The heavy doors remained closed most of the time, and when they opened… it was usually for something that could not be delayed.
They sat in their places as if they were part of the hall itself. No extra movement, no cheap, curious glances. Who knows… who knows, the hall was teeming with sheikhs from various sects, gathered for their regular weekly meeting to discuss the affairs of the upper world.
At the head of the chamber sat Gu Changji, as always. Relaxed posture, calm gaze, as though whatever was being discussed beneath him carried little weight. And yet, no one spoke above his voice.
The discussion revolved around matters that could never leave those walls—borders, clans, movements… things that, if even a single word escaped, could erase an entire world in silence.
In the midst of that quiet tide of conversation, the council door slowly opened with deliberate precision—slow, but not hesitant. No knock. No announcement. It simply opened… and that was enough.
The discussion stopped without command. Some raised their eyes; others did not move at all, as though what entered was only worth a passing glance—or as if acknowledging it would give it too much importance.
Qing Han entered.
Measured steps. Calm rhythm. No haste, no pretense. He was no longer the same young man who had left earlier. His face remained unchanged, but something about his posture had shifted—his stance, his gaze, the way he carried himself. The old clothes were gone, replaced with something fitting for this place: nothing extravagant, nothing loud—only a clean, composed presence.
Behind him walked Yin Wai. Unlike usual, she did not lead, nor did she speak. Her steps were lighter, slower, as though she were observing rather than guiding. Her nine tails moved quietly behind her—no display, no concealment. Her presence alone explained enough… to those who understood.
Qing Han walked through the rows without lingering on anyone. He neither studied faces nor ignored them entirely. He passed as though he already knew where he belonged—or as though there was no need to prove it. He stopped only beside Gu Changji.
A brief silence settled over the hall. No sound. No movement. Just scattered gazes converging on him, measuring him in silence.
A man on the left narrowed his eyes slightly. Another leaned forward just a fraction, as though this had become worth watching.
Gu Changji did not react immediately. He turned his gaze toward him slowly, without changing his posture. There was no surprise, no curiosity—only calm evaluation, as always.
"You're back."
The words were light, almost weightless.
"And it seems… you didn't die."
A faint smile appeared on his lips—neither mocking nor welcoming.
Qing Han did not respond at once. He gave a short, precise bow—neither excessive nor lacking—then straightened. When he raised his head, his gaze was steady. It neither sought approval nor challenged authority.
"Barely," he said simply.
One of Yin Wai's tails shifted slightly behind him, as if confirming the statement without intervening.
A faint stillness passed through the hall. Not full silence—rather, the kind that precedes an unspoken judgment.
Gu Changji tilted his head slightly, still watching him.
"Did you bring anything back… or did you merely survive?"
The question wasn't harsh, but it wasn't empty either.
Qing Han paused for a second, as if weighing the answer rather than the words.
"I survived… enough," he said.
Then added, without raising his voice:
"To be useful."
He said nothing more. He didn't need to.
At the edge of the hall, one man leaned back slightly, as though the answer was shorter than expected. Another gave a faint smile that didn't reach his eyes.
Yin Wai remained silent. No approval. No objection. She simply stood behind him, as though her task had ended the moment she brought him here.
Gu Changji looked at him a moment longer.
Then smiled.
"Useful…"
He repeated it softly, as though the word carried more than one meaning.
"We'll see."
He shifted his gaze back to the hall, as though something small had just been added to a larger calculation.
"Since you've become useful…"
His tone remained casual, as if assigning something trivial.
"Prove it. Especially since these elders from different sects are present."
No explanation followed. None was needed.
A voice broke the silence from the right side.
"Young Master, if I may."
A middle-aged man, sharp features, eyes fixed on Qing Han since his arrival. His voice was controlled, but edged.
"I do not question your judgment, but… bringing someone like this into the council so abruptly?"
He paused.
"Even if he is someone you know, this is insufficient."
He did not look at Gu Changji when he finished—his gaze remained on Qing Han.
Another voice followed, colder, amused.
"Agreed."
A man seated further forward, lazily tapping his finger on the table.
"If the Young Master intends to choose a new subordinate, that is fine… but don't blame us if he dies by accident."
Qing Han did not react. He simply listened.
Behind him, Yin Wai remained motionless—watching, waiting.
Gu Changji finally spoke.
"What do you think?"
A simple question. But not a simple one.
This time, Qing Han moved.
He lifted his head fully, gaze passing over the two men without haste. No anger. No ridicule. Only calm clarity.
"Elder of the Black Mountain Sect… and the young leader of the Eastern Rock Sect's younger generation."
A brief pause.
"I appreciate your concern regarding my 'test' before the Young Master."
Then—his tone cooled.
"But…"
He looked directly at them.
"Don't you think you've overstepped your boundaries?"
No raised voice. No urgency.
Yet the atmosphere shifted.
"Even if I am merely a subordinate… as you assume, that does not change one simple fact."
He tilted his head slightly.
"I stand here… by the permission of the Young Master."
Pause.
"And you—"
He let the silence hang.
"Speak as though you have the right to decide the rules of this council."
The air tightened.
The man on the right finally lost his smile. His expression cooled further, irritation suppressed.
"Strong words… for your position."
He said it slowly.
But Qing Han did not even look at him.
"I've learned since arriving here," Qing Han continued calmly, "that the strong are the ones who hold the right to speak and set the rules."
His eyes sharpened slightly.
"And that… is what you all lack."
A pause fell.
For the first time, the man stopped tapping his finger.
Even Yin Wai's tails slowed.
Gu Changji did not intervene. Did not interrupt.
He only watched.
Qing Han finished:
"If you wish to test me… ask permission first."
Pause.
"Otherwise stepping forward and setting conditions—"
A brief glance.
"Is a mistake that may cost you your lives."
Silence.
The tension tightened further.
Then the man on the right leaned forward.
"You sound very confident… and very arrogant. I didn't think there was anyone more arrogant than Gu Changji in this world… but you seem to be his copy."
Qing Han finally turned to him.
No hesitation.
"Why shouldn't I be?"
The man almost erupted—but Gu Changji raised a hand.
"Enough."
A calm command, but absolute.
He looked at Qing Han again.
"You've changed. Has Yin Wai's training done this to you?"
Qing Han answered lightly, almost casually.
"Ah… you could say that. Nearly died several times, haha."
He shrugged.
"But it was worth it."
A faint smile.
"I didn't expect cultivation to be this… interesting."
He continued, as if recalling something amusing.
"I was sure I'd die at some point. Honestly, Yin Wai didn't feel like she was training me… more like she was looking for a stylish way to bury me."
No one moved.
Some froze.
Others narrowed their eyes.
Gu Changji simply watched.
"But the result…"
His smile widened slightly.
"Was worth it."
"I'm not the same anymore."
Silence deepened.
The elder spoke again, voice cold.
"Empty words."
He scoffed.
"You were just a boy who barely opened his sea of consciousness days ago… and now you claim change?"
Leaning forward.
"Do you think standing in this hall gives you weight? Or being near the Young Master made you delusional?"
Qing Han's expression finally shifted—calm fading into something sharper.
"What I despise most…"
His voice dropped.
"…is someone who doesn't know their place."
A massive pressure erupted.
The elder collapsed to his knees, gasping violently, palms pressed against the floor.
Qing Han's voice continued—cold, absolute:
"Don't forget who you're speaking to. The Gu family."
The words carried weight beyond the elder alone.
Yin Wai's lips curled faintly into a restrained smile.
Gu Changji placed a hand on Qing Han's shoulder, laughing.
"Hoho… you've become scary, Qing Han."
The pressure vanished.
Qing Han relaxed.
"Being feared is better than being underestimated."
Gu Changji leaned in slightly.
"I thought I heard you claiming to be part of the Gu family earlier…"
Qing Han blinked.
"…I think you imagined that."
A pause.
Then both of them burst into laughter.
The council slowly dispersed afterward.
Gu Changji left with Yin Wai and Qing Han following behind.