Li Yuan turned and walked off. Once he was out of sight, he activated the token and instantly appeared outside Dawn Manor. He had to move his family. That was a major undertaking, and it would mean coordinating the handover with both the new Bladeseekers and the Tang Sect. Yan Yu has already moved back to Hidden River Province. The fifth rank meat fields here would gradually disappear, and the new Bladeseekers would lose its resource base. That said, the Bladeseekers had also slipped free of the Lotus Cult’s grip to some extent, becoming an enterprise Yan Yu could take over. In the past, the Bladeseekers was merely the Lotus Cult’s barracks for breeding ghost cavalry. Now…could the Bladeseekers become his own power? After all, he was technically its true master. Every martial artists of the Bladeseekers needed him. It would be a win-win. So, should I merge the new Bladeseekers with the old Bladeseekers? Turning these questions over, Li Yuan shifted his form and hurried into Dawn Manor. The moment he stepped inside, something felt wrong. It was too quiet. He stretched his senses and caught movement from the inner courtyard. When Li Yuan entered, he saw Sheng'er, Ping’an, Jing Shuixiang, Cui Huayin, Yao Jue, and the others gathered outside a room. Before long, a doctor emerged from that room. Yao Jue stepped up to speak with him for a bit; the doctor bowed and hurried off. Yao Jue gave Ping'an a small shake of the head. Ping’an broke down at once. He lunged toward the room, shouting, “No. No! My mother isn’t even 60 yet. We’ve got so many people from the Holy Tree Temple, so many pills. Why? Why can’t we even save a normal person?” “Ping’an,” Yao Jue said, “we…we understand how you feel. Don’t work yourself up. Your mother needs to rest.” “Rest… Rest?” Ping'an choked. “Where’s my father? Where did he go? At a time , he still won’t come back! What kind of father is that?! If he were here—if he were…” Anger flashed through Yao Jue. She lifted her hand, ready to slap the junior in front of her. But when she saw his face slick with tears, she slowly let it fall. A beautiful woman stepped out behind Ping'an. “Don’t be angry, Elder Gu. You know what Ping’an’s like. When he panics, anything might come out of his mouth.” They were still talking when footsteps sounded from the courtyard. Heads turned. Li Yuan had returned. He looked at Yao Jue. “What happened?” Yao Jue hurried to him. “Master, a few days ago Xue Ning was hanging the laundry when the world suddenly spun and she fell. After that…it’s like she just started failing. We’ve given her plenty of elixirs and brought in one doctor after another, but nothing has worked. The one who just left was the 16th.” As she spoke, a pretty young woman in green came running out, tugging along a big boy. She pressed her lips together, lowered her head, and said to Li Yuan, “I’m sorry, Father-in-law. That day Mother-in-law fell while washing clothes for Di’er.” No sooner had she finished than Ping'an snapped from behind, “Wash them yourself if you have to. At worst, have one of the maids do it. Why did you have to give them to my mother?” Li Yuan recognized the girl. It was Liu Liuxue, a prodigy of the Liu Clan from the Holy Tree Temple. In the past, she’d shadowed Ping'an everywhere. “I’m sorry,” Liu Liuxue sobbed. “It’s just… Mother-in-law said she had nothing to do most days, and that washing her grandchildren’s clothes made her happy, so I…I…” The big boy at her side kept his head down, silent as a mouse, not daring to say a word. “Ping’an, enough,” Li Yuan said. “Don’t blame your wife. No one could have foreseen this. I’ll go in and see your mother first.” Ping'an clenched his fists. His eyes went red and he burst out crying. “I’m useless! Completely useless!” He spun around and shot into the air. “...” Everyone fell silent. Li Yuan couldn’t help cursing under his breath. “That brat’s had it too easy.” Every hardship Ping'an had ever tasted probably came from the crash course he got during that brief time away from the Holy Tree Temple. Otherwise, his son had never truly had a setback. His temperament was hopeless. Li Yuan glanced at Yao Jue. “Go bring Ping’an back. Tell him something big has happened. We have to move right now.” “Yes, Master.” Yao Jue took to the air and sped off after him. Li Yuan drew a deep breath and was about to step into the room when Sheng'er, quiet as a kitten by his side, whispered, “Papa… Mama’s gone.” “She’s fine,” he said gently. “But we’re moving.” “Okay.” Sheng'er stayed obedient as ever. Only then did Li Yuan lift his head, climb the steps, push the door open, and enter. Inside, he rounded the screen and saw Xue Ning at once. She lay weakly on the bed, eyes shut, as if all spirit and vigor had been drawn out of her, leaving only age. She was just an ordinary person, yet she’d been living among high ranked martial artists and powerful ghosts. Her body, inevitably, had been buffeted by Yin and Yang energies no mortal should be asked to endure. And the things she handled were all matters that could tip the scales. She’d worried herself half to death, walking on thin ice day after day, terrified that a single misstep might drag Li Yuan down and bring ruin on the whole family. By rights, under her management, something should have gone wrong. And yet…Li Yuan had never heard of a single mishap. That ordinary-seeming record—nothing to brag about on the surface—masked Xue Ning’s keen mind and the heart’s blood she poured into it. On top of that, Cloudpeak Province was bitterly cold; all the travel, the jostling, the change in water and soil…one thing after another. Even with Dawn Manor’s wealth and all the tonics it could provide, Xue Ning still fell ill again and again. “I’m back...” Li Yuan’s gentle voice broke the hush. He sat at the edge of the bed and gathered her slightly plump, slightly wrinkled hand into his. Xue Ning slowly opened her eyes. Her cracked lips moved, then curved into a smile. “I must look dreadful.” Li Yuan bent down and pulled the gray-haired woman into his arms. “What’s dreadful about you?” In his eyes flickered the memory of that mysterious burial ground of the gods, the Yin-Yang double-fish cavern of hanging coffins, each one cradling a god, and the strange reaction from the highest coffin of all. “Don’t worry,” he said, voice as soft as silk. “I’ll take you to the place where the gods sleep, and let you sleep there too.” “They’re just a bunch of old undyings.” “Why do you sound like Ping’an?” Xue Ning let out a small laugh. “Just trust me,” Li Yuan said. Her face was pale. She hesitated. “Dearest…maybe we shouldn’t. I…I don’t need to sleep there.” She was afraid of dragging trouble onto him. “I’ve already made arrangements with them,” he lied with a smile. “All you have to do is lie down and rest. If so many so-called gods are lying there, they must truly be able to wake again—and find new life in a new world.” “Arranged, have you? Liar…” Xue Ning teased. “You think I don’t know you?” “If I’m lying, I’ll bark like a dog.” “Then, let me hear a woof.” Xue Ning gently smiled. An old woman playing at cute like a young girl…this was something she would only dare in front of Li Yuan. Like a blossom that opens and fades in a heartbeat, the moment ended in a fit of racking coughs. Li Yuan hurriedly eased her back and checked her condition. “Set your heart at ease. You’ll be fine.” “Mhm.” She obeyed, docile as ever. Before long, Yao Jue found Ping'an out in the deep mountains. He was hacking the air with his sword, venting in explosions of sound. When the storm passed, and with Yao Jue’s steady coaxing, he ducked his head and muttered an apology, then followed her back. Li Yuan explained the situation, then moved fast. The whole household would head west at once, to take refuge in the Evernight of the Western Extremes. This was his quick and dirty solution of plugging any holes before they could widen. Bright Moon Prefecture, Ocean Province. Xie Wei did not return to Clear Ripple Cottage. When her carriage reached the cottage, she lifted the curtain, murmured a few instructions, and the coachman turned the horses east toward the Xie residence. Once there, she simply said she wanted to spend a night at home. Xie Jian’an could only agree. That night, Xie Wei and Xie Yu talked for hours, sister to sister. Tʜe sourcᴇ of thɪs content ɪs 𝚗𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚕·𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚎·𝚗𝚎𝚝 Naturally, the conversation could not avoid their husbands. Whether it was the Emperor—disgusting, yet lavishly praised by their eldest brother—or that blade obsessed lunatic who knew nothing of human give-and-take and vanished into seclusion at the drop of a hat, the two women picked both men apart, again and again. After a long while, fatigue edged Xie Wei’s smile. She stroked her belly and joked, “With this little one, I’m drowsy before the sky’s even dark.” “Then rest well,” Xie Yu said with a laugh. They parted and went to their rooms. Night deepened, and the residence went still. Somewhere down the streets, a dog barked; the night watchman had struck the drum, signalling midnight. On the bed, Xie Wei’s eyes snapped open, clear as day with no trace of sleepiness. She rose, slipped on her embroidered shoes, and moved like a cat alert in the dark. Then she quickly left her room without making a sound. She was the leader of the shadow guard. Any place barred to others was open to her; any door sealed to the world might as well be ajar when she arrived. Tonight, she was going to just such a place. Moments later, she stood before a secluded secret chamber. A flick of her sleeve, and a copper key twitched into her hand. It was the chamber’s mechanism key, quietly kept back during construction, the only one of its kind. No one knew of it but her. She held the key up to the door and hesitated. Her right hand shook; she gripped her own wrist with her left to steady it. From her talk with Xie Yu just now, she’d learned that the Emperor had not returned, and Ximen Gucheng had not emerged from seclusion. Earlier that day, she’d slipped into the shadow guard archives and rifled through the entry-and-exit ledgers for the Xie residence, Then, in a blur, she paged through the logs for the whole of Bright Moon Prefecture, checking for those who’d entered the region around the time of the Emperor’s assassination. All of it, piece by piece, had begun to align, eerie overlaps with the suspicion taking shape in her heart. Xie Wei drew a deep breath, lowered the key, and knocked lightly on the door. “Gucheng? It’s me, your big sister.” Only silence followed. Perhaps he was sunk too deep in cultivation. “Gucheng, it’s urgent,” she said. “Open up, quickly.” Still, no answer came. She let out a small, airy laugh. “Then…then, I’ll be coming in.” Xie Wei grit her teeth, slid the key into the lock, and turned it. Gears whirred behind the door. The panel swung inward. And inside, there was no one. Xie Wei’s pupils tightened to pinpoints. A tremor ran through her whole body. She drew a few slow breaths, closed the door again, locked it, and slipped away as if nothing had happened. She lay back down on her bed, the picture of calm, and at first light she hurried back to Clear Ripple Cottage.