Foresight

The wind on the mountain suddenly stopped.

The buzzing discussions seemed to be cut off by an invisible hand, and the eyes of all the cultivators turned to the high platform. The chair with gold-threaded cushions under the black tent finally had an owner.

The man leaned back in his chair, his scarlet, fiery robe open at the collar, the nine-ringed belt loosely fastened, and a pigeon-blood ruby ​​pendant hanging from his waist, jingling with the movement of his leg. Behind him stood a dozen or so Wen clan cultivators, uniformly dressed in red robes and black boots, their swords gleaming coldly at their waists, forming a forbidden zone around the area.

"Tsk, what a show." Wei Wuxian chuckled softly, his fingers unconsciously stroking the tassel of the casual sword at his waist.

"Wen Chao!" Jiang Cheng looked at the newcomer with disdain.

"Is everyone here?" Wen Chao finally raised his eyes, his gaze sweeping across the entire room. "Since this is a discussion hosted by my Wen clan, everyone must abide by my rules." He clapped his hands, and immediately Wen clan disciples carried forward more than a dozen wooden boxes. "From today onwards, all juniors will uniformly wear this 'Unity Robe'—a bright red robe with a nine-ringed waist and tight sleeves, symbolizing the unity of the immortal sects and their respect for the Wen clan."

The moment the box was opened, the dazzling red color was almost blinding. Nie Huaisang exclaimed and covered his face, "Oh dear, this color... it's way too bright!"

On the Lan Clan's side, Lan Wangji frowned as he looked at the bright red robe, his eyes filled with undisguised disgust. However, with his elder brother Lan Xichen giving a slight nod, he silently accepted the robe.

"Wear it or not?" Wen Chao toyed with the gem pendant, his tone nonchalant. "If you don't want to wear it, you can roll down the mountain right now."

The mountain wind lifted the corners of the black tent, revealing the banners faintly visible behind it. They were the Wen Clan's "Blazing Flame Banner," embroidered with a burning sun, which was now facing the faces of the cultivators from various families, like a silent mockery.

Half an hour later, a strange red color exploded on the hillside.

The Lan Clan disciples' white robes were forcibly removed, and their tight-sleeved red garments made their faces appear pale. The Jin Clan disciples' golden-spotted snow-wave robes were put away in trunks, with Jin Zixuan tugging at the collar, his face full of disgust. Only the Wen Clan disciples stood tall and proud, as if they were wearing the highest honors of court attire.

Xie Linyang stroked the rough-textured red robe in his hand, sneering inwardly. This Wen family, even their outward appearances are so domineering.

"Day One: Debate." Wen Chao announced from the high platform, his voice amplified by a specially made talisman, "The theme is—'Should the orthodox sects of the cultivation world be ruled by strength?'" He emphasized the word "strength," his gaze sweeping over Lan Xichen, "Your sect's reputation for 'elegance and righteousness' will be thoroughly discussed today."

Lan Xichen sat upright on the stone bench that had been temporarily moved there. He had changed from white robes to red robes, but he still maintained his dignified demeanor: "Young Master Wen is joking. The orthodox sects of the cultivation world should have the well-being of all living beings in mind, not strength."

"The common people?" Wen Chao sneered. "You can talk about the common people when you've been devoured by demonic beasts until there's not even a bone left!"

As the debate began, Xie Linyang stood beside Jiang Cheng, his fingertips touching the Shadow Grass on his neck. This grass hadn't been burned since he came down the mountain, but it started burning after he entered the Qishan Wen Clan, and now it felt as hot as if he were holding a branding iron.

She looked up at the side tent on the left side of the platform, which was the "medical tent" set up by the Wen family. Several Wen family disciples dressed in red were carrying medicine boxes in and out, and one slender figure stood out.

The woman from the Wen family had slightly raised eyebrows, exuding a sharp and authoritative air, while her eyes were softened by a gentle glint.

She was dressed in the same red dress as everyone else, but she rolled up the sleeves to her elbows, revealing her fair forearms, as she bent down to set the bones of a Wen clan collateral disciple who had sprained his ankle. Her movements were swift and decisive, with a hint of impatience in her brows, but when she touched the injured area, her fingertips unconsciously lightened their pressure.

Behind her, a slender, handsome young man in red was carrying a medicine box, his head bowed shyly, his fingers nervously twisting his belt. The young man had delicate features and pale lips. Upon hearing the woman's order to "bring the wound medicine," he immediately frantically searched for it, almost dropping the medicine bottle on the ground.

At this moment, the shadow grass hanging around her neck suddenly trembled slightly on her chest!

Xie Linyang's vision was instantly engulfed in blood—

She saw the woman she had just seen bound to a rack, flames rising from her feet. She gritted her teeth and refused to scream, staring intently in a certain direction until the flames licked her face and turned into a wisp of smoke.

She saw the fair-skinned youth kneeling on the ground, covered in blood, with several peach wood nails stuck in his chest. His eyes suddenly snapped open, his dark pupils churning with endless ghostly energy, his fingernails turning sharp as claws, and he roared as he lunged at the hunting cultivators…

"Thank you, Lin Yang!"

A hand suddenly gripped her wrist, pulling her back to reality from the blood-red illusion. Jiang Cheng's face was inches away, his eyes filled with panic: "What's wrong with you? Your face is so pale!"

Xie Linyang gasped for breath, cold sweat soaking the back of her red dress. She looked towards the direction of the medical tent, where the woman was frowning and scolding the boy for being "clumsy," while the boy blushed and apologized. Sunlight streamed through the gaps in the tent curtains, illuminating his face and highlighting the fine downy hairs, making him look as clean as an innocent child.

How could this be...?

The reflection in the lingering grass clearly showed their fate: to be reduced to ashes and transformed into fierce corpses. Yet, the two people before him—one a highly skilled but aloof physician, the other a shy and timid youth—showed no resemblance to the figures he had just met. What kind of darkness and injustice lay hidden within the domineering and seemingly omnipotent Wen family?

A huge question and an indescribable sense of sorrow instantly gripped her. She had originally thought the Wen family was a united front, full of arrogant and domineering people like Wen Chao, but this brother and sister... their ending was so tragic!

"I'm fine." Xie Linyang pulled away from Jiang Cheng's hand, her voice trembling. "I might... have a bit of heatstroke."

Jiang Cheng looked at her suspiciously, but didn't ask any further questions. He simply put his water pouch into her hand and said, "Have a sip of something cold."

Suddenly, a commotion erupted in the debate arena. Wei Wuxian, who had somehow appeared on the platform, pointed at an elder of the Wen clan: "According to you, the Wen clan, being the strongest, can arbitrarily annex other clans? How are they any different from demonic beasts?"

"Insolence!" Wen Chao slammed his hand on the table. "A mere cultivator from Yunmeng dares to question the Wen family!"

"Hey, don't get involved with the Yunmeng Jiang Clan, this is something only I, Wei Wuxian, would say!"

Jiang Cheng wanted to stop Wei Wuxian, but then noticed that Xie Linyang was not in a good state, so he could only let Wei Wuxian do as he pleased.

Wen Chao's face was ashen, his cold gaze fixed on Wei Wuxian like nails, a malicious smile curling at the corner of his lips, "Since you have nowhere to put your mouth and your energy, fine! This young master will find you a good place!"

He surveyed the entire hall and announced loudly, "Wei Ying has spoken rudely and defied the host clan. He is hereby punished to clean and tidy the entire main venue of the discussion! Every seat and floor must be spotless until the Wen clan inspects and finds it satisfactory!" He paused, then turned his gaze to the still silent Lan family. "Second Young Master Lan, the Gusu Lan clan is known for its self-discipline, propriety, and strict adherence to rules. You will be in charge of supervising this process to ensure that he dares not slack off and that every corner is cleaned 'according to the rules'!"

Upon hearing this order, everyone's expressions became subtle. Cleaning the venue, while seemingly milder than corporal punishment, was in fact a great humiliation for cultivators, especially the personal disciples of a young master. To have Lan Wangji, who was known for his fastidiousness and strict adherence to etiquette, supervise the most unruly person in cleaning was arguably one of the most inhumane punishments Wen Chao could conceive.

Wei Wuxian raised an eyebrow, not annoyed at all. Instead, he gave Wen Chao an exaggerated bow and drawled, "Yes, sir! I guarantee I'll clean this place until it's spotless, so that you, Young Master Wen, won't find a single fault with it!"

He then turned to Lan Wangji and said with a grin, "Second Young Master Lan, thank you for your 'guidance'?"

Lan Wangji remained expressionless, his aura of coldness almost tangible. He didn't even glance at Wei Wuxian, but gave a cold nod in Wen Chao's direction, accepting this unpleasant task.

...

The first day of the discussion came to a temporary close in a strange atmosphere that was outwardly calm but inwardly turbulent. Disciples from various clans returned to their temporary residences, while Wei Wuxian, with a bitter face, was "invited" by the Wen clan disciples to fulfill his punishment of cleaning the venue, with Lan Wangji following along and supervising with a blank expression.

Xie Linyang walked back with the Yunmeng Jiang Clan. After a whole day of tension and the mental shock brought by the Memory Grass, a trace of fatigue unconsciously appeared between her brows. Jiang Cheng walked beside her, his gaze sweeping over her slightly pale face several times. His lips moved, but in the end, he didn't say anything.

Upon returning to the courtyard assigned to them by the Yunmeng Jiang Clan, Jiang Yanli gently invited everyone to wash up and rest, assuring them that dinner would be served shortly. After everyone dispersed, Jiang Cheng did not immediately return to his room. He paused, then turned and walked towards the small kitchen.

A while later, Xie Linyang had just sat down in his guest room, preparing to meditate for a moment, when there was a knock on the door.

"Lin Yang." It was Jiang Cheng's voice.

Xie Linyang got up and opened the door, only to see Jiang Cheng standing outside, the twilight casting a soft, warm glow on his tall figure. He held a white porcelain bowl in his hand, and a sweet, familiar fragrance wafted out.

"Sister made lotus root soup to soothe your heart," Jiang Cheng handed over the bowl, his eyes glancing away somewhat uncomfortably, his tone still carrying his characteristic stiffness, "You don't look too well, drink something cold, I know you're sensitive to heat."

Xie Linyang was slightly taken aback. Looking at the bowl of soup in front of her, which was cooked to perfection, with a rich broth and soft, powdery lotus root, she reached out and took it.

"Thank you very much, Brother Wanyin. You've gone to so much trouble." She smiled gently.

Jiang Cheng coughed lightly, his gaze quickly sweeping across her face before shifting away again: "No need, it's just that my sister is thinking of you." He seemed to want to emphasize that this was just his sister's concern, but his slightly reddened ears betrayed something.

He paused, then couldn't help but ask, with a hint of awkwardness, "Are you... alright? You didn't look too well when you came back from the meeting."

Xie Linyang held the porcelain bowl, warmth spreading from her palms to her heart. She looked up and met Jiang Cheng's eyes, which always seemed sharp but now held a hint of concern, and her heart softened. She naturally wouldn't mention the terrible future the Memory Grass had foreseen, but simply smiled gently, agreeing with his words: "I'm just a little tired. The climate in Qishan is different from Yunmeng, so perhaps I haven't fully adapted yet. I'll be fine after a rest."

She held the bowl and took a small sip. The broth was delicious, the lotus root soft and tender, carrying the taste of home, and also Jiang Yanli's gentleness...

Jiang Cheng watched her sip the soup, and the lines between his brows softened unconsciously. He stood at the doorway, neither leaving nor going inside, as if he just wanted to confirm that she would really drink the soup.

As dusk deepened, the courtyard quieted down, with only the faint sounds of other family disciples drifting from afar.

...

The vast main venue felt even more empty after the crowds dispersed, leaving only scattered cushions, carelessly left-behind items, and dust everywhere. The last rays of the setting sun shone through the gaps in the black cloth tents, illuminating the dust particles dancing in the air.

Wei Wuxian, holding a broom that looked rather clumsy, listlessly swept the ground, sighing, "Alas, to think that I, Wei Wuxian, with my lifelong reputation, have fallen to this state... Lan Zhan, do you think Wen Chao is deliberately targeting me?"

Lan Wangji stood not far away, his posture as upright as a pine tree. Even in that incongruous Wen Clan red robe, he still shone like the bright moon. His gaze calmly swept across the area, ignoring Wei Wuxian's complaints, and he simply said in a low voice, "Northeast corner, the cushions are not back in place."

Wei Wuxian followed his gaze and, sure enough, saw several prayer cushions leaning askew. He pursed his lips, lingered over, and muttered to himself as he straightened them, "Honestly, why do you have such sharp eyesight..."

After tidying up the cushions, he began battling the stubborn stains on the floor, sweeping up dust as he did so. Some dust inevitably drifted towards Lan Wangji's direction.

Lan Wangji frowned slightly, took a half step back without making a sound, and with a gentle flick of his sleeve, a barely perceptible breeze swept away the approaching dust.

Wei Wuxian, with his sharp eyes, caught this little action. His gaze flickered, and a mischievous thought arose. He deliberately swept his brush forcefully towards a thick layer of dust, instantly raising a cloud of gray mist that flew straight towards Lan Wangji's face!

"Oops! Sorry, Lan Zhan, I wasn't paying attention!" He apologized, but his face was full of a mischievous grin.

However, the expected scene of Lan Wangji awkwardly dodging or coldly rebuking did not occur. Lan Wangji stood still, not even the hem of his clothes swaying, but a stronger chill suddenly emanated from his body. The dust that approached seemed to be blocked by an invisible barrier, falling down half a foot away from him.

Wei Wuxian blinked, then awkwardly touched his nose: "...Okay, you're amazing."

Lan Wangji then gave him a cold glance, his eyes seeming to say, "Utterly boring."

Wei Wuxian touched his nose, not feeling embarrassed at all. On the contrary, he found this "living" Lan Wangji much more interesting than his usual ice sculpture appearance. He stopped deliberately causing trouble, but he couldn't stay still either. While cleaning, he started talking to himself again, from complaining about the Wen clan's domineering attitude to commenting on the performance of the disciples of each clan today, and then guessing who would win the archery competition tomorrow. His mouth almost never stopped.

Lan Wangji remained silent throughout, only occasionally offering a brief reminder when he was slacking off or doing something incorrectly. Such reminders were concise, such as "There are miscellaneous items on the southwest side" or "The way you're holding the broom is wrong."

As the sun gradually set, the venue slowly became tidy under Wei Wuxian's dawdling efforts and Lan Wangji's meticulous "supervision." In the empty space, most of the time only Wei Wuxian's voice echoed, along with the rustling sound of a broom sweeping across the floor.

After cleaning the last area, Wei Wuxian tossed the broom aside and stretched lazily without any regard for appearances: "Finally done! Lan Zhan, want to check? I guarantee it meets the standards of your Lan Clan... oh no, I mean the Wen Clan!"

Lan Wangji didn't answer; his gaze slowly swept across the entire venue. Dusk was falling, and the last rays of light illuminated his perfectly sculpted profile, his long eyelashes casting a small shadow beneath his eyes. The venue was indeed very clean, at least on the surface.

After a moment, he withdrew his gaze and looked at Wei Wuxian, still with that cold expression, but it seemed... there was less resistance now.

"Okay." He finally uttered only one word.

Wei Wuxian was taken aback for a moment, then laughed, revealing a set of white teeth: "It's really not easy to get a 'yes' from Young Master Lan!"

Lan Wangji stopped looking at him, turned around, and walked out of the venue first, the hem of his red robe drawing a solitary straight line in the deepening twilight.

Wei Wuxian watched his retreating figure, stroked his chin, and quickly followed. Although he had been punished with hard labor and was forced to wear this ugly red robe, for some reason, his mood wasn't too bad. Perhaps it was because, in this forced solitude, he seemed to have glimpsed a faint, unusual ripple beneath the surface.