Huding Palace
"Meng Fei, you're already grown up now. I know you understand what must be done," Wen Hangzhuan said as they knelt before Meng Jiangnan's ashes.
Meng Fei let a tear fall. "Uncle Wen, I… I still don't know how to move on."
"We will avenge your father," Hangzhuan assured her. "And we will find out who took his life that night."
"Why? Why him?! What did he ever do to deserve this?!" Meng Fei cried, collapsing to the ground, sobbing.
"Young Leader Meng," Wen Yin said softly, "we will discover the truth and bring justice to your father. Trust in fate."
Meng Fei turned her tear-filled eyes toward him. Then, with a leap of faith, her body shimmered into light—transforming into a butterfly—and flew out of the funeral hall.
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Back at Zhongyin Palace, the Wen Clan returned in silence. Wen Hangzhuan and Wen Yin with He Xicheng gathered in the main hall, trying to piece together what had happened.
"After examining the wound, it clearly looks like he was killed with a dagger," Hangzhuan said, deep in thought.
"But Diē, no one at the palace that night was armed with daggers. Even in the Golden Palace, everyone uses swords," Wen Yin pointed out.
"Exactly, we don't use daggers. But I know someone skilled enough to wield daggers with such precision like that."
Wen Yin blinked. "Who?"
Hangzhuan hesitated before turning to his son. "The Qi Clan."
In the corner of the room, He Xicheng clenched his sword, swallowing hard.
Wen Yin's eyes widened in disbelief. "But Huding was attacked the night before. There's no way one of the Qi Clan's cultivators remained hidden after the ambush and then killed Clan Leader Meng Jiangnan afterward. Not with two clans guarding the palace so tightly."
"No one stayed behind, after the attack Meng Clan made sure that no one was still alive in the Qi Clan," Hangzhuan said quietly. "Which means it happened from within."
"You mean—there's an impostor among us?" Wen Yin asked, voice shaking.
"Maybe. It could be within our clan… or the Meng Clan."
"Or…" He Xicheng finally spoke. "There might not be an impostor at all."
Hangzhuan narrowed his eyes. "Please elaborate."
He Xicheng took a breath. "The attack happened at night. The fog was too thick that time. Someone could've slipped in and escaped unnoticed. Perhaps one of them escaped, and they came back after for the attack."
"Diē, he has a point," Wen Yin said. "It was foggy that night, and if they tried to steal the map, it makes sense it was someone from the Qi Clan,. Still, I don't believe any of us are traitors."
Just then, the doors burst open. Two guards rushed in.
"Clan Leader Wen, the two princes have arrived," one announced with a bow.
Two young men entered, one with a sword at his side and the other holding a fan. Their robes—one black, one white—fluttered as they stepped forward.
Wen Yin quickly knelt. "Prince Xuyang. Prince Xuyin."
"Get up, Wen Yin. No need to bow so deeply," Zheng Xuyang said with a warm smile.
"Prince Xuyang, Prince Xuyin. Welcome," Hangzhuan greeted, bowing. "To what do we owe the honor?"
"My father sends a letter," Xuyang replied, handing it over.
He Xicheng stepped forward, taking the letter. He stared at it for a bit, then he delivered it to Hangzhuan with a respectful nod.
Hangzhuan slowly opened it, reading it silently with his mind.
"Diē, what does it say?" Wen Yin asked.
"We don't know either," Xuyang interjected, fanning himself. "Father told us not to open it. It must be for the three Leaders only."
Hangzhuan set the letter down, face down.
"Wen Ling," he called.
From the back, an aide entered. "Yes, Clan Leader?"
"I need a moment alone with my assistant." Hangzhuan announced to the others.
"Of course. Everyone, please leave the room immediately," Prince Xuyin ordered.
The others complied. He Xicheng was the last to leave, closing the door behind him.
"Wen Ling, deliver this letter to Zhao Lianyu. Then ask him to pass it to Meng Fei."
"Yes, Clan Leader," Wen Ling bowed and departed.
Outside, Xuyang turned to Wen Yin. "That man—who is he? I haven't seen him here before."
"Oh, he's… an outsider. A beggar," Wen Yin admitted. "I found him near Zhongyin's entrance long ago. He looked miserable, so I took him in and made him my right hand assistant."
Xuyang chuckled behind his fan. "You always had a soft spot, didn't you?"
"Outsider?" Xuyin's expression turned stern. "Didn't Father strictly forbid letting outsiders in without thorough checking?"
"Dàgē," Xuyang said, smiling. "He seems decent. Wen Yin trusts him so he must be a kind person."
"Prince Xuyin," Wen Yin spoke up. "His name is He Xicheng. His family died in a tragic accident very long ago. He wandered here by chance, so I helped him."
"And you believed that? Did you even check his background deeply?" Xuyin demanded.
Wen Yin shook his head, ashamed.
"Something bad might not have happened yet, but don't be careless about it," Xuyin warned coldly. "Let's go."
Xuyang sighed. "Don't mind him, Wen Yin. He's always like that. Still… based on what I've seen so far, I think you might be right." He gave a reassuring smile, patting Wen Yin on the shoulder before leaving.
From a distance, He Xicheng quietly watched them, eyes fixed on Wen Yin.
Xiping
Guanlin awoke to the sound of birds and sunlight on his face. Song Yuanli was curled up beside him on the floor.
"Song Yuanli? Why are you on the floor?"
She yawned and stretched. "I must've fallen asleep treating your wounds. How are they?"
Guanlin touched his cheek—pain still pulsed. "Ow…"
"Don't touch it for now. Let it heal," Yuanli said gently.
"The whole right side of my body is a mess. My clothes are shredded. That bastard grabbed me by the foot and scraped me across the ground like a mop," Guanlin growled.
Suddenly, the door burst open. Zhong Jinxiao stepped in, holding folded clothes neatly in his hands.
"Here. Wear this," he said, handing them toward Guanlin.
"Jinxiao? Why are you back so sudden?" Guanlin asked, avoiding his gaze.
"Just put it on. Too many questions." Jinxiao rolled his eyes, avoiding gaze.
"But I only asked one!"
Jinxiao dropped the clothes with a huff. "Wear it or not. It's your choice." He turned and walked out.
"What's wrong with him?" Guanlin asked Yuanli.
Outside, Baiying approached Jinxiao curiously.
"Childe Zhong, may I ask—where are you four headed?"
"That's none of your business," Jinxiao snapped.
Baiying chuckled. "I let you stay in my place and you speak like that? It's fine. I meet people like you often."
"Thanks for your hospitality. Want silver? Gold?" Jinxiao said, handing him two pouches.
Baiying glanced at them and chuckled, unimpressed. "You think I helped you for money?"
"Looks like it," Jinxiao replied flatly.
"Look, I'm trying to be civil. But why the attitude? Did I offend you without even me realizing it?" Baiying asked, stepping closer.
"Meeting you doesn't make me want to know you better," Jinxiao muttered, matching his glare.
"Childe Zhong, please don't fight," Wen Lu pleaded, pulling them apart.
"What am I even fighting for? Childe Zhong, if you're angry—tell me why. We can settle it."
Jinxiao growled and stormed off.
"Brother Feng, he's just… like that, don't think about it too much." Wen Lu said apologetically.
"Yeah. I noticed," Baiying muttered.
"Thank you for letting us stay here. We'll be leaving now," Wen Lu said before heading to the guest room.
He opened the door. "Bro Lin, Song Yuanli—we're leaving."
"Wait, where even are we?" Guanlin asked groggily.
"The man who saved us last night let us stay in his home. He said we should leave in the morning," Yuanli explained.
Guanlin nodded slowly. "Makes sense. We're running out of time anyway. Next stop—the desert. We need the slain dragon's beard next."
He tried to stand, wincing. Wen Lu hurried to help.
"Can you walk?"
"My legs are numb, but I'll manage." He said as he shaked his right leg off.
Suddenly, Jinxiao burst in and snatched Guanlin away from Wen Lu, turning to leave the room.
"Huh? Did he just take Guanlin from me?" Wen Lu asked, stunned.
Yuanli stood beside him, smirking. "I think your Childe has something for Guanlin… a lot."
"Jinxiao likes Lai Guanlin?!" Wen Lu gasped.
Yuanli rolled her eyes faintly and walked out of the room.
"Hey, wait for me!" Wen Lu called, chasing after her.
"Put me down, I can walk!" Guanlin protested.
Without a second thought, Zhong Jinxiao let go of him.
"Ow! You've got some nerve," Guanlin muttered, rubbing his back.
He quickly stood up when he noticed Baiying approaching from the distance. He walked over calmly and stood in front of him.
"Mister, thank you for letting us stay in your home. You're truly a kind person," Guanlin said, bowing politely.
Jinxiao gave a small chuckle from behind.
"No worries," Baiying replied with a gentle smile.
He reached out to gently touch Guanlin's cheek. "Are your wounds better now?"
"Hands off! They're still healing," Jinxiao snapped.
Baiying immediately withdrew his hand.
"Thank you again," Guanlin said, bowing once more. "We're truly grateful."
He gave Baiying a small wave before turning to leave.
---
As they walked through the streets of Xiping, an uneasiness lingered in the air, as if something heavier waited just beyond the horizon.
"Yuanli, even if it's daytime, the passion fruit can still be picked, right?" Guanlin asked.
"Yes," Yuanli nodded. "Or, if you want, we could go for the dragon's beard first and return later."
Guanlin shook his head. "No... if we wait, they might all be gone. We can't risk it."
"Oh—here, your sword, I almost forgot about it." Yuanli said, handing the weapon over.
"Yuanli, I didn't really know you could use a sword after watching you last night." Guanlin blinked in surprise.
"My father taught me some basics. For self-defense," Yuanli replied.
Eventually, the group arrived at the foot of a steep cliff.
"Why do all these cures have to be hidden in such high places?" Wen Lu groaned.
After half an hour of climbing, they reached the top, panting from walking.
"Huh?" Guanlin froze.
To their shock, Feng Baiying was already there, standing still in front of the tree.
"Brother Feng? W-What are you doing here?" Wen Lu asked, confused.
Jinxiao stepped forward, his hand instinctively going to his sword. "Were you following us?"
"Whoa—easy," Baiying raised his hands. "I'm here guarding the tree. What are you doing here?"
Guanlin stepped between them, gently pushing Jinxiao's blade aside.
"We came for the passion fruit," he explained.
Baiying let out a small laugh. "The passion fruit is a good remedy indeed... but I'm afraid you're a little too late."
He stepped aside, revealing the tree perched near the cliff's edge. It stood mostly bare—only a few shriveled leaves remained, and not a single fruit in sight.
"No..." Guanlin sank to his knees. "It can't be..."
"What's wrong?" Baiying asked, frowning.
"Brother Feng," Wen Lu said urgently, "his mother was poisoned by dark magic. He needs the fruit now—there's no time left. Is there any other way?"
Baiying's expression stiffened. "Dark magic?"
He hesitated before replying. "The nearest passion fruit tree aside from this one is in Beiling. It's nearly a thousand kilometers from here."
A tear slid down Guanlin's cheek.
"When was the last fruit taken?" Jinxiao asked hurriedly.
"Three days ago," Baiying replied. "Why? Are you planning to steal it?"
"No. Taking half of it would be enough," Jinxiao said calmly. "Do you remember the person who took it?"
"She was a tall woman. I think she's a local here."
"Then help us find her. Please," Jinxiao said firmly.
Baiying nodded. "Alright. In the meantime, you can all stay at my place again—"
"No," Jinxiao interrupted. "They'll continue on. You and I will find the woman together. He can't afford to waste any more time."
Baiying glanced at Guanlin, whose hands were clenched with frustration and despair. "Okay, I'll help."
"Wen Lu, go with them. Accompany them to the desert for the next cure," Jinxiao instructed.
Wen Lu nodded. "Guanlin, Yuanli. Let's move for the last cure. Childe Zhong will take care of the passion fruit."