On the Dark Planet, three horse-drawn carriages carrying Velvet Crave petals, along with the steward’s carriage, silently advanced toward the factory. The forest road stretched endlessly into the late night, gray mist crawling low along the ground like living smoke, coiling around wheels and hooves. The wind slipped through ancient tree canopies, producing thin, drawn-out whistling sounds that resembled mournful whispers clinging from behind.

  The wheels ground against the damp, cold earth and stone, creating a heavy, persistent crunch. Each rotation seemed to crush the silence itself. The faint clink of reins brushing together and the steady pounding of hooves — dry, dull, and soulless — echoed far ahead before rebounding from the darkness on both sides of the forest.

  In the moonless sky, flocks of black crows and demon-faced bats circled above the convoy like shifting patches of shadow. Red eyes flickered on and off beneath the low cloud cover, like countless silent gazes watching. Occasionally, the sharp flap of wings sliced through the air and dropped close to the carriage roofs, causing the atmosphere to tighten.

  Below, the servants holding the reins barely dared to breathe. Their breaths came out in white clouds in the freezing air, their backs soaked with sweat despite the biting cold. It felt as though if they dared to look back, they would see something walking right behind the convoy within the thick fog.

  One servant holding the reins whispered to the man beside him:

  – “I’ve got a bad feeling. It’s like someone’s watching us.”

  The other quickly glanced over his shoulder. Behind them was nothing but dense forest, tree shadows layered upon each other like countless black arms stretching outward.

  – “You’re imagining things. I don’t see anything. Anyone would get the chills traveling at this hour.”

  In the last carriage, the steward reclined comfortably, leisurely puffing on a cigar. Thick white smoke curled around his face, half-hidden beneath the shadow of his hooded cloak. He muttered to himself:

  – “If this shipment goes through smoothly, I’ll earn a handsome sum. Nicolas has the Queen’s backing — no one would dare block his path. My wealth will only keep growing. Before long, I’ll become a tycoon.”

  A quiet, greedy chuckle slipped into the dense night — but whether everything would truly unfold according to the wishes of the ruthless remained to be seen.

  ***

  Back on Earth, at the District 5 headquarters, the batches of mooncakes were complete, including the artistic creations that had just come out of the oven. Warm steam still lingered, and a gentle sweet aroma filled the grand hall. The little demons stood around the table, eyes fixed on the trays of steaming cakes.

  Arian announced:

  – “Father has given orders. Tonight we’ll all return to the Bình Chánh headquarters to celebrate the Mid-Autumn Festival first. On the actual day, we’ll come here and then visit L??ng Nh? H?c lantern street together.”

  The little demons immediately cheered:

  – “We’re about to feast! When the Lord hosts, it’s always gourmet food.”

  Trúc Di?n quickly asked:

  – “So Father will stop by here that day too?”

  Arian nodded:

  – “Father, Grand Madam Advisor, and the entire intelligence unit.”

  Erion grimaced upon hearing that:

  – “He’s bringing the whole intelligence unit? Isn’t he afraid of drawing attention?”

  Arian and Lita were already used to such scenes — their powerful father never traveled without his agents shadowing him closely, always guarded within and without.

  H?u K? spoke up:

  – “While the cakes cool, let’s prepare the wooden boxes and packaging.”

  Trúc Di?n glanced at the clock:

  – “In a bit, we’ll stop by senior brother’s place in District 3, pick him up, and then head out.”

  At their usual café, Huy and his group of friends sat together, speaking in low voices as they discussed something. The purple-haired boy leaned in close and whispered:

  – “How much money do you have left? Can you lend me some? I’ll pay you back later.”

  Huy shook his head, his voice weary:

  – “I don’t have any. My wife’s wedding gold has been sealed by my in-laws — I’m not allowed to touch it. And the wedding gift money was used to pay the banquet hall. Why do you need to borrow money?”

  The purple-haired boy sighed:

  – “I was thinking of making a comeback.”

  The buzz-cut boy immediately jolted:

  – “You’re planning to gamble again? Do you want to lose your house? If your parents find out, they’ll disown you.”

  Huy grimaced, recalling his last gambling loss:

  – “Last time my in-laws paid off five billion for me and Th?. If I get involved in gambling again, not only my in-laws but even my own parents will kill me.”

  The orange-haired girl tried to persuade him:

  – “You married into a wealthy family — that’s already a stepping stone. Focus on making something of it. Don’t go back down that road.”

  The buzz-cut boy nodded in agreement:

  – “Plenty of guys would love to be a rich family’s son-in-law like you and don’t get the chance. You should look for another job.”

  At the mention of work, Huy grew even more discouraged. He sighed:

  – “I need to find a second job to make more money, but right now… it’s really hard to find something that suits me.”

  Not far away sat a young foreign man around their age, dressed elegantly, with a faintly cunning look on his face. Holding a cup of coffee, he walked over to Huy’s table and struck up a conversation:

  – “Hello, I couldn’t help overhearing. Are you looking for a job?”

  The purple-haired boy nodded:

  – “Yeah, our friend here is looking for an evening part-time job.”

  The young man casually took a seat and introduced himself:

  – “I’m Alistair Thorne, a casino manager. We’re currently hiring service staff. The salary is quite high, with commission included. As for tips, whatever the customer gives, you keep. Working hours are from 4 p.m. to midnight, or midnight to 8 a.m. You may have to rotate shifts with other employees.”

  Hearing this, Huy’s eyes lit up — the job aligned perfectly with both his skills and interests. He immediately asked:

  – “Could you give me the address and phone number? I’ll arrange my schedule and come for an interview.”

  Alistair Thorne handed him a business card:

  – “When you come for the interview, call me a day in advance so I can arrange the schedule. As for application documents, nothing complicated — just your ID card and a health certificate. If anything else is needed, I’ll let you know later.”

  Huy nodded eagerly, overjoyed as if he had struck gold:

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  – “Thank you so much. I’ll work very hard.”

  Alistair Thorne added:

  – “You should act quickly, or the positions will be filled. We’ve had a lot of applicants these past few days.”

  The sky over Saigon gradually darkened. The last traces of sunset slowly dissolved along the horizon, layers of deep violet clouds drifting past like silk ribbons, swallowing the remaining streaks of gold. The city lights flickered on — streets glowing warm orange, mingling with the bright white blaze of skyscrapers — while the sky above sank into the deep, mysterious blue of night.

  At the Bình Chánh headquarters, the space shimmered with surreal colors like a living painting in motion. Hundreds of lanterns were lit by multicolored ghost flames, floating midair without strings or supports. Inside each lantern, the light swirled slowly into soft ribbons, shifting hues like breathing — now indigo-violet, now amber, now ruby red — casting a hazy, otherworldly aura across the hall.

  Along the pathways, red lanterns hung high from the branches of ancient trees in the paradise garden. Their smooth translucent paper caught the light, projecting trembling red circles onto the courtyard below. The night breeze made them sway gently, creating chains of flickering reflections sliding across the stone floor like waves of light.

  Inside the grand hall, the glow reflected off the high vaulted ceiling with its European-style curved ribs, interwoven with reliefs of swirling clouds and Eastern sacred beasts. Massive rosewood pillars carved in intricate detail caught the shifting firelight, their contours alternating between deep shadow and metallic brilliance. Inlaid wall panels and Asian motifs sparkled in scattered highlights, making the entire space feel both solemn and fantastical — as if standing at the intersection of two cultures and two worlds.

  Everyone had gathered. The round mooncakes, shaped with elaborate artistry, were arranged neatly on wooden trays, each bearing the personal symbol of its creator.

  Professor Charles lifted a mooncake shaped like a pair of white angel wings. The crust had been pressed in layered relief, each feather carved sharply like a miniature sculpture. A light glaze gave it a pearlescent sheen under the lantern light. Beneath the wings were small sunflowers molded from mung bean paste, their amber-gold centers translucent like resin.

  Trang and Erion used bamboo charcoal dough to craft two jet-black cakes, their surfaces matte and smooth like obsidian. On top of each was a raised black diamond emblem formed from firmly pressed dough, the edges coated with clear syrup to reflect a cold gleam. One cake featured dragon wings scaled in embossed detail behind the diamond; the other displayed a phoenix wing fully spread, its edges dusted with metallic red edible shimmer, as if fire smoldered beneath.

  Trúc Di?n and the members of the Serpent Clan shaped their cakes after the sacred White Serpent coiling around a full moon. The serpent’s body was engraved with tiny scales using hand-carving tools. Other versions stood beside it in a five-element set: The jade-green Azure Serpent, the dark Black Serpent, the deep red Vermilion Serpent, and the Golden Serpent coated in fine gold shimmer powder — under the lantern glow, they resembled miniature metal bas-reliefs.

  H?ng Nhung created a pink cake from dried rose powder, its surface naturally veined like petals. Atop it rested a pair of fairy butterfly wings, delicately sculpted thin, their veins pressed translucent and dusted with sparkling shimmer; each angle caught a different glint of light.

  Din, Yin, and Chen prepared three contrasting designs. One depicted a full moon hanging over an ancient palace, with layered rooftops and railings molded in relief. The second bore a hollow-carved hourglass, filled inside with dual-colored translucent jelly to create a layered gradient effect. The last was a black rose with deep overlapping petals, the edges tinted dark violet — exuding an aura of sovereign darkness.

  Arian, Lita, and the members of the Satan Royal Family chose symbols of authority: Crowns, thrones, lightning bolts, and spiraled horns carved in sharp relief. Some details were adorned with thin sheets of edible gold, flashing brilliantly when the cakes were turned.

  The little demons’ cakes were more mischievous — shaped like bats with wings spread wide. The wings were crafted from thinly rolled dough pressed with vein patterns, their pointed edges raised above the surface as if ready to fly off the tray.

  The banquet table now resembled an exhibition of culinary art, immersed in shimmering color. Demon King Satan observed with satisfaction and chuckled:

  – “So beautiful… I almost don’t want to eat them.”

  Master V?nh used his phone to photograph each design as a keepsake:

  – “With your permission, I’ll recreate these designs later as birthday cake versions for each member.”

  Demon King Satan gestured grandly:

  – “My children and my dear friend are all present. Let us begin the reunion feast.”

  Everyone applauded and cheered, the atmosphere turning lively and joyful. The intelligence agents and the little demons were also given their own banquet tables — equally lavish as those of their masters.

  The atmosphere of the reunion banquet radiated warmth and liveliness. One by one, the mooncakes were cut open, revealing generous fillings of the finest quality, their textures refined down to the smallest detail. Mixed fillings of lobster and scallop, sea cucumber and abalone, matsutake mushrooms and bird’s nest, mung bean with lotus seed, matcha with red bean, purple sweet potato with honey… all blended with molten salted egg yolk, rich and glossy, releasing an irresistibly buttery aroma. The scent of hot tea, the fragrance of freshly baked cakes, and the multicolored ghostly lantern lights floating overhead intertwined, making the space feel even more intimate and united.

  Din looked at Erion and smiled, half teasing, half sincere:

  – “Thanks to the Princess and the Serpent Clan members helping out, the General’s cake made it to the banquet table just in time.”

  Chen glanced down at the table where the little demons were eating noisily:

  – “They’re more than skilled enough. The only thing they lack is patience.”

  Grand Madam Advisor calmly picked up a slice of lobster and scallop mooncake, her voice composed:

  – “Phong Túc’s and Bách Di?n’s cakes are finished as well. An agent disguised as a delivery driver is bringing them over.”

  Arian savored a bite of mung bean and lotus seed cake and softly asked:

  – “Anh Tú arrived late that day, didn’t he? What about the two Canadian witches?”

  Charles took a sip of lotus tea, his gaze steady:

  – “They’re not bad people. They simply misjudged someone. Young and inexperienced, they failed to see through the false face of the youngest daughter Mr. D?ng.”

  Grand Madam Advisor nodded gently, her expression easing:

  – “Their cakes are being sent on the same trip. I hope the children will like them.”

  Laughter and congratulations blended with the soft clink of cups. Multicolored lights reflected on every face, filling the grand hall with a sense of warm and complete reunion.

  ***

  At C?u D?ng’s villa, the family members were busy preparing to go out for dinner. One held a mirror while applying lipstick, another sprayed more perfume, someone checked their phone—an atmosphere both hurried and familiarly ostentatious. Only Dì T? asked to stay home, saying she wasn’t feeling well.

  C?u D?ng, neatly dressed in his suit, walked toward the basement garage entrance while instructing:

  – “If you’re tired, Mrs. T?, stay home and rest. If you want to eat anything, just order it. I’ve left money on the table — help yourself.”

  Dì T? bowed her head slightly in thanks:

  – “Yes, thank you, sir and madam. But… I haven’t seen Huy come home yet.”

  The moment her second son-in-law’s name was mentioned, M? Linh frowned, her voice filled with irritation:

  – “Ignore him. Let him starve if he wants. Why bother calling him to dinner and wasting money?”

  C?u D?ng shot her a look, lowering his voice with calculated intent:

  – “You really only see one side of things. At home, it doesn’t matter. But outside, we have to show people that our family is compassionate, virtuous, and upright. That way we leave a good impression, appeal to people’s sympathy, and our business will prosper.”

  Then he turned to his eldest son-in-law, Anh Tú, and gave a firm order:

  – “Send him the restaurant address. Tell him to go there first.”

  Anh Tú bowed his head slightly:

  – “Yes, Father. I’ll do it right away.”

  A few minutes later, two luxury cars rolled out of the upscale villa compound, leaving behind the wide, silent courtyard and the yellow lights casting down over the cold stone steps.

  Not long after C?u D?ng’s family left, a delivery driver rode up and stopped in front of the gate. He called out loudly:

  – “Homeowner, please come out and receive your food.”

  Dì T? stepped outside, her expression instantly hardening:

  – “What are you doing here?”

  Lowering his voice, the delivery driver handed her two carefully gift-wrapped rectangular wooden boxes:

  – “These are mooncakes and two meal portions sent by the Lord. The cakes for the General and the Colonel are wrapped in golden brocade, and the ones wrapped in ocean-blue brocade are gifts for the two Canadian witches.”

  Dì T? accepted them, the tension on her face gradually easing:

  – “Bách Di?n and I send our thanks to the Lord. We will attend on the Mid-Autumn Festival.”

  The delivery driver left quickly, his motorbike disappearing at the corner of the street as if he had never appeared. Dì T? carried the boxes up to their private room. When Bách Di?n saw them, he could not hide his excitement:

  – “I’ve been craving mooncakes. Perfect timing.”

  Inside the servants’ room, Phong Túc and Bách Di?n had already removed their disguises. They opened the wooden box wrapped in golden brocade. Inside were two mooncakes bearing their personal emblems, along with several packets of freeze-dried herbal tea.

  Phong Túc’s cake — a black lynx shaded in mystical deep violet. Against a crust dusted with smoky purple shimmer stood the figure of a black cat sitting upright, its fur carved in sharp, delicate strokes. Its eyes were colored asymmetrically — one a deep sapphire blue, the other a blazing ruby red like live embers. Under the light, they gleamed with two distinct halos, creating an aura both mysterious and dangerous.

  Bách Di?n’s cake — a chameleon — was the complete opposite. The crust was blended in iridescent streaks of five colors like a rainbow after rain, each shade melting softly into the next without pattern. On the surface stood a raised chameleon perched on a branch, its body arched and its tail curled into its signature spiral. The layered colors shifted with every angle of light, making the figure appear to change its appearance before the viewer’s eyes.

  Phong Túc and Bách Di?n fell silent for a moment, a warmth rising in their hearts that was difficult to name. The Demon King Satan’s care was neither loud nor ostentatious, yet it was enough to touch the deepest scars hidden in their memories.

  Bách Di?n had grown up in the underworld, beneath averted gazes and doors slammed shut by his own blood relatives. Years of rejection had taught him to survive alone, never daring to expect anyone to reach out a hand. Phong Túc, meanwhile, carried memories of cold-blooded hunts launched by his own clan—the very place that should have been the safest and most peaceful refuge.

  They shared no blood ties, no familial bond by birth, yet the Royal House of Satan gave them something even more precious — a place within a family, a recognized identity, and the feeling of being protected. For those whom the world had once turned its back on, such grace was etched into bone and memory, beyond the worth of any power or wealth.

  Bách Di?n wiped away a tear of happiness and gratitude:

  – “Let’s eat quickly. If D?ng’s family comes back, everything will be exposed.”

  Phong Túc nodded and stepped toward the door:

  – “I’ll make the tea. Mooncakes without tea can never be fully appreciated.”