Uncle Quan silently exited the room. The door closed soundlessly behind him, sealing the Go board with its single stone within. He walked through the quiet, winding corridor, his pace as steady as ever, but if one were to look closely, they would see that tempestuous waves were churning in the depths of his usually placid eyes.
The Young Master had changed.
This was not merely a change in temperament after walking through the gates of life and death. That gaze, that tone which seemed plain yet could see through the entire situation, and that astounding move of placing the first stone on Tianyuan, all revealed a profundity and sophistication that a 15-year-old boy should not possess. It wasn't like an injured young lion licking its wounds, but rather like a colossal dragon that had slumbered for a thousand years, and upon awakening, slowly opened its eyes to gaze down indifferently upon all living beings.
The number of guards along the way was nearly double that of previous days. Their hands rested on their sword hilts, their knuckles slightly white. The air was thick with the tense atmosphere of a storm about to break. Even the servants' footsteps had become much lighter, as if afraid of disturbing the fury that could detonate at any moment within this oppressive mansion.
Uncle Quan walked straight ahead without a sideways glance, arriving at the study in the deepest part of the residence. Two guards with long, steady breaths stood watch at the entrance like door gods. Seeing him approach, they merely nodded slightly and stepped aside to let him pass.
Inside the study, sandalwood smoke curled. A man in an ebony brocade robe, with a gaunt face and a natural air of authority, stood by the window. He held a wolf-hair brush in his hand, his wrist poised over a giant sheet of Xuan paper, yet the brush did not fall. He was the current head of the Zhuge clan, Zhuge Yuan.
Hearing the footsteps behind him, he did not turn around, only asking faintly, "How is Xuan'er?"
"The Young Master is awake," Uncle Quan's voice was as calm as ever.
Zhuge Yuan's poised wrist trembled slightly. A drop of thick ink fell from the brush tip, blooming into a jarring inkblot on the pristine white paper, ruining the aesthetic of the entire sheet. He slowly put down the brush and turned around. In his eyes, which were 80% similar to Zhuge Xuan's, a trace of uncontrollable emotion finally emerged.
"What did the physicians say?"
"His life is no longer in danger, but..." Uncle Quan paused, choosing his words carefully. "Although the poison of the 'Soul-Severing Grass' has been suppressed, his meridians are extremely damaged. I'm afraid... his future path in cultivation will be fraught with difficulty."
"He's crippled, isn't he?" Zhuge Yuan's voice turned cold, and the temperature in the study seemed to drop a few degrees along with it.
Uncle Quan lowered his eyelids and did not answer, but the silence itself was an answer.
Zhuge Yuan closed his eyes, his chest heaving violently for a moment before he forcibly suppressed it. When he opened his eyes again, all emotion had been retracted, leaving only the absolute rationality and coldness befitting the head of a clan. "Wang Teng... The Wang family... Good, very good."
He slowly walked to a tea table carved from a single piece of black jade, sat down, and personally lifted the teapot. He poured two cups of still-warm tea, pushing one to the opposite side.
"Did he... say anything?"
Uncle Quan sat down as invited and recounted Zhuge Xuan's words and actions in the room, including the request to play Go and the final instruction about "accepting the Wang family's compensation," without omitting a single word. He added no personal speculation or judgment, faithfully playing the role of a messenger.
As he narrated, Zhuge Yuan's brows furrowed tighter and tighter. When he heard the final line, "Let everyone in Qingyang City know that we, the Zhuge family, have accepted the Wang family's 'apology'," the hand holding the teacup froze in mid-air. An invisible pressure emanated from his body, making the air feel thick and heavy.
Bang!
The porcelain cup was slammed heavily onto the jade table, making a crisp and dangerous sound. Tea splashed out, flowing down the smooth surface of the table.
"Nonsense!" Zhuge Yuan's voice was as deep as an ancient bell, suppressing a towering rage. "My Zhuge clan's qilin-child has had his cultivation crippled and nearly lost his life, and in return, we are to wag our tails and beg, accepting that laughable handout from the enemy? And we're to make it known to all, turning my Zhuge clan into the laughingstock of all Qingyang City? Are those words he should be saying?!"
Uncle Quan still kept his head down, his tone unchanging, "Those were the Young Master's exact words."
"Has he... damaged his mind?" Zhuge Yuan's gaze was as sharp as a blade, stabbing straight at Uncle Quan. "Or was the blow so great that he has lost all spirit, and now only seeks to live ignobly?"
"This subordinate dares not speculate," Uncle Quan replied. "But from my observation, the Young Master is clear-headed, and his eyes... are even calmer than at any time in the past. He asked this subordinate to relay a message to the Clan Head: 'A lion feigning sleep has an easier time waiting for the prey to walk into the trap itself.'"
This last sentence was like a basin of cold water poured over Zhuge Yuan's blazing anger.
A lion feigning sleep...
Zhuge Yuan's anger slowly subsided, replaced by deep contemplation. He knew his son too well. Zhuge Xuan had been calm and steady since childhood, with a mind for strategy that surpassed others. He was absolutely not the type to give up on himself due to a single setback. For him to say this, to do this, he must have his reasons.
However, this reasoning was too incredible, bordering on humiliating.
He was silent for a long time. The study was so quiet one could hear the rustling of leaves being brushed by the wind outside the window. Finally, he stood up and walked towards the door without a word. Uncle Quan immediately rose and followed silently behind him.
When Zhuge Yuan pushed open that door, Zhuge Xuan was leaning against the headboard, playing a game of Go against himself. On the board, black and white stones were already crisscrossing, with several dozen moves played. He played very slowly, each move as if it had been calculated countless times, his expression so focused it seemed as if the entire world had been reduced to the battlefield within the inches of the board before him.
Hearing the door open, he did not look up, only saying faintly, "Father, you're here."
Zhuge Yuan's footsteps stopped a few paces from the bed. He looked at the Go board, his brow slightly furrowed. The white stones, based on Tianyuan, radiated their influence in all four directions, appearing loose but subtly holding control over the entire board. The black stones, however, advanced cautiously, encroaching from the sides and corners, steady and aggressive. This was entirely Zhuge Xuan playing against himself, yet it was filled with murderous intent and perilous situations.
"Do you have any idea what kind of waves the message you had Uncle Quan bring back will stir up once it gets out?" Zhuge Yuan's voice betrayed neither joy nor anger.
"I know." Zhuge Xuan finally raised his head, his gaze meeting his father's calmly. "The voices of opposition will outnumber the voices of support by at least 3 times. Several elders will use 'clan honor' as a reason to force you to declare war. Among the 17 branch families, at least 5 will feign compliance while acting in defiance, perhaps even secretly contacting the Wang and Li families to secure a way out."
He paused, picked up another white stone, and blocked one of the black stones' attacks before continuing, "And the Wang family will loudly proclaim their 'magnanimity,' painting our Zhuge clan as a cowardly family that swallows insults. The Li family will watch the tigers fight from a mountaintop, pretending to console us on one hand while waiting for us to fall out completely with the Wang family so they can reap the benefits. As for those fence-sitters in Qingyang City, they will slowly distance themselves from us in the coming months."
Zhuge Yuan's pupils contracted slightly. He hadn't expected his son, on his sickbed and with only a few words from Uncle Quan, could deduce the subsequent potential developments with such clarity and accuracy. This was no longer mere intelligence, but a nearly terrifying level of insight.
"Since you understand all this, why still resort to such an inferior strategy?" he asked in a deep voice. "This is equivalent to placing the clan's reputation on a fire to be roasted."
"Reputation?" Zhuge Xuan let out a soft laugh, a laugh that carried a vicissitude that did not match his age. "Father, something like reputation is only a crown of glory when your fist is strong enough. When it's not, it's a death warrant. Does the current Zhuge clan still have the right to speak of reputation?"
He raised a hand and pointed out the window, his tone turning icy. "We are surrounded by powerful enemies without, and plagued by termites within. The Wang and Li families dared to make a move because they calculated that we would not dare to risk mutual destruction. they are waiting, waiting for us to fall into chaos internally first. If we choose to go to war now, we'd be walking right into their trap. A pyrrhic victory would be enough to severely damage the Zhuge clan's vitality, preventing recovery for decades. If we lose, it would be eternal damnation. This is a gamble we cannot afford."
Zhuge Yuan was silent. How could he not know these principles? But as the Clan Head, his pride and responsibility made it impossible for him to swallow this insult easily.
"So, we are to endure?"
"Endurance is not the goal, it is the means." Zhuge Xuan's gaze returned to the board. "Accepting the compensation is the first step. This step is to make everyone believe that I, Zhuge Xuan, am crippled, and that the Zhuge clan's sharp edge has been crippled along with me. They will lower their guard, and they will move us down a few spots on their list of top enemies. This will buy us the most precious thing of all—time."
"Time?"
"Yes, time." Zhuge Xuan placed a stone, his voice firm and forceful. "I need time to recover. The clan needs time to sort out its internal affairs, to clear out those wavering fence-sitters. And we need even more time to allow cracks to appear from within the Wang and Li families' alliance."
He looked up, a glint of wisdom in his eyes. "We accept the Wang family's insignificant compensation with great fanfare. What will that look like to the Li family? They will feel that the Wang family paid a price while they themselves came out unscathed. This is an injustice between allies. Once the seeds of suspicion are planted, they will sprout sooner or later. What we need to do is to water and fertilize them."
Zhuge Yuan listened quietly, the shock in his heart beyond words. He had originally thought his son merely wanted to feign weakness in exchange for a moment of respite. He never imagined that behind this seemingly humiliating move lay such a far-reaching scheme to divide his enemies.
This game of Go, from the very beginning, was not just about Qingyang City.
"What... do you plan to do?" Zhuge Yuan's voice, without him realizing it, had taken on a solemnity as if speaking to an equal.
"Only by showing weakness to the outside can we purge the inside." Zhuge Xuan's tone was calm, yet it carried an unquestionable power. "Father, with this 'humiliation,' we can see clearly who in the clan are the loyal and courageous ones with fire in their blood, who are the incompetent fools who only shout empty slogans, and who... are the traitors who have long harbored dissent."
He looked at his father's shocked eyes and slowly revealed his ultimate goal.
"What I want is not a chaotic revenge. What I want is a thorough cleansing. From our enemies, to within our own ranks. I will take this dead game, and make it live."
Zhuge Yuan was speechless for a long time. He looked at his son, whose face was still pale and body still weak, yet it was as if he was seeing a truly awakened lion. The anger that had been ignited in him had now turned into a profound... anticipation.
He walked slowly to the side of the Go board, looked at the complex situation, and reached out to pick up a black stone from one of the bowls.
Without the slightest hesitation, he placed the black stone right beside the white "Tianyuan" stone, creating a sharp confrontation.
"Good." Zhuge Yuan said only one word, but his voice was as heavy as Mount Tai.
"This game, Father will play it with you."