When Xia heard Xiao say this, he frowned slightly, his sharp gaze settling on him.
“You mean… Sheng Yuanli?”
The Sheng family had two central figures. Sheng Chengxiu was now difficult to locate, but Sheng Yuanli was in the capital.
After thinking for a moment, Xia Lanshi analyzed in a low voice, “As the Vice Minister of Revenue, Sheng Yuanli is not only extremely cautious, but also shrewd and calculating. When I first began suspecting that he was the mastermind behind the Blood Theft Project, I had already begun investigating him in secret. Yet I was never able to find any concrete evidence.”
“Indeed.” Xiao nodded in agreement. “Sheng Yuanli’s mind is no less meticulous than Sheng Chengxiu’s. In fact, after spending so many years immersed in officialdom, he has more experience than a young man and knows even better how to conceal his traces.”
Hearing this, Su Muchen’s heart jolted, and he finally understood completely.
This was why Xiao had previously been willing to risk suffering the Gate’s brutal punishment just to sternly warn them that Sheng Chengxiu and Sheng Yuanli must never be allowed to meet.
One Sheng Chengxiu was already troublesome enough.
If he were allowed to meet Sheng Yuanli, the two of them could piece together the knowledge that had been severed four hundred years ago. And with Han Dongji as the Gate Key…
The consequences would be something no one might be able to stop.
Xiao Yuan’s expression was cold and grave.
“We sent Secret Guards into the Sheng residence long ago. We also tried to plant informants and buy people within the Sheng household. But Sheng Yuanli has an extremely unusual way of controlling his core information. Everyone knows only the part they are supposed to know. The central secrets are virtually impossible to penetrate.”
Xiao nodded.
“That old fox’s family originated in commerce and once had close ties with the Su family. Naturally, they are no ordinary clan. He can make everything watertight, but the people who work with him and whose interests are tied to his may not be capable of leaving no trace.”
Xiao lightly tapped his fingers against the table.
The study fell into a brief, suffocating silence.
Their minds raced as each of them silently filtered through every name on the list of Sheng Yuanli’s followers.
After a moment, Xiao Yuan suddenly raised his eyes, a cold glint flashing through his dark gaze.
“…Xia Zhongqian?”
Seeing the trace of confusion in Su Muchen’s eyes, Xiao Yuan briefly explained, “He is the Junior Vice Minister of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices, and the head of a collateral branch of the Xia clan.”
As he spoke, his gaze shifted slightly toward Xia Lanshi beside him.
“…He is also Huaiyu’s maternal grandfather.”
Su Muchen was slightly startled. He keenly noticed that Xiao Yuan had not directly called him “maternal grandfather.”
There was perhaps a complicated and heavy family history behind Xia Lanshi.
With tacit understanding, Su Muchen did not ask further. He simply nodded quietly.
Xia Lanshi, however, showed little reaction, as though they were discussing an unrelated stranger.
He calmly continued, “I have also had people investigate Xia Zhongqian. Using Grand Tutor Xia’s connections, I secretly examined a hundred years of Xia clan genealogical records. Some children had no maternal family recorded, some had no known biological father, and some had nothing left but a name. It is as though someone deliberately erased their true origins. But there is no definitive evidence.”
The evidence concerning those hidden “secret children,” as well as information from the midwives who handled their births and those who knew about them, had all been erased extremely thoroughly.
And Xia Lanshi knew very well that the secret children recorded in the documents were merely the tip of the iceberg.
There were others for whom not even a record existed.
Xiao’s tone was certain.
“That old fox leaves no loose ends. He would never allow his collaborators to expose their tails easily. If Xia Zhongqian had no ability of his own, the old fox would have gotten rid of him long ago and replaced him with someone else.”
He raised his eyes and looked around at the three of them, a knowing smile in his eyes.
“But… the moment a person believes they will never make a mistake, the flaw has already appeared.”
Su Muchen finally sensed that something was wrong.
In fact, he had sensed it much earlier.
Xiao knew far too much about matters in Dasheng.
He seemed to know the affairs of even these ministers as though he had everything at his fingertips.
As though… he already knew certain things.
Xia Lanshi’s gaze sharpened slightly as he looked deeply at Xiao.
That certainty in his tone did not sound like something deduced from intelligence.
It sounded more like… an observer who had once witnessed this opponent stumble firsthand.
He remained silent for a moment.
His mind rapidly ran through all the connections he could still mobilize.
In the end, only one person remained.
“The Xia clan’s genealogy, the clan elders, the old residences and ancestral shrines in the capital… Looking at the entire Xia family, only Grand Tutor Xia, with his virtue, seniority, and prestige, now has both the authority and the qualifications to access all of them.”
Xia Lanshi thought for a moment before speaking decisively.
“I’ll write a letter immediately and ask Grand Tutor Xia to intervene.”
Xiao Yuan made the decision at once and issued the order in a low voice.
“Send the order. Activate the eight-hundred-li emergency secret courier route. At all costs, this letter must reach the Grand Tutor within seven days.”
Xia Lanshi bowed his head.
“Yes, Your Highness.”
The study fell silent once again.
Everyone knew.
Once this letter was sent, they would no longer be investigating only Sheng Yuanli.
They would be investigating the entire Xia clan.
A long-sealed case from the past would also be reopened from this moment onward.
Su Muchen lowered his eyes toward the black book on the table.
He suddenly thought that if Han Dongji truly did not know that he was a Gate Key, if he knew nothing at all…
If Sheng Chengxiu approached him now, or if he fell into Sheng Yuanli’s hands…
Then what would happen to him?
He did not dare think any further.
There were so many people protecting him at his side.
But what about Han Dongji?
When Xia Lanshi left the study, Xiao immediately followed him out.
Xiao Yuan watched the two of them disappear into the distance, deep in thought.
◆◇◆◇◆
Late at night, when everything was quiet, the study inside the residence of Xia Zhongqian, Junior Vice Minister of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices, was lit by a candle that had burned down to barely half its length. Occasionally, the wick made a faint crackling sound.
Xia Zhongqian sat alone before the desk.
Lying quietly before him was a letter that had just been secretly delivered by Sheng Yuanli’s Secret Guard.
The paper was extremely thin. The handwriting was forceful and cold. There was no signature and no explicit threat, yet every word struck directly at the vital point.
————————
The Northern Frontier is beset by troubles; the old snow is beginning to melt.
If what was left behind in those years remains in this world, it will eventually bring ruin upon the entire clan.
The white child is inherently rebellious. If he lives, the game will inevitably be thrown into chaos.
Take care, Lord Xia.
————————
There were only a few short lines.
It did not mention Xia Lanshi.
It did not mention the Sheng family.
Nor did it mention the “plan” that could never see the light of day.
But Xia Zhongqian understood every single word.
It was Sheng Yuanli’s handwriting.
And it was Sheng Yuanli’s blade.
The study was deathly silent.
Xia Zhongqian stared at the sheet of paper for a long time.
There was no panic.
No anger.
Not even a tremor.
Instead, the corner of his lips moved extremely slowly.
It was not a smile, but the weary absurdity of someone who had been crushed beneath an invisible burden for decades and had finally seen a crack appear.
“You finally… started getting scared too.”
His words echoed through the night, and the air in the study seemed to weigh a thousand jin.
For decades, Sheng Yuanli had always been the one who controlled the entire situation, calculating everything so tightly that not even a crack could be found.
And the Xia family could only cooperate in fear and trembling from the shadows.
Yet today, the normally watertight Vice Minister of Revenue could no longer sit still. He had written such an urgent and cryptic letter that was practically a death warrant.
Sheng Yuanli never wrote letters.
But today, he had.
That meant the initiative was beginning to slip.
Sheng Yuanli… was getting anxious.
He did not know what had made that old fox anxious.
But the letter had clearly mentioned—
the white child.
The person who had escaped from his grasp twenty years ago.
Xia Zhongqian slowly closed his eyes.
In the darkness, his mind began calculating the few paths that remained, rejecting each thought one by one.
The first path: remain silent.
He had walked this road for decades.
As long as he continued to remain silent, as long as he shut his eyes a little tighter, perhaps…
…No.
He knew Sheng Yuanli’s methods too well.
If that had worked,
he would not have received this letter today.
Once the hounds caught the scent of blood, the hunter would never allow those who knew the truth to continue living while pretending to know nothing.
This time, pretending to be deaf and dumb could no longer protect the Xia family.
The second path: make the white child—Xia Lanshi—disappear completely.
As long as the white child died and Sheng Yuanli was satisfied, the Xia family could continue barely clinging to life.
The moment this thought appeared, his hand clenched sharply, his knuckles turning white.
He instinctively thought of his daughter.
That poor woman who had been dragged into the conspiracy for the sake of the family’s interests, who had broken down mentally after day after day of despair and torment, and who had ultimately chosen to end her life on a cold winter night.
He could never forget that snowy night.
That pale figure hanging from a white silk sash, swaying in the freezing wind.
To this day, the memory still cut at his heart like a dull knife.
Xia Zhongqian opened his eyes, his gaze filled with desolation.
He could wrong anyone.
But if he laid a hand on Xia Lanshi, how would that be any different from killing his daughter with his own hands?
Silence spread through the room.
He was not noble enough to immediately step forward, sacrifice his own family for justice, and expose everything.
Because he knew all too well.
If he handed over all the evidence now, what would it mean?
—The collateral branch of the Xia clan would be stripped of its property and arrested in an instant.
—As the principal culprit, he himself would have no hope of escaping death.
—The Xia women who had been sent into the palace for the sake of the family’s honor and disgrace would all be implicated.
—And those secret children would all be unable to escape the calamity.
The cost of destroying both sides was something the Xia family could not bear.
He was no hero.
He was merely a man who had been trapped in the family’s mire for decades and had long since been exhausted.
But he knew that there was nowhere left for him to retreat.
He did not stand immediately.
He simply stared at the letter.
For a long time.
Twenty years ago.
He had closed the truth away.
Today.
He would open it with his own hands.
Xia Zhongqian slowly rose.
He did not immediately burn the secret letter. Instead, he turned and walked toward the hidden wall at the deepest part of the study.
It led toward the clan genealogy archive within the residence.
He stood before a concealed wooden cabinet covered in dust, his palm resting against the cold hidden compartment.
For a long time, he did not push it open.
…Twenty years.
Ever since his daughter’s death, he had never touched this door again.
The heavy wood seemed to have sealed away the entire rotten past of the family.
Click.
The hidden compartment sprang open.
Inside lay a small nanmu box covered in a layer of dust.
The box was not large.
There were three objects inside.
Xia Zhongqian carried the box out and returned to the desk.
The night was deep.
He summoned his most loyal confidant, a man who had followed him through half a lifetime of storms.
The confidant entered the study without a sound.
Seeing the wooden box on the table and the gloomy expression on his master’s face, he immediately bowed his head.
“Master.”
Xia Zhongqian pushed the dust-covered wooden box toward him.
His voice was hoarse, but carried an unquestionable resolve.
“Keep this safe. Hide it in the safest place you can find.”
The confidant raised his head, a trace of fear flashing through his eyes.
“Master, this is…?”
Xia Zhongqian lifted his murky yet sharp eyes and spoke in a low voice.
“You do not need to know what it is. You only need to keep it safe. If I suddenly die, even if it costs you your life, you must deliver it to Grand Tutor Xia.”
Then he gave another order.
“Keep an eye on the people on this list.”
He quickly wrote down several names with a brush and handed them to his confidant.
“Report to me immediately if anything happens.”
The confidant accepted the order and left with the box and the list.
The capital’s night remained filled with countless glowing lamps, music, and singing that continued without end.
Yet beyond the window, the heavy darkness was like thick ink that could never be diluted, pressing down until one could barely breathe.
No one knew that two letters, each carrying a weight heavier than a thousand jun, were quietly crossing paths beneath different night skies.
The thin sheets of paper collided silently within invisible currents, quietly turning the heavy gears of fate.
A storm was coming.
And upon this chessboard of all living beings, who would see through the maze, and who would be doomed to endless calamity?
◆◇◆◇◆
Ever since the Northern Frontier Administrative Office gained a new guest adviser, Mr. Liuchu, a peculiar sight had quietly appeared within the office.
The seemingly cold, aloof, and unapproachable Mr. Liuchu had, after officially taking up his post at the administrative office, developed an astonishingly single-minded focus in his daily life.
Wherever Chief Administrator Xia went, that figure in crimson could always be found following not too far behind.
One in white and one in red, inseparable as shadows, were particularly eye-catching.
Today.
As usual, Chi Banyue timed it perfectly, carrying a freshly brewed bowl of medicinal soup toward the East Courtyard.
This had always been her unwavering habit. No matter how busy she was, she always made sure to personally watch Xia Lanshi finish his medicine.
But just as she reached the small tea room, she nearly walked straight into someone.
She instinctively looked up.
She met Xiao’s deep, fathomless eyes.
Xiao was quick enough to steady the tray in her hands before any of the medicine could spill.
Then, with complete naturalness, he took it from her.
“Miss Banyue is busy with countless affairs every day. From now on, leave these little things to me.”
Xiao’s tone was calm, yet carried an unquestionable sense of natural authority.
Chi Banyue was startled at first.
Then her eyes flashed.
The nerve in her heart dedicated to gossip instantly went taut.
On the surface, she remained perfectly composed. She even smiled along with the situation, a meaningful, teasing look hidden in her eyes.
“Since Mr. Liuchu has volunteered, I’m naturally happy to let you take over.”
Chi Banyue smiled until the corners of her eyes curved upward, deliberately adding a reminder.
“But after you deliver it, you must make sure he drinks every last drop himself. Once that man gets busy, he forgets everything else and immediately forgets his medicine, too.”
“Of course.”
Xiao nodded, his tone utterly certain.
“I’ll watch him drink it. You needn’t worry.”
Watching the crimson figure carry the bowl of medicine away, Chi Banyue remained where she stood, silently covering her mouth with one hand, her shoulders trembling slightly.
She thought to herself:
Well, well. This man changes his tune faster than he turns a page.
Not long ago, he could hardly wait to push Xia Lanshi as far away from him as possible.
And now he was even fighting her for the job of delivering his medicine.
Inside the East Courtyard study, Xia Lanshi was buried beneath a mountain of documents, so engrossed in them that he had not even noticed how much the candle had burned down.
Only when a footstep so light it was almost inaudible stopped before his desk, followed by a warm bowl of medicinal soup being gently placed on the small table beside him, did he pause and raise his head.
Xiao did not urge him.
He simply pulled over a chair and sat down, replaced the tea that had been warming over the brazier, and gazed gently at Xia Lanshi’s slightly tired brows and eyes.
“It’s still hot. Keep working for now,” Xiao said lightly. “Drink it when it cools a little.”
Xia Lanshi glanced at him without speaking. A trace of warmth passed through his eyes before he lowered his head and continued reviewing the documents.
Xiao simply sat there quietly.
He neither disturbed nor urged him, as though merely being able to watch the other person like this made even the long passage of years feel like an ordinary stretch of time within reach of the hand.
The people throughout the administrative office quickly grew accustomed to these two inseparable figures.
When Xia Lanshi went to inspect the granaries, the red robes followed.
When Xia Lanshi read military maps beneath the sunlight, a paper umbrella would always appear beside him at just the right moment, shielding him from the glaring rays.
Delivering medicine, accompanying him on inspections, bringing tea at night—
things that had originally belonged to other people somehow became the responsibility of that figure in red.
And all of this fell into the eyes of the person sitting at the head of the administrative office.
One evening, the warm hall glowed with candlelight.
As usual, Xiao Yuan effortlessly picked the fattiest, most tender piece of meat and placed it into Su Muchen’s bowl.
Su Muchen had long since grown accustomed to it. He quietly thanked him and continued eating with complete concentration.
Across the table, Xiao’s movements paused slightly.
His peripheral vision swept over the scene before him, and then he lowered his eyes.
His long fingers held the chopsticks as he deftly removed one tiny fish bone after another, then placed the snow-white fish meat into Xia Lanshi’s bowl.
Xia Lanshi’s expression remained unchanged. He did not even lift his eyelashes as he naturally picked it up and put it into his mouth.
Xiao Yuan: “…”
Xiao: “…”
Chi Banyue, who had once again found herself an excellent seat for the meal, silently turned her head away, her shoulders trembling.
On one side, his own cousin and the Su family’s Gate Key had been “carried off” by Prince Su.
On the other, the Chief Administrator he had raised for years, who was also his half-brother, had been “carried off” by the Gatekeeper.
Both sides had quite a few complaints about the other, yet neither could bring themselves to say it openly.
Chi Banyue nearly laughed herself to death watching them.
She normally had no habit of appearing in the warm hall at mealtimes.
Lately, however, she had been reporting here quite frequently.
Because this was simply too entertaining to eat without.
The following afternoon, beneath the century-old Chinese scholar tree in the courtyard, the canopy of green shade spread overhead, while fallen leaves fluttered down like snow.
Beside the stone table, Xiao and Xia Lanshi were absorbed in a game of Go, quietly discussing the details of the Northern Frontier’s defenses.
Xiao Yuan happened to pass by with Su Muchen.
Seeing that the two were enjoying a rare moment of leisure, he casually walked over.
Xiao Yuan took a seat in the empty chair and casually glanced at the board.
The final white stone was placed, declaring the game decided—
Xia Lanshi had lost by half a stone.
“Across all of Dasheng, there are fewer than three people who can defeat Huaiyu at Go.”
Xiao Yuan raised a brow, a hint of amusement in his tone.
Xiao’s expression remained calm.
“It merely means I have played a few more games than other people. Nothing particularly impressive. I lost one just now, too.”
Xiao Yuan gave a light laugh and spoke naturally.
“In that case, would Mr. Liuchu be willing to play a game with me?”
“If His Highness is interested, I’ll be happy to oblige.”
A silent battle unfolded between the black and white stones.
The style of the game reflected the players themselves.
Xiao Yuan played with sweeping, forceful moves, decisive and ruthless.
Xiao, meanwhile, was as steady as the sea, advancing step by step.
“Before, I always felt that you seemed determined to avoid me and had no intention of working for me.”
Xiao Yuan held a black stone between his fingers and spoke casually, though a trace of probing was hidden in his tone.
Xiao raised his eyes to meet his gaze, completely unruffled.
“His Highness has misunderstood.”
A smile lingered at the corner of his lips, and there was a hint of provocation in his voice.
“Even now, I am not working for His Highness.”
He precisely placed the white stone on a star point, his tone calm.
“I have always worked for the ‘Gate.’ Whether as a guest adviser or a consultant, those are merely titles that make it convenient for me to operate in the human world.”
Xiao Yuan was momentarily speechless.
Perhaps Xiao was the only person in the world who dared speak to him so brazenly.
He had always known that although Xiao called him “His Highness” at every turn, there had never been any genuine respect in the honorific.
Instead, there was deliberate distance.
Xiao remained here now only because of Xia Lanshi and because he was pursuing a certain purpose.
Su Muchen and Xia Lanshi watched the game from the side.
Listening to the two men’s conversation, Su Muchen vaguely felt a faint scent of gunpowder drifting through the air.
Back then, Xiao had repeatedly warned him to stay away from Xiao Yuan.
And now this great deity had fallen into the very same trap himself.
The double standard was practically shameless.
For a moment, Su Muchen felt a headache coming on, unsure how he could possibly smooth things over.
Xia Lanshi, meanwhile, lowered his eyes to the chessboard, his thoughts growing heavier.
He had always planned far ahead.
He had even secretly considered that if Xiao Yuan needed to consolidate his power in the future, marriage alliances with influential clans might be an unavoidable path.
But now…
With Su Muchen breaking through the barrier between the two worlds and coming to the Northern Frontier, Xiao Yuan and Su Muchen were practically inseparable in the rear courtyard.
Anyone could see what Xiao Yuan felt.
It seemed that path was no longer available.
However, Su Muchen’s value was difficult to estimate.
That was also why Xia Lanshi had always remained observant and silent.
Xiao Yuan placed down another stone and suddenly gave a soft laugh, though there was no amusement in his eyes.
“Mr. Liuchu, there is something I have always wanted to ask you.”
Xiao Yuan slowly raised his eyes, his gaze piercing directly toward Xiao.
“The person who originally advised me to stay away from Mu’an… was you, wasn’t it?”
Xiao: “…”
“You said I was ambitious. You said the imperial family understood worldly affairs better than anyone and was also the best at harming people. You said he was too innocent and would sooner or later be dragged by me into the mire of power and cause and effect, where he would be torn to pieces.”
Xiao Yuan leisurely repeated Xiao’s words back to him without missing a single one.
Su Muchen: “Cough!!”
Su Muchen had just taken a sip of tea when he suddenly choked violently upon hearing this.
Only now did he learn that Xiao had actually sought out Xiao Yuan and said all these things to him.
Xia Lanshi: “…”
He silently picked up his teacup, watching the fire from across the river and waiting to see what happened next.
Xiao Yuan calmly added one final sentence.
“Now the positions of host and guest have been reversed. It’s my turn.”
He gave a cold snort, his gaze sharp as he swept it across the two men opposite him.
“I disagree.”
Xiao: “…”
Xia Lanshi finally put down his teacup and raised his cool, clear eyes to look calmly at Xiao Yuan.
“Is His Highness planning to make the decision about my marriage as well?”
“I only said ‘I disagree.’”
Xiao Yuan’s voice was slightly heavy, yet carried a trace of helpless protectiveness.
“But if I disagree, do you two really think you’ll obediently obey me?”
He withdrew his gaze from Xiao and finally settled it on Xia Lanshi, his eyes softening somewhat.
“Huaiyu, to me, you ceased being an ordinary minister long ago. You are family, someone as close to me as blood. Naturally, I hope that your years ahead will be peaceful and that you will find a good partner.”
After saying this, Xiao Yuan turned his gaze toward Xiao and asked him, word by word, in a low voice:
“Can you guarantee that you will protect him for the rest of his life, that his path will be smooth and free of future troubles?”
“What if one day, only Huaiyu is left?”
Silence descended around the chessboard.
Sunlight filtered through the gaps between the scholar tree’s leaves, casting scattered patches of light across the board.
Xiao remained silent for a long time.
Some promises were too heavy for a Gatekeeper who had lived through such long years.
“A lifetime” was too short, while there were too many variables.
He could not promise anyone forever.
Just when Xiao Yuan thought he would avoid answering, Xiao slowly raised his eyes.
Those ancient-well-calm eyes now churned with a depth of emotion and determination that outsiders could not understand.
“There are some things I truly cannot guarantee. Whether it is an age of peace and prosperity or a peaceful life in old age.”
Xiao’s voice was quiet, yet carried the weight of a thousand jun.
“I cannot guarantee that I will live longer than he does, nor can I guarantee that I can accompany him to the very end. But as long as I am still standing, as long as I have even one breath left in me, no one will be able to cross over me to hurt him.”
Xia Lanshi was slightly startled.
It felt as though something had struck him hard in the heart.
He had not expected Xiao to admit it so directly in front of Xiao Yuan.
He raised his eyes to meet Xiao’s gaze, the corners of his lips curving into a faint smile.
Then he turned toward Xiao Yuan, his tone gentle yet firm.
“Your Highness, I have never wanted a long life. The length of one’s life is something no person can determine. If, out of fear of losing something, you never possess it in the first place, that is what would truly be regrettable.”
He knew his own physical condition better than anyone.
An illness that would be nothing more than a minor matter to an ordinary person could become a fatal crisis for him.
He had already passed through countless brushes with death.
He had long since seen through it all.
Xia Lanshi’s gaze fell upon Xiao.
The usual coldness had faded from his eyes, leaving behind a rare tenderness.
“Just as the ancients once said—‘Who says the hibiscus is born with too short a life? Pity that its crimson blooms endure for only half a year.’”
“Though the hibiscus opens at dawn and withers by evening, its life is brief, yet it blooms one after another in succession, each blossom following the last in brilliant splendor. It is far more passionate and enduring than the long yet cold dealings of the human world.”
Xiao Yuan looked at the two people before him.
In the end, he let out a long sigh.
Within that sigh was his concern for a subordinate who was also family, as well as the helplessness of someone thinking, “In the end, there’s simply nothing I can do with you two.”
“Forget it.”
Xiao Yuan leaned back against his chair and looked at the Gatekeeper across from him, who was always so capable of planning everything ahead.
Then he suddenly let out a self-mocking laugh.
“So this… is what it feels like to stand on the opposing side and worry about someone else’s marriage.”
Xiao was slightly startled.
Then, seeing Xiao Yuan’s frustrated and helpless expression, he finally could not suppress the upward curve of his lips and gave a quiet laugh as well.
“So I’ve already given up.”
Xiao shifted his gaze slightly toward Su Muchen before gently shaking his head.
“I no longer want to waste my breath. You two can figure it out yourselves.”
Su Muchen quietly looked away.
He thought:
It seems there is no longer any way to hide the fact that the Gate Key had been “carried off.”
But from the sound of it, Xiao was no longer opposed.
Beneath the scholar tree, the wind passed silently, and fallen leaves rustled.
The black-and-white position on the chessboard no longer mattered.
Through the long and turbulent years of the human world, some causes and effects had ultimately been settled in this game, with no regret over the stones that had been placed.
The victory or defeat of the chessboard would eventually have an ending.
The black and white stones would eventually be returned to their boxes.
But some people, from that moment onward, became stones in each other’s destinies that could never again be moved.