Li Zhiyuan finished writing all the inscriptions on the table, placed the brush down, and rubbed his wrist. Liu Jinxia smiled as she spread them out to dry, saying, "Stay for dinner." "No, I have friends and classmates, I need to return to Grandmaster’s house for dinner tonight." "Oh, I see, is the school on vacation? How long will you be staying home?" "Hm." Liu Jinxia looked at her granddaughter Cui Cui, "Study hard, and in the future, strive to go to university in Jinling with your Brother Yuanhou." Cui Cui stuck out her tongue; by the time she went to university, Brother Yuanhou would have already graduated. "Brother Yuanhou, come play in my room." Just like the first time he came to Cui Cui’s house, Li Zhiyuan was led to the second floor by Cui Cui, removing his shoes at the stairs along the way. Cui Cui’s room hadn’t changed in layout, but there were many more dolls, and she had also collected numerous art books, posters, and storybooks, which she brought out like treasures to share with Li Zhiyuan. Li Zhiyuan’s attention, however, was more focused on the furniture in the room. Initially, he noticed a fine horizontal crack in the mirror on the dressing table. Next, he saw similar cracks on the wardrobe, the chair, and the edge of the bed. To an ordinary person, furniture developing cracks after a long time is completely normal. But Li Zhiyuan could tell that this was the effect of the girl’s own fate on her surroundings. People are part of the environment and naturally can bring about specific changes to it. Cui Cui’s fate had hardened again. From Liu Jinxia, to Li Juxiang, to Cui Cui, through three generations, it had become increasingly extreme. Although Li Zhiyuan was skilled in physiognomy and fate, he was not superstitious about it. But even by the law of probability, Cui Cui’s current problem was very serious. When she grows up, unless it’s with those special individuals, normal people who get close to her may find it unbearable. There indeed exists a very small group of people in the world, where a man marries, and either one leaves or one dies; for a woman to marry, before she’s even wed, her fiancé either goes mad or dies. Looking at the opened posters, which included many young male celebrities, Li Zhiyuan asked, "Cui Cui, do you like them?" The little girl replied with a smile, "They’re handsome, just like you, Brother Yuanhou." Li Zhiyuan pondered silently, perhaps he could ask Alii to make a longevity lock or bracelet of some kind to help suppress Cui Cui’s fate. But finding the materials would be difficult; jade wouldn’t work, as wearing it for long would cause it to shatter. Only metal could be used, and not just any metal, but special gold items. However, as he is currently wandering Jianghu, meddling with people’s fate without permission may trigger certain consequences. Luckily, Cui Cui is still young, waiting a little longer shouldn’t be a problem. As long as she doesn’t fall in love too early before he finishes his journey through Jianghu. From the perspective of ordinary people, early romance is generally bad for girls, but for Cui Cui, it could be the boys who suffer. After finishing the visit at Cui Cui’s house, Li Zhiyuan returned to Grandmaster’s house. The Grandmaster and Mr. Shan were still snoring in their coffins, occasionally talking in their sleep, and even in dreams, they quarreled. He remembered the Grandmaster said that in the future, a century later, he would be buried with Shan Pao. Looking at it now, if the two old men were really buried together, the graveyard would probably not be peaceful at night. Li Zhiyuan admired the paper figures made in advance in the living room. Ying Hou’s craftsmanship was indeed excellent; every paper figure was vividly crafted, yet cast a chilling sense of order. Like at night, when a flashlight shines on them, the row of paper figures seems ready to collectively turn their heads. After all, it was handmade by her, achieving such an effect was normal. Li Zhiyuan went upstairs to the rooftop, where the two wicker chairs for Alii and him were still placed in their original position. They couldn’t always be left here to weather the elements, and judging by the marks on the ground, the Grandmaster had specifically brought them out from inside the house this morning. His past is simultaneously another person’s memory. On many afternoons, the Grandmaster lay on his long bench in the distance, fanning himself while smoking, smiling as he watched the two wicker chairs leaning together in front of him, along with the boy and girl sitting there. Li Zhiyuan sat down on the wicker chair, habitually looking down at the closed door of the East house. Li Weihan and Cui Guiying return home every night, while Ying Hou stays here, sleeping in the West room, which was once Aunt Liu and Uncle Qin’s room. The East room, where Alii and Grandma Liu once lived, had a lock hanging on the door. Time seemed to rewind, cycling back through another winter, autumn, summer, spring, back to that day, sitting here, holding "Jianghu Chronicles," flipping pages, pausing to glance at the girl sitting downstairs with her feet on the threshold: A page of Jianghu, a fleeting glimpse. Memories are not exclusive to the elderly, but depend on whether you’ve had enough beauty in your life. Just then, Li Zhiyuan sensed a cold wind spilling out from the back room, stirring his hair. The young man pressed his right thumb against the red button at his wrist, while his left hand quickly formed a seal. A fierce aura emanated from the young man. This was an instinct, built from treading upon death and evil spirits, and stepping through layers of river waves, accumulating as a formidable presence. Especially now, with Run Sheng and the others not by his side, the young man’s sensitivity would be infinitely magnified. But soon, his thumb released, and the hand seal was dismantled.