Yun Huang's fingertip lightly rapped the dark-jade armrest, the "tok, tok" rippling out across the deathly-still hall, striking the tip of Yun Chi's heart with the precision of a heavy hammer.
Yun Chi went rigid all over like cold stone, cold sweat bursting at once from his temples and soaking his lapel down the side of his hair. He dropped to his knees with a thud, forehead pressed hard to the icy jade tiles, his voice shaking beyond all tune: "Y-Young Lord, see clearly! This younger one was only anxious for his cousin and spoke out of turn for a moment. I beg the Young Lord to lay the punishment on me!" Inwardly he was aghast — had his provocation just now been seen through? How was it that Yun Qing could take every stroke of fortune and win the Young Lord's special regard?!
Yun Huang lowered his eyes, his gaze like ten-thousand-year ice sweeping indifferently over Yun Chi's back, quaking violently with fear, as though he were looking at a flawed implement.
"The Spirit-Devouring Body... rare enough, I suppose." His tone was bland, no praise or blame to be told in it. "A pity — with pearl and jade before it, rubble can hardly hold its place. This scrap of a gift is, in the end, of no use, is it?"
"Pearl and jade before it" — meaning, of course, the Chaos Dao Embryo! The Spirit-Devouring Body and the Chaos Dao Embryo belonged to one and the same line, yet the former ranked several tiers lower — merely one of the Chaos Dao Embryo's subordinate spirit-bodies.
A great shock struck Yun Chi within! The Young Lord — had he known of Grandfather's scheme all along?! A chill shot straight from his soles to the crown of his skull; he no longer dared call himself "younger one" to claim closeness, and lost all thought of imitating Yun Qing.
He kowtowed again and again, his brow striking the golden brick with a thudding sound, his voice thick with sobs: "Chi knows his fault! My thanks to the Young Lord for his merciful counsel!"
Yun Huang waved a hand blandly: "All of you, withdraw."
Yun Chi, as though granted a reprieve, retreated in a fluster with the Fifth Elder and the rest, his back a picture of wretchedness, his heart left with nothing but the lingering fear of a life narrowly kept and an unquenched resentment. Since Heaven had made a genius like Yun Qing, why must it make him too? Was he to be pressed forever beneath Yun Qing? By what right was Yun Qing the "pearl and jade"?! If he had the Chaos Dao Embryo...
The hall returned to silence. Yun Huang gazed coldly at the empty doorway, a wisp of blazing-sun divine fire flashing at his fingertip, scorching clean the ground where Yun Hao and Yun Chi had knelt.
As a reincarnated Immortal Emperor, having borrowed the Yun Clan's fortune-luck to steady his foundation, he took the clan as his own charge and would not slaughter its children without cause. But if someone went seeking his own death, he could hardly be blamed for accepting the offering with a smile.
A pity the master of that Chaos Dao Embryo was too knowing and too tactful, leaving him no pretext for the moment to "partake." Still... a most hidden, dim ripple crossed the depths of Yun Huang's eyes. Fortunately this "Spirit-Devouring Body" looked to be a foolish thing. Once it broke the clan's law, it would do nicely as a cauldron to fill a gap — better than nothing, at least.
***
His face calm, Yun Qing finished giving his instructions to the elder on watch: "The chief offender, Yun Hao, is left to the Young Lord's personal judgment. The rest — the servants who joined the brawl and fanned the flames — thirty strokes of the discipline-whip, cultivation sealed, dispatched at once to serve a hundred years at the Cold-Iron ore vein of the northern frontier, as a warning to others."
"Yes, Eldest Young Master." The elder bowed and received the order.
His public business settled, Yun Qing made his way back to Quiet-Heart Court along the corridor of the Qiwu Hall main palace. Only, his wounds not yet healed, his steps were not as steady as usual.
Dusk closed in on every side; palace lanterns lit one after another, their dim yellow halos wavering on the blue brick, drawing his shadow long and slender.
He had just rounded a corner of a hall when he came face to face with a party withdrawing from the main hall.
At their head was Fifth Elder Yun Jun, his face complicated. Behind him, two attendants were ever so carefully bearing a soft litter, and slumped upon it, ashen-faced and barely breathing, was none other than Yun Hao. Yun Qing's Double Pupils contracted faintly; a single glance told him the spiritual power throughout Yun Hao's body had collapsed — his cultivation crippled.
A step behind and to the side of the Fifth Elder followed Yun Chi, pale-faced, his eyes dim.
The two parties met in the corridor, the air between them a touch delicate.
Yun Qing halted first and gave the Fifth Elder a slight nod, gentle and courteous: "Fifth Elder."
Seeing it was him, the Fifth Elder squeezed out a forced smile and nodded in return: "Eldest Young Master." His gaze swept over Yun Qing's black battle-garb and faintly unsteady aura, and, recalling the word from the shrine, he understood in his heart.
This one had likely come down from the training ground not long ago; it seemed the Young Lord's "spar" just now had spared him little courtesy. But set against his own grandson's wretched state, that Yun Qing could stand here whole told, in itself, a great deal.
Yun Qing's gaze fell in due course on Yun Hao upon the litter, his brow furrowing faintly, a trace of surprise and gravity showing: "Worthy Brother Yun Hao is... how did this...?"
The Fifth Elder sighed and waved a hand, his tone weary: "Haah. This wretch has brought it on himself; that his life was spared is already a special mercy of the Young Lord's... I dare not trouble the Eldest Young Master further. This old one will prepare a small gift another day and call to offer his apologies." So saying, he signaled the attendants to bear Yun Hao off, and hurried away.
As Yun Chi brushed past him, the man bowed slightly, his voice betraying no feeling: "Eldest Young Master."
Yun Qing nodded faintly and, saying no more, went on toward Quiet-Heart Court.
Yun Chi gazed at his back as it vanished into the depths of the corridor, then lifted his eyes to the darkened sky, his brow knitting. So late, and by the look of the direction Yun Qing was heading into the depths of the Qiwu palace — could it be he lived within? That the Young Lord permitted him such closeness?!
Dread and unwillingness spread like poison vines. He clenched his fists all at once, nails biting into his palms. He must tell Grandfather at once of what he had seen today. The Cloud-Summit Martial Trial was near; before then, he must — must remove this greatest of obstacles!
At the corridor's end, within the shadows, Yun Qing's steps paused faintly, a trace of cold understanding crossing the depths of his Double Pupils.
Stepping into Quiet-Heart Court, he set a sealing ward at his back, and only then did the spine he had held straight so long slowly relax. Though Yun Huang had held back at the last in their fight, the searing pain and shock of the blazing-sun divine power that had invaded his meridians were not to be taken lightly — far beyond an ordinary wound.
Yun Qing sat down cross-legged, circulating the Chaos Dao Embryo to repair the damaged meridians, his brow faintly knit with pain. In his mind, the day's several strange turns replayed without end.
Today's affair had been pointed straight at Yun Qing, yet it did not look like the Fifth Elder's doing. He thought of the veiled envy in Yun Chi's eyes when they had brushed past in the corridor...
"The Cloud-Summit Martial Trial," Yun Qing murmured to himself.
The Yun Clan's Twelve Young Masters turned over once every thirty years — no mere pleasant title, but a thing bearing on the allotment of core resources and the succession to elders' seats. The Twelve Young Masters were the future Twelve Elders, set as firm as words carved in stone!
And what decided who those Twelve Young Masters would be was the "Cloud-Summit Martial Trial" to be held before long — the Yun Clan's Twelve Young Masters' position-swap battle!
Speaking of which, the Twelve Young Masters were generally inherited in turn by the heirs of the Twelve lines — though now and then a monster fell from the sky, as with Yun Qing.
Could it be for a seat in the Trial? Bring down him, the acknowledged "head of the Twelve Young Masters," and the vacated seat would naturally draw covetous eyes. But why was the one behind it so certain his own line's child could fill it? Where was the sense in passing over the twelfth seat to reach straight for the first? There was still something that did not add up.
"Knock, knock, knock."
A knock at the door, carrying a certain casualness, cut off his thoughts.
A trace of doubt flashed in Yun Qing's eyes. Who would come at this hour?
"Who is it?"