[A Day Before, Chen Yuan and Chen Zhen's Meeting]
The discussion hall was quiet, the lamps burning low.
Chen Yuan stood near the long table, his hands resting against its edge. He did not sit. Elder Chen Zhen remained opposite him, arms folded, his expression already sour, as though he had been summoned for an annoyance rather than a reckoning.
Chen Yuan spoke first.
"The interruption in the pill supply," he said evenly. "Was it your doing?"
Chen Zhen let out a short huff. "You already know the answer."
Chen Yuan nodded once, as though confirming something he had long accepted.
"I sent the letter," Chen Zhen continued, irritation creeping into his voice. "I told the shopkeepers to halt operations. And don't look at me like that, if you didn't know it was me, you wouldn't be standing here now."
He waved a hand sharply. "Don't beat around the bush. You've never done that before. Get to the point."
Chen Yuan lifted his gaze to him.
"Elder Zhen," he said, "you've said more than once that you don't want me as patriarch of the Chen family."
Chen Zhen's brows drew together. "Of course I've said that. And?"
Chen Yuan inhaled slowly.
"Then I'll step down."
The words settled into the hall.
For a breath, Chen Zhen did not react at all. Then his eyes widened.
"You—" His voice rose, sharp with disbelief. "You just—what did you say?"
"I'll relinquish the position," Chen Yuan repeated, calm and clear. "The pill supply will return to how it was. Your objections will end. And my decision regarding the mine will stand."
Chen Zhen stared at him as if the man before him had spoken nonsense.
"You're willing to throw away the patriarch's seat," he said slowly, "for this?"
"For that," Chen Yuan corrected, nodding toward the direction of the town beyond the hall. "For Qingshi."
Chen Zhen slammed his hand against the table. "Are you out of your mind?" he snapped. "Do you know how many families would kill for that position? How many would scheme, bleed, crawl for it?"
He stepped forward. "And you're ready to give it up…for a handful of villagers?"
Chen Yuan met his glare without flinching.
"When I was young," he said, "our family barely kept a roof over our heads."
Chen Zhen paused.
"There were winters," Chen Yuan continued, "when my mother would pretend she wasn't hungry so I could eat. There were days when I worked at shops just to earn scraps."
His voice did not shake, but something behind it did.
"Qingshi fed me," he said. "Not once. Not twice. Again and again. A bowl here. A job there. A blind eye when I couldn't pay on time."
Chen Zhen scoffed. "Sentiment."
Chen Yuan smiled faintly. "Perhaps. But it's the reason I'm standing here."
He straightened. "Now there's a chance to give something back. A real chance. If I can make life easier for them, even a little why wouldn't I?"
Chen Zhen's expression hardened. "Because they'll betray you," he said flatly. "Mark my words. The moment there's profit to be taken, loyalty will vanish."
Chen Yuan laughed.
It wasn't loud, but it was real. His eyes shone faintly, damp at the corners.
"I know," he said. "I know there's a chance they'll turn on me."
He looked at Chen Zhen openly. "But there's also a chance they won't. A chance that if I believe in them, some of them will believe in me."
He spread his hands slightly. "If I have the ability to give them that chance, I will."
Chen Zhen shook his head, anger burning beneath his frustration. "There isn't only good in people, Chen Yuan."
Chen Yuan nodded, his smile widening instead of fading. "I know."
He met the elder's eyes. "But I choose to believe in it anyway. I've treated them well. Some will call me foolish for expecting the same in return."
His smile softened. "But that's fine. This is who I am."
For a long moment, Chen Zhen said nothing.
Then he laughed, short, sharp, without humor.
"Good," he said. "Very good."
He turned away abruptly. "You're right about one thing. You were never fit to be patriarch."
He stopped at the doorway and looked back once. "From next week onward, my son Chen Rui will take the position."
Then he stormed out, robes snapping behind him, leaving the hall echoing with the weight of what had just been decided.
***
[Back to Present]
"As I said before," he continued, gripping his weapon, "I never liked you as the patriarch of the Chen family."
He took one step forward, placing himself half a pace ahead of Chen Yuan.
"But—" Chen Zhen added, his voice lower, rougher, "I respect you as a person."
Chen Yuan looked at him. For a brief instant, something conflicted crossed his face—surprise, bitterness, understanding—all of it pressed tight behind his eyes.
There was no time to answer.
A killing intent slammed down on them like a sudden storm.
Wei Qiu moved.
The ground cracked beneath his feet as he launched forward, blade flashing in a straight, brutal line toward Chen Yuan's throat. Another youth followed close behind, circling wide, intent on cutting off retreat.
Chen Yuan reacted instantly.
His sword came up with a sharp cry of steel, deflecting Wei Qiu's strike just enough that it screamed past his neck instead of through it. The impact jolted his arm to the shoulder. Before the second blade could descend, Chen Yuan twisted his wrist and slashed sideways, forcing the flanking youth to leap back.
"Together?" Wei Qiu laughed. "Good."
Power surged through his body. His blade glowed faintly red as blood energy wrapped around the steel, the air warping with pressure as he struck again—faster, heavier.
Chen Yuan met him head-on.
Their swords collided, sparks bursting outward as the courtyard stones split beneath their feet. Chen Yuan slid back half a step, boots carving grooves into the ground. Pain flared through his arm, but he pushed forward, driving his blade in a tight arc aimed at Wei Qiu's ribs.
Wei Qiu blocked casually, wrist flicking.
The second youth struck from behind.
Chen Yuan felt it an instant before it landed. He twisted, the blade grazing his back instead of sinking deep, hot pain tearing through muscle as blood soaked his robe. He grunted but did not fall, turning the momentum into a counterstrike that forced the youth back with a shallow cut across the chest.
Across the courtyard, Chen Zhen was already moving.
A youth rushed him, spear humming with blood energy. Chen Zhen slammed the butt of his weapon into the ground, power exploding outward in a sharp pulse. The spear was knocked aside mid-thrust, its wielder staggering.
"What—?" the youth gasped.
Chen Zhen stepped in and struck.
His blade did not flash wildly. It moved with brutal precision, each swing compact and heavy. Blood energy coated the edge as he cut low, then high, forcing the youth into a frantic retreat.
"You're—second realm?" the youth snarled, eyes wide.
Chen Zhen did not answer.
He advanced again, relentless, forcing the youth back step by step, sparks and blood scattering as steel met steel.
Around them, the Chen family was being cut down.
Another guard fell screaming as a blade split his shoulder. An elder was driven to the ground, coughing blood as his chest was pierced. Cries echoed, then cut off abruptly, one by one.
"Patriarch!" someone shouted desperately. "We're losing them!"
Chen Yuan felt it too.
The pressure. The imbalance. The way the courtyard was shrinking around them.
An elder who had fled earlier burst back through the inner passage, face pale, breath ragged.
"Patriarch!" he screamed. "We can't get out—there's something outside! An invisible wall—it won't let anyone through!"
Chen Yuan's heart sank.
He parried Wei Qiu's blade again, barely holding the line, and shouted back, "A formation?"
His eyes snapped toward Hei Yan for the first time.
"So you never intended to let us live," Chen Yuan said, his voice cold.
Wei Qiu laughed, wild and sharp. "Live?" He grinned, eyes shining. "Do you really think anyone who knows about a spirit stone mine walks away breathing?"
The words had barely left his mouth when something moved.
Too fast.
A dagger streaked through the air like a line of black light.
Chen Zhen turned just in time to see it strike.
The blade punched into his side with terrifying force. His body was thrown backward, feet leaving the ground as he crashed into the stone, skidding several meters before coming to a stop.
"Uncle Zhen!" Chen Yuan shouted.
Chen Zhen coughed violently, blood spilling from his mouth as he forced himself onto one elbow. His vision blurred, but he lifted his head.
Hei Yan stood a short distance away, having dismounted at last.
His hand was still extended from the throw.
"Enough playing," Hei Yan said calmly, his voice carrying effortlessly through the chaos. His eyes moved past the bodies, past the blood, toward the depths of the manor. "I'm tired of waiting."
A thin smile curved his lips.
"I want to see that mine."