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Chapter 19 - CHAPTER 18

(BAOLI ZHONG)

Classes had ended, and the midday meal had begun.

At one of the long tables, sisters Feng Xiao and Feng Lingxi ate quietly, their movements calm and graceful.

"I received a letter from Father," Xiao said at last, breaking the silence.

Lingxi looked up. "About what?"

"Mei is returning today. If she waited for Yangguang, she would've been delayed much longer," Xiao explained.

A faint spark lit Lingxi's eyes. "Good. I've been waiting to speak with her."

Xiao sighed softly. "And what do you plan on telling her this time? Ling, you never learn when it comes to Mei'yin. Forget it—whatever it is you're holding on to, Mei has surely let go by now."

Lingxi pressed her lips together, choosing silence instead of an answer.

Then, from a nearby table, whispers rose just loud enough to be heard.

"Look at her," one girl sneered. "I bet she still dreams of being with one of the Qins."

"Does she think she's worth anything? Pathetic," another chimed in, both of them giggling cruelly.

The sisters turned their gaze and saw Yuming, sitting alone at the far table, quietly eating as though she hadn't heard.

"She hears them, doesn't she?" Lingxi asked softly. Xiao gave a small nod.

"Then why doesn't she confront them?" Lingxi pressed, her tone edged with scorn yet touched with pity.

"Because that isn't Yuming," Xiao replied calmly. "She's always endured the judgment of others. What matters, Ling, is that we don't see her that way."

Lingxi's jaw tightened. She tried to continue her meal, but the cruel laughter behind her scraped at her patience. Finally, she slammed her hands against the table and rose, tipping the girls' table over with a sharp crash.

"Ling!" Xiao called out, alarm flashing in her eyes.

The girls froze for a moment, startled, but one quickly found her voice.

"What's your problem?! Just because you're a leader's daughter doesn't mean you can trample on everyone else!"

Lingxi's hand struck before the girl could blink—one sharp slap that echoed through the hall.

"Yes, I am a leader's daughter," she spat, "but my manners are still far better than yours. Judgmental fools!"

Xiao rushed to her sister's side, catching her arm. "Control yourself, Ling!"

"Judgmental? You liar!" another girl shrieked, seizing a knife from the table. She raised it, ready to strike, but before the blade could fly, a sudden gust of wind swirled through the hall—Xiao's power knocking it aside.

"Enough!" Xiao's voice thundered. "If you dare harm my sister, the punishment will be severe! The only reason she raised her hand was because of your constant judgment of another. Tell me—doesn't that deserve punishment?"

"There is punishment for it," Wu Ziyi cut in coolly. "But this is the first time it happened here. Shouldn't they be given a chance?"

Lingxi gave a bitter, mocking smile. "A chance? They've done this countless times—days, months, years—always to the same girl. And you knew, Ziyi. You heard it, but instead of stopping them, you enjoyed it."

Ziyi's face hardened with fury, and the hall erupted into chaos—Feng Xiao and Feng Lingxi standing their ground against Wu Ziyi and her companions.

"You've made a grave mistake crossing us, Ms. Wu!" Xiao declared.

"And you're bold enough to act like you can win, when you know you can't!" Lingxi snapped.

Before the clash could worsen, Bai Linyan swept into the hall, her voice sharp with authority.

"Enough! Bow and apologize!" she commanded. At once, her companions lowered their heads in shame.

"Lady Feng Xiaoyan, Feng Lingxi," Linyan said with respect, "I give you my word—my companions will accept whatever punishment you decide."

"Ask Ling," Xiao replied firmly.

Lingxi scanned the hall and realized Yuming was already gone. Her anger softened into resolve.

"Apologize to Yuming. That is the punishment I demand." With that, she turned and left with her sister.

Once they were gone, Bai Linyan's expression darkened as she faced Ziyi.

"You weren't thinking," she hissed before turning to the two who had started it all. "You will face her punishment. Learn this well—speaking ill of another brings nothing but disgrace."

(BAOLI ZHONG — Courtyard)

The sun was dipping into gold when the carriage finally rolled into the gates. Before it even stopped, a lively voice rang out

"Sister Xiao! Don't tell me you weren't waiting for me—oh wait, you were! Look at you, standing so prim and proper, like an old lady!"

The curtains were flung aside, and Mei hopped down. She didn't walk—she practically bounced onto the stone path, her grin wide, her cheeks flushed from travel.

Feng Xiao shook her head, a soft smile tugging at her lips. "You still haven't changed. Can't you arrive like a normal person, Mei?"

"Normal is boring," Mei chirped, skipping up to her and looping her arm through Xiao's before Xiao could protest. "Besides, you'd miss me if I weren't like this."

Xiao gave her a side glance. "Miss you? I was enjoying the quiet."

Mei gasped dramatically, pouting as she clutched her chest. "Cruel! My dearest sister welcomes me with insults. I traveled all this way, risked dust and heat and hunger, only to be told she liked life better without me?"

Xiao chuckled under her breath. "You exaggerate too much."

Mei leaned in closer, her grin turning sly. "Now, tell me—where's sister Ling? Don't tell me she ran away the moment she heard I was coming."

Xiao's steps slowed, her expression smoothing into calm neutrality. "She went somewhere. She'll come find you later."

Mei narrowed her eyes, though the mischief never left them. "Mm? That sounded suspicious. "

"Mei," Xiao warned gently, but Mei only giggled and twirled in front of her, walking backward now as she spoke.

"Well, wherever she is, I'll find her. She owes me a proper welcome." She wagged a playful finger, then suddenly brightened. "Oh! Unless she's hiding a surprise for me—"

Mei said with a wink. With that, she spun around and ran ahead, calling back over her shoulder, "Come on, sister Xiao, Don't walk like a turtle—you'll make me old waiting for you!"

Xiao could only shake her head again, her smile lingering despite herself. Mei's presence was like a sudden spark of sunlight—loud, reckless, and impossible to ignore.

The noise of the dining hall was far behind her. Feng Lingxi crouched in the quiet grove, eyes fixed on a small bird trapped in the brush. With patient hands, she caught it, its wings beating anxiously against her palms.

She stroked its feathers lightly before whispering, almost to herself, "This will do."

As she turned the bird gently in her hands, a voice came from behind.

"You're bleeding."

Lingxi's head snapped up. Yuming stood a few steps away, watching her with that familiar look—half mischief, half detachment.

Lingxi glanced down. A thin cut ran across her knuckle, earned earlier when she'd overturned the table. She had almost forgotten it.

"It's nothing," she said flatly.

Yuming approached, producing a small porcelain vial. "Medicine. It'll sting, but better than leaving a mark."

Lingxi hesitated. They were not close—not friends, not even confidants. Still, she extended her hand. Yuming poured a few drops onto the wound, her touch unexpectedly careful.

"You're lucky it's shallow," Yuming remarked. "Any deeper, and you'd be explaining to Xiao why you injured yourself defending me."

When she finished, Lingxi flexed her fingers, her tone sharpening. "You heard them. Why didn't you confront them?"

Yuming tilted her head, lips quirking. "Because if I answered every insult, I'd never stop speaking. Sometimes silence is lighter than words."

"That's foolish," Lingxi countered, her gaze unwavering. "Silence only lets them believe they're right. Your endurance gives them permission."

Yuming let out a soft laugh, though it carried no joy. "And shouting back makes me what? A spectacle for their amusement? I'd rather they think me weak than waste myself proving otherwise."

Lingxi's eyes narrowed. "You're not weak. You know that."

For a heartbeat, Yuming's smile faltered, her mischief fading into something heavier. Then, just as quickly, she brushed it away.

"And here I thought we weren't friends," she teased. "Careful, Lingxi, you almost sound like you care about me."

Lingxi turned her face aside, lips pressed into a thin line. "…I don't like injustice. That's all."

Yuming chuckled softly, stepping back. "Then keep disliking it. Maybe one day, your dislike will actually change something."

The bird in Lingxi's hands fluttered but did not escape. She glanced down at it, stroking its wing gently.

"I'll give this to Mei," she murmured, half to herself. "She likes small creatures."

"Mei is coming?!" Yuming asked with Mischievous grin. Lingxi nodded.

From above, another bird called, as though echoing her thought. Yuming's eyes flicked toward the sound, then back to Lingxi, her expression unreadable.

"Well," Yuming said, sliding her hands into her sleeves. "Then I hope your sister appreciates gifts more than your words."

She turned to leave, her laughter low and fleeting, while Lingxi stayed beneath the tree—serious, quiet, and holding the bird.

The garden was quiet save for the rustle of leaves. Lingxi sat beneath a tree, the small bird nestled gently in her hands, its feathers rising and falling with every tiny breath. She was lost in thought when a familiar voice rang out, bright and mischievous:

"Aha! So this is where you've been hiding!"

Lingxi stiffened as Mei came skipping into the grove , her smile far too wide to be innocent.

"You should be resting from your travel," Lingxi replied, her tone calm, almost scolding.

Mei gasped dramatically, clutching her chest. "Rest? When my precious Lingxi abandoned me on the very day of my return? Cruel! Heartless! Truly, you don't care for me at all."

Lingxi sighed. "Don't exaggerate."

But Mei had already bounded forward, crouching beside her. Her sharp eyes caught the little bird in Lingxi's hands, and her playful pout instantly transformed into wonder.

"Ohhh—what's this? You caught it just for me, didn't you?" she cooed, leaning dangerously close.

Lingxi looked away, her ears faintly pink. "…I thought you might like it."

Mei's grin grew impossibly wider. "See? I knew you missed me! You're too serious—you should just say it outright. 'Mei, I adore you, so I caught you a bird.' That's what you wanted to say, right?"

Lingxi's eyes narrowed. "No."

Mei giggled, her laughter light and teasing. She reached out and stroked the bird's head, careful not to frighten it.

Lingxi's lips pressed into a thin line. "…You're insufferable."

"And yet you caught me a gift," Mei shot back, winking.

For a moment, the air between them softened. Mei's teasing quieted, her voice dropping lower. "Thank you, It means more than you think."

The bird fluttered in Lingxi's palms, and Mei laughed softly, cupping her hands beneath as if ready to hold it herself.

Mei cupped her hands under Lingxi's, trying to coax the little bird closer. "Come on, don't be shy. I'm much prettier than my sister, you'll like me better," she teased with a mischievous grin.

Lingxi gave her a flat look. "Don't frighten it."

"I'm not! I'm charming it," Mei argued, sticking out her tongue.

Xiao stood at the edge of the grove, hands tucked neatly behind her back. Her calm gaze flicked first to Lingxi, then to Mei, who was crouched and grinning like a child caught in mischief.

"Sister Xiao!" Mei bounced up instantly, abandoning the bird for a moment. She ran to her and hooked her arm through her.

The little bird fluttered in Lingxi's hands, and Mei's attention snapped back to it. She skipped over and held her palms out again. "May I?"

Lingxi hesitated before gently transferring the bird to her sister's hands. Mei's eyes softened, just for a moment, her playful mask slipping.

"…Thank you," she said, quieter this time.

Xiao's gaze lingered on them both, thoughtful. She didn't comment, but the faint curve of her lips betrayed her amusement at their contrast—Mei's bright bratty warmth against Lingxi's stern reserve.

(Council of the Four Clans)

The chamber of Louyang was alive with subdued tension. The scent of sandalwood hung heavy, blending with the faint trace of iron from weapons laid against the walls. Scrolls, maps, and spirit pouches were stacked across the long obsidian table, each one a testament to the struggles of the past weeks.

At the head, Master Jian of the Qinshan presided, sharp gaze sweeping the room. On his left sat Master Bai Yue, posture straight and unyielding. To the right, Master Lei of Fengming, calm yet watchful. And at the far end, Master Mo Xiang, his features drawn with quiet exhaustion, still bearing the mantle of his late father, Mo Yanli.

Behind each master stood their chosen heirs.

Qin Yijun, steady as stone.

Qin Yuxi, sharp-eyed, the weight of recent command still fresh on his shoulders.

Feng Yangguang, arms crossed, carrying the aura of a soldier who had seen too much battle.

Bai Chengxing and Bai Yujing, their expressions carefully measured, though the faint pride of their recent mission shone through.

Master Jian's voice broke the silence.

"Report. Let us speak of what was gained… and what was lost."

Bai Yujing stepped forward first, his tone clear and precise.

"My brother and I pursued the spirits along the western forest. They were sealed successfully, but the rift there widens faster than expected. If left unchecked, it may spread into the villages by month's end."

Bai Chengxing added, "We lost two men, both dragged into the rift before we could close it. Their sacrifice will not be forgotten."

Master Bai Yue inclined his head, expression unreadable, though a flicker of grief passed behind his stern eyes.

Next, Qin Yijun gave his account.

"The northern border holds, but barely. Ye's forces strike with unnatural speed. Morale is steady, though our men grow weary. If reinforcements do not arrive soon, I cannot guarantee the lines will hold another month."

A murmur rippled through the generals. Master Jian, however, gave a single nod. "You held them. That is what matters."

Then came Qin Yuxi's turn. He stood taller, gaze fixed firmly ahead.

"The Mo forces fought fiercely under my command. Their warriors proved effective in binding Ye's soldiers and spirits, though the cost was heavy. Four soldier fell before the last breach was sealed. Without Master Mo Xiang's guidance, we would have lost twice as many."

All eyes shifted briefly to Mo Xiang, who gave only a faint nod, his expression unreadable.

Finally, Feng Yangguang spoke, his voice edged with the bluntness of a battlefield soldier.

"The southern passes are clear. My men drove out Ye's stragglers and cleansed the mountain trails. Losses were minimal. But the spirits grow restless — even after sealing, I could feel their corruption lingering in the rocks themselves."

Master Lei's brows furrowed. "A corruption that roots itself… troublesome."

Silence fell again until Master Jian rose, his voice like tempered steel.

"We bled, but we did not break. Still, this war is not in our favor. The rifts widen, Ye's strength grows, and every life we lose feeds his father's shadow."

He turned his gaze upon the heirs — Yijun, Yuxi, Yangguang, Chengxing, and Yujing.

"You are the next line. You have faced battle, loss, and doubt — and yet you returned. Remember this: the war is not won by power alone, but by unity. If the clans falter, all realms will fall."

For a moment, the room was still, the weight of his words pressing down like a mountain.

Then Master Mo Xiang finally spoke, his voice quiet but resolute.

"My father gave his life to hold the balance. I will not let that sacrifice be wasted. The Mo Clan stands ready — with the Qin, Bai, and Feng. Together, we will endure."

The masters exchanged glances, an unspoken agreement binding them once more.

At the table's end, the heirs exchanged looks of their own. Different as they were — the steady Yijun, the sharp Yuxi, the hardened Yangguang, the calculating Chengxing, and the keen-eyed Yujing — a fragile thread of camaraderie seemed to spark between them.

The war was far from over. But the next generation had taken their place.

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