“Alright,” Luo JinXiao agreed, turning to leave the mountain when Elder Liu grabbed her collar, pulling her back.
“Don’t be reckless. The Qu family is a large, powerful clan full of experts. You won’t even get past the gate like this,” Elder Liu scolded, handing her a handwritten letter. “Take this and say you’re fetching something on my behalf. They’ll let you in.”
“Remember, once you find her, only persuade, don’t cause trouble. I won’t clean up your mess,” Elder Liu warned sternly.
“I understand, thank you, Master.” Luo JinXiao took the letter and hurried off.
Elder Liu watched her go, shaking his head as she disappeared into the distance.
Clutching the letter, Luo JinXiao sped on her sword towards the Qu family, located in Wuzhong City beyond several mountains. Wuzhong, nestled in the plains, was a prosperous city home to many cultivation families, due to its proximity to WuHui Sect.
Entering Wuzhong felt like stepping from a peach orchard into the mundane world. Bustling with people, red walls and green tiles interspersed throughout, the city exuded a lively atmosphere. Among the crowd, vendors sold spiritual swords and beasts.
This Wuzhong was vastly different from two thousand years later. The streets were a tangled maze, and after asking many people, Luo JinXiao finally found the Qu family.
The Qu family lived up to its reputation. The high-hanging plaque was untouched by time, its red-painted gate imposing and intimidating.
Luo JinXiao stepped forward and knocked.
The door soon opened, revealing a young man who greeted her politely. “Who are you here to see, miss?”
Feigning calm, Luo JinXiao handed him the letter. “Elder Liu of WuHui Sect sent me.”
He examined the handwriting and smiled. “Follow me.”
Luo JinXiao followed him inside. As soon as she crossed the threshold, the door slammed shut behind her, casting a shadow. Looking back, the massive door rings resembled gaping maws, closing in.
The atmosphere was oppressive. Pushing aside her unease, Luo JinXiao smoothed her dress and followed.
They passed through three gates, each courtyard rich with spiritual herbs and weapons, likely for training younger members. Yet, the place was eerily quiet.
“Why is it so quiet today?” Luo JinXiao asked casually.
The man glanced back, leading the way. “The Qu family is discussing important matters, so no one is here. Once you have what you need, I’ll escort you out.”
A tight-lipped bunch, Luo JinXiao thought.
“Please wait outside,” the man said, gesturing to a side room before nodding and leaving.
Luo JinXiao smiled warmly, but as soon as he was out of sight, her expression hardened, and she took off running.
She crept along the corridors, releasing her spiritual energy to detect others. Soon, she reached a courtyard as large as WuHui Palace, packed with people.
Crouching low, Luo JinXiao slipped to the back of the crowd. The Qu family members were numerous, mostly unfamiliar faces, so she remained unnoticed.
Two men in front of her whispered. “She still hasn’t admitted her mistake?”
“No,” the other replied, sighing. Noticing Luo JinXiao, he nodded in greeting.
Caught off guard, she nodded back awkwardly.
“Are you from a branch family, just arrived?” he asked.
Luo JinXiao quickly put on a modest smile and nodded.
“They’ve been arguing for days. Lucky you arrived late; we’ve been bored stiff. Not that it matters who becomes the head; it won’t be me,” he joked.
“And Qu WeiYin?” Luo JinXiao asked cautiously.
“Qu WeiYin? Calling her that is disrespectful. By your age…” He assessed her, “You should call her Grandmother.”
Luo JinXiao nearly bit her tongue.
“But we’re from branch families. We don’t stand on ceremony. Still, Qu WeiYin is in for a hard time. The family head has been missing for twenty years, likely dead. It’s time to officially appoint a new head. Traditionally, the eldest son inherits, but this time, the head had no sons, only Qu WeiYin. Without a will, and her cultivation not matching Qu Chengzhou’s, she can’t convince anyone. It’s difficult.”
Luo JinXiao understood. Qu Chengzhou had likely been acting as head and now wanted to officially take the position.
Qu WeiYin wouldn’t agree, but what leverage did they have over her to invoke family law?
Luo JinXiao suspected the enmity between Qu WeiYin and Qu Chengzhou ran deeper than their past exploitation—perhaps something involving the original family head…
Clenching her fists, she felt a pang of sympathy for Qu WeiYin.
Suddenly, a loud crash jolted her upright. She strained to see over the crowd, but it was too dense.
She asked the talkative man about the family law, and he explained, “The guilty kneel in the ancestral hall, enduring the pain of the Dragon-Binding Whip, repenting before the ancestors.”
“The Dragon-Binding Whip?” Luo JinXiao echoed, her voice hoarse with shock.
“Aren’t you from the Qu family? Usually, admitting guilt leads to a quick release. The whip is more a threat than a punishment. But Qu WeiYin has knelt for three days without a word.”
The man shook his head. “Her resilience is impressive. I’d rather she become head. But despite her talent, she can’t surpass Qu Chengzhou’s cultivation or the elders’ support.”
“In the end, might makes right,” he sighed.
Luo JinXiao couldn’t listen anymore. She tried to push forward, but her foot froze mid-step.
If Qu WeiYin couldn’t resist with her cultivation, what could she do as a mere Golden Core stage cultivator?
A deep sense of helplessness overwhelmed her, teetering on the edge of anger.
She clenched her fists until they hurt, forcing herself to remain calm. She couldn’t charge in recklessly; she needed a plan.
Forcing a smile, she asked, “Is there any way she can escape?”
“The Dragon-Binding Whip is in Qu Chengzhou’s hands. With tribulation cultivators guarding, escape is impossible.”
Inside, Qu WeiYin was likely seething. Luo JinXiao paced anxiously.
Unnoticed, another person approached—a girl in a light blue cloak with a hood, who tapped Luo JinXiao gently.
Startled, she turned, surprised. “Luo Ning… what are you doing here?”
The man beside them looked puzzled. Luo JinXiao quickly smiled. “My sister.”
Satisfied, the man turned away. Luo Ning leaned in, whispering, “I saw you rush off and asked Elder Liu, then followed you here. When they let you in, we snuck in too.”
We? Luo JinXiao glanced up to see Yan Ying standing a few steps away, arms crossed, looking annoyed.
“I’ll distract Qu Chengzhou. The whip is with him. If he’s distracted, I can slip into the ancestral hall to find Little Martial Aunt,” Luo JinXiao explained succinctly, urgency overriding hesitation.
“We’ll help,” Luo Ning nodded firmly, her face set with determination, turning to Yan Ying.
“Why are you looking at me?” Yan Ying snapped, annoyed. “I’m not helping her.”
A stick of incense later, the Dragon-Binding Whip still encircled the ancestral hall, glowing with a dim blue light.
Suddenly, a piercing bird scream shattered the silence. A massive peacock appeared, its iridescent feathers dazzling in the sunlight.
Chaos erupted as everyone looked up. Even the elders were caught off guard.
“What is this intrusion?” Qu Chengzhou demanded, trying to dispel it with spiritual energy. But the peacock dodged effortlessly, swooping down to drop a large blob of bird droppings squarely on Qu Chengzhou’s face.
Furious, he wiped his face, loosening his hold on the Dragon-Binding Whip. Unnoticed, a faint light slipped through the door crack.
Luo JinXiao landed on one knee, stumbling before standing. She bypassed the family rules inscribed in the hall, rushing inside.
Before the ancestral tablets lay a red figure.
Her head buzzing, Luo JinXiao knelt, cradling Qu WeiYin’s shoulders, drawing her into her arms. She touched her face, whispering, “Little Martial Aunt?”
Thankfully, her skin was warm, though pale, her red lips stark against it, making her seem fragile.
Qu WeiYin’s body was soft and unresponsive, like someone in deep sleep. Luo JinXiao was gentle, fearing to hurt her.
She channeled her spiritual energy to heal, but the Dragon-Binding Whip tightened, and a deafening ringing filled her head. Nearly collapsing, she forced a thread of energy into Qu WeiYin.
Awakened, Qu WeiYin felt the pain, her brows knitting. Her eyes fluttered open, lashes glistening.
Her fingers traced Luo JinXiao’s arm, slipping into her palm, blurring the line between dream and reality. She sighed, or perhaps whispered.
“Luo… JinXiao.”
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