough to flay skin.

“Quit staring. We’re leaving. I booked a property viewing. We need a place to live, after all,” Andrew said, eager to escape.

As the capital city, prime real estate was not hard to find in Blumedale. Yet, Andrew was not just looking for luxury–he needed somewhere even the Goldings’ assassins and the Haywoods’ schemers would not dare touch.

That was how they ended up at The Sovereign Residences.

Aspen, who had been fuming in silence, finally spoke. “We can’t afford a broom closet here, let alone a house. This isn’t about money–it’s about power and connections. The kind we don’t have.”

“Which is why I called in a favor,” Andrew said.

She scoffed. “Favor? The Sovereign Residences sit on Blumedale’s most powerful geomantic site. The peak residences were blessed by the Grandmaster of Mistveil Peak himself. Owning one ensures great luck for generations!”

Andrew rolled his eyes. “That man is a fraud. If he says the sky’s blue, check for paint.”

Aspen gaped. In Holtrien, Mistveil Peak stood above all–even the nation’s elite bowed to its wisdom. Yet, Andrew dismissed it like a bad horoscope.

Aspen could not fathom how this devil-may-care lunatic dismissed Mistveil Peak so casually.

“I’m sorry, but this is private property. You may not proceed.”

Two robed elders barred their path at the gilded gates of The Sovereign Residences.

Aspen’s pulse spiked, realizing these were not mere guards–they were martial masters. One radiated the aura of a senior grandmaster, while the other’s power was so dense, she could not even gauge it. Nonetheless, she could still easily deduce that this was a semi-martial king, or even stronger.

Stationing such elites as doormen only screamed of the Residences’ unfathomable prestige.

Yet, Andrew just grinned. “Not bad. At least they hire real elites as gatekeepers. I’m… mildly impressed.”

Aspen stared at him like he had sprouted a second head. She thought, ‘Not bad? Mildly impressed? Just how shameless can Andrew be? You’re saying it as if you can really move in!’

“Alright, we’ve seen enough, and you’ve said enough,” she hissed, yanking his sleeve. “Let’s go before you embarrass us further.”

She simply did not understand why Andrew dragged her here.

Andrew chuckled. “What’s the rush? Since I’m here, I’m obviously buying a place. Otherwise, why would I be here?”

Aspen rolled her eyes. ‘Does this bastard ever stop lying through his teeth?’

Just as she was about to mock him, a group of people walked over. Leading them were two figures in crisp military uniforms.

The man stood tall, his chiseled frame and lazy smirk radiating old-money arrogance. However, it was the woman who stole Aspen’s breath. She had stunning facial features and radiated an icy, intimidating aura.

What stunned Aspen most was the single gold star on the woman’s shoulder–she was a major general.

In an instant, Aspen recognized her: Luna Phelan, the second daughter of the Phelans–one of Blumedale’s powerful Three Titan families and the undisputed golden child of Gabo Creek, a once-in-a-generation prodigy.