Night hung heavy as water-soaked cloth. Chen Wuya withdrew his fingers from the edge of the sketch on the ground and slowly straightened. He did not look again at the wooden peg planted at the crack's location. Instead, he turned and walked into the house, his steps light and steady.
Bai Zhi had already settled the two children onto cushions in the middle of the main hall. Chen Xuan sat with his eyes wide open, his little hand clutching his trouser leg. Chen Yao leaned against her brother's shoulder, her lashes trembling as if she were half asleep. Hearing footsteps, she suddenly looked up. Only when she saw her father did she let out a breath.
"Dad, are you still going to Soul-Ending Cliff?" Chen Xuan asked.
Chen Wuya did not answer. He merely crouched down, reached out to stroke the boy's head, then took both children's hands and pressed their palms against his. In that instant, he could feel their pulses—thin and faint, yet strong.
Mo Feng stood at the corner of the courtyard, tightening the final mechanism gear. He looked up at the translucent screen gradually emerging in the middle of the yard. Blue light flickered across his face.
"It's begun," he said.
Chen Wuya closed his eyes and silently recited, "Activate Misaligned Practice Inheritance Mode."
The light screen unfolded. Data streamed across it like a brook before finally stopping on the name [Thirteen Reverse Meridian Forms]. A system prompt appeared: [Target meridians are unopened. Path reconstruction recommended.]
The corner of his mouth lifted. "If the straight road won't work, take the crooked one."
His fingertip lightly tapped the air as he silently worked through the principles of Misaligned Force—defying convention, breaking things down in reverse, bypassing the main meridians and using the fine channels of the limbs