He's Dead

After a brief daze, Xu Yuan rose to his feet almost instinctively, his voice laced with confusion. "Didn't she go to the Imperial Preceptor's Manor to celebrate New Year's Eve? Why is she still in the manor?" Rubbing his muddled head, Xu Yuan started toward the inner courtyard's main gate. But he was truly drunk; walking across the flat floor of the hall, he managed to veer three times off a straight line. The world spun around him so violently that even circulating the Blood Yuan Heart Calamity Art could hardly steady him. Only by lunging two quick steps forward to catch a hall pillar did he save himself from sprawling flat on the ground. Wind and snow brushed against black robes. Xu Yinhe stood at the hall entrance, looking back at Xu Yuan's rather comical stumble, his voice calm. "It is already approaching the hour of the Ox." The hour of the Ox? His sluggish thoughts churned for a moment before Xu Yuan realized that the hour of the Ox followed the hour of the Rat. The distance between the Imperial Preceptor's Manor and the Chancellor's Manor was not actually very far; even an ordinary beast carriage took only about fifteen minutes, and Ran Qingmo on foot would be faster still. Yet his father had said Ran Qingmo had already been pacing outside for nearly half an hour... At the thought, Xu Yuan leaned against the pillar and let out a soft sigh. "She probably came back right after welcoming the new year with the Imperial Preceptor." "Roughly so." "Heh." Xu Yuan chuckled softly, then fell silent. "Aren't you going out to see her?" "……" Thoughts moved slowly when intoxicated, and the cords of reason snapped easily, but Xu Yuan had not yet reached that point. After a brief silence, he looked at the flying snow beneath the pitch-black sky and murmured, "If I see her tonight, why did I bother hiding it in the first place?" Yet after a quiet pause, Xu Yuan asked, "Father, my... how long will this feigned death last?" Xu Yinhe turned his profound gaze toward the Palace City. "At least until he passes away." Xu Yuan's expression grew solemn. "Li Yaoxuan?" Xu Yinhe's voice remained flat. "Aside from him, no one else in this dynasty warrants the term 'imperial demise.'" "Is that so..." Xu Yuan's voice carried a hint of disappointment. Xu Yinhe hesitated for a breath before offering an explanation. "Before he dies, he will certainly strike at the Prime Minister's Manor. I have nothing to fear, but you cannot withstand it." Xu Yuan shook his head gently. "I just remembered the Overseeing Heaven Pavilion claimed Li Yaoxuan would pass away last year." Xu Yinhe glanced at him with mild surprise, cautioning, "Such groundless divinations and prophecies are not to be trusted." "I know," Xu Yuan replied softly, though a flicker of emotion stirred in his eyes. According to the timeline of *Cangyuan*, the Overseeing Heaven Pavilion's prophecy had actually been fairly accurate. In the forty-sixth year of Jiajing, Emperor Jiajing had indeed passed away. Pausing for a breath, Xu Yuan forced himself to stand straight, glanced toward the inner courtyard gate, and said, "Father, may I ask a favor of you?" Xu Yinhe's expression remained unchanged, his words cutting straight to the heart of the matter. "Regarding the Sword Sect?" Xu Yuan smiled. "Truly nothing escapes you." A trace of helplessness crossed Xu Yinhe's eyes. "Ever since your first return to the capital, you have combed through many internal reports concerning the Sword Sect in the study. But this matter is beyond my discretion. The Sword Sect is the bellwether of the Sect Alliance. Only by eliminating it with thunderous force can we deter the sect world." Xu Yuan rubbed the space between his brows, took a step forward, and offered a knowing smile. "I understand that, of course. But Father, my meaning is: could the matter of the Sword Sect be entrusted to me?" Xu Yinhe's gaze instantly sharpened like a falcon's, fixing on Xu Yuan. "We have already discussed this once." Back in Jingjiang Prefecture after slaying Qin Mo, the protagonist of the original plot, Xu Yuan had used the Heavenly Communication Crystal on Xu Changge to ask his father for a chance. This time, however, he wanted more. Feeling the weight of his father's gaze, and perhaps emboldened by the wine, Xu Yuan cast aside all hesitation. Taking a deep breath, he said softly, "That time, I only asked for a chance. This time, I want full charge of it." Times were different now. Back then, he had only just begun cultivating. Now, having gone through Mount Sheng and the Northern Border, he believed his old man would grant him this opportunity. Xu Yinhe slowly closed his eyes and asked in an even tone, "Because of Ran Jianli's disciple?" Xu Yuan smiled faintly. "Yes. I promised her once that I would find a way to save the Sword Sect, and she believed me." A flicker of contemplation entered Xu Yinhe's eyes, as if understanding something, yet his voice remained calm. "That is a promise impossible to fulfill." "How do we know unless we try?" "Changtian, you are still somewhat drunk tonight." "If I were truly drunk, I would already be out there seeing Ran Qingmo." "……" "……" The wind and snow moaned; the hall was quiet. Behind his back, Xu Yinhe's fists tightened and loosened before he exhaled a breath of turbid air in resignation. "What do you plan to do?" Xu Yuan felt a surge of joy, yet looking at the graying temples of the middle-aged man before him, his emotions grew strangely complex. This father truly treated his children too well. Even though crushing the Sword Sect was a crucial component of his grand layout, he was still willing to make adjustments for him. Using his sluggish mind to weigh his words, Xu Yuan said quickly, "I have actually been working on this for a long time, but I cannot share the exact details with you just yet, Father. All I can tell you is that if my plan succeeds, we will not even need to deploy troops against the Sword Sect." A faint smile touched Xu Yinhe's lips. "Changtian, one does not fulfill a promise by making yet another promise." This response came as no surprise to Xu Yuan. Painting rosy pictures was an art, but his old man was clearly not someone to be fed empty promises. Chuckling softly, Xu Yuan looked at him and said, "Therefore, I will not draw upon any aid from the Prime Minister's Manor. I only need you to share all the plans directed against the Sword Sect with me, and when the operation is set into motion, grant me the authority to command that commander once. Just once." Xu Yinhe still did not agree immediately. After pondering for a moment, he asked, "And if your plan fails, what then?" "I will destroy the Sword Sect with my own hands." "……" "……" Having obtained his father's pledge, Xu Yuan braved the wind and snow, swaying with every three steps as he left the main hall of the inner courtyard. On the way back to his own quarters, he inevitably passed the main gate of the inner courtyard. Over the past two hours, the snow on the ground had accumulated past his ankles. The crunch of his footsteps carried far into the quiet night. His gaze lingered on the heavy, broad gates for a brief moment before he quietly drew his eyes away, with no intention of stopping. Ran Qingmo was probably right behind that gate. On this long New Year's Eve, she likely wanted to come into the inner courtyard to ask if he had returned home for the holiday, yet feared disturbing their family reunion. He could even imagine the big block of ice outside the gate, pacing in circles, debating whether to knock. A faint smile rose unbidden to Xu Yuan's lips, but his feet did not pause. The big block of ice should be able to hear his footsteps in the snow. Separated by only a gate, she would only need to sweep her intent-soul forward a fraction to see him. Yet Xu Yuan was not worried in the least. Because her master had said that doing so was impolite. So throughout all their travels, the big block of ice had never used her intent-soul to probe recklessly into someone else's courtyard. Dwelling on these thoughts, Xu Yuan passed the main gate of the inner courtyard before he knew it, returning to his own quarters with lowered eyes. Yet whether it was a drunken illusion or not, just before stepping into his own courtyard gate, he seemed to hear the main gate of the inner courtyard being opened from the inside. *** Xu Yinhe's calm gaze swept across the footprint-covered snow outside, settling on the black-robed young woman standing at the doorway. Looking at the suddenly opened gate and the middle-aged man standing before her, the black-robed girl paused instinctively, her dark eyes opening wide and round. She seemed entirely unprepared for someone inside to suddenly open the door. Yet once she saw who it was, she realized the truth. She had been discovered... After a moment of silence, Ran Qingmo looked at the middle-aged man in the doorway and asked cautiously, "Uncle... did Xu Yuan come home today?" "……" Without replying immediately, the middle-aged man quietly observed the black-robed girl, as though weighing something. After a long while, Under Ran Qingmo's expectant gaze, Xu Yinhe said softly, "He has died." "……" "……" Silence fell, so absolute that one could hear the falling snow. The cautious expression froze on Ran Qingmo's face. She blinked, and then her clear, dark eyes widened by degrees. Her slender fingers clenched beneath her sleeves; her red lips parted as if to speak, but no words came out. She was not foolish. She instantly recalled everything she had seen and heard in the Prime Minister's Manor over the past few days. Not a single servant or retained elder in the manor had ever mentioned Xu Yuan. It was unnatural. Truly unnatural... *Crunch.* Amidst the silence, She took an instinctive step backward into the snow. The calm in her gaze toward the black-robed man gave way to confusion. Her breathing grew hurried, her chest rising and falling as her serene, delicate voice trembled with bewilderment and distress. "He... he's dead?" Watching the girl's reaction, Xu Yinhe sighed inwardly. His expression remained entirely unchanged, his voice steady in the same even tone. "Yes. He said so himself just now."