Just moments before Yoriichi arrived at the central compound, the atmosphere in Clan Leader Xiao Zhan's private courtyard had been suffocatingly tense.
The Pavilion Elder, usually a man of calm, wine-sipping demeanor, was standing rigidly before the Patriarch. He had just delivered his mandatory nightly report regarding the newly advanced Dou Zhe's selection from the treasury.
When the words 'Battle Through the Heavens' left the elder's mouth, Xiao Zhan had frozen. He stood rooted to the stone tiles of his veranda, his imposing Da Dou Shi aura fluctuating wildly, completely out of his control. For several agonizing seconds, absolute, crushing silence reigned in the courtyard.
Seeing the Patriarch's face drain of color, and feeling the heavy, erratic pressure of Xiao Zhan's leaked Dou Qi, the Pavilion Elder swallowed hard. The awkwardness was palpable. Without waiting to be dismissed, the elder offered a hasty, deep bow and practically scurried out of the courtyard, eager to escape the epicenter of the Clan Leader's impending wrath.
Alone in the dark, Xiao Zhan let out a long, ragged sigh, rubbing his face with both hands.
'The worst has come,' Xiao Zhan thought, a sinking feeling settling deep in his stomach. His chilling premonition from the night before had materialized into a waking nightmare. 'Out of hundreds of safe, reliable scrolls, that boy had to dig through the trash to find the one thing that could erase his existence.'
He began to pace the wooden floorboards of the veranda. He needed to deal with this immediately. The longer the boy held onto that cursed parchment, the more tempted he would be to circulate his Dou Qi according to its mad theories.
'I must be patient,' Xiao Zhan reminded himself, forcing his turbulent emotions into a tight box.
'I cannot show my frustration or anger in front of a youth as proud and mature as Xiao Ning. If I demand he hand it over like a tyrant, he may misunderstand my intentions and rebel. He just needs to be corrected. I will explain why it is useless, and he will understand.'
A few minutes later, the heavy wooden gates of the courtyard creaked open.
Yoriichi stepped into the front garden. He walked with his usual, ghostly silence, the moonlight casting long, sharp shadows across his dark robes. He paused at the edge of the manicured lawn, his crimson eyes instantly locating the Clan Leader waiting quietly on the elevated veranda.
Yoriichi slightly bowed his head, offering a calm, respectful greeting.
Xiao Zhan nodded in return, his face a carefully constructed mask of patriarchal serenity. He gestured with an open hand, signaling Yoriichi to come up and join him.
Instead of sitting in the formal, rigid hardwood chairs inside the study, Xiao Zhan had laid out two woven mats directly on the polished wooden floor of the veranda, separated by a low, dark-wood tea table. It was an intimate, grounding setting, designed to strip away the harsh hierarchy of the Grand Hall.
They both sat down cross-legged on the floor.
Xiao Zhan picked up a simple clay pitcher and poured cool, clear spring water into two ceramic cups. He pushed one across the table to Yoriichi and took a slow sip from his own, letting the crisp water soothe his dry throat.
"Xiao Ning," Xiao Zhan began, setting his cup down gently. His voice was low, carrying the quiet hum of the cicadas in the garden. "You are a highly perceptive youth. I assume you can guess exactly why I have called you here at this late hour."
Yoriichi picked up his cup. He took a measured drink, the cool water refreshing his slightly parched throat after the intense mental strain in the Pavilion.
He nodded, placing the cup back on the table. "I can understand," Yoriichi replied calmly, his crimson eyes meeting the Patriarch's gaze directly. "It is about the Qi Method I chose, right, Patriarch?"
Xiao Zhan nodded, a flicker of genuine appreciation crossing his tired features. He liked this about the boy. There was no dancing around the issue, no feigned ignorance, and no nonsense. They were going straight to the heart of the matter.
"Yes," Xiao Zhan said, leaning forward slightly, resting his forearms on his knees. "Xiao Ning, you cannot take that scroll. You cannot use it. That parchment is absolutely useless. It is a collection of delusional poems and chaotic theories. That is why no one in the main clan knows about it, and why it was left to rot in a corner."
Yoriichi's expression remained as still as a frozen lake.
"Patriarch," Yoriichi countered smoothly, his tone respectful but entirely unyielding. "You told me in the Grand Hall to choose the method that resonated with my heart and instincts. I chose this one. I assure you, I will not disappoint you. I will make good use of it."
Xiao Zhan's brow twitched. He tried to maintain his patient, reasonable facade.
"Xiao Ning, listen to reason," Xiao Zhan argued, his voice taking on a pleading edge.
"Your foundation is a monstrously dense, pure white cyclone with golden sparks. You need a Xuan Rank method to properly ignite that potential! If you waste your time trying to decipher a rank-less piece of garbage, your cultivation will stagnate. Leave the scroll here on this table. Tomorrow morning, I will personally escort you back to the Pavilion, and we will select the absolute best Fire scroll in our treasury."
"I decline, Patriarch," Yoriichi stated, his voice devoid of arrogance, simply stating a fact. "My path requires this specific foundation."
For several minutes, the midnight air was filled with a tense, quiet debate. Xiao Zhan threw every logical argument he could muster at the youth. He spoke of bottlenecks, of elemental clashes, of the necessity of a stable engine.
But Yoriichi remained entirely stoic and incredibly stubborn, deflecting every argument with calm, unshakeable responses. He was like a boulder sitting in the middle of a raging river; the water rushed around him, but he simply did not move.
Finally, Xiao Zhan rubbed his temples, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. His patience had reached its limit, not out of anger, but out of sheer, terrifying concern.
'He will not drop it unless he understands the true horror of what he is holding,' Xiao Zhan concluded. He decided to let the youth hear the absolute, unvarnished truth. If logic couldn't sway him, perhaps mortal fear would.
Xiao Zhan's aura shifted. The kind, guiding elder vanished, replaced by the grim, burdened Patriarch who held the darkest secrets of his bloodline.
"The Dou Qi Method you took," Xiao Zhan said, his voice dropping to a harsh, chilling whisper, "is not what you think it is, Xiao Ning. It is not entirely a Dou Qi Method... or perhaps it is, but it is also something far, far worse."
Yoriichi tilted his head slightly, a flicker of genuine confusion finally breaking his stoic mask. "Then why is it situated in the Pavilion? If it is not a technique, what is it?"
Xiao Zhan looked out into the dark garden, his eyes distant as he recalled the terrifying tales passed down from his own father.
"That scroll is ancient," Xiao Zhan began slowly. "Much older than anything else in this clan, older than this city itself. It is the cursed legacy of an ancestor."