Deep beneath a secluded patch of ruins in Nan Gu Town, inside a stone room less than ten square meters in size.
Miao Qiuping, Uncle Fan, and Lian Hesheng were still hiding there, barely getting by.
During that time, Uncle Fan had secretly gone out once to contact some loyal old Miao Clan followers scattered among the common folk. But with the time not yet ripe to rise up, they could only continue to endure in silence.
Unable to accept the blow of his only son Lian Ankang's death and the severing of his bloodline, Lian Hesheng had spent the past few days curled up dazedly in a corner, utterly dejected and forlorn.
Neither Miao Qiuping nor Uncle Fan tried to console him. Their tangled grudges made it difficult for them to decide how to deal with this "prisoner beneath the steps."
As usual, the three occupied separate corners of the stone chamber, with little sound coming from within.
The despondent Lian Hesheng lay sprawled in a corner, cobwebs hanging all over him, yet he paid them no mind. His lifeless eyes stared at the Ancestral Tablet he had tossed aside in the corner.
Looking at the dust covering the tablet, he seemed, in a daze, to see his own colorless life reflected there. For a time, he was lost, unable to understand why he should go on living.
No one knew how long the oppressive silence lasted.
Suddenly, a faint glow emanated from the dim Ancestral Tablet.
Lian Hesheng's bleak eyes instantly lit up. As though he had sensed some earth-shattering event, he scrambled and crawled to the tablet, rapidly wiping away the dust with both hands.
When he saw a faint bloodline spreading beneath the square of essence blood belonging to his son, Lian Ankang, he suddenly burst