Deep within the imperial palace lies the Ziwei Terrace.
Unlike other palaces that are lush with flowers and filled with servants, this place has only one master, the official Chu Xinglan.
At the highest point of the palace, three stories above, there is a small open-air platform.
It was the very astrological table she usually used, but it was nowhere near as good as the one that had already collapsed.
Chu Xinglan sat quietly in front of the stone table in the center of the platform, her gaze fixed on a cup of tea in front of her.
Without warning, a rapid ripple spread across the smooth, mirror-like surface of the tea soup.
Suddenly, I raised my head and looked up at the vast sky.
Tonight, the stars are dazzling, adorning the dark jade plate, but the moonlight is dim and obscured by a thin layer of clouds.
Just as the starlight was at its brightest, a strange, blood-red light flashed across the western sky, so fast that it seemed like an illusion.
Chu Xinglan frowned, deep in thought.
The tea on the table rippled more and more rapidly with her emotions, the surface of the water trembling violently, as if an unseen hand was stirring it. Finally, the surface returned to calm, but a thin veil of white mist rose up, making the clear tea water hazy and unable to reflect any image.
An indescribable feeling of stagnation welled up in Chu Xinglan's heart, and her fingertips unconsciously tightened.
In that instant when the crimson light flashed, she seemed to have caught a crucial glimmer of inspiration.
But like a shooting star streaking across the darkness, it vanishes in an instant and can never be caught again.
His chest rose and fell slightly, and his fists, hidden in the wide sleeves of his robe, clenched quietly.
This was a huge upheaval for Chu Xinglan, who was usually aloof and self-possessed.
She had already sensed the source of the interruption and stood up angrily.
The next moment, her figure vanished silently from the observatory.
In the early autumn nights of Fengjing, a chill is rising, but it cannot dispel the lively atmosphere of the street stalls.
Next to a wonton stall, there was a carrying pole selling candied hawthorns and steaming hot braised pork buns.
The dim lanterns swayed in the night breeze, illuminating the busy figures of the stall owners.
The caramelized sweetness of the melted syrup, the rich savory aroma of the braised meat, the deliciousness of the bone broth, and the unique wheat fragrance of the charcoal-grilled noodles all warmly enveloped the passersby.
A middle-aged man squatted undignifiedly on a bench, with several empty bowls and plates in front of him.
He was holding a bowl of piping hot wontons, slurping them up while sweating profusely.
A few oil stains stained his clothes, and a few stray hairs were stuck to his forehead with sweat, making him look even more disheveled.
"Ah..." He exhaled a satisfied breath, casually wiping away sweat with his sleeve.
"Fengjing is still the best. The climate is comfortable, and the food is excellent, but it's a bit expensive."
He muttered to himself, "Living in Fengjing is no easy feat."
Chu Xinglan's figure appeared beside him like a ghost, her gaze sweeping over the bench next to him, where a worn patchwork jacket was casually draped.
The man before her was none other than Jiang Wuyai, the current sect leader of the Tianyan Sect, and also her senior brother.
"Who is it?" Chu Xinglan's voice was cold and emotionless.
Jiang Wuyai didn't even look up, continuing to eat the wontons in his bowl, and mumbled, "Yan Wujiu, Yang Wuhui."
After swallowing, he pursed his lips, too lazy to even call him "senior brother".
Sigh, he's such a terrible sect leader of the Tianyan Sect, he can't even muster the slightest bit of authority.
"Where?" Chu Xinglan pressed.
"Xuanwu North Road is not far from the border, it's hiding in a remote mountain valley."
Why not bring it back?
"Heh," Jiang Wuyai scoffed, putting down his bowl and glancing at her sideways, "That's enough, are you interrogating a criminal?"
"What we promised you was to find out who did it, but we didn't say we'd also be responsible for arresting them. That's a separate price."
Chu Xinglan took a deep breath, suppressing her surging emotions: "How can you prove that what you say is true?"
"Heh," Jiang Wuyai sneered disdainfully, "Although Yan has touched the Divine Martial Realm, since I have already tracked down his whereabouts, if we work together to deduce it, we should be able to verify it with a high degree of accuracy, right?"
Chu Xinglan's heart sank. Yan Wujiu had actually stepped into the Divine Martial Realm?
Without the "Three Plates" inherited from a sect or the core teachings, it is no easy feat for this person to reach this level; his talent is indeed remarkable.
Now that the goal is clear and it's not aimless deduction, the difficulty has been greatly reduced.
The senior brother's suggestion to work together to deduce the truth was not to help her verify it, but rather to pave the way for future events.
Chu Xinglan said no more, and an obscure and incomprehensible fluctuation instantly rose around her.
Centered on her, the surrounding hustle and bustle of the city, the flickering lights, and even the lingering heat seemed to freeze briefly.
Seeing this, Jiang Wuyai quickly finished the rest of the wontons in a few bites and wiped his mouth haphazardly.
He put away his lazy demeanor, straightened his posture, and formed a hand seal, from which an equally profound aura rose.
The auras of the human and earthly realms subtly resonated, forming a mysterious connection with Chu Xinglan's power.
Like invisible threads weaving into a net, it probes into the unknown causes and effects.
Through their combined deductions, the details of Yan Wujiu's assassination attempt flashed like shattered glass, eventually becoming clear and discernible.
However, when Chu Xinglan tried to uncover more of the connections behind it all, she was suddenly enveloped in a thick, impenetrable fog.
Just as she concentrated her inner energy, trying to forcefully break through the layer of mist, Jiang Wuyai suddenly withdrew his power, and the connection was instantly severed.
"Junior sister," Jiang Wuyai clapped his hands, his smile returning to his face.
"I've kept my promise and found out who did it. Now, it's your turn to fulfill yours, isn't it?"
Chu Xinglan remained silent; she knew she couldn't refuse.
If I refuse now, given this senior's vengeful nature, there will undoubtedly be endless trouble afterwards. Moreover…
Deep down, she also wanted to find out who the "Heavenly Plate" truly recognized as its master.
"good."
Finally, the cold words came out of her lips.
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