Several years in the future...
The Elder’s Hall stood silent, bathed in a dim golden glow from the afternoon sun filtering through its stained glass. The wide hall was filled with a gentle, solemn aura—peaceful, yet tinged with something melancholic.
At the center, behind a carved desk of pale sandalwood, sat a man writing slowly in a thick leather-bound book. His long blonde hair, usually tied behind his back during formal appearances, was neatly combed and let down, cascading like a river of gold over his shoulders.
He wore a plain gray robe, unadorned, simple, yet elegant. His build was tall, not muscular, but lean and refined, like a scholar who practiced swordsmanship in private.
His face looked as if he was in his thirties or early forties, with handsome, symmetrical features, and a faint, serene smile that made others feel at ease. Yet behind that calm exterior, his eyes, that were normally so composed, were now dull and heavy, clouded with unspoken regret.
The quill in his hand came to a stop, leaving the last few words inked in deep black.
He stared at them for a long time.
The page read:
‘I don't know when it started. Were there hints? Could I have helped? If I had not been so preoccupied with the oracle... if I had only believed in her more than those divine revelations...’
‘...Would my loving granddaughter still be with us?’
‘When did she start to alienate us, her bonds, her family? ‘
‘Like hands reaching out to her soul, our bonds could never grasp her. And she never let them.’
(Pic attached)
‘Did it start the day I was angry at her? The day I grounded her to the Elder’s Hall for disobedience, for questioning the Ancestor God?’
‘But all it did was make her colder.’
‘And because of that, I may have lost my granddaughter forever.’
Qian Daoliu leaned back slightly and looked out the large arched window. The golden sunlight reflected in his eyes, but it did not reach his heart.
A soft sigh escaped his lips.
"If only I had spoken to you that day..., not as the Grand Priest, but as your grandfather..."
There was no answer in the golden light.
Only silence.
And the gentle turning of pages in a book that no one else would ever read.
He closed the book slowly, the soft thump of parchment on wood echoing through the empty hall.
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Back to present time.....
The morning sunlight filtered gently through the swaying leaves, cascading like playful elves. Soft beams slipped in through the large arched windows of the Elder’s Hall, casting a warm glow on the sleeping figure in the room.
The golden light danced across her face, stubbornly persistent.
With a groan, the girl on the bed raised a delicate hand to cover her eyes, trying to shoo away the sunlight that refused to let her rest.
But the sunlight was like an elf, who had already done its job.
Qian Renxue opened her eyes slowly, their usual sharp glint dulled with leftover fatigue. She turned her gaze toward the window and squinted at the glowing orb rising over Spirit City.
‘Did I… sleep for an entire day?’
She pushed herself up, frowning slightly.
Yesterday came back to her in fragments.
The stress of the encounter with the Reincarnator, the system, and the threat he posed… To gather the truth, she had pushed the Telepathist ability to its limit. She remembered the pounding in her head, the nausea, and the haunting whispers that crept through her thoughts before she finally collapsed into bed.
She touched her forehead, now cool and calm.
‘I overused it. I must remember… Beyonder abilities aren’t free.’
‘I can’t afford to collapse in front of real enemies.’
Stretching her arms, Qian Renxue let out a small sigh and slipped off the bed. She needed to freshen up.
“Wu Meng.”
Her voice was soft but commanding.
A few breaths later, her loyal maid entered and bowed.
“Yes, Young Master?”
“Bring me ice water. I want to wash my face.”
In no time, Wu Meng returned, carrying a beautifully carved ice basin. Qian Renxue dipped her hands into the cold water and brought it to her face.
The chill jolted her awake more than she expected.
But before she could dry her face, she noticed something, another presence in the room.
Her eyes narrowed instinctively, only to soften a moment later.
It was a tall man standing silently near the window.
Blonde hair tied loosely, his simple gray robes making him look almost like a hermit. His expression was calm, but there was an unmistakable sadness in his eyes.
Her grandfather , Qian Daoliu was standing there.
He hadn’t spoken a word yet. He was just... watching her.
And in his gaze, there was something deeper than simple worry.
Indeed, Qian Daoliu’s heart was full of guilt as he looked at the girl he had raised.
"She met her mother again yesterday... yet there was no warmth in that reunion."
"Is it my fault? Is the distance between them also my sin, passed on from my failure to guide Xunji?"’
‘Is it truly too late? Does the retribution of my son’s sins echo into the next generation stop?’
He opened his mouth, trying to say something profound.
But all the pain, the regret, the helplessness... clogged his throat.
In the end, he could only say softly.
“Xue’er… Grandpa is here.”
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