The Sacred Leaves Family's Wishes for Peace

"Life and Death Cicada?"

Baili Moxue, who was tidying her husband's attire, froze in place upon hearing Yun Yanshuang's words.

Even Yun Yunyu, who had been immersed in her grief, was drawn to the conversation. She staggered over to Yun Yanshuang, her voice trembling, "Shuang... Shuang'er, is what you said true?"

"Second Aunt, it's all true!"

"Wonderful… truly wonderful!"

The sorrowful expression on Yun Yunyu's face cracked for the first time, replaced by a fragile smile.

"However, this item is a heaven-defying immortal blessing. For Wang Liyuan to have obtained it is a testament to his profound fortune.

Shuang'er isn't sure if we'll be able to claim it when we journey to Wanlong Mountain. If we fail, then…"

Her voice faltered, her gaze drifting to the coffin holding Yun Yantian.

"It... it doesn't matter. Even if the chance is slim, it's still better than having no hope at all."

Yun Yunyu understood all too well how rare and elusive a treasure capable of bringing someone back to life must be.

If they succeeded, it would mean her son was destined to live.

If they failed, then perhaps it was fate, and forcing the heavens would be futile.

"Shuang'er, I will go with you."

At the altar, Baili Moxue removed her mourning headscarf and shed her plain mourning attire. Her gaze locked on Yun Yanshuang, exuding an unprecedented resolve.

"Sister-in-law, the depths of Wanlong Mountain are fraught with danger. You—"

"Precisely because it's perilous, I must accompany you. How could I let you take such a risk alone?"

Baili Moxue smiled faintly, her determination unwavering.

"Alright!"

Yun Yanshuang considered her sister-in-law's status as the Seventh Princess. With her involvement, gaining the emperor's approval to enter Wanlong Mountain would be much easier.

"Shuang'er Auntie, I've brought the spirit coffin!"

Outside the hall, Yun Wenxuan arrived hurriedly, carrying a spiritual artifact: an ice coffin capable of preserving a corpse for up to a decade.

"Place your Uncle Yantian's body inside with care," Yun Yanshuang instructed gently.

"Understood."

Yun Wenxuan nodded solemnly, setting the spirit coffin down and carefully placing Yun Yantian's body inside.

"Wait for me."

Kneeling by the coffin, Baili Moxue tenderly caressed Yun Yantian's face, her voice soft and full of affection.

After whispering those two words, she closed the lid of the spirit coffin herself.

In a secluded courtyard, Yun Yunshan listened as his son recounted everything.

"You're going to Wanlong Mountain?"

"Yes, Father. I want to see the situation for myself and secretly protect Shuang'er and the others."

Yun Yanshui's voice was calm, but the weight of his grief was unmistakable. Losing his elder brother had been a heavy blow.

He could not bear the thought of letting his sister and the others venture into such danger alone. If something were to happen to them, the pain would be unbearable.

"Very well. Be careful on the journey."

Yun Yunshan understood his son's intentions and offered only a simple warning.

At the Wang family estate in Yulin County.

"H-How could this happen? How?"

Wang Zhongtian stood frozen in shock, his face pale as he stared at the gruesome sight before him: the shattered remains of his ancestor Wang Qinglin, his nephew Wang Lilong, and the other Wang family cultivators. Their broken bodies lay scattered across the ground.

His legs gave out beneath him, and he collapsed to the ground.

The day before, the Wang clan members residing at the foot of Yulin Mountain had witnessed a massive disturbance at their ancestral grounds. They knew an outsider, a cultivator from the mountains, had forced their way into the forbidden grounds.

Few of the Wang clan paid it much mind.

After all, their ancestral grounds were protected by their mighty ancestor Wang Qinglin, as well as Wang Lilong and other talented cultivators under his command.

To them, an outsider daring to trespass was sheer folly, a death wish.

But when Wang Zhongtian led the family elders up the mountain the following day, intending to report on the clan's progress, they were met with an unimaginable scene.

The sight of the carnage left them stunned, as if struck by lightning.

The ancestral grounds lay in ruin—a wasteland of debris, mud, and blood. Scattered everywhere were broken bodies, their lifeless forms strewn haphazardly across the terrain.

Among the carnage, Wang Lilong's severed head was unmistakable, as was Wang Qinglin's corpse, gruesomely dismembered into three pieces. The sight plunged the Wang family into a collective grief so profound that anguished wails pierced the air, as though the heavens themselves had collapsed.

"Ancestor!"

Wang Zhongtian snapped out of his stupor and stumbled toward Wang Qinglin's remains. Seeing the horrifying state of his revered ancestor, his entire body trembled uncontrollably. Whether from sheer terror or the weight of his sorrow, he could not tell.

The rest of the Wang clan fell upon the broken forms of Wang Lilong and the other fallen cultivators, each finding a familiar face among the lifeless bodies.

"They're… they're all dead! All of them!"

"Who… who in the heavens dared to invade the ancestral grounds of the Wang family? Who could have done this? Even our ancestor… even he could not withstand them?"

The cries of grief turned to low growls of rage as the surviving clan members clutched the shattered remnants of their loved ones.

But Wang Zhongtian ignored the despair around him. Wiping the tears from his face, he suddenly thought of his son. Panic seized his heart as he stumbled toward the cultivation chamber near Serenity Lake.

"Please… let him be safe. Please…"

He whispered the prayer like a chant, over and over, as he ran.

When he finally reached the chamber, the sight of the door, forcibly torn apart by some immense power, sent a chill down his spine.

Stepping inside, his worst fears were confirmed. The stone walls and floor were smeared with dried, blackened blood. And there, amidst the stains, lay a single pale, severed hand—silent and cold, as if bidding its final farewell.

"Pfft—"

A spasm of anguish overtook him, and blood spewed from his mouth. His knees gave way, and he crumpled against the stone wall.

A father's bond with his child is not so easily severed.

Even before his mind fully registered what he saw, Wang Zhongtian's heart already knew. That hand belonged to his son, Wang Liyuan.

"Who did this?! Who dared?!"

Dragging himself forward on trembling limbs, Wang Zhongtian reached the pale hand and cradled it in his arms. Like a broken, helpless old man, he wept bitterly, his cries echoing through the empty chamber.

"Is it here?"

Just then, as Wang Zhongtian clung to his son's severed hand in despair, two figures entered the chamber: Master Li and Master Tu.

Though Wang Zhongtian was aware of their presence, he had no strength or will left to acknowledge them. The grief consuming him was too vast, too overwhelming.

"It seems there's no need for further explanation," Master Li said with a sigh, his gaze falling upon the grieving patriarch and the pale hand he held.

Behind him, several Imperial Guards entered swiftly, seizing Wang Zhongtian and pinning him to the ground.

Wang Zhongtian did not resist.

The moment he saw the destruction of his ancestor, his son, and every cultivator in the Wang clan, he had already realized the fate awaiting the Wang family.

Anger?

Of course, he felt it.

But in a world ruled by the strong, the rage of the weak meant nothing.

Victory belonged to the conqueror; defeat, to the vanquished. Such was the way of the world since time immemorial.

What pained him most was the thought that he might die without ever knowing who was responsible for his son's death.

"What of the remaining members of the Wang clan?"

"They will all be dealt with according to His Majesty's orders," Master Li replied with a heavy sigh.

And so, on that day, the Imperial Guards descended upon the Wang family estate, eradicating every last member.

The news spread like wildfire, shaking the entire Yue Kingdom to its core.

The other noble families, upon learning of the Wang clan's annihilation, were left in stunned disbelief.

Who could have wielded the power to kill Wang Qinglin and the entire Wang family's cultivators?

Speculations ran wild. Some believed it was the work of the imperial court, while others suspected the Wang family had offended some terrifying figure who had exacted bloody vengeance.

But no one knew for sure. The deaths of Wang Qinglin and his kin became an enduring mystery.

Even the court itself seemed curious about who could have orchestrated such an act.

Yet, as shock and speculation gave way to clarity, the true nature of the world revealed itself: a world of wolves circling their prey.

The Ye family of Canglan, the Lin family of Wangyue, the Lu family of Chuanyin, and countless others began moving swiftly, scrambling to seize the Wang clan's vast resources.

Even the unaffiliated cultivators of Yue Kingdom swarmed like vultures, each hoping to claim a share of the spoils.

To them, the Wang family's accumulated wealth was a feast—a prize worth tearing each other apart for.