Li Qiye had barely collected himself when Elder Lianhua's voice broke the silence.
"Before we depart," she said softly, yet every word carried authority, "you should meet the one who came seeking you."
Li Qiye's eyes widened, and instinctively he turned.
She was suddenly **beside him**. One moment, she had been standing at the far end of the courtyard; the next, she was there, her presence quiet but undeniable.
He blinked.
And then she was gone.
The air where she had stood rippled like a disturbed pond.
Li Qiye barely had time to think—he hadn't moved—but in the next instant, she **reappeared below the peak**.
A lone disciple knelt there, oblivious to the sudden arrival.
The disciple froze. His eyes widened as the pair appeared before him without sound or warning.
Elder Lianhua's calm presence pressed down like a mountain. Li Qiye, still catching his breath, barely registered the disciple's reaction.
The disciple dropped to one knee immediately, forehead nearly touching the stone.
"How… Elder Lianhua—" he began, voice trembling.
Then, swallowing his shock, he bowed again, deeper this time.
"This disciple pays his respects to **the Ancestor**."
Li Qiye's chest tightened. He understood instinctively: the title was not ceremonial. It was recognition of power, bloodline, and legacy.
Elder Lianhua said nothing, only inclined her head slightly in acknowledgment. Her gaze swept over Li Qiye—not reproachful, but measured, appraising—and then she disappeared just as suddenly as she had appeared.
The disciple remained kneeling, eyes wide with awe, the weight of centuries pressing down upon him, yet unable to speak further.
Li Qiye could only stand, jaw tight, fully realizing why she had moved herself, why the jade token had been shattered, and why even the peak seemed to bend subtly before her will.
She was no longer merely an elder.
She was **the Li blood manifest**—a living legacy of the clan, now the embodiment of its authority and the response to a calamity that had shattered White Hollow City.
Li Qiye paused mid-step as a faint ripple of movement caught his attention.
Before he could gather his thoughts, another figure knelt lightly below the peak.
Li Qiye's chest tightened. That face… *he knew that face.*
His robes marked him clearly as a **sect disciple**, but something in the posture, in the aura, stirred a memory in Li Qiye.
"Big… brother?" Li Qiye's voice escaped before he could stop it.
The disciple froze, eyes widening slightly at the recognition, then lifted his head. Recognition flickered across his eyes as he met Li Qiye's gaze. For a heartbeat, neither moved—both silent, the air between them taut with shock and awe.
It was him. **Li Tianmu**, the first son of the head of the Li clan. Though older in birth, cultivation had preserved his appearance—he looked far younger than Li Qiye remembered. Sharp features, steady posture, a calm authority radiating naturally from him.
"I… who calls me that?" the disciple asked, voice calm yet carrying the inherent authority of one trained and cultivated.
Li Qiye's eyes narrowed. "Li… Tianmu?"
His chest tightened further. "It's… really you. I did not expect… I would not have imagined seeing you here."
The disciple blinked, then straightened. Recognition flickered across his features, but his youthful face betrayed little of the decades spent in rigorous training under the sect. To Li Qiye, it was jarring: his younger brother, yet seemingly younger than he remembered.
Li Qiye let out a short, humorless laugh, shaking his head. "It's been… a long time."
Li Tianmu finally smiled faintly, soft amusement in his eyes. "Indeed. Much longer than I expected to see you again… though I have to say," he glanced closely at Li Qiye, "you look… far older than the last time I saw you."
Li Qiye shook his head. "I suppose life has its ways of doing that."
The two brothers paused, mist curling around their feet, carrying the faint trace of the peak's refined qi.
Li Tianmu's expression shifted, subtle concern flickering across his youthful features. "I came as quickly as I could. The city… the Li clan… the elders. I heard rumors." He hesitated. "One of the guard-disciples spoke of a disaster—an attack."
Li Qiye's gaze darkened. "It was worse than rumor. The attack… it was sudden. Demon beasts—strong, intelligent—they struck without warning. The elders fought… but they were overwhelmed. All were killed. Even the treasury was emptied."
Li Tianmu's eyes widened. "All the elders? But… that cannot be… not unless—"
Li Qiye shook his head. "I came here immediately, seeking Elder Lianhua's help. I could not wait."
Li Tianmu pressed his lips together, holding back disbelief and fear. Finally, softly but firmly, he said: "If what you say is true… then this is grave indeed. And you… you made it here alone?"
Li Qiye inclined his head slightly. "Alone, yes. I could not risk delay. There is much you do not know yet."
Li Tianmu's eyes, still youthful but sharp, studied him. "Then… tell me everything. Every detail. I heard only whispers from the guard-disciples. I came as soon as I could, but it seems the truth is far more terrible than I imagined."
Li Qiye nodded, taking a deep breath. "Then listen carefully, brother. I will tell you everything as it happened…"
The mist wrapped around the two Li clan heirs, the sound of the peak wind whispering through the spirit trees as the weight of the city's calamity—and the secrets it concealed—settled between them.
They spoke in low tones, every word carrying weight, the air measured—a careful dance of siblings reunited under grim circumstances.
Then Li Qiye paused mid-sentence.
A subtle **shift in the air** brushed against the edges of his senses—almost imperceptible, yet impossible to ignore.
He glanced toward the path behind them. Nothing. No one moved.
"Brother… do you feel that?" Li Qiye whispered.
Li Tianmu's eyes narrowed, subtle recognition flickering. "I do. But there is no one here, is there?"
The mist wavered. The courtyard, the path, the trees—all appeared empty.
And yet, the weight remained. Calm. Steady. **Judging.**
Li Qiye's grip tightened slightly on his sleeve.
"She… she is still here," he muttered.
Li Tianmu's gaze sharpened. "Who?"
"Elder Lianhua," Li Qiye said, voice low but certain. "She brought me here. She hasn't left. She's watching—waiting for us to speak, to reveal what we know."
A pause. Both brothers froze, realization settling over them like the first cold wind of winter.
Li Tianmu studied the air, the subtle flow of qi, the almost imperceptible ripple where the mist seemed to part slightly, responding to an unseen presence. "I see," he said quietly. "So you're saying she allows us to converse… but does not intrude."