Chapter 26: Luo Yunlan’s Investigation Results

At the same time—

Deep within the Luo residence, in a hidden chamber.

Luo Yunlan sat before a desk piled high with papers, a scroll clenched tightly in her hand, her gaze shadowed and heavy.

“The Li family… so it really is you.”

Her knuckles whitened. The scroll warped under her grip.

She had not accompanied Luo Jiutian into the Azure Cloud Secret Realm for one reason only: to remain behind and uncover the truth of that bloody ambush on the snowfield in her past life—who the true culprit was, and who had orchestrated it all from the shadows.

Every thread she pursued, every clue she dug up… all pointed toward one place.

The Li family.

Her breath grew unsteady as she stared at the other documents strewn across the desk. The emotions she had long locked away clawed upward, threatening to break free.

Her mind replayed that scene from her last life.

Luo Jiutian lay dying in her arms. He said but a single sentence—words that shattered her heart—yet his eyes still held a faint, gentle smile.

On countless nights thereafter, she woke screaming from that memory.

The white of snow. The crimson of blood. And those eyes—still tender, still filled with her—until the very last breath.

The memory would not fade. It gnawed at her, like a blunt knife sawing at her heart, over and over again.

And now, the murderer’s face had finally emerged. The fury she had suppressed for so long surged to the surface.

Luo Yunlan rose to her feet, voice sharp with unmasked killing intent:

“Go to the Li family. Kill them all.”

But just as her foot crossed the threshold, she stopped.

“Don’t be reckless,” she muttered.

Her head turned, eyes sharp as blades.
“They killed Xiaotian. And you still want to hold back?”

“I know. But this is more complicated than you think.”

Her steps faltered. A flicker of hesitation crossed her eyes. “Complicated? How so?”

Luo Yunlan returned to the desk and picked up a page from the top of the pile.

“Look here,” she said, voice low and even. “If I hadn’t pored over these records, I never would have noticed this detail.”

Her gaze swept across the notes as she held up the sheet.

“These past few years, members of the Li clan have kept disappearing. Some vanish during missions, their whereabouts unknown. Some are sent to bizarre, remote places, never to return. A few—were erased entirely from the records.

And the strangest part? The Li family never investigated. They didn’t even issue missing-person notices, as though those who vanished were utterly insignificant.”

She placed the paper down, then pointed at another.

“And from that exact time onward, the cultivation of the Li family’s core members began to soar, almost without pause.

Especially their patriarch. In just three months, he advanced from the early to the late Nascent Soul stage. Far too fast.

Bear in mind—of the four great patriarchs, his talent was the weakest. Even our father, Luo Changqing, whose aptitude is leagues higher, spent over twenty years to break through from early to mid Nascent Soul. And that was with resources aiding him.”

“You mean… they’ve been using some unspeakable method to cultivate?”

“I can’t be certain,” Luo Yunlan whispered. “But when you place these ‘disappearances’ beside their sudden ‘breakthroughs,’ it’s hard to believe the two aren’t connected.

And as far as I know, the Li’s themselves do not possess such a method. Which means—some other force may be at work behind them.”

Her voice fell lower. “Of course, this is still speculation. But if there truly is a hidden power, one that can shatter bottlenecks and raise realms in exchange for some kind of ‘price’… then those who disappeared may very well have been that ‘price.’”

“You’ve discovered something, haven’t you?”

Luo Yunlan did not answer. Her eyes lingered on another stack of papers.

At length, she said quietly: “I suspect… that ambush in the snowfield wasn’t solely orchestrated by the Li family.”

She paused, then continued:

“Our mission back then was a closely guarded Luo clan secret. Only core members knew. For the Li’s to have laid in wait ahead of time, they must either have obtained our movements through some leak… or someone inside our family guided them.”

“You mean—the Luo clan itself isn’t clean?”

She gave the faintest of nods, her fingers absently rubbing the paper’s edge.

“If no one from within cooperated, the Li’s could never have tracked our whereabouts so precisely.”

Her tone dropped further. “But even beyond that… the Li’s are cautious by nature. And yet, at that time, they struck with abnormal decisiveness—as though carrying out an order already given.”

“The entire affair feels… orchestrated. As though someone arranged every piece on the board. If such a hand exists, if the Li family truly serves some hidden power… then that is what we must truly fear.”

Luo Yunlan exhaled slowly.

“That is why I told you not to be rash. Yes, with your strength you could annihilate the Li family overnight. But if there truly is someone behind them, they would immediately cut ties, sever the trail, and retreat into the dark. After that, finding them again would be near impossible.”

Her fist clenched tight.

“What I want… is to catch them all in one net. The real mastermind, the traitor in our midst, the Li’s themselves—none will escape.”

Her words fell into silence.

After a long moment, her fingers loosened. She drew a long, steadying breath, hiding every ripple of emotion deep inside once more.

Smoothing her sleeves, she crossed the chamber to stand before a bronze mirror.

The surface was blurred, but enough to reflect her solitary figure.

She stared at her own image for a long time.

And then—scarlet welled up in her eyes, spreading slowly across her gaze.

Bowing her head, she unclasped her hairpin. Her fingers slid gently through her dark hair as she whispered, almost tenderly:

“Not long now. Soon… I’ll see Xiaotian again.”

Her arms folded around herself, holding tight. She shut her eyes, recalling the warmth of the last embrace, her fingertips trembling. Her lips curved into a strange smile as her breathing quickened.

“Just once more… even once would be enough…” she murmured.

“I want to feel his breath again. I want to draw closer… closer still… perhaps this time…”

But before she could finish, the reflection in the mirror narrowed its eyes.

“Compose yourself.”

Luo Yunlan blinked—then broke into a laugh, brighter, wilder.

“I was only speaking idly.”

“You and I both know whether it’s idle talk,” the reflection cut in coldly. “Keep on like this, and you’ll frighten Xiaotian away one day.”

She snorted at the mirror, chin tilted proudly, eyes full of disdain.

“And you’re any better? Aren’t you the one who gets most excited every time you see him?”

“Don’t spout nonsense. At least I know restraint. I don’t fling myself at him the moment he appears.”

“Tch. Hypocrite. You’re just as bad. A proper young lady on the surface, but your heart’s full of messy little thoughts.” She tapped a fingernail against the mirror’s frame, muttering under her breath.

“Shut up.”

“I won’t.” She laughed softly. “You call yourself reserved? Then tell me—why were your eyes glued to his lips last time you saw him?”

“I was… observing his emotional response.”

“Of course, of course. Whatever you say.”

Their voices overlapped, back and forth, echoing around the chamber like a quarrel between two different people.

But in truth—

Inside that secret room, there was only one.

Luo Yunlan.