The morning sun had barely crested over the horizon, but its warm, golden rays filtering through the intricate latticed windows felt oddly cold as they cast a gentle glow upon the cluttered yet meticulously organized room.

Tomes and scrolls were precisely arranged on towering bookshelves, antiquities and artifacts neatly displayed on every surface, and the faint scent of aged parchment and sandalwood incense lingered in the air.

In one corner stood the same plush chaise lounge Ji Wuye remembered so vividly—the ornately carved armrests, deep crimson cushions with lustrous tassels—the very one they had used when discussing how Ji Wuye would pay back the shopkeeper for the herbs back then.

But now, instead of the shopkeeper, a figure sat at the heavy oak table positioned purposefully near the window to catch the morning light.

She was Mu Lan Rou, clad in a flowing white martial robe with dark red stripes that seemed to shimmer like freshly spilled blood in the sunbeams.

Her long raven tresses tumbled over her shoulders like black silk as her haunted crimson eyes looked down, fixated on the warm golden light pooling before her, intensely searching for even the faintest mote of dust hovering suspended in the rays.

Her delicate brows furrowed as she avoided Ji Wuye's penetrating gaze, lips tightening into a taut line as her breathing quickened with evident anxiety.

Then her lithe figure suddenly froze, trembling ever so slightly as the familiar timbre of his voice cut through the heavy silence.

"Please speak, Lady Mu." Ji Wuye spoke the courteous words evenly, but his expression remained indifferent, crimson eyes reflecting not a flicker of emotion as they bored into her.

Seeing the man she once looked up to, excited about every time they met, now regarding her so coldly caused the welled tears in Mu Lan Rou's eyes to spill over in endless rivulets down her porcelain cheeks.

As the first muffled sobs escaped her lips, she reached out imploringly, hands grasping at the space between them as if to physically bridge the divide. But Ji Wuye refused her entreaty, deftly avoiding her grasping fingers.

"I'm sorry, Big Brother Ji!" she cried out, voice wavering with the weight of regret. "I'm so sorry for all of this, for the mockeries, for everything!" Her tone rose, desperation seeping into each ragged breath between words as unrestrained sobs wracked her slender frame.

Yet despite the tears blurring her vision, her glistening crimson eyes remained locked beseechingly on his impassive face.

Yet, aside from Mu Lan Rou's anguished sobs that seemed to reverberate through the very walls, a heavy silence hung in the air. Even as her eyes lowered in despair, tears streaming unchecked down her porcelain cheeks, her cries grew more ragged and pitiful in the face of Ji Wuye's resolute silence.

"C-can we just...start over again?" she finally managed between labored breaths. Trembling hands outstretched, Mu Lan Rou grasped frantically at Ji Wuye's hands, holding them tightly as she gazed up at him with wide, imploring crimson eyes now reddened and swollen from crying.

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This time, Ji Wuye did not withdraw from her touch. He allowed their hands to remain clasped, his calloused fingers encircling the back of her smooth, delicate hands - hands befitting a refined lady of her stature. The intimate contact caused Mu Lan Rou's pupils to dilate with a flicker of shocked hope.

A small, indulgent smile played across Ji Wuye's lips and his eyes crinkled ever so slightly at the corners. "I understand, but please, retain your image as the successor of Kunlun," he replied, voice low and even.

The words landed like a physical blow, causing Mu Lan Rou's entire body to stiffen as if her heart had been pierced by a thousand invisible jians. The pain was excruciating, more brutal than any flesh wound.

That fake smile, that artificial concern crinkling his eyes - she knew him too well, had known him too long as her closest friend since childhood. Seeing him regard her with such blatant deception was utterly soul-crushing, stealing what little breath remained in her lungs.

Under her frozen stare, paralyzed by the agony lancing through her very core and rendering her temporarily mute, Ji Wuye smoothly disentangled his hands from her trembling grasp.

He rose from the table, turning his back to leave her there alone as he prepared to descend to the first floor.

"After all, as the successor of Kunlun, there will be many candidates who will propose to you," he stated matter-of-factly over his shoulder before disappearing down the stairs, his final parting words reverberating hollowly.

The pain was overwhelming, a physical ache in her chest as she clutched at her robe, struggling to draw full breaths. No more tears would come, her eyes dry and burning from the flood of anguish that had already poured forth.

Instead, Mu Lan Rou could only sit there, chest heaving as she gulped down ragged mouthfuls of air in a desperate attempt to calm her ragged breathing. "I-it... h-hu-..."

…

Meanwhile, as Mu Lan Rou's muffled sobs echoed from the floor above, Ji Wuye descended the creaking stairs, guided by the lanky shopkeeper who kept glancing back at him with an inscrutable expression. They walked in silence until reaching a particular room, distinctly separate from the storeroom basement.

This chamber was a modest cubic space, sparsely furnished with just two plain wooden chairs and a heavy counter table between them.

Floor-to-ceiling cabinets lined each wall, their shelves laden with neatly stacked scrolls and parchments. The floorboards were scuffed but clean, and the only illumination came from a large iron chandelier overhead and rows of flickering candles embedded within alcoves.

"Welcome, welcome Young Master!" The familiar shopkeeper, a stout middle-aged man with a curved salt-and-pepper beard and deep-set eyes, beamed widely upon Ji Wuye's arrival, ushering him inside with an elaborate flourish of his hands.

Ji Wuye took the indicated seat across the counter while the shopkeeper busied himself making notations in a large leather-bound ledger, his lanky assistant scurrying back and forth with pouches overflowing with clinking coins.

"Please, wait just a moment, Young Master," the shopkeeper said by way of apology, making a placating gesture. In the next instant, a tray bearing a steaming pot of fragrant tea and delicate porcelain cups materialized before Ji Wuye.

"No problem at all," Ji Wuye replied evenly, helping himself to the proffered drink as his crimson eyes roamed idly over the room's austere decor.

...

Several moments passed in companionable silence as the shopkeeper finalized tallying whatever accounts were before him.

Finally, he looked up with a gracious smile, sliding an overstuffed leather pouch across the counter toward Ji Wuye. "Thank you for your patience, Young Master. Here is the return from our deal - a total of ten guàn, equal to ten thousand qián."

Despite the staggering sum changing hands, not a flicker of greed or regret crossed the shopkeeper's deeply lined face as Ji Wuye met his calm gaze appraisingly.

"A big success indeed," the shop keeper chuckled, leaning back with evident satisfaction.

Ji Wuye accepted the weighty pouch, gauging its heft while another identical one appeared before him on the counter's scuffed surface. "Each of these pouches contains one guàn," the shopkeeper explained patiently as nine more joined the first two, soon covering the entirety of the broad counter with bulging sacks of cash coins.

Ji Wuye methodically began transferring each heavy leather pouch into his inventory, stowing them away one by one until only two remained on the counter's surface.

This peculiar action drew a confused, almost awestruck look from the lanky assistant, whose mouth had fallen agape and remained hanging open shamelessly throughout the entire proceeding. Even the shopkeeper raised an inquisitive brow.

Rather than explain, Ji Wuye simply withdrew a tightly furled scroll from his voluminous sleeve and proffered it across the counter. The shopkeeper accepted it gingerly at first, brow furrowing as he unrolled and scanned the densely scripted contents. Then understanding dawned in his eyes.

"Ah, I see! The Young Master wishes to place another order for a fresh batch of herbal supplies!" he exclaimed with a knowing smile, as if Ji Wuye had just confirmed some private conjecture of his. He passed the scroll to his assistant with a curt nod.

However, Ji Wuye was not yet finished. Folding his hands before him, he leveled the shopkeeper with an inscrutable look as his deep crimson eyes bored into the shop keeper's. "Not only that," he stated evenly.

“At the day of the gathering…

“I want…

“You need to…

“Prepare for me…”

As the vague request hovered between them, the shopkeeper's expression turned utterly solemn.