Qian Daoliu stepped half a pace forward, his gaze blazing, his voice carrying an added weight that brooked no doubt. "Then it is time for you to consider accepting the Angel God's trial."
Qian Renxue's eyelashes trembled lightly.
Qian Daoliu's gaze never left her face, taking in that fleeting, subtle reaction.
"Xue'er." His voice softened somewhat, but none of its solemnity diminished. "Tell Grandfather, when do you intend to begin?"
Qian Renxue was silent for a moment.
She raised her head and looked at the Angel God Statue before her, one she had seen since childhood. Its six wings spread wide, its face compassionate yet majestic, overlooking everything within the hall—and overlooking her more than ten years of endurance and struggle.
"Grandfather," she said softly, every word nonetheless clear, "actually... I have been ready for a long time."
A light flashed in Qian Daoliu's eyes, bright as the beacon glimpsed at last by someone who had waited too long for the way home.
But he said nothing. He was waiting for her to finish.
"All these years in the Heaven Dou Empire, I have been waiting for this day every moment." Qian Renxue's voice was calm, as though she were recounting something that had nothing to do with her, yet something stirred faintly in the depths of her cold eyes.
"I disguised myself as Xue Qinghe, learned to smile like him, speak like him, and look at every minister who needed winning over with those gentle eyes of his.
"I spent more than ten years in that palace, playing someone else every day. Sometimes, I nearly forgot who I really was."
She raised her hand and looked down at her palm. That hand had once held the imperial seal of the Heaven Dou Empire, reviewed countless memorials, and poisoned Xue