After the council, Yuan Yu had withdrawn into silence for several days. Yet within the sect estates, stillness was never permitted to last. The bustle, the splendor, the ceaseless movement of power inevitably drew him back into its current.
The clan courtyard was as lively as ever—servants, disciples, and attendants moving like an anthill, tireless and precise. Wealth lingered in every stone, every tree, every breath within these walls.
The White Dragon Sect, to which Han Liang belonged, was formidable in war… but it could not compare to this in riches. Among the ten great sects of the realm, they ranked seventh—renowned for swords and warriors, yet prosperity often eluded them.
The top two sects, however…
The Yuan family's own sect.
And above even them, gleaming with unrivaled splendor, stood the Tiger Sect.
Shielded beneath the Emperor's shadow, these sects could not be plundered, could not be challenged without consequence.
As the evening sun poured gold across the gardens, Yuan Yu walked quietly through the courtyard. Peach blossoms swayed in the breeze, and elegant cranes lingered near the pond, their reflections trembling in the water.
Watching the birds take flight into the open sky filled his heart with a fleeting peace.
This was his home…
and also his chain.
For the Yuan clan was surrounded by threats—both within and beyond its walls.
It was then that his mother, Xu Mei, approached in silence. Her silk robes stirred with the wind, her gaze carrying both pride and worry.
"Yuan Yu," Xu Mei said softly, yet with unmistakable firmness, "your time has come. Not only the sect… but the family also has expectations of you. It is long past the moment for you to choose a wife."
Yuan Yu lowered his head, a faint smile touching his lips.
"Mother… isn't it too early for such talks?" Yuan Yu said gently. "I'm not ready for marriage yet. Not now."
Xu Mei's gaze lingered on her son's face.
That face everyone spoke of—
fair skin, lashes too long, brows finely arched, features delicate as if carved from porcelain. His eyes were unlike anyone else's: hazel, shifting softly between green and brown, like jade touched by warm earthlight. And his hair… not black, but the color of deep chestnut, dark brown silk falling over his shoulders in quiet elegance.
A beauty that stole the breath not only of women…
but of men as well.
"Your beauty is a gift from the Heavens," Xu Mei said quietly, "but it can also be a curse. Both women and men watch you, my son… and not all of those gazes are innocent."
Yuan Yu said nothing. His silence was answer enough.
He knew, deep within, that one day his beauty would bring him great trouble.
Whispers from distant lands had already reached them:
Myung Moon, one of the young leaders of the Tiger Sect, had heard of Yuan Yu—and hungered to see him.
At thirty-five, powerful and striking, Myung Moon was revered by hundreds. Despite already having three wives, rumors of Yuan Yu's allure had ensnared his thoughts like a slow poison.
These rumors only deepened Xu Mei's urgency.
For if her son were to attract the attention of a suitor beyond his will…
the consequences would not simply be a matter of love.
It could ignite sect against sect.
Yuan Yu turned his gaze back toward the cranes. Their wings beat freely against the evening sky, unshackled. The sight stirred something sharp within his chest.
"Wealth… beauty… power…"
Yuan Yu's voice was low.
"Where is my escape? And when will it come?"
Yet even as the question left his lips, Yuan Yu already knew the truth.
His name, his inheritance, his beauty…
had long since spread beyond the walls of his home.
And there would be no simple escape.