It was plain to see that Qin Xun wasn’t exactly thrilled about letting Su Mu shoulder such a heavy burden, but as the Elder of Tianquan, he had no choice but to say and do these things.
Ye Qingyu, for her part, didn’t view the matter purely from a personal or big-picture perspective either. Instead, she combined both angles and left the final decision to Su Mu himself.
As for Ye Qingyi—well, Su Mu was confident in his standing at home… (wink wink, nudge nudge).
Anyway, like his master had just said, this was still a long way off, no rush at all. For now, the best move was to focus on building his personal strength until his individual value far outweighed any benefits that came with being the heir. When that day came, even if it was for the greater good, he wouldn’t have to worry anymore.
It wasn’t that he was unwilling to take on responsibility—he just didn’t like it being forced upon him this way.
He was used to fighting tooth and nail; he had no taste for scheming and backstabbing day in and day out.
He even suspected that sending him undercover to the island nation had been part of Nangong Xuan and Yin Tianxi’s larger scheme—just one piece of the puzzle designed to buff up his resume.
Hiss—
Sure enough, the older foxes were always the craftiest. He couldn’t believe it took him this long to figure it out.
Then again, when two former heads of the Beidou faction were pulling the strings together, it’d be more surprising if he had caught on.
“Master, let’s drop this topic—it’s giving me a headache.”
“Alright, alright, we’ll drop it.” Qin Xun smiled warmly and instructed Yang Jie, “Go make us some food. I’m in the mood for a drink or two today.”
“On it.” Yang Jie moved with practiced ease into the kitchen.
Who would’ve guessed that Yang Jie—a man with considerable clout outside—was here doing nothing but laundry, cooking, and running errands?
Of course, he’d volunteered for all of it, and Qin Xun had simply indulged him.
Ye Qingyu glanced at the sky and said, “I hope you’ll look after them for me, Elder Qin. I need to get back to my own affairs—I’ve fallen a bit behind lately.”
Ye Qingyi was about to say something, but her sister cut her off: “Save the sentimental talk. Next time we meet, I want to see a version of you that’s even stronger than now. Remember what I said before—don’t become a man’s accessory. We women have to stand on our own two feet too.”
Ye Qingyi nodded firmly. Though reluctant, she didn’t break down like a little girl—instead, she flashed a confident smile. “Don’t worry, sister. Su Mu wouldn’t dare!”
Su Mu: (°ー°〃)
But then Ye Qingyu turned to Su Mu and added, “Don’t spoil her too much. If she needs a good smack, give her one—she’s tough as nails now anyway, doesn’t even feel pain. Otherwise, you’ll be the one suffering later, and don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Absolutely, absolutely…” Su Mu felt like he was unstoppable right now—even if his old man showed up, he’d be ready to throw down.
Only three people remained in the courtyard. Qin Xun set Taoyao on the stone table and said to Su Mu, “If you’re not in a hurry to use this blade, I’d like to keep it here for a while. I’ll return it once I’ve documented everything inside.”
“Master, if you need it, it’s yours to keep.”
“How could I? ‘The peach tree blooms so bright, its blaze of flowers shines.’ If you’re going to give it away, it certainly shouldn’t be to me.” Qin Xun teased.
Ye Qingyi pretended not to understand, looking clueless—but the blush creeping up to her ears gave her away.
“With your blessing, Master—when that day comes, I’ll present Taoyao to the girl I love most, right in front of you.”
As he said this, Su Mu stole a glance at Ye Qingyi. Their eyes met just in time, and seeing her flustered, he cheekily added, “I was talking about my future bride—I didn’t mean you. Why are you blushing?”
He then raised an eyebrow with exaggerated knowingness: “Oh~ I see, you want to be—hiss, easy there, that hurts…”
Qin Xun watched the two of them bicker with a hearty laugh—until a sudden tightness gripped his chest. He bore the discomfort with a smile on his face, only letting it show after a few breaths, a fine sheen of sweat beading on his forehead.
In the kitchen, Yang Jie’s knife paused mid-chop. After a long moment, the rhythmic sound resumed—but the rhythm was off, and by the time the meal was done, there was a fresh cut on his finger.
Qin Xun relished every bite of that meal. Ye Qingyi, ever perceptive, joined Su Mu in calling him “Master,” which had the old man beaming from ear to ear.
After the meal, Qin Xun raised his cup for a sip and said to Yang Jie, “You should head back with them. The Tianjiao Camp needs you more. This old man has plenty of people to look after me—no need to keep you tethered here.”
Yang Jie said nothing, only gave a slight nod.
He knew his master’s words were not up for debate, so he chose to accept them.
“All of you must focus on bettering yourselves. When the nation faces trials in the future, it’ll be you who must step up. Don’t let the current peace and China’s strength fool you—the undercurrents are fierce. Every major power is banding together to push back against China; it’s an open secret, just not spoken aloud.”
At Qin Xun’s unexpected admonition, both Yang Jie and Su Mu nodded in unison.
Su Mu sighed. “Every faction knows a great disaster is heading for Earth, yet they still can’t let go of their infighting. At this rate, humanity will be a scattered mess—when the time comes, we’ll be utterly crushed.”
“Those not of our kind are bound to have different hearts. That principle holds true in any era, without exception.
When there’s no external threat, every faction treats the others as outsiders. Only when a common enemy appears can we unite as one force.
If one day China grows so powerful that nothing can shake it, internal conflicts may well arise. The ancients already had a saying for it—’Survival springs from hardship, perdition from comfort.'”
Qin Xun’s voice involuntarily grew heavier on the word “perdition.”
He raised his gaze to the north, where the Big Dipper was faintly visible. The fourth star—the one connecting the bowl to the handle—flickered intermittently, as though hinting at something to come.
…
At the capital’s airport.
Yang Jie was the last to board. He cast one final look at the bustling city behind him, then stepped into the cabin without hesitation.
He’d arranged for Su Mu and Ye Qingyi to sit together, while he sat alone in the row ahead of them.
None of the three spoke a word, like strangers.
Ye Qingyi held Su Mu’s hand in hers, feeling the warmth of his palm, gently rubbing it as she studied his face.
When they’d left Qin Xun’s courtyard, he’d been so cheerful—and now he looked like this.
Of course, Ye Qingyi knew why.
Most people might need to read someone’s complexion or sense their energy to gauge their health, but not her. She could tell life from death at a single glance.
It wasn’t a hundred percent accurate, but the odds were high.
She’d seen it the moment she laid eyes on Qin Xun yesterday—his days were numbered. The Six-Headed Serpent Spirit Herb had indeed repaired his foundation and extended his lifespan, but it hardly mattered. It was only the difference between “months” and “years.”
Still, one thing was clear: Qin Xun adored Taoyao. He seemed to have plans to fill his remaining days with purpose, rather than quietly waiting for the end.
The plane took off, tearing through the clouds at breakneck speed, bridging the gap between earth and sky.
