Chapter 76 – The Heart's Defense and the Unseen Path
The Liu Clan's ancestral hall breathed with an uneasy silence.
Polished cedar pillars framed the space, incense smoke curling in slow ribbons through the fading light.
Outside, cicadas sang their night hymns, their rhythm weaving through the hall's stillness like a nervous heartbeat.
Every face in the room turned toward Lin Xuan — the son who had vanished for years and returned with power in his aura and a stranger by his side.
He sat straight-backed on the woven mat at the center, the faint white pupils in his black eyes shimmering under the lamplight.
The Celestial Unity Crest pulsed faintly across his back, a rhythmic glow that almost matched the rise and fall of his breathing.
Anika sat beside him, posture composed, the quiet confidence in her bearing both soothing and provoking.
The tension between them and the family hung invisible yet sharp.
Lin Xuan broke it first.
"She's tied to Ren somehow," he said, his voice even but carrying the gravel of sleepless nights. "But I don't accept her claim. The tower inside my sea of consciousness brought her forth, and she speaks of bonds I don't remember."
The words landed like stones.
Across from him, Luo Shuang's fingers tightened around her teacup.
Her silver hair fell in waves around her shoulders, gleaming softly in the lantern light.
When she finally spoke, her voice cracked — not from weakness, but from the strain of a mother trying to hold together faith and fear.
"Xuan'er," she whispered, "is this true? Is Ren… still out there? Is your father bound to all this?"
Lin Xuan lowered his gaze, the memories flashing — the pulse of the Black Tomb Tower, the echo of an unfamiliar man's voice in his dreams.
"Yes, Mother," he said quietly. "The tower carries his essence. And she…" — he nodded toward Anika — "knows him. But I need to find the truth myself. I won't let anyone else decide it for me."
Anika turned her head, her expression softening.
"Mother," she said gently, and the single word carried warmth despite the storm that followed it. "You are Ren's wife, aren't you? Please don't hate him for leaving. He carried burdens none of us understood. Foolish, yes, but his heart never strayed. He tried to protect you — to protect them."
Her voice trembled on the last word, the ghost of grief brushing across her tone.
The room thickened with memory: the scent of incense, the sound of rain on old rooftiles, the shadow of the man none of them had seen in years.
Liu Yue, ever the most sensitive, reached out and clutched Lin Xuan's arm.
Her crimson-ribboned hair fell across her cheek, her eyes glistening with a confusion that made her look younger than her rank suggested.
"Brother," she murmured, "does that mean Father is alive? Is he watching us through that tower?"
Liu Yang shifted beside her, the Blood Forged Glaive resting against his knee.
Its red aura pulsed faintly, catching the edges of the lamplight.
"She's strange," he said in a low growl. "Her words don't sit right. Brother, keep your guard."
Lin Xuan reached across the table and took his mother's trembling hand.
His fingers were calloused, the faint scars on his knuckles telling of a thousand battles fought alone.
"Whatever truth I find," he said, voice steady, "I'll bring it home. Even if it destroys me, I'll bring clarity to Father's name."
The statement silenced the room.
The incense burned low, a single coil curling into the air as Luo Shuang's tears slipped free.
She squeezed his hand in return, her expression torn between pride and sorrow.
"You've grown into him," she murmured. "But promise me, Xuan'er — don't lose the part of yourself that still laughs."
"I'll try," he said, smiling faintly. "But laughter's rarer these days."
Anika watched them, her gaze unreadable.
For a fleeting instant, something like regret flickered in her eyes — a reflection of a memory that didn't belong to this time, this family, or perhaps even this world.
Later that evening, the family drifted into the garden where night jasmine opened its white petals to the stars.
The air was cool, scented with dew and faint traces of sandalwood.
Lin Xuan walked beside Luo Shuang along the stone path, the moonlight painting his scars silver.
His thoughts churned beneath his calm exterior, circling the mystery that had haunted him since the Black Tomb.
The Celestial Unity Crest pulsed once, faintly warming.
He took a slow breath, letting the world narrow to the quiet rhythm of his heart.
A faint sheen of jade light rippled over his skin — the early form of the Jade Aegis technique from the Human Emperor Records.
The glow hardened like a second skin, deflecting a drifting leaf that brushed against his arm.
Even that soft contact made the air hum.
Luo Shuang watched with quiet awe. "You've changed," she said softly. "Every movement of yours feels deliberate now — heavier, like the earth itself moves with you."
He smiled faintly. "The forest taught me to listen. And pain taught me to endure."
Then his tone turned solemn. "But Mother… it's your pain that drives me. I want to understand Father, not just avenge or redeem him. I want to see why he chose silence."
Her eyes glimmered in the moonlight. She touched his cheek, her hand trembling.
"You're my son," she said. "That's all I need. Find him, Xuan'er — but come back whole."
He bowed his head slightly, sealing the vow in silence.
A soft wind stirred the garden.
Liu Yue approached, her aura of the Seventh Layer Profound Heavenly Realm glimmering faintly in the dark.
She carried a tray of tea, the porcelain cups clinking softly.
"Mother, Brother," she said, smiling gently, "you two should rest. You look like ghosts under the moon."
Lin Xuan chuckled. "I thought I was the ghost in this house."
She sat beside him and brushed his arm lightly, a sister's affection mixed with reverence.
"Maybe," she said, "but even ghosts can protect the living. We believe in you, Brother. Father's shadow doesn't scare us anymore."
Liu Yang joined a few steps later, his glaive resting on his shoulder.
"I'll back you up," he said simply. "Whatever that tower hides, we'll face it together. The Liu Clan isn't a name that bends easily."
The three of them stood there under the moon — mother, sister, brother — the bond between them reforged in quiet promise.
Lin Xuan felt it deep within, the knot in his chest loosening.
He reached out, squeezed Liu Yue's hand once, then turned his gaze upward toward the stars.
The Celestial Unity Crest flared softly as he whispered a mantra from the Human Emperor Records.
Qi spiraled through his meridians, forming a thin luminous web in his dantian.
"Gene Legacy Chant," he murmured.
The ancestral resonance stirred within him — ancient voices echoing faintly in his blood.
His perception sharpened until he could feel the heartbeat of the garden itself.
A falling jasmine petal drifted past; he moved without thinking, catching it before it touched the ground.
The movement was effortless, instinctive — proof that his body and mind were finally in sync.
From the edge of the courtyard, Anika watched in silence.
The moonlight painted her in shades of violet and silver, her eyes distant, unreadable.
When she finally spoke, her voice was almost a prayer.
"Ren," she whispered, "guide him. He doesn't know how heavy your promise truly was."
Later that night, Lin Xuan returned to the meditation chamber — a small circular room lit by a single candle.
The scent of sandalwood lingered here too, but now it was sharper, edged by the faint hum of his spiritual energy.
He sat cross-legged, back straight, eyes closed.
Within the stillness of his mind, the Black Tomb Tower appeared again — its spire reaching into a darkness he couldn't yet name.
From deep within it came the echo of a heartbeat not his own.
He focused on his breathing.
The Scriptures of Severed Unity responded to his intent, forming translucent lines of qi across his consciousness.
He visualized them as strands of silk connecting everything — flame, breath, life.
With a precise mental command, he willed the Qi Web Severance technique into motion.
The threads of energy surrounding the candle flickered; the flame dimmed, its vitality temporarily cut.
The action drained a trickle of his strength but left his mind clearer than before.
"So that's the edge of it," he murmured. "Control not of force, but of connection."
He reopened his eyes, watching the flame recover.
The glow reflected faintly in his pupils, two rings of white haloing the black.
His voice dropped into a vow whispered only to the quiet room.
"I'll unravel your secret, Anika. And Father's. Even if it burns me from the inside."
The Celestial Unity Crest pulsed once in response, faint yet resolute.
Somewhere within, the tower echoed that pulse — as if two hearts beat to the same rhythm.
Outside, the Liu Clan mansion slept beneath the moon.
Luo Shuang sat by the window, unable to rest.
She gazed at the stars and whispered a silent prayer — for her lost husband, for her returned son, and for the stranger who might bridge or break them.
The night answered only with wind.
In the courtyard below, Liu Yue practiced her sword forms under starlight, movements graceful but sharp, each slash humming with restrained emotion.
Liu Yang watched from the veranda, polishing his glaive, his thoughts heavier than his expression revealed.
"We're together again," he muttered. "Let's hope it stays that way."
Anika lingered beneath a willow, half shadow, half moonbeam.
Her lips parted as if speaking to someone unseen.
"Soon," she whispered, "he'll remember. Whether he forgives or not… that isn't mine to decide."
Inside the meditation chamber, the candle had nearly burned out.
Lin Xuan's breathing slowed, his consciousness sinking deeper into the space between dreams and memory.
There, the Black Tomb Tower rose before him again — but this time, faint outlines of doors appeared along its base, each one etched with names he could not yet read.
A whisper brushed the edges of his mind — a man's voice, calm and distant.
"The unseen path isn't walked by sight, my son. It's felt by faith."
Lin Xuan's eyes snapped open.
For a heartbeat, the voice had been so real he could almost feel the warmth behind it.
His hands trembled as he stared at the candle's dying flame.
"Father…" he breathed.
The flame guttered, then steadied — its glow reflecting the resolve in his eyes.
He straightened his back, exhaled slowly, and closed his eyes once more.
Whatever waited within that tower, he would face it — with heart unbroken, with family beside him, and with faith strong enough to carve the unseen path.