Six figures entered the manor and were met with a spectacle of white shrouds draped everywhere, interspersed with black cloth umbrellas. The air hung heavy and solemn, thick with the scent of burning yellow paper.
Wang Yuanchu’s face grew progressively grim, his pace slowing until, as he neared the main hall, his steps became leaden. He stopped dead, unable to move for a long moment, simply staring ahead.
Two rows of people stood outside the hall: middle-aged men in the front, younger men behind, all standing ramrod straight, their expressions blank, like wooden figures.
Suddenly, someone noticed the group and called out, “Eldest Young Master!”
Heads snapped around, eyes lighting up. A unified chorus of greetings followed, hands clasped in salute: “Greetings to the Eldest Young Master!”
Wang Yuanchu, his mind elsewhere, waved a distracted hand toward the hall.
“Eldest Young Master, you’ve finally returned!” A middle-aged man stepped forward, his face grave, and sighed softly. “Fifth Young Master, he…”
“Uncle Feng, is it true about Fifth Brother?” Wang Yuanchu asked, his teeth chattering as his voice trembled.
“Alas…” The middle-aged man nodded slowly, letting out a long, drawn-out sigh.
Wang Yuanchu’s face paled further, turning the color of dark iron, his whole body trembling lightly.
Wang Shuangfeng stepped forward, her voice graceful. “Grandpa Feng, where is the Old Ancestor?”
The middle-aged man gestured toward the main hall with a sigh. “He is in the back. Feng’er, it is good that you have returned; go see the Old Ancestor quickly!”
Wang Shuangfeng gave a slight nod, turned, and supported Wang Yuanchu. She whispered softly, “Father, let’s go in.”
Her beautiful face was composed, as if she felt no sorrow. Yet, Li Muzhan could sense the grief and pain suppressed deep within her heart.
Li Muzhan sighed inwardly; at such a young age to possess such transcendent resolve—she truly possessed the bearing of Wang Xiu’e.
Wang Yuanchu took a deep breath, nodding slowly, appearing suddenly aged by several years. Leaning on Wang Shuangfeng, he stepped into the hall.
Li Muzhan followed behind, sighing quietly. The death of Wang Yuanxin was a tremendous blow to Wang Yuanchu; their fraternal bond must have been exceptionally strong, otherwise, given Wang Yuanchu’s usual demeanor, he would never have lost control so completely.
He entered the hall behind them and saw a massive coffin placed centrally in the vast space. It was black, sleek, and gleamed brightly, while the air was heavy with the rich scent of sandalwood.
On the northern wall, a large character—‘’ (Lamentation)—was inscribed. All the drapery in the hall had been replaced with black fabric, lending the spacious hall a dim, somber hue.
Two rows of high-backed chairs flanked the coffin. Seated there were elders with white hair and frost on their brows, alongside middle-aged men radiating imposing vigor. Each face was set like stone, and not a word was spoken; the air felt thick and stagnant.
As Wang Yuanchu entered, dozens of gazes instantly fixed upon him, making the hall seem momentarily brighter.
Wang Yuanchu stared blankly at the coffin, his trembling intensifying, his face deathly pale. Yet, he moved slowly forward until he stood before it. Inside lay a youth clad in fine silk, his face like polished jade, with sword-like brows and star-like eyes, appearing as if asleep.
Li Muzhan paused at the doorway, sighing inwardly. He was an outsider at this moment, his status different, which disallowed him from approaching closer.
“You rascal, you’ve come back too late!” A broad-boned elder slowly rose. His face was full and round, his eyes piercing like stars; he must have been a great beauty in his youth.
“Father…” Wang Yuanchu ground out through clenched teeth, asking in a deep voice, “Who killed Fifth Brother?”
“Gongsun Qingyun,” the elder stated calmly.
“It was him!” Wang Yuanchu’s facial muscles contorted. He stamped his foot fiercely. “Gong—sun—Qing—yun—! Well done, Gongsun Qingyun! If I do not kill you, I, Wang Yuanchu, swear I am no man!”
The elder waved a hand dismissively. “Stop making bold declarations. With your current skills, if you could kill Gongsun Qingyun, a sow could climb a tree!”
Wang Yuanchu’s face flushed red. He took a deep breath. “Father, I will train desperately. One day, I will kill Gongsun Qingyun and avenge Fifth Brother!”
“You…” The elder shook his head without speaking.
“Family Head, it’s rare for Yuanchu to have such spirit; say less!” Another elder waved his hand and said in a deep voice, “Yuanchu, Gongsun Qingyun is not easy to kill; you must strive hard!”
“Second Uncle…” Wang Yuanchu clasped his hands and then proceeded to salute all the assembled elders in turn.
Li Muzhan stood at the rear, glancing over the crowd. Though everyone wore an expression of grief, perhaps only about ten people truly felt sorrow in their hearts.
Though large families have their advantages, when numbers swell, sentiments naturally dilute. There is gain and loss in everything; such is the way of the world. Li Muzhan maintained a detached perspective, observing the throng with profound contemplation.
“Yuanchu, was your trip smooth?” the Wang Family Head asked sternly.
Wang Yuanchu slowly nodded, gazing fixedly at Wang Yuanxin in the coffin, his eyes reddening as he fiercely held back tears. He turned and asked, “Father, are we just going to let this go?”
“Naturally, we will not let it go,” the Wang Family Head, Wang Tianhao, replied coldly, his face like cold iron.
Wang Yuanchu stated in a low voice, “An eye for an eye, blood for blood! …Father, we must avenge Fifth Brother; we must bathe the Gongsun family in blood!”
Wang Tianhao nodded. “Yes. If not for the Old Ancestor’s decree against rash action, we would have charged over already. …The Old Ancestor might be waiting for news from you. Go see the Old Ancestor.”
“Yes.” Wang Yuanchu suppressed his pain and agreed.
Wang Yuanchu and Wang Shuangfeng left the hall. Li Muzhan, still by the doorway, followed the pair; the other four guards had already dispersed to attend to their duties.
“Eldest Young Master, I shall retire for a while,” Li Muzhan said, clasping his hands in salute.
Wang Yuanchu finally snapped back to attention, noticing Li Muzhan. He nodded quickly. “Brother Li, my apologies for the display… Very well, you go rest.”
Li Muzhan nodded to Wang Shuangfeng and then turned, leaving to return to his own small courtyard.
He sighed inwardly. He had intended, upon arriving at the Wang family estate, to take his leave immediately and head toward Saint Snow Peak—more importantly, to visit his own family. He deeply missed his family after being away for over a year. He never expected that the Fifth Young Master of the Wang family would be murdered. Now, he could not ask to depart without inviting suspicion.
In his courtyard, he sat in meditation, contemplating the Nine Swords of the Vast Sea. The sparring sessions with Nangong Wuwang over the past ten days had yielded tremendous insight, deepening his comprehension of the technique.
After practicing the sword for a time, he sat down at the stone table in the flower garden. Two young women in white, Xiao Qin and Xiao Chun, stood by quietly, ready to serve. When Li Muzhan’s tea cup emptied, they stepped forward to refill it.
Li Muzhan’s gaze drifted into the distance as he pondered: Gongsun Qingyun killing the Wang family’s Fifth Young Master was like kicking a hornet’s nest. This time, the Wang family and the Gongsun family were set on an irreconcilable path.
Logically, the feuds between great families rarely escalated to such mortal combat; even when blows were struck, some measure of restraint was usually maintained, avoiding the killing of core members. Unless there was truly a blood feud running deep, such ruthlessness was uncommon.
This suggested the enmity between the Wang and Gongsun families ran much deeper than he had imagined—it was not merely a conflict over interests, but involved profound hatred.
A bloody storm was inevitable between the Wang and Gongsun families, resulting in countless deaths. As this escalated, their mutual hatred would deepen until they became mortal enemies, unable to coexist.
The power structure among the great families of the realm would then shift, leading to another wave of upheaval, potentially more catastrophic than the feud between the two houses, plunging the world into chaos.
Li Muzhan frowned.
The Wang family was powerful and had some connections with the Vast Sea Sword Sect, while the Gongsun lineage had the backing of Saint Snow Peak. A conflict between the two houses would inevitably draw in the two sects. A children’s quarrel often dragged the adults in.
Since he, as a disciple of the Vast Sea Sword Sect, was also obligated to compete against Saint Snow Peak on behalf of the Wang family, the Sect would become even more deeply entangled, making it impossible for him to remain neutral.
If this happened, neither sect could escape the vortex of conflict. If mishandled, the fight between the two families could become the fuse igniting a war between the two sects—a truly perilous situation.
Li Muzhan’s mind was sharp, his perspective transcendent. He quickly deduced these possibilities, his brow furrowing tighter and tighter. While the Wang family had shown him kindness by imparting martial arts, his upcoming competition was sufficient repayment. Moreover, his recent excursion with the Nangong family could also be considered balanced against any favors.
He did not deeply care about the Wang family's fate, finding it merely regrettable. However, if the conflict threatened Canghai Mountain, he could not tolerate it, and he resolved to nip the danger in the bud.
After a moment’s thought, he took a deep breath, pulled his focus back, and smiled. “Xiao Qin, Xiao Chun, when did Fifth Young Master pass?”
The girl with dimples in her cheeks kept her head bowed and sighed. “Just yesterday.”
“Alas… yesterday!” Li Muzhan shook his head and sighed. What a pity; if he had returned just one day sooner, perhaps he could have saved him using the Crane-Guiding Oil Infusion Technique.
As they spoke, footsteps sounded. The two young women in white quickly bowed their heads in a graceful salute. “Old Ancestor.”
“Enough, you both may leave,” Wang Xiu’e said coldly, waving a hand. She wore a black robe, and Wang Shuangfeng, now also dressed in black, stood beside her.
Li Muzhan stood up and clasped his hands. “Senior, my condolences. The dead cannot be brought back to life.”
Wang Xiu’e shook her head. Although her face remained smooth, a hint of age and decline had settled around her brow. She gestured toward a seat. “Sit.”
Li Muzhan sat down. Wang Xiu’e sat opposite him, with Wang Shuangfeng standing behind her.
She quickly poured a cup of tea for Wang Xiu’e and offered it with both hands. Wang Xiu’e took it, took a small sip, and slowly set it down, her gaze fixed on Li Muzhan’s face.
Wang Xiu’e spoke, “Zhanran, we owe you greatly for what happened this time. Otherwise, both Yuanchu and Feng’er might not have escaped Gongsun family’s deadly scheme.”
Li Muzhan replied, “Senior, there is no need for such ceremony; I did very little.”
Wang Xiu’e suddenly let out a cold laugh. “Gongsun Qingyun, ha! What a Gongsun Qingyun!”
A sinister, chilling aura enveloped her. Li Muzhan’s power of Intuition of the Heart perceived a palpable killing intent directed at this Gongsun Qingyun, whom she clearly wished to see cut into a thousand pieces.
“Senior, are you going to take action personally?” Li Muzhan asked.
Wang Xiu’e let out a long breath, her expression softening slightly as the cold energy slowly dissipated. She shook her head. “I cannot act myself.”
Li Muzhan frowned slightly.
Wang Xiu’e shook her head again, sighing deeply. “I wish I could personally slaughter him! …But the Gongsun family has an ancient monster too. If I make a move, he will certainly respond!”
Li Muzhan understood instantly and nodded.
“Zhanran, I…” Wang Xiu’e looked at him intently.