The room hummed with tension as if the very air is holding its breath. Yip Lixin lay slouched on the edge of an ornate, velvet-cushioned couch, his eyes bright and watchful despite his languid pose. Across the room, Yip Quinfan loomed behind a jade desk, a silent sentinel to the memory of the Lin Patriarch. The elder Yips sat stiffly, their backs rigid with unease, silently absorbing the gravity of the unfolding scenario. They watched their offspring, young men imbued with a dangerous charm, resembling lion cubs playfully testing their claws.

The crackling silence shattered as Lixin voiced the question which was at the forefront of everyone's minds. "So, we're in the clear?" His tone, though casual, rippled with an undercurrent of intensity.

Quinfan, stoic as a cliff face, nodded. "We've made sure our backs were covered. No more Lin kin in this corner of the world. The rest are back home in Qilin and at their clan headquarters." His voice is an unvarnished fact, cool and clear.

Lixin leaned forward, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "And so, the Lin land awaits its new lord. We just need to wipe the slate clean of their debts." The Yip Patriarch, like a coiled spring, leapt to his feet at the prospect of using his carefully squirrelled dowry to seize this land of opportunity. Lixin, however, chuckled softly, defusing the patriarch's impatience.

"Relax, Grandpa. We've settled the accounts. That is why we were late to the party." His words send ripples across the room, catching the patriarch off guard.

Stunned silence followed. "How?" The patriarch's single-word question dangled in the room, unanswered for a breathless moment. Then Lixin smirked, tapping his chest with a hint of arrogance.

"We have our perks as the favoured disciples of the Rising Sun sect. Their treasures...they are ours to use." As this revelation sinks in, the patriarch's eyes gleam with a potent mix of shock and greed, the future suddenly blazing brighter. Lixin’s affirmation sent the patriarch into a tailspin of joy, and for a moment, the room vibrated with his unadulterated pride. But their father's frown lingered, a dark cloud on the horizon.

“Then all that has transpired was a charade?” His question, hesitant and laced with dread, reverberates in the room. The room hung suspended in silence.

“What about the young Lin girl? Was what you said about her true?" their father inquired further. His face contained a trace of horror at how calculated these boys had become.

For a brief moment, Yip Lixin's smile faltered. His brow furrowed, hands held out as if juggling the truth and a well-crafted lie. "I'm certain that given the opportunity, she would have succumbed to infidelity. In fact, after our battle, she approached me intending to forge a romantic connection. She made certain... insinuations. I'm sure of it," Lixin revealed with a bit of uncertainty.

"It doesn't matter if the truth was spoken. Sometimes, when clearing out a rat's nest, one needs to use poisonous words," Quinfan interjected decisively, emphasising the calculated tactics employed. A pregnant pause ensued, the two patriarchs in the room digesting the information.

The Yip patriarch broke into a cacophony of laughter. "Bravo, my boys! You've truly ascended the Yip name. This old soul can now find peace," he said, beaming at his grandsons. Yet, in the corners of Yip Bin's eyes, the shadows of unease danced.

"We have merely fulfilled our duty," Quinfan finally spoke up after his prolonged silence, his gaze fixed on the patriarch with measured contemplation.

"Grandfather, we have indeed laid the foundation for a new root. It will be a root imbued with strength, with no room for weakness. There is no place for Chor in the new root," Quinfan stated with unwavering resolve.

Yip Bin instinctively resisted his son's words, a reflexive defence of his firstborn son on his lips, but he knew there was little he could say. It was true that in this new root, they had played a role in its inception by merit of being the twin’s progenitors, but Yip Chor had played no part in its conception. Therefore, he would need to be grafted onto the strength of his younger brothers.

The Yip Patriarch nodded in understanding. "In this world, only the strong survive. Chor'er lacks strength, and he would only drain your resources. The decision rests with you. I will assign him the merchant business and leave his fate to god."

"No. The merchant business will be liquidated and the resources utilized to support this new root. We are aligned in our understanding of the Dao, and wastage of resources is unacceptable," Quinfan asserted firmly.

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Yip Bin shook his head vehemently, his disapproval evident. The merchant business represented his inheritance, something he had invested heavily in, and regardless of his faults, it was also Chor's inheritance as the firstborn son.

“This is permissible. Son, do you agree?” The patriarch enquired as a matter of courtesy… ultimately, the decision rested with him.

“Absolutely not father! I am aligned with supporting this new root, but what of Chor’er, are we to cast him out into the cold with only the clothes on his back?”

Yip Bin's words hung heavy in the room, the depth of his anguish clear to everyone present. It was a striking reminder of the emotional stakes involved in the choices being made. The eldest brother, the rightful heir to the Yip family, was being cast aside it seemed.

Quinfan sat in silence, absorbing the full weight of his father's objection, the disappointment in his voice. He looked not at his father, but at the elder patriarch. Slowly, he rose from his chair, and a new atmosphere seemed to descend upon the room. He moved with quiet grace, an aura of command and resolution that silenced the murmurs of disagreement. His words, when they came, were delivered with a calm precision that belied the enormity of their impact.

"Grandfather," he began, his voice low, respectful, and incredibly persuasive, "this is not a decision made lightly. The strength of the Yip family must prevail. Weakness has no place in our lineage. I do not take pleasure in ousting Chor. He is my brother. But our survival demands it."

He let the words hang in the air for a moment, a respectful pause to let the patriarch absorb the gravity of his argument. The elder man's eyes were on Quinfan, studying him as if seeing him in a new light. The grandson he had raised was speaking as a leader, making a decision that would shape their family's destiny.

"It is not merely about strength, Grandfather," Quinfan continued, sensing the need for further explanation. "It is about loyalty, dedication, and determination. It is about carving a path where the Yip family stands strong, unyielding, and united in the face of adversity. Chor's absence in our efforts, his disinterest, is a betrayal of our family's legacy."

The room was silent, the family members ensnared by Quinfan's conviction. He carried a dark charisma, the sort that compelled people to follow him. It was a dangerous charisma, one that made him sound reasonable, even when he spoke of harsh measures. His words were like venom, coated in honey, delivered with a soothing rhythm that lulled you into acceptance.

Yip Bin stared at his son, his emotions a swirl of conflict and confusion. He watched as Quinfan addressed the patriarch, the way the old man's eyes reflected a mixture of fascination and admiration. It was evident that Quinfan was slowly, but surely, swaying the patriarch's opinion.

At that moment, Bin understood the perilous allure of Quinfan's charisma, the power he wielded over the room. It was as though he were witnessing the rise of a new leader within the Yip family, one who was prepared to upend centuries-old traditions for what he believed was the greater good. He also realized that once the patriarch was swayed, there would be no reversing this decision.

“Father, it is Chor’er, he has always tried his best. For my sake, please.” Yip Bin said in almost a whisper, seeing the look on his father's face as he came to his decision.

With an ironclad declaration, the Yip Patriarch's voice resounded through the room, "It is decided!" His words struck Yip Bin like a forceful gale, causing him to rise and protest, "Father!" His outcry was met with a roar that shook the chamber, "Sit down, my decision is final!" Powerless against his father's absolute decree, Bin had no choice but to obey, deflating back into his seat.

As this exchange unfolded, Lixin shifted from his casual demeanour, a subtle change in his posture revealing a hint of internal conflict. He slid back into his chair, gaze falling to the opulent carpet beneath them. His relaxed grin gave way to pursed lips, suggesting a divergence from Quinfan's stark resolution.

Quinfan, with his demeanour untouched by the room's rising tension, declared, "So let it be written, so let it be done. Chor will vacate our lands by dusk or be tried for trespassing. He will carry naught but his name, bereft even of his garments." His words were like an edict etched into stone, leaving no room for debate.

"Quinfan, now you cross the line!" Yip Bin rose once more, his countenance awash with a tempest of anger and disbelief. He implored his father for support but found no refuge in the Patriarch's stony silence. His gaze was fixed upon Quinfan, who, amidst the maelstrom, stood unflinching and cold. As a heavy sigh escaped the patriarch's lips, he found the words to voice his bewilderment. "Why, Quinfan? He is your blood."

Quinfan's response was immediate, his brow furrowing further as he countered, "That is the very reason. This is not personal; it is the Dao's demand. I will not nourish weakness... if it impedes my path, I will remove it. Hence, Yip Chor must leave everything behind."

An unsettling hush fell upon the room, Quinfan's decree reverberating off the walls. His unveiled determination unmasked the depth of his transformation, casting a shadow over the hearts of those present.

The Patriarch responded, his voice carrying a blend of concern and resignation, "You tread a lonely path, Quinfan. One fraught with hardship. I hope that in your quest for your Dao, you do not lose sight of your soul. I shall lend my support to your pursuit."

This pledge echoed throughout the room, signifying the patriarch's recognition of the irreversible paths his grandsons had embarked upon.

Struggling to reconcile the implications, Yip Bin glanced between his father and Quinfan, his gaze hinting at a simmering pool of disappointment and sorrow. He had no choice but to accept his father's edict, but in his mind, he was already thinking about how much property he could liquidate to pass to his son Chor’er.

"Hmm, it appears dusk will soon be upon us," Quinfan remarked casually, his fingers lazily sifting through the paperwork on his desk.

Yip Bin took the hint and stormed out of the room.