Du Juan continued, her gaze fixed on the first stars pricking the twilight.
"As she grew... I noticed a problem during one of her breakthroughs."
Her fingers tightened, not in anger, but as if physically holding her sister’s pain.
"When... I checked. I found a tiny leak in her dantian."
"And the doctor confird the worst." Her voice, though soft, carried the weight of irrevocable truth.
"Each step upward in cultivation... it would only widen the leakage. The gathering pressure..." She closed her eyes briefly, the image too cruel to voice fully.
"It will tear her apart. Slowly. Inevitably." The dread wasn’t sharp, but a deep, sorrowful ache.
"To walk the path... is to walk toward her own ruin. She she has no clue and walks with a deep passion."
She finally t Fang Yuan’s eyes again.
Unshed tears made them luminous, not weak, but reflecting a love fierce enough to challenge fate.
"The Seven-Ring Lotus... it’s the only chance. To nd that crack before it shatters her."
Her plea wasn’t a demand, but the quiet desperation of a drowning woman offering her soul for a lifeline.
A sigh escaped her, more weary than bitter. "So I went into the Night Forest. Found the Lotus. And also found the beast destiny placed there."
Her hand drifted unconsciously to her lower abdon, a gesture of rembered agony, not defiance.
She leaned forward, not with predatory intensity, but with a fragile urgency that made her seem younger. "I need that second pill, Fang Clan Head. Not for . For her. Before the fracture becos huge enough and devour her."
Her voice, though strained, retained its inherent grace. "Na your price. Two hundred years? Three hundred? My life."
The offers weren’t threats, but treasures laid humbly at his feet.
"I will pay. Whatever is asked. Just... save her."
Fang Yuan watched her.
The moonlight caught the sheen in her eyes, the tremor in her clasped hands.
Her sister. The explanation resonated deeply with him.
Fang Tian’s small hand in his after the funeral pyre cooled yet instinct, honed by years of hidden sches and betrayals, whispered caution.
A convenient tale? A Nascent Soul, even broken, is a valuable piece. Why offer more than asked?
He noted the raw sincerity in her voice, the unconscious touch to her ruined dantian, signs of truth, or a masterful performance?
He saw her value: a potential powerhouse bound by necessity and gratitude.
But he also started seeing the leverage: the sister.
A weakness, yes, but one that could bind Du Juan tighter than any oath... or beco a vulnerability for him if exploited by enemies.
His suspicion was a cold stone in his gut, masked by the calm surface.
His hand moved, smooth and deliberate.
He reached for the wine bottle, refilling both cups.
The amber liquid swirled, catching starlight, a ritual sealing the pact.
He slid her cup back across the stone, the gesture almost tender. A show of trust, or the first move in a longer ga?
"...Two pills," he finally stated, his voice low but carrying absolute certainty. "And two hundred years of your strength guarding my family."
He t her desperate gaze, his own eyes holding a depth of comprehension that went beyond the transaction. "The terms are accepted, Du Juan."
He raised his cup slightly, a silent toast to sisters, to brothers, and to the lengths one would go to protect them.
"We prioritize your sister first, of course. Her healing secures your focus."
And binds you utterly to .
The unspoken thought hung in the fragrant air, a ghost only Fang Yuan acknowledged.
Fang Yuan tilted his head to the heavens, eyes tracing the silvered edges of drifting clouds.
The wind was fragrant, tinged with jasmine and still-warm stone.
"You may leave now," he said softly. "I want so peace and quiet."
Du Juan bowed with grace, wordless, then vanished down the moonlit path.
Her steps faded, swallowed by the silence of the night.
After a while, Fang Yuan let out a long, weary sigh, quiet but heavy.
"Co out."
The words were spoken without force, yet they carved through the still air with a weight that left no room for denial. He didn’t turn.
Whether his gaze still lingered on the distant path or rested behind closed eyes, only he knew but his voice bore no surprise. Only tired inevitability.
For a mont, nothing. Then—
A dramatic, breathy gasp.
Deliberate and practiced.
From beneath the heavy shadow of a blooming Wisteria tree, a figure erged, swathed in moonlight and mischief.
Lin Zhaoyue stepped forward, her movent almost too graceful, like mist gliding across still water.
She brought a hand to her chest in mock alarm. "Husband! You startled !"
Her expression was wide-eyed perfection, exaggerated innocence painted across features far too clever to ever be mistaken as naive.
She floated toward him, her smile radiant, brittle, and false as polished jade.
"I was rely admiring the moonflowers," she cooed, gesturing lazily at a patch of pale blossoms nearby.
"They’re particularly luminous tonight, don’t you think?" Her eyes never once strayed to the flowers.
They remained fixed on him, keen and bright, searching his face for any hint he might believe her charade.
"This garden," she added, her voice a syrup-slick murmur, "is truly the most serene place for contemplation in the entire estate. So very... peaceful."
The irony in her tone was thick enough to slice with a blade.
She halted a pace away, folding her hands before her in dainty decorum, an image of poised, demure restraint. Her head tilted slightly.
"I had no idea you were having such a serious conversation," she said, blinking far too slowly. "Forgive if I lingered... too close. By accident, of course."
Her tone was apologetic. Her eyes were anything but.
"That woman," she added, voice dipped in honey, "seed quite distressed. Is everything alright, Husband?"
Her gaze slid over him not seeking exhaustion or worry, but sothing else.
A scent. A warmth. A trace. Anything left behind that wasn’t hers.
"You look... tired," she whispered, and smiled sweetly. "Would you like to stay and comfort you?"
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