The shaded path buzzed with the murmur of insects as Qiu Shi walked side by side with Song Yunhe. They turned onto a winding trail, where lush greenery flickered in and out of view amidst the misty clouds.
"Why didn’t you tell us these reasons earlier?" Song Yunhe glanced down at the girl standing a head shorter than him and asked.
"You never came to see me—just ordered Lu Jue to surround Dongheng Courtyard without a word. What was I supposed to say?"
Qiu Shi couldn’t bring herself to describe the bizarre dream she’d had, so she brushed off the question with a feigned pout.
When Tang Ru had confronted her, she hadn’t yet experienced that dream, so her response had been fierce and unyielding.
By the time Song Yunhe sought her out, she still couldn’t confirm whether the dream was real—but she followed the script of its dialogue anyway. And now, her premonitions had come true, every detail aligning.
"As for the people uncovered inside and outside my courtyard during this sweep—no need to spare any courtesy. Send them back wherever they came from."
Qiu Shi kicked a round pebble at her feet, her voice laced with a cool detachment. "Nothing but underhanded schemes."
Song Yunhe shot her a surprised glance before chuckling and shaking his head. "I didn’t think you paid attention to these matters."
"I’m not stupid."
Qiu Shi lifted her gaze and scoffed under her breath. "If someone overreaches, they deserve to be taught a lesson."
Song Yunhe paused mid-step, his warm hand briefly resting atop her head as he smiled approvingly. "Good. You’ve grown."
Though Qiu Shi had been doted on by her family since childhood, Song Chengshu and Song Yunhe had never hidden the affairs of the city from her. She knew what needed to be known.
This incident—her bringing Cheng Yi back to Qin Hai Main City to recuperate—had spiraled out of control within days, exaggerated rumors spreading like wildfire until even Ruan Yuan, far away in Liugi Mountain, had caught wind of it. Qiu Shi didn’t believe for a second that no one had stoked the flames behind the scenes.
Over the years, the various factions had discreetly planted their spies, but Song Chengshu and the others had always been fully aware, their names neatly listed. Previously, these informants had done nothing beyond gathering trivial gossip—like when Song Chengshu entered or exited seclusion—information so mundane that it was hardly worth acknowledging.
But this time, none of them would escape unscathed.
"The Celestial Clan loves meddling in these things."
Song Yunhe spoke lightly, his gaze distant until it sharpened upon sighting Dongheng Courtyard. "Lu Jue mentioned Cheng Yi has woken up."
"I should thank him for saving you," he added.
Qiu Shi considered this, then slid a jade bracelet from her wrist, its translucent green shimmering with spiritual energy.
"What’s this for?" Song Yunhe eyed the bracelet resting in her palm.
"Before coming here, I spoke with Wu Fei. We agreed to meet them in Lin'an City tomorrow."
A playful glint lit her eyes, her voice brightening. "I wonder what Qin Donglin will think when he hears about this."
"What *will* he think?"
Song Yunhe took one look at her expression and knew she was back to deciphering Qin Donglin’s mind—a pastime she’d relished since childhood. Despite his notoriously unpredictable temper, she often guessed his reactions with startling accuracy.
Qiu Shi tapped her nose thoughtfully, analyzing as though it were a grand mystery. "He’s been ignoring me—leaving my messages on the communication jade unanswered but not crushing it either. That means he’s angry with me."
"If I didn’t know he was in Lin'an, that would be one thing. But since Wu Fei told me, and I *still* don’t rush over to explain and apologize, choosing to delay a day instead… why would I do that?"
Song Yunhe listened, torn between amusement and exasperation, but humored her nonetheless. "Why?"
"At this point, others might assume I’m delayed by the house arrest or some other reason."
As they reached Dongheng Courtyard, Qiu Shi flashed a smile at Lu Jue, who stood guard at the entrance, and sweetly addressed him as "Brother Lu Jue" before turning back to Song Yunhe.
"But Qin Donglin wouldn’t see it that way. He’d assume I’m using the time to pull some other stunt."
Song Yunhe sighed. "Like secretly relocating Cheng Yi overnight."
Qiu Shi nodded, her eyes crinkling into crescent moons as if picturing the scene. "So he definitely won’t wait for me to arrange everything and go to him tomorrow."
Song Yunhe’s eyelid twitched, a dull ache forming at his temple. "You’re saying he’ll come *today*?"
"Depends on when he finds out I contacted Wu Fei."
She dangled the bracelet before Song Yunhe’s eyes. "Just watch. When he arrives, his first move won’t be to seek me out or demand an explanation from you. He’ll follow the energy traces straight to Dongheng Courtyard."
Her free hand slashed through the air in a mock strike. "One swing of his sword, and this courtyard—along with every barrier inside—will be rubble."
"The second strike might cost Cheng Yi his life."
"That bracelet of yours—are you planning to leave it for Cheng Yi to block Qin Donglin’s sword?"
After listening, Song Yunhe ascended the steps and asked.
"This was a birthday gift from Aunt Ruan. It can block any attack below the Kunxu level once."
Qiu Shi traced the patterns on the bracelet with her fingers, her expression tinged with reluctance. "I’m afraid other defensive treasures won’t hold up."
Among the younger generation across the Six Realms, those who could force Qin Donglin to fight seriously were few and far between. The last time she had seen him spar in earnest was three years ago. Given his terrifying cultivation speed, who knew how far he had progressed by now?
Song Yunhe reassured her, "It doesn’t have to come to that. I’ll stand guard here today. The moment he arrives, I’ll summon you. How does that sound?"
The hem of Qiu Shi’s dress brushed softly against the steps as she shook her head. "It’s no use. If he doesn’t vent his anger, he won’t listen to a word we say."
Even someone as composed as Song Yunhe was momentarily rendered speechless by her words.
By the time they finished speaking, they had reached the long eaves.
The door before them was tightly shut, and the window was only slightly ajar, releasing a thick scent of medicinal herbs and spiritual materials.
Compared to his previous aggressive stance of sealing off the courtyard, Song Yunhe’s demeanor this time was surprisingly gentle and polite.
So much so that when Qing Feng welcomed them inside, his expression was utterly bewildered.
The Black Dragon Clan possessed formidable physical resilience. After days of bed rest, Cheng Yi was already able to sit up for short periods or take slow walks around the room.
When Qiu Shi and Song Yunhe entered, he had just finished changing his bandages. He sat in a round-backed chair by the table, his complexion pale but his aura as pure as falling snow.
"Young Master, this is the Young Lord of Qin Hai Main City," Qing Feng swiftly introduced.
Cheng Yi had met Qiu Shi before. During his intermittent moments of consciousness over the past ten days, he had often seen her in the room—either instructing attendants to bring precious decorations from her own quarters or delivering rare, restorative medicines.
She had saved his life and cared for him so attentively. She was truly a kind-hearted girl.
As for Song Yunhe, the Young Lord of Qin Hai Main City, Cheng Yi had heard of him long ago.
Men like Song Yunhe, born with the title of Young Lord, possessed pure bloodlines and inexhaustible resources. They stood at the pinnacle of the younger generation among the demon tribes—a boulder weighing on Cheng Yi’s heart, yet also the driving force behind his relentless efforts to climb higher.
"Cheng Yi pays his respects to Young Lord Yunhe."
Cheng Yi neither groveled nor postured. He clasped his hands in a respectful salute, his words poised and natural.
Qing Feng had seen Song Yunhe’s dark expression days ago when he ordered the Flying Fish Guards to encircle Dongheng Courtyard. Thus, from the moment they met, Qing Feng had been tense. But to his surprise, Song Yunhe showed no signs of hostility this time. Instead, he returned the gesture with equal courtesy, his tone warm and polite:
"Brother Cheng Yi, you flatter me. I’ve come today on behalf of my younger sister to thank you."
Once the full story was recounted, the tension in Cheng Yi’s brow eased. He smiled at Qiu Shi and murmured, "Who would have thought that a small act of kindness from the past would one day save my life?"
His features were refined, his lips red and teeth white, and his smile carried a warmth like the spring breeze. After patiently listening to Qiu Shi’s explanation, he still held the jade bracelet in his hand, his lips curved in a faint smile.
"This misunderstanding arose because of me. It’s only right that I clarify it. Young Lord and Miss Qiu Shi need not worry."
His demeanor and conduct were so impeccable that even Song Yunhe—a man who had seen countless people and could discern the finest details—couldn’t help but praise him as they stepped out of Dongheng Courtyard:
"Such grace and eloquence. One would hardly believe he hails from the Black Dragon Clan."
=====
That night, beneath a bright full moon, Qiu Shi entered the secret chamber with the Demonic Moon Zither Manual.
The Demonic Moon Zither Manual was one of the demon tribes’ most elite musical cultivation techniques, ranked among the Six Realms’ Ten Great Heavenly-Class Secret Arts. But unlike other secret arts that had successors, this particular technique had nearly vanished over the past hundred thousand years.
The reason wasn’t that the heavenly-class technique was too obscure or that its practitioners lacked talent—it was because it required the demon tribe’s sacred artifact, the Demonic Moon Zither, to cultivate.
And the Demonic Moon Zither had refused to acknowledge a master for nearly a hundred thousand years.
Sacred artifacts had wills of their own. If it refused to submit, no one could force it.
Qiu Shi was, in a way, a fortunate exception. On the day she was born, crimson clouds painted the sky, and the resonant notes of a zither echoed from an ancient pavilion. The long-silent zither had given a faint response.
Qiu Shi was the only person in this era capable of communicating with the zither’s spirit.
But why only "half" fortunate?
Because the Demonic Moon Zither had still not acknowledged her as its master.
And as her age and cultivation progressed, Qiu Shi had reached a crossroads.
Her peers, fellow prodigies like her elder brother Song Yunhe, had long since chosen their clan’s heavenly-class techniques. Song Yunhe, for instance, had begun cultivating the Heavenly-Class Art of Breaking Halberds ten thousand years ago and had since reached profound mastery.
Now, Qiu Shi faced only two paths forward:
Either continue down the path of a music cultivator—risking falling behind her peers if the Demonic Moon Zither never acknowledged her, forcing her to switch to an earth-class high-grade technique—
Or abandon everything she had learned thus far, transform her spiritual energy, and cultivate a different heavenly-class technique.
In the dimly lit chamber, Qiu Shi gazed at the ancient zither manual floating mid-air and couldn’t help but wonder: What path had her dream-self ultimately taken?
She must have chosen a different road—one that surely wasn’t smooth.
Leaving home meant she had no say in the celestial-tier techniques, and the Demonic Moon Zither still lay untouched in the ancient pavilion. Without it, the Demonic Moon Zither Manual was no better than scrap paper.
After losing herself in these restless thoughts, Qiu Shi closed her eyes, settling into a meditative pose as she immersed herself in the ethereal realms described within the manual.
Deep into the night, a sudden gust of wind howled.
A blade’s intent—sharp enough to split the heavens—surged skyward, carrying an unstoppable, annihilating will as it tore toward the southwestern corner of the main city’s heart.
That was where Dongheng Courtyard stood.
In the chamber, Qiu Shi’s lashes fluttered before her eyes snapped open.
Qin Donglin had arrived.
