The courtyard remained silent after Elder Lianhua's final words.
For several breaths, nothing stirred.
Then the qi shifted. Not violently—no surge, no pressure wave—but with the quiet certainty of a decision being made.
"I will verify the truth of this matter myself."
Her voice was calm, but the words carried **finality**.
"Not through rumor. Not through secondhand divination."
A pause.
"Through **direct confirmation**."
Li Qiye's chest tightened, but he did not raise his head.
"If such a creature truly exists as you claim," Elder Lianhua continued, "then it is already outside the scope of ordinary demon beast classifications."
The air in the courtyard deepened subtly, as though something vast had stirred beneath still waters.
"A third-layer existence that suppresses divine sense, manipulates multiple elements, and demonstrates tactical restraint…" she said slowly. "That is not coincidence. Nor is it mutation."
Her voice cooled.
"It is **design**."
Li Qiye felt a faint pressure brush past him—not hostile, but probing, as if something ancient had glanced his way, then looked far beyond.
Her tone sharpened by a single degree.
"If your account is true, careless words could cost lives."
Li Qiye bowed deeply. "This junior understands."
Silence followed.
Then, almost as an afterthought, she spoke again.
"That demonic fox you mentioned," she said, "you said it directed the battle."
"Yes," Li Qiye replied without hesitation.
"…Interesting," she murmured.
The qi stilled. The pressure receded.
And just like that, the presence that had filled the courtyard withdrew—leaving only quiet stone, drifting mist, and the unmistakable sense that something long dormant had begun to turn its gaze toward the world once more.
Li Qiye remained bowed several breaths longer than necessary. Only when he felt the courtyard truly return to stillness did he straighten.
From the mist beneath the ancient spirit tree, a figure slowly emerged.
She wore simple robes of pale jade, unadorned by jewels or insignia. Her hair, streaked faintly with silver, was bound loosely behind her back. Her face bore no signs of age, yet her eyes carried a depth forged by centuries endured, not merely lived.
**Elder Lianhua.**
She stood beneath the spirit tree as though she had always been there.
Li Qiye's breath caught. He immediately dropped to one knee, bowing deeply.
"This junior greets ancestor Lianhua."
She regarded him silently for a moment, her gaze calm but penetrating—less a look *at* him than a look *through* him.
At last, she spoke—not through voice transmission, but aloud.
"If the Li clan has truly suffered such a catastrophe," she said, her voice soft but firm, "and has come seeking my aid…"
Her gaze lifted slightly, as though seeing far beyond the courtyard—beyond the sect, beyond the peak.
"…then I cannot simply stand by."
She looked back to Li Qiye.
"Hundreds of years have passed since I left White Hollow City," Elder Lianhua continued. "The world has changed. Bloodlines have thinned. Names have faded."
Her expression remained composed, but beneath the calm, something colder stirred.
"Yet the Li blood still flows."
She took a single step forward. The air shifted—not with pressure, but with **authority**.
"I may now be an elder of this sect," she said, "but before that… I was a daughter of the Li clan."
Li Qiye felt his chest tighten.
"If what you have said is true," she continued, "then this is not merely a sect matter."
Her eyes hardened.
"It is a **clan calamity**."
She turned slightly, robes whispering against the stone.
"I will personally confirm the truth," she said. "And if White Hollow City has indeed been tested by something that should not exist…"
Her gaze sharpened, chilling in its resolve.
"Then the Li clan will not face it alone."
Silence followed—heavy, absolute.
Then Elder Lianhua spoke once more:
"Rise, Li Qiye. You have done your duty."
Li Qiye remained kneeling, head lowered, but his mind raced.
*She's going herself?* disbelief prickled along his spine.
He had expected caution, protocol, prudence. At most, a few disciples would be dispatched—carefully selected, strong enough to verify his report without risking the elder herself. That had seemed reasonable. That had seemed… natural.
Yet Elder Lianhua's calm words and measured steps told a different story. She **was coming personally**.
A twinge of unease crept in. Li Qiye's mind replayed the account he had given—the slight exaggerations, the woven uncertainties, the plausible assumptions to make the story coherent. *Little lies,* he had told himself. Nothing that would make an elder of her stature act rashly.
And yet… she had decided to move herself.
*She trusts my words enough to take that risk…*
Or perhaps it was not trust at all. Perhaps she understood, with the insight of centuries, that the gravity of the situation demanded a direct presence.
Li Qiye's chest tightened. The weight of responsibility—the truth and the lies—pressed down. If he had misjudged even slightly, he might have put the elder in danger. If the creature truly was as powerful as he described…
*Then I have done more than just report a disaster,* he realized. *I've drawn the gaze of someone capable of challenging it.*
The thought should have reassured him. Instead, it brought a new kind of tension.
The elder's decision confirmed one thing beyond doubt: whatever had attacked White Hollow City, whatever had killed the Li clan's elders, was no ordinary demon beast. And whatever it was… it had already begun to move the world around it.
Li Qiye exhaled slowly, steadying himself, and bowed once more.
"This junior will not fail to support the ancestor," he whispered to himself.
The courtyard remained still, but the weight of what was to come—her presence, her investigation—settled over him like a storm yet to break.
Instinctively, he raised the **jade token**, holding it against his chest.
Then, almost of its own accord, the token slipped from his fingers. It flew smoothly through the air, spinning gently, until it came to rest on a pale, outstretched hand.
Elder Lianhua's arm had lifted—without effort, without haste—and the jade token landed on her palm as though it were weightless.
Li Qiye froze, staring. He could feel the qi around her shifting, **assessing, confirming, alive**.
She tilted her wrist slightly, and the token hovered for a heartbeat. Then she poured a faint stream of refined **Qi** into it.
A sharp, clean **crack** rang through the courtyard.
The jade token **shattered**, breaking into countless fragments that glittered briefly in the mist before settling quietly on the stone tiles.
Li Qiye's jaw tightened.
"I… I gave this to your clan hundreds of years ago," Elder Lianhua said calmly, her voice steady and measured. "To the head of the Li family. It was a pledge—a sign that if your clan should ever need aid, you would be able to seek it through me."
The shards of jade glimmered faintly, each fragment still carrying a trace of her Qi.
Li Qiye's mind raced, the pieces clicking together. *So… that is why she is coming herself.*
If the token had always been a guarantee, a personal seal of the Li bloodline… then this was no mere precaution. This was a **direct summons**.
Her eyes, calm and composed, met him—not fully, but just enough.
"This junior… has no right to ask lightly," he whispered to himself, bowing deeper.
The courtyard remained still, but Li Qiye could feel the **weight of the elder's decision** pressing down: she would descend herself.
And everything about that—the speed, the resolve, the legacy of the jade—made it clear: whatever had struck White Hollow City, whatever had killed the elders, was a matter worthy of an elder's **full attention**.