Later that same day, on Zhōngnán Mountain, inside the main reception hall of the sūn Clan.
The hall was vast and rectangular, with a long sky-blue carpet stretching from the entrance to the raised throne platform at the far end. Delicate golden patterns were woven across its surface, naturally drawing the eye toward the seat of authority.
The throne rested atop a platform several steps above the hall's floor. Behind it stood a wall completely covered in gilded carvings depicting two heavenly birds facing one another, their wings spreading outward before meeting behind the throne in perfect symmetry. Above them, the sculpted head of a golden dragon protruded from the wall, its sharp eyes overlooking the entire hall as though it were the eternal guardian of the clan leader's seat.
Along both sides of the hall stood towering blue wooden pillars, their bases and capitals plated with polished gold. Between the pillars hung blue banners and curtains that swayed gently in the breeze drifting through the tall windows. Each window stood as high as a man and was decorated with intricate stained-glass patterns, allowing sunlight to filter through in soft hues that painted the stone floor with shifting colors.
Low tables were arranged neatly along both sides of the carpet, reserved for the clan's honored guests.
Four people sat behind them, their seats arranged according to their status. Closest to the throne sat a tall, slender man whose calm demeanor naturally commanded respect.
His face was long and sharply defined, with prominent cheekbones that gave his features a stern elegance. His thick jet-black hair fell past his shoulders, framing his face like a dark curtain. His eyes were narrow and almond-shaped, their deep color concealing any trace of emotion, while his slightly thick, straight eyebrows gave him a composed, unwavering expression.
His nose was straight and refined, and a thin mustache connected seamlessly to a neatly trimmed beard that extended beneath his chin. His light wheat-colored complexion further enhanced the dignified and refined aura he carried.
Unlike the three people accompanying him, Sima Quan managed to conceal his irritation beneath a calm expression.
After all, he was one of the elders of the Sima Clan and the leader of an important diplomatic delegation sent to negotiate with the leader of the Sūn Clan.
Yet despite his status, he had been kept waiting in the reception hall for three full hours.
"Sūn Yan... that crafty old hag and her endless psychological games."
Sima Quan cursed inwardly.
He knew this was one of her favorite tactics.
By deliberately making her political rivals wait, she exhausted their patience and unsettled their emotions before the negotiations had even begun, allowing her to seize the initiative from the very first exchange.
Even knowing this, he still couldn't suppress the anger simmering within him.
Some time later, the door to the right of the throne slowly opened.
An elderly woman entered the hall, followed by a retinue of attendants.
The moment she appeared, Sima Quan and the three elders accompanying him immediately rose to their feet in greeting.
One of them, however, couldn't hide the faint surprise that crossed his face.
Although he had long known that the leader of the Sūn Clan was a woman, seeing it with his own eyes was still difficult to believe.
It stood in stark contrast to the customs of the current era.
In some clans, women were not even permitted to become Gu Masters, let alone inherit positions of authority.
For a woman to stand at the head of an entire clan...
That was, without question, an exceedingly rare sight.
Sūn Yan was so old that anyone seeing her for the first time might think she could pass away at any moment.
As far as Sima Quan knew, his grandfather had once told him—back when he was still alive—that Sūn Yan had already been considered an old woman when his grandfather first became aware of the world.
So just how old was she now?
Even he didn't dare to guess.
After a moment, with the assistance of her attendants, Sūn Yan slowly climbed the steps leading to the throne. Each step was slow and heavy until she finally reached the seat and lowered herself onto it.
Although she was short and physically frail, the many layers of her elaborate robes spread across the throne, making it seem as though she completely filled it.
Her small face was covered by a dense web of wrinkles carved by countless years, leaving hardly a patch of smooth skin. Most of her teeth had long since fallen out, causing her lips to sink inward and giving her features an even more gaunt appearance.
Her eyes were so pale that the whites seemed to overwhelm the irises, making Sima Quan wonder for a brief moment whether she could still see at all.
Yet the instant she settled onto the throne, she slowly raised her head, swept her gaze across the delegation with surprising precision, and said in a calm voice burdened by the weight of countless years,
"My apologies for keeping you waiting... but you know that moving about is no easy task for someone of my age."
"No need to apologize, Lady Sūn," Sima Quan replied with a respectful bow. "We all understand the health challenges that come with your age."
"Ah, yes... yes..."
Sūn Yan nodded absentmindedly before looking at the delegation.
"Now then... why have you come here today?"
She paused for a moment before adding,
"And... who are you?"
Sima Quan froze where he stood.
For a brief instant, he wondered whether the rumors had been true after all.
Had the years finally clouded her mind?
Before he could utter a word, however, Sūn Yan let out a soft chuckle.
"Hehe..."
"I was merely teasing you."
"Of course I know why you've come."
"You are here to discuss the coming war."
"I haven't become senile just yet."
A faint smile appeared on Sima Quan's face as he let out a quiet laugh.
"Haha... Naturally, Lady Sūn, I have never doubted the sharpness of your mind."
He straightened his posture.
"As you already know, war is approaching."
"Yet until now, the Sūn Clan has not made its position clear."
"We have come today to hear your answer directly."