Yun Ranyang's voice cut through the low murmur of the chamber, sharp and direct. "Alright. Reports."
Weaver, the Head of Trade, leaned forward before anyone else could speak, his heavy silver chains clinking softly against the table. The lamplight caught the intricate skull tattoos on his hands. "The Golden Dawn Sect made their move," he began, his voice a low rumble. "They've outright seized the Fang Clan's primary spirit-jade mine in the Blackwood Forest, a blatant act of aggression. The Fangs won't take this lying down; it'll be a full-blown war within the season. And now, having kicked the hornet's nest, the Golden Dawn's Sect Master comes to us looking for support. He's offering to triple their tribute if we grant his war parties and merchants protected passage. He started a war, and now he wants us to sell him the road to win it."
Silk Hand, the Diplomat Head, offered a faint, knowing smile. "This development isn't surprising. The Fang Clan elders have been attempting to secure an audience for the better part of a year now." Her voice was smooth but held a dismissive edge. "We've refused them each time, of course. Their past indiscretions make them unreliable partners."
A dry, raspy voice cut across the silence. Burner, the Alchemist, tapped a single, stained finger on the table. "Then let them fight," he said simply. "Let Golden Dawn exhaust their resources breaking the Fang Clan. Let them bleed each other dry." He looked around the room, his expression purely practical. "Why buy a battlefield when you can inherit one?"
A moment of silence hung in the air after Burner's cold calculation, broken only when Yun Ranyang turned his gaze to the scarred monument of a man standing near the entrance. The Warden straightened his already rigid posture. "My report is internal," he said, his voice like grinding stones. "An unusual development with the manor guard. They have been training without pause for the last five hours. My captains ordered them to stand down. The men refused." He let that breach of discipline hang in the air before providing the bizarre context. "Their explanation was unorthodox. According to my captains, they were sobbing. Stated they could not 'disappoint the Young Master anymore.'" A corner of The Warden's mouth twitched. "Now the officers are requesting more flags with the Young Master's crest. For morale, they say."
A small, sweet melody drifted from the balcony where Lady Xue hummed in delight. At the table, a rare, faint smile touched Yun Ranyang's lips. The flow of the meeting resumed until Burner broke the rhythm again, his voice an impatient grumble. "This is all fine, but my work is being impacted. We have a critical shortage of spirit herb materials. I can't maintain production on enhancement pills for the battalions, let alone my other projects," he added with a pointed look, "which do not appreciate delays or daylight."
After a moment, Silk Hand shifted the topic again. "We have another matter. A peculiar incident from the Imperial Capital." She paused. "One of the junior alchemists in the Imperial Archives went mad. He began shouting a single phrase repeatedly before he was subdued." She looked directly at Yun Ranyang. "He screamed, 'The prophecy! The prophecy returned a 404! Not found!' He screamed it thrice before the resulting Qi deviation caused three cauldrons to explode."
Yun Ranyang leaned back, rubbing the bridge of his nose as a deep weariness settled into his voice. "Another one? This is the second this year, is it not?"
It was Lin Ke who answered, his voice as steady and impassive as ever. "The Patriarch is correct," he confirmed. "This incident mirrors the case of the silk merchant in the Azure Province three months ago. That man declared himself a 'divine scribe' and sent enchanted scrolls to all major clan houses and Imperial ministers." He paused. "When opened, the scrolls contained nothing but the word 'ER-ROR,' repeated thousands of times."
The unsettling figure they called Old Ghost paused in his meticulous polishing of a small, intricate talisman. He didn't look up as he spoke, his voice dry as ancient parchment.
"It's a strange madness, this 'Er-ror,'" he mused. "In my day, insanity had flair. People screamed about dragons in their soup or demons demanding better wine. At least that showed imagination."
Across the table, Burner snorted, waving a soot-stained hand.
"It's not new," he rasped. "Back then, I blamed it on moldy mushrooms and bad wine. Now?" He gestured vaguely toward the air. "Still moldy mushrooms. Just a different brand of nonsense."
Yun Ranyang turned slightly, his gaze drifting toward the balcony where his wife sat. The topic shifted back to the earlier report from The Warden.
"There was a stir in the western pavilion earlier this evening," he stated, more to himself than anyone.
Lin Ke shifted slightly behind him, hands tucked behind his back. "That may be what it looked like," he said calmly. "But I believe the true purpose was assessment. A strategic evaluation of the staff: loyalty, competence, response to pressure. It was structured like a public test."
Lin Xuan, standing beside him, added with her usual clarity, "And preparation. He spoke of entering the chessboard, not watching from the edge. It wasn't just to inspire them. He's starting to move."
As if on cue, a quiet hum drifted from the balcony. Lady Xue was still sipping her tea, the melody on her lips now noticeably more cheerful. Yun Ranyang's smile softened as he observed the faint glow in his wife's expression.
"Xue," he said gently, "you seem quite happy today."
Lady Xue didn't answer immediately. She sipped her tea, the melody on her lips quieting for a breath. When she spoke, her voice held none of her usual frost, only warmth.
"Of course I'm happy," she said, eyes gleaming. "Yi'er is finally beginning to see the bigger picture. I was starting to worry."
Ranyang chuckled under his breath, the sound low and brief. "Yes. It was about time."
Then, Xue turned slightly, eyes gleaming with sudden, almost girlish excitement. "Do you think it's time to start selecting his brides now?"
Ranyang blinked.
"I've kept a list," she continued, barely containing her glee. "So many promising candidates. How many do you think we should take at once? Three? Five? Seven, if we're being practical?"
Ranyang set down his cup with a soft clink, gaze sweeping over the emptying courtyard beyond. With a gentle wave of his hand and a voice tinged with tired warmth, he said, "That's enough for tonight. You're all dismissed."
One by one, the retainers bowed and slipped away, their shadows swallowed by the quiet halls of Yun Manor.
Above them, the moon watched. And below, the clouds whispered.