"By the way," Liu Xiaobei said, his tone shifting as he glanced meaningfully at Xuefeng's Storage Ring, "I wanted to ask about your recent visit to the Spirit Treasury." His expression was calm but probing. "You may not know, but the treasury is my Spirit Artifact. I can monitor everything inside at will. I was prepared to provide you with any Spirit Artifacts you lacked, but it seems you've already secured everything you needed. Was it your master who helped you bypass the Guardian Spirit's detection?"
Though his voice lacked accusation, there was a gravity to his words. If there was a method to evade the Guardian Spirit, it wasn't just a curiosity—it was a security risk.
Xuefeng hesitated briefly before offering a sheepish smile. "That's right. She helped me move all the Spirit Artifacts into a hidden space within my Spirit. That way, I didn't need to return and ask for more tokens. I… may have taken more items than the tokens allowed, and it would've been awkward to explain."
Liu Xiaobei studied him for a long moment before nodding. "I see. That makes sense." He stroked his chin thoughtfully. "It seems there's little I can do to improve the Treasury's defenses then. Your master's abilities clearly surpass anything a mere rank 6 Spatial Artifact can achieve."
Relief washed over Xuefeng as his father's expression softened.
"Also," Liu Xiaobei added, "don't feel guilty about what you took. Everything in the Spirit Treasury belongs to me, and as my son, it's as good as yours."
"Alright then," Xuefeng replied, grinning cheekily. "I'll be even more shameless next time."
His father chuckled. "Go ahead. If you need anything else for your training, speak to Elder Ming. He'll ensure you have what you require."
"Got it!" Xuefeng replied with a thumbs up before heading out of the mansion. Once back on the main street, he exhaled deeply, relief flooding him.
It's a good thing I made up that story about my master, he thought. If I hadn't, Father might've grown suspicious—maybe even questioned if I'm really his son. There's no way I could've claimed credit for modifying Spirit Arts like that.
Back in the Clan Leader's study, Senior Wang materialized moments after Xuefeng's departure.
"Did you see that sword technique my son performed?" Liu Xiaobei asked, his tone brimming with curiosity.
Senior Wang nodded, still visibly impressed. "Yes, I did. It was remarkably powerful."
"Could you replicate it?" Liu Xiaobei inquired, though he suspected the answer.
"I can mimic the movements," Senior Wang admitted, "but the Spirit Qi patterns are far too advanced. Whoever created it must be a true powerhouse, with unparalleled knowledge of Spirit Arts." He shook his head, the praise in his tone unmistakable. "To refine a Sword Art that was already near perfection—there are no words."
"I noticed that as well," Liu Xiaobei said, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "The foundation was clearly the first move of our Sacred Serpent Steps, but every weakness in the Spirit Qi patterns has been corrected. While it's still technically a rank 5 Spirit Art, its power rivals─"
Liu Xiaobei's sentence trailed off as Senior Wang stiffened, his gaze snapping toward the door as if sensing a disturbance. Without a word, he vanished.
Moments later, a Shadow Guard appeared, kneeling before the Clan Leader.
"Sir," the guard reported crisply, "we followed your orders and tracked your brother. We've confirmed that he planned an action that could endanger the Young Master's life. He and his son have been detained."
Liu Xiaobei's expression darkened, his voice turning cold. "I spared him once when he attacked my son, but no more. Execute them both and announce their betrayal to the clan."
"Yes, Sir." The Shadow Guard disappeared as swiftly as he had come, leaving Liu Xiaobei alone in the quiet room.
Liu Xiaobei leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled in thought. "I suppose it's time to discuss the future with my wife," he murmured. "If Xuefeng can mature this quickly, we'll need to move sooner than planned. Oh, Xuefeng…" A small, rueful smile tugged at his lips. "You keep surprising me."
***
Xuefeng reached his courtyard an hour later, surprised to find both women still in their rooms. The silence felt oddly weighty, the kind that wrapped itself around you and refused to let go. On his way back, he'd stopped at a pancake stall and bought breakfast, thinking it might smooth over any lingering tension from the morning. The Liu Clan's territory had no shortage of shops and stalls; convenience seemed to be one of its hidden luxuries.
Four Spirit Stones for two portions—a bargain, he thought, though it was a drop in the ocean compared to the wealth sitting in his storage ring.
He carried the neatly wrapped packages to the Princess's door and knocked lightly, the sound almost swallowed by the quiet. No response. He hesitated for a moment, then pushed the door open. The room greeted him with a sudden chill, the air sharper and colder than outside, sending a subtle shiver down his spine.
There she was, sprawled across the bed like a doll left behind in a child's game, her quilt lazily draped over half her body. Her pink silk nightdress caught the dim light filtering through the window, clinging to her curves with a scandalous ease. It was the kind of fabric so delicate it seemed woven from whispers. If Xuefeng crouched just a little lower, his mind warned him, he'd see too much.
Isn't she a little too comfortable? he thought, his lips twitching in a mixture of amusement and disbelief.
Carefully, he approached the bed and sat on its edge, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. The smell of lavender and something faintly sweet hung in the air. He placed the breakfast packages on the nightstand, but his gaze couldn't help but wander. Her face, softened by sleep, seemed to belong to another person—serene, untouched by the sharp wit and cunning he'd come to associate with her.
His eyes trailed lower, tracing the lines of her figure before Ling's voice shattered his unspoken thoughts.
Look at the necklace!
He blinked, refocusing. There it was: a small golden crystal nestled between her breasts, catching the light with a faint, otherworldly glow. A silver chain looped around her neck, the stone resting against her skin as if it belonged there. The golden hue was subtle, almost hidden, like a secret whispered only to those who knew where to look.
The Fate Fragment is sealed inside, or rather, it's in hibernation, Ling explained, her excitement crackling in his mind. She probably wears it as a necklace because it's pretty. How about we grab it now?
No, Xuefeng replied firmly. We can't use force. Let's try other methods first.
He leaned closer, his hand brushing her cheek with deliberate care. Her skin was warm beneath his fingertips. "Princess," he said softly, his voice low and coaxing. "It's time to wake up. I brought breakfast for you."
Her eyelids fluttered, just for a moment—a flicker so brief it would've been easy to miss. But Xuefeng didn't miss it. He saw through her act, the tiniest tell in her charade, and his lips curled into a knowing smile.
He withdrew his hand and stood. "Okay," he said lightly. "You can sleep a bit longer. I'll wake up Wuying next."
The move was calculated, and it worked like a charm.
Before he could take a step, her hand shot out, grabbing his arm. "Don't leave," she murmured, her voice soft but unmistakably firm.
Xuefeng smirked inwardly. Gotcha.
Feigning surprise, he looked back at her. "Oh, so you weren't asleep," he said, his tone teasing.
Her response came like a curveball. "Tell me," she said, her dark eyes holding his, "I was defenseless just now. Why didn't you make a move on me?"
The question hung in the air, bold and sharp-edged. For a moment, Xuefeng was caught off guard. "What?" he managed, his composure faltering.
She didn't bother answering. Instead, with a sudden burst of movement, she flipped him onto the bed. He barely had time to register the world spinning before she pinned his arms, straddling him with a grin that was both playful and predatory. The silk of her nightdress slipped from her shoulders, hanging dangerously, and her hair fell around her face like a curtain, framing her expression.
"You walked into a tigress's den," she said, her voice a low purr, "and you expect to leave without offering her a bite?"
Her lips curved into a smile as she leaned closer, licking her lips like a predator savoring the moment before the kill. Her nightdress shifted with her movements, clinging to her curves in ways that made Xuefeng's breath hitch. He swallowed hard, his imagination threatening to spiral out of control.
This is going to be trouble, he thought, torn between panic and the undeniable pull of temptation.