Tinghe Pavilion fell suddenly silent.
Zhou Moxuan's face turned ashen, his gaze locked on Zhou Zhilán's neck. The purple and blue hand-shaped bruises were terrifying, new wounds stacked over old ones, showing this wasn't the first time she'd endured such treatment.
Xie Zhaolin raised an eyebrow. No wonder she'd kept her neck covered all this time. She'd been waiting for this moment.
Zhou Zhilán slightly turned her head, as if unable to bear everyone's gaze. Her long lashes trembled, and a single tear slipped silently down her cheek.
"Zhou Yucheng!" Zhou Moxuan's voice thundered. Spiritual energy surged in his sleeve as he slammed a palm down, forcing him to kneel. "How dare you lay hands on your own clan?!"
Zhou Yucheng's eyes were bloodshot. He roared, "She stole my herbs! She—"
"Second Brother…" Zhou Zhilán's voice trembled. She sounded frightened, yet she forced herself to defend him. "Seventh Uncle… Second Brother just acted impulsively… I'm… I'm fine…"
She tried to pick up the silk scarf from the ground, but trembling hands failed a few times. No one noticed that her fingertips brushed the scarf lightly, completely masking the faint, hidden scent.
"Zhilán!" Zhou Moxuan's voice tightened. He reached out, wanting to help, but hesitated for fear of hurting her, clenching his fists instead. "Why… why do you defend him?"
"Seventh Uncle…" Zhou Zhilán lowered her head slightly. "Second Brother… must have misstepped in his cultivation…" Her tear-blurred eyes lifted, revealing a perfectly timed bitter smile. "It's my fault… I've been busy organizing the workshop accounts these past few days… forgot Second Brother's instructions…"
Zhou Moxuan's anger deepened. "All for something so trivial?!"
The Zhou family elders exchanged glances. One elder, older and serious, said, "Yucheng, do you even know the crime for harming your own clan?"
Only then did Zhou Yucheng snap back to reality. His face turned ghostly pale. "No… it's not me! It's her! She… she has—"
He jabbed at Zhou Zhilán's scarf, but the silk was spotless, showing no sign of tampering.
Zhou Zhilán shrank back from his shout, her shoulder tensing. She stumbled slightly due to her injuries but managed not to fall.
"Yucheng has been unsettled lately," the white-haired elder stroked his beard. "When I saw him practicing sword last month, his aura was already unstable."
"Indeed," another elder said gravely. "The other day, he quarreled with the tower disciples over a trivial matter and struck hard."
Zhou Moxuan's face darkened, scanning the elders before fixing his gaze on the struggling Second Young Master.
"Guards!" he barked. "Take Second Young Master to the Frozen Ice Cave immediately. He'll face judgment after the Patriarch returns!"
The servants moved to drag Zhou Yucheng away. He still roared, but Zhou Zhilán kept her head lowered, fingers clutching her skirt, enduring the agony.
Not from pain, but from exhilaration.
"Zhilán…" Zhou Moxuan's voice was hoarse. "Go back and rest for now. You don't need to visit the workshop these days."
She nodded lightly without speaking.
As she turned, her eyes briefly met Xie Zhaolin's. Both understood each other's intentions.
One made her own injuries believable, the other secured her father's rise.
A guaranteed win.
Once Zhou Zhilán disappeared down the corridor, the tense atmosphere in the hall eased slightly. Zhou Moxuan exhaled deeply and bowed slightly to Xie Zhaolin. "I apologize for the embarrassment today, Elder Mingyue."
Xie Zhaolin, pale, blood still staining her lips, shook her head. "Seventh Lord, you overstate."
"How's your injury?" Zhou Moxuan asked, eyes dropping to the blood on her robe.
"It's nothing." She lightly wiped her lips. "Just the spiritual energy shock aggravated an old wound."
Zhou Moxuan's face darkened further. "All because the Zhou family failed to discipline him, causing you to be hurt. I'll have healing pills sent immediately."
"Seventh Lord, don't blame yourself. Cultivators can't avoid accidents." She shook her head.
After a few more casual words, everyone left.
Late at night.
Xie Zhaolin sat cross-legged, a liquid refined from Ice Soul Powder and Snow Spirit Mushrooms hovering in her palms. Black energy swirled as the elixir seeped into her meridians, easing the tearing pain of old injuries.
"Fifty percent…"
She opened her eyes, staring at herself in the bronze mirror. Her body had fully merged with her consciousness, her cultivation nearing the peak of Qi Refinement. Just one more step, and she'd return to Foundation Establishment.
Outside, faint footsteps approached.
"Senior," Zhou Zhilán's voice called from the door.
"Come in."
She entered, now wearing a plain outfit, the marks on her neck even more gruesome in the candlelight.
Xie Zhaolin glanced at her. "You've got a cruel streak."
"All thanks to you, Senior," Zhou Zhilán said with a smile. "This outcome is exactly what everyone wants to see."
"But…" Xie Zhaolin set down her teacup. "Your Seventh Uncle's gaze on you wasn't like he was looking at an innocent victim."
"Of course he knows something's off." Zhou Zhilán's smile faded as she tapped the table lightly. "He's not helping me; he's making sure Second Brother's actions don't implicate him."
She walked to the window, looking over the Zhou estate at night. "These years, Seventh Uncle hasn't exactly been generous with resources. Now he's using Second Brother as a scapegoat."
Xie Zhaolin studied her. "Aren't you afraid he'll turn the tables?"
"He won't." Zhou Zhilán turned, pointing her fingers slightly. "Seventh Uncle knows better than anyone that to balance the Patriarch in resource allocation, he needs our cooperation."
"And he also knows this is a legitimate chance to suppress the main branch."
She pulled a jade communication slip from her sleeve. "He just sent this." It clearly instructed her father to discuss matters in the study tomorrow.
Xie Zhaolin glanced at it, lips curling slightly. "Looks like your father's promotion is already settled."
A cold glint appeared in Zhou Zhilán's eyes. "We're just taking what we need. Seventh Uncle needs someone to run the workshop, and we need his support…"
The topic shifted abruptly. "Senior, what do you think about the northern mines?"
Xie Zhaolin raised an eyebrow. "Zhou Yucheng?"
"A useless wretch who lost the Patriarch's favor and offended Seventh Uncle…" Zhou Zhilán traced the bruises on her neck. "He'll be perfect for that environment."
In the flickering candlelight, her smile was innocent and cruel at once.
Xie Zhaolin tapped the table. "The north is far, but it's not without risks."
Zhou Zhilán looked up, eyes dark in the candlelight. "You worry too much, Senior. I've come this far. I won't leave any loose ends. Besides…" she suddenly chuckled. "I'm not the only one waiting to see him fail."
Xie Zhaolin stared at her for a moment before changing the topic. "What about Xu Changming's side?"
"The Hehuan Sect is pressing hard. He's busy tracking the evil cultivators, can't spare time for us," Zhou Zhilán paused, then added, "But he'll return eventually."
The candlelight flickered over the grotesque marks on her neck.
Xie Zhaolin gently lifted her hand, smoothing the scarf over the bruises. As the silk covered them, her fingertips paused slightly. "Let's keep this for now."