Ru Feng was momentarily stunned but eventually took the bowl and drank it all in one go, feeling her nose tingle.
The night was deep.
Suddenly, Ru Feng opened her eyes, listening carefully before turning over.
In the darkness, a slender figure passed by.
“Who?” Cang Shan awoke from his sleep and looked towards the door.
The door opened, and a figure entered. “Grand Elder, you’re quite alert. I’ve just reached the doorway.”
The light turned on, and Cang Shan’s mouth twitched. Someone had entered his bedroom and mentioned alertness – he wasn’t sure if this was a compliment or sarcasm. His gaze swept over Ru Feng, “Did you come in by yourself?”
Ru Feng responded casually, “Isn’t that formation recorded in the book pavilion?”
Cang Shan’s gaze flickered but he said nothing.”
Ru Feng stood and bowed respectfully, “Grand Elder, thank you.”
In recent days, she realized that the contest was a test of her abilities and will. The books in the pavilion changed order daily, with topics such as clan history, current clan situation, and the Situ family’s curse that she was most concerned about.
Unfortunately, there were no records of the curse her second brother used, likely because this life-exchanging method was forbidden by the Situ family and lacked inheritance.
“Grand Elder, are there no other records? How could my second brother have learned it?” Ru Feng knew that each book in the pavilion was carefully curated by past clan leaders, and while obtaining one would be beneficial, it wasn’t her heart’s desire.
Cang Shan’s brow furrowed slightly, “That book is the most complete record in the pavilion.”
Silence enveloped the room, and disappointment spread across Ru Feng’s face. Would her second brother suffer this burning pain his entire life?
Recalling the delicate and translucent man, Ru Feng had a ripple in her eyes. She knew Situ Qiwu resembled Ning Yuan when they first met—gentle, honest, and modest. However, she smiled faintly, “I know Qiwu is unparalleled, and I don’t want to delay her because of me. As time passes, our feelings will only deepen.”
Ru Feng stood up as Cang Shan closed his eyes.
After a few steps, Ru Feng suddenly asked, “How did you determine I would be the destined clan leader, especially regarding this rebirth?”
Cang Shan replied, “The second floor of the book pavilion holds the Five Elements and Eight Trigrams, which are spiritually significant. Cang Tian excels in divination.”
“What about the third floor?” Ru Feng inquired.
“Layers of mechanisms prevent entry; we’ve never succeeded.”
“There must be a map, right?” she pressed.
“The mechanism array map is lost. Cang Shan tried to break through once, but only made it halfway before retreating.”
Ru Feng remained silent, then opened the door to leave.
“Situ Ru Feng, that book pavilion cannot be entered rashly,” warned Cang Shan.
Ru Feng laughed, not looking back. “Are there prohibitions?”
Cang Shan chuckled too, a bright light in his half-closed eyes. “I’m afraid you’ll get hurt.”
Ru Feng paused, said nothing more, and left.
Cang Shan sat on the bed for a long time until the sky brightened, then lay down again.
Ru Feng returned to her room but couldn’t sleep. A man in thin clothing stood blankly at the door, eyes red.
Ru Feng approached, puzzled, “Didn’t you go to sleep? Why are you here?”
Situ Qiwu stared at her silently, as if still dreaming.
“Qiwu, what’s wrong…” Before she could finish, he opened his arms to embrace her. Ru Feng blocked him with both hands, and he swayed and fell backward.
Ru Feng quickly supported him; he felt ice-cold to the touch. Anxious and angry, she scolded, “How can you wander around without proper clothing in the cold? Do you think you’re some immortal?”
Qiwu’s lips were blue from the cold; he tried to speak but struggled.
Ru Feng helped him into the room, and he hugged her tightly, burying his head in her shoulder.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Ru Feng said, feeling the weight on her shoulder. “Don’t you know you’re heavy?”
Situ Qiwu held her firmly, his cold seeping through her clothes.
Ru Feng was about to say more when she noticed dampness at her neck and heard a brief gasp.
She sighed inwardly and did not push him away, her hands falling at her sides.
“I thought you had left,” he said after a long pause.
“Actually, I didn’t cry,” he replied, his eyes still red as he attempted a smile.
“Mm!” Ru Feng responded.
Situ Qiwu then grabbed her hand. “I know no woman likes a man’s tears. I won’t cry again. I was just scared, thinking you had left secretly in the night.”
“I didn’t.”
“I dreamed it; thankfully, it was just a dream.”
Ru Feng remained silent. If not for Elder Cang Shan’s last words, she would have left secretly while he was away. Unable to bear his expectations, she had considered leaving without saying goodbye.
Situ Qiwu looked at her persistently, tightening his grip.
Ru Feng lowered her head and withdrew her hand from his grasp. “I will remember to say goodbye to you.”
In the following days, Ru Feng stayed in the book pavilion. This time, Cang Shan did not delay her, perhaps moved by their conversation or understanding her lack of feelings for Situ Qiwu. He gave her the pavilion’s book catalog, allowing her to immerse herself.
Ru Feng would enter after breakfast, and at noon, Situ Qiwu prepared food and left it at her door. Sometimes, she would forget the time, and he would knock until she couldn’t bear it anymore and rushed to open the door.
He ignored her angry eyes, grinning, “What do you want for dinner?”
“Whatever!” She faced his smile, unable to stay angry, dismissed him with two words, took the meal inside, and closed the door.
“Eat quickly; I’ll come to collect the bowl later.”
With no response, he continued knocking, “I’ll come to collect it in half an hour.”
Ru Feng would eat within the specified time.
After several days, despite her focus on reading, Ru Feng maintained a regular three-meal routine.
She reorganized related books and confirmed there was no additional information.
One day, she stepped onto the second floor, which was empty except for a square table in the center.
Approaching the table, she noticed divination tools, which gave an ancient, mysterious feeling.
Picking one up briefly, she remarked, “Human destiny changes constantly; how can there be any fixed fate?”
Looking around, she found no stairs to the third floor. Frowning, she carefully examined the walls.
Recalling mechanisms seen on TV, Feng lay against the wall and knocked around, but couldn’t hear any hollow sounds. Pouting, she thought, “Isn’t this how they always do it in TV shows? Aren’t mechanisms supposed to reveal themselves when you knock?” She shook her sore hand, but heard nothing unusual.
Turning her gaze, she stared at the divination tortoise shell on the table. This room was too empty to imagine finding a secret passage.
Walking back to the table, she knocked on it, squatted down, and checked underneath, confirming it was just an ordinary table.
So, only these tortoise shells were left.
She stared for a while, then smiled, picking up the shell and sliding it across the table, following the Eight Trigrams diagram’s path.
After completing the drawing, the table lowered, and Feng looked up to see a ladder extending from above, leading upstairs.
She had wondered why the tortoise shell, used for divination, was so worn at the edges. It turned out to be the key. However, the keyhole was quite complicated.
Previously, she found it strange that the inherited book catalog didn’t prioritize clan history or teachings but placed an Eight Trigrams diagram first, sorted alphabetically after. Now, she understood its significance.
