Chapter 97 – The Weight of Devotion
The late-afternoon sun struck at an angle across the cedar columns of the Autumn Wind Pavilion. The wind carried the scent of willow and the sound of lake water striking the stones. A lethargic peace hung in the air—the silence that swallows noble houses when the evening shadows begin to lengthen.
From the corner of the terrace came the mild hiss of water boiling in a cast-iron kettle.
Elder Yáo crossed the stone gates with firm steps, her silver silk tunic swaying around her legs. She carried a small lacquered wooden case, intending to deliver old records on herb refinement to Qīng Yǔ.
Upon stepping onto the first slab of the veranda, the Elder stopped. She extended her perception by reflex, but the pavilion was empty.
"The Fifth Lady will regret missing the Elder's visit," a calm, deep voice sounded from the shadow of the corridor.
Mò Zhōng emerged from the penumbra with impeccable posture. He wore a reddish-brown tunic fitted to his broad shoulders. His clear skin and the sober features of a man nearing thirty exuded absolute calm. His feet slid over the boards without producing a single creak.
He stopped three steps away and bowed in greeting. Not a single hair out of place, exactly as etiquette required.
"My Lord and my Ladies have gone out to settle affairs elsewhere," the butler continued, straightening his posture with serenity. "The water for the lotus-bud infusion has just reached a boil. If you will allow me the courtesy, it will be an honor to serve while the Elder waits."
Yáo looked the man up and down, her dark eyes gleaming with interest. The stillness of that courtyard and the butler's magnetic bearing made refusal indelicate.
"In that case, Mò Zhōng," she said in a light tone. "Serve the tea. Let's see if the household staff lives up to their master's reputation. I am already tired of hearing my disciple's endless praises of him."
Mò Zhōng nodded slowly, turning to fetch the tea. He returned moments later with the sea-green porcelain cups and the floating teapot, guiding the Elder to a delicate table of pale spirit metals in the middle of the garden.
The Elder pointed with her chin toward the bench on the other side of the table.
"Sit and keep me company."
The butler poured a continuous thread of steaming tea into the Elder's porcelain cup. He set the pot on the stone base and sat. Only after settling his posture did he raise the vessel again to pour his own cup in a polished manner.
Yáo lifted the cup to her lips. The warm steam brushed her face as she took a short sip. Her sharp senses followed every movement of the man before her.
"Your cultivation doesn't quite make sense," she said, setting the cup down with a soft click. "You are over a hundred years old and yet you are only at the Late Transcendent Stage, which even an ordinary disciple would have already surpassed by now. Not that a butler must be a genius at cultivation, but considering whom you serve… Does he not look after the servants? After all, no one is perfect."
"My Lord is generous with the foundation of those who tend his house, Elder," he answered in a flat tone. "This humble one lived in mediocrity until I nearly withered. It was my Lord's grace that gave me the chance to truly enter the Dao. He was the one who restored my youth."
"Interesting." Yáo let out a low laugh. Her gaze lingered on the delicate way his thick fingers held the saucer. "But you never tire of praising him… It isn't possible that he doesn't have a single flaw."
"No one is perfect, Elder," the butler countered, shaking his head slightly. "For example, my Master is extremely cautious despite the power he holds."
Yáo blinked, not knowing how to answer.
"There really is something off about all of you." The Elder paused, studying the man's face. "Don't tell me he is also responsible for the current instability of the world?"
Mò Zhōng did not so much as blink at the misplaced accusation.
"My Lord's affairs belong to him. My duty is only to tend the house."
"A perfect answer," Yáo murmured, her lips curving into a subtle smile of admiration. "Not a word more, not a word less. It is rare to find a man so impenetrable."
The Elder raised the cup again, savoring the aroma.
Mò Zhōng set his on the saucer. The sound of porcelain touching stone was the only thing to echo on the veranda.
Before Yáo could say another word, Mò Zhōng's hand trembled on the table. The butler's pupils contracted like needles. He cast a single, almost imperceptible glance toward the inner corridor.
The air snapped. A deafening roar, like a mountain breaking in half, tore through the heart of the Pavilion.
The tea trembled in Yáo's hands. Mò Zhōng rose in a fluid motion, already recognizing the familiar cries, while the Elder stood with her divine sense sweeping the hall.
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Space warped and violently spat the entire retinue into the center of the hall.
Chaos erupted. Yù Qíng spun her body, eyes wide, trying to leap back into the silver fissure that was beginning to shrink in the air.
"Eldest Sister, no!" Mò Yán shouted. She and Bái Wǎn shot forward, launching beams of Qi to lock space and keep the First Wife from returning to certain death in the canyon.
Yù Qíng stopped. When she turned her face toward her sisters, her eyes were red.
Her answer left no room for bargaining. Yù Qíng invoked the Law of Devotion.
The conceptual weight of the family's foundation crashed down. The force smashed Mò Yán, Bái Wǎn, and the other sisters, forcing them to their knees.
Yù Méi let out a muffled growl, but she could not lift her head before her sister.
The karmic veils and the illusions that disguised the women fell.
Mò Zhōng and the two former Hegemonics lowered their heads at once, pinning their gazes to the floor. To dare look up would be an insult.
Elder Yáo held her breath. The cup slipped from her fingers, and time seemed to stretch.
"No one will stop me from being with my husband," Yù Qíng hissed, cold and sharp. She took a step toward the fissure.
With the porcelain cup still in free fall, Yáo intervened. Acting on pure reflex, the Elder launched her Qi to hold the woman in navy-blue silk and stabilize the situation. The instant the energy touched Yù Qíng's body, the First Wife stiffened.
"Stay out of it!" Yù Qíng shouted.
A wave of Qi exploded from her core. The Law of Devotion spread through the room. The force of that impact ignored cultivation level and struck Yáo full in the chest. The Elder staggered a sharp step backward, her breath stolen, releasing Yù Qíng from her grip.
On the other side of the hall, Xú Lán watched everything, her breathing accelerated.
Damn, damn, damn, the white-haired woman thought. There goes my chance of staying on the First Lady's good side.
The order Zhì Yuǎn had given in the canyon, however, was absolute. Xú Lán looked at Lóu Jiàn and Jiàn Wúshuang, who did not dare raise their eyes to their Ladies. The responsibility had fallen entirely into her lap.
Xú Lán swallowed hard and apologized mentally. The density of the Second Stage of Immortal Establishment burst from her meridians.
The temperature of the hall plunged. Xú Lán's domain swallowed the room and froze the very fabric of space, crystallizing the drops of tea in the air and pinning the porcelain at the exact instant it shattered against the cedar floor. A crushing prison of ice locked the First Wife's limbs, halting all movement.
With the overwhelming difference in Qi density, Yù Qíng's meridians were sealed by force, leaving her without Qi to burn and shattering the invocation of Devotion.
In the corner of the room, Elder Yáo remained petrified. She did not even react to the impact that had destabilized her while her breath locked in her throat.
W-when did my little Yǔ turn into… a goddess?
She stared at Qīng Yǔ with a blank mind, unable to comprehend how mortal flesh had reached such perfection.
Yù Qíng hung paralyzed in the air, one step from the fissure. She turned her face slowly, breaking ice crystals on her skin. The glare she leveled at Xú Lán carried a bottomless hatred.
Xú Lán's stomach turned. Immediately, she turned her face toward the other two slaves, glaring daggers at them and grinding her teeth for having left the burden in her hands.