Han Yu almost smiled. Almost.
'She really is too young.'
He folded his arms inside his sleeves. "You do not know what happened to my clan a few years ago?"
Qing Luan hesitated. "How many years ago? I never paid attention to clan affairs. I have been cultivating and studying since before I turned twelve. Information reached me slowly unless my mother brought it."
Han Yu finally understood.
It was not ignorance. It was isolation. She had been sheltered, kept indoors, trained, and fed only what she needed to know. Cultivation, etiquette, a few scholarly arts. Nothing else.
She was a treasured piece of the clan, a little jewel meant to shine during ceremonies but not meant to know the mud beneath the surface.
Han Yu exhaled softly.
"The Ju Clan was destroyed five years ago."
Qing Luan's eyes widened even further.
She turned sharply toward the small window by the driver's seat and slid it open.
"Uncle Yun. Did something like that really happen? Was the Ju Clan destroyed?"
