The silence between Nangong Qing'er and Ji Xuan was as thick and heavy as they left the building.
They walked side-by-side through the bustling academy pathways, a picture-perfect pair of noble young masters and misses, but an invisible chasm of unspoken thoughts lay between them.
Soon, they found themselves on a secluded path that wound its way towards the prestigious Lakeheart District, where both their residences were located.
Nangong Qing'er was the first to break the silence. Her voice, which had been dripping with honeyed concern moments ago, was now low and flat, devoid of any warmth.
"It's strange."
Ji Xuan did not look at her, his gaze fixed on the path ahead, his hands still clasped behind his back. His profile was calm, almost bored. "What is?"
"His injury," she said, a faint frown marring her flawless brow. "It's far too light. When I grabbed his arm, I checked his pulse and meridians. There's some internal shaking from the blast, a few superficial cuts, and that's it. The energy backlash from a cauldron explosion powerful enough to cause that level of destruction... it should have shattered his dantian, if not killed him outright."
She finally turned her head to look at him, her eyes sharp and analytical, a stark contrast to her earlier wide-eyed worry. "The result is not what we... what you promised."
Ji Xuan's steps did not falter. His expression remained one of aloof indifference, as if they were discussing the weather and not a failed assassination.
"Perhaps the trash is luckier than he looks," he replied, his tone dismissive. "A sliver of luck at the last moment, a slightly weaker mixture, a flawed cauldron... there are many variables. It seems getting rid of him will have to be postponed for the time being."
Nangong Qing'er's lips tightened almost imperceptibly. "Postponed? Ji Xuan, this isn't a game. That little fool might be clueless, but do not forget who his elder brother is."
The mention of that name seemed to finally stir a reaction. Ji Xuan's jaw tightened slightly. A shadow, quick as a passing cloud, flickered in the depths of his cold eyes.
"Lin Feng," Nangong Qing'er continued, her voice dropping even further, laced with a rare hint of genuine apprehension. "If that madman gets even a whiff that someone is targeting his precious younger brother, he will tear the entire Fortune City apart to find the culprit. And when he does, neither your Ji Clan nor my Nangong Clan will be able to shield us. We will not be able to escape his wrath."
The image of Lin Yun's elder brother, Lin Feng, was a terrifying one in the minds of the younger generation. A peerless genius, ruthless, overprotective to a fault, and possessing a cultivation level that was already the stuff of legends.
He was the Lin Clan's true hope, a looming specter that ensured no one dared to openly bully Lin Yun, despite his mediocrity.
Ji Xuan finally stopped walking, turning to face her fully. The setting sun cast long shadows across his handsome face, making his expression seem even more unreadable.
"Qing'er," he said, his voice still calm, but now carrying a subtle, icy edge. "Don't worry. I told you, I have taken care of everything. The evidence is now completely gone. Those masters will see only failure, not foul play. Even if Lin Canghai himself were to come and investigate, he would find nothing."
He took a small step closer, his gaze intense. "There is no connection to me. There is no connection to you. The only thing that remains is a useless young master who had a lucky, albeit embarrassing, escape. So, relax your pretty little head."
Nangong Qing'er met his gaze for a long moment, her own eyes searching his for any sign of doubt or deception. Finding none, she let out a soft, disdainful breath through her nose.
She curled her lips into a faint, mocking smile. "I hope so. For your sake. My involvement begins and ends with providing the opportunity and the distraction. The method and its failure... that is your responsibility, Young Master Ji."
With that, she turned away from him, her blue robes swirling around her. Without another word or backward glance, she walked gracefully down the path that branched off towards her own luxurious courtyard, leaving Ji Xuan standing alone.
He did not call after her. He simply stood there, watching her retreating figure until she disappeared behind a grove of shimmering spirit bamboo.
The moment she was out of sight, the calm, indifferent mask on Ji Xuan's face shattered.
His eyes narrowed into dangerous slits, his handsome features twisting into a grimace of cold fury and deep contemplation. The placid lake of his demeanor now churned with dark undercurrents.
Lucky? he thought, the word tasting like ash in his mouth. How could he be so lucky? The dosage was perfect. The reaction should have been instantaneous and fatal.
His mind raced, replaying the scene in the alchemy room. Lin Yun's posture, his voice, the way he had subtly avoided Nangong Qing'er's touch. There was a... difference about him. A faint shift in demeanor that Ji Xuan couldn't quite place. It wasn't the cowering, perpetually nervous boy he was used to.
Nangong Qing'er's warning about Lin Feng echoed in his mind, a cold trickle of fear that he quickly suppressed with anger. He was Ji Xuan. He did not fear anyone.
But she was right about one thing. The Lin Clan, especially with Lin Feng in the picture, was not an enemy to be provoked lightly. This operation needed to be flawless, and its failure was a significant setback.
A new, more sinister thought began to form. If a direct accident was too risky, perhaps a more indirect approach was needed. Something that would break Lin Yun completely, drive him out of the academy in disgrace, and make him a pariah even to his own clan, all without a single traceable finger pointing back to him.
A slow, cold smile returned to Ji Xuan's lips, devoid of any warmth. The game had just become more interesting.
Lin Yun had survived the first move. He wouldn't survive the next…