If it were Uncle Li...

The study door slammed shut.

That muffled boom sounded as though it had severed twenty years of father-daughter affection—or perhaps it was the war drum heralding the point at which the fates of the Tong family would diverge.

Tong Xiaoxiao stood outside the door, rooted to the spot. She did not know how long she remained there.

By the time she came to herself, the tearstains on her lovely face—once wet with tears—had already dried.

She did not return to her chambers. Instead, she walked straight through the corridors toward the most secluded courtyard in the estate.

That was the “Listening to Rain Pavilion,” residence of the Tong family’s chief consecrated elder, Li Yunzhi.

…

Inside the Listening to Rain Pavilion, the lamplight was as faint as a bean-sized flame.

Li Yunzhi sat cross-legged on a meditation cushion. On the low table before him, the black jade bookmark emitted a faint glow.

His eyes were tightly shut as he tried to calm the turmoil in his sea of consciousness with his righteous qi.

Yet no matter how he circulated his cultivation technique, the scene from earlier kept replaying in his mind like a nightmare: being dismissed with a single word, unable to summon even the slightest thought of resistance.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Three soft yet perfectly measured knocks broke the silence of the meditation room.

Li Yunzhi frowned. Who would disturb him at this hour?

“Uncle Li, it’s me, Xiaoxiao.”

Tong Xiaoxiao’s cool voice came from outside the door.

Li Yunzhi’s heart jolted. He hurriedly rose and opened the door.

Outside stood a young woman in a pale yellow dress, lovely beneath the moonlight. Her eyes were red around the edges, clearly showing that she had just been crying.

But there was not the slightest trace of weakness in those almond-shaped eyes.

“Miss, at this hour, you…”

“Uncle Li, may I come in to speak with you?”

Li Yunzhi hesitated for a moment. “Well… I suppose you can, but it would be better if you came to see me in the morning.”

“A lone man and woman together in the middle of the night… If the servants were to see us, it wouldn’t be appropriate.”

“And if they started gossiping and the rumor got out…”

Tong Xiaoxiao rejected his suggestion. “Let’s speak now. I know what I’m doing.”

Li Yunzhi could only step aside and invite her in.

“Miss, is something…”

“My father wants me to marry.”

Tong Xiaoxiao interrupted him again. Her blunt declaration left the rest of his sentence lodged in his throat.

She walked to the low table and looked at the black jade bookmark, which was still glowing faintly. Her voice was frighteningly calm.

“He wants to sell me—and that sword—as a single package to the highest bidder at the auction. To whichever ‘backer’ offers the most.”

Li Yunzhi’s pupils contracted sharply.

At last, he understood why Tong Xiaoxiao had come to him in the dead of night, and why her eyes held such a light.

That was not sorrow.

It was the flame of resistance kindled in the depths of despair.

“Miss…” Li Yunzhi opened his mouth, but he found that any words of comfort would seem pale and powerless before reality.

He served as a consecrated elder of the Tong family and lived on their stipend, but in the end, he was merely a guest official.

This was a family matter. As an outsider, he had no place to interfere.

“Uncle Li.” Tong Xiaoxiao turned around. “I didn’t come here to listen to you comfort me.”

“I don’t want to marry some complete stranger.”

“You watched me grow up.”

“You always said that you regarded me as your own daughter…”

“If it’s you, Uncle Li…”

Her voice trembled faintly as she continued, “The sword can be thrown away. The Tong family’s property can be thrown away, too. My father… He has no idea what I want.”

Li Yunzhi shuddered as though struck by lightning.

He stared at the girl before him. Moments ago, she had been weeping like a pear blossom in the rain; now, she was saying something so astonishing that, for a time, he did not know how to respond.

“You? Me?”

His throat felt dry. Even he found those two words absurd once they had been spoken aloud.

He was a consecrated elder of the Tong family, paid to protect them and deal with their troubles.

But when had that “trouble” come to include the family’s beloved daughter?

“Miss, this matter is of great importance. Allow me to…”

“I’ll speak with Mr. Tong. Perhaps he may change his mind…”

“No need.”

Tong Xiaoxiao shook her head. The light in her eyes instantly dimmed, replaced by the utter disappointment of someone who had been rejected.

“I understand. You’re a consecrated elder of the Tong family. I won’t put you in a difficult position.”

Her voice was soft, yet it struck Li Yunzhi’s heart—tempered by thousands of years of righteous qi—as heavily as a giant hammer.

He watched as Tong Xiaoxiao turned to leave. Her slender shoulders seemed to bear the weight of the entire clan. Beneath the moonlight, she looked so fragile—and yet so stubborn.

Li Yunzhi suddenly closed his eyes.

In his mind appeared the old, exhausted face of Tong Qiannian, the departing figure of Tong Xiaoxiao, and the young man in the mask aboard the pleasure boat that night.

And then there was the terrifying aura that had flashed by tonight, making his soul tremble in fear.

When he opened his eyes again, all his hesitation and mildness had vanished. In their place was a sharpness like that of a drawn sword.

“Old Ce.”

His voice was solemn.

“H-here…” came Old Ce’s feeble voice from within the black jade bookmark.

“Divine a hexagram.”

Old Ce’s little face instantly collapsed. He poked half his head out of the bookmark and pulled a long face.

“Old Li, you’re serious? This’ll cost me years of my life!”

“I told you to calculate it, so calculate it!” Li Yunzhi’s voice brooked no argument. “Calculate how much chance we have of winning if we choose to fight for her.”

Old Ce gritted his teeth. He knew his bookworm had made up his mind.

With a wave of his tiny hand, three ancient copper coins steeped in the aura of time flew from his sleeve. They spun rapidly in midair, stirring up rings of profound ripples.

Old Ce’s expression grew more solemn than it had ever been. He murmured an incantation, and obscure runes emerged from his mouth, merging into the spinning coins.

Yet before he could even begin to peer into the secrets of Heaven—

Snap!

The crisp sound was enough to make one’s teeth ache.

The three copper coins, still spinning at high speed, exploded simultaneously in midair without warning, disintegrating into the finest dust.

“Pffft—!”

Old Ce looked as though he had suffered a heavy blow. He abruptly spat out a large mouthful of green smoke, and his entire illusory form dimmed considerably. Like a punctured ball, he collapsed onto the table, his little hand trembling as he weakly pointed toward the south of the city.

That was the direction of the Immortal Drunkenness Pavilion.

“C-can’t… calculate it…”

“The secrets of Heaven… are in chaos…”

“There’s a great terror… watching us… No, he is…”

“No… He isn’t…”

“He…”

Old Ce’s mind had begun to unravel. Before he could finish, his illusory form flickered violently once more, as if it might disperse at any moment.

Li Yunzhi’s face went deathly pale.

He knew Old Ce’s abilities better than anyone. This book spirit was an ancient treasure that had accompanied him for a thousand years, helping him avoid misfortune and seek good fortune. It had never once made a mistake.

Divining the secrets of Heaven was its innate divine ability.

Yet now, merely trying to divine the outcome of the word “fight”—without even mentioning the names of anyone involved—had triggered such terrifying backlash.

What did that mean?

It meant that the other party’s status had risen to a level beyond even the reach of the secrets of Heaven. Perhaps the very act of divination was itself an act of blasphemy.

“I understand…” Li Yunzhi murmured. The last trace of hope in his eyes was extinguished completely.

He slowly turned around.

“I know.”