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Her gaze sharpened, and her slender fingers abruptly tightened. "Has our Chen Clan prepared a foolproof plan for this calamity?"
Amid the curling sandalwood incense, Chen Zixiu's hand paused as he turned his jadeite thumb ring. "That brings me to the second matter."
A gleam rose in his dark eyes as he looked up. "Xueying... will soon attempt to break through to the Title Douluo realm."
"Ying'er?" Lu Xueqi's normally cool voice suddenly rose, and the beads dangling from her white jade hairpin trembled violently.
She sprang to her feet, her moon-white skirts sweeping scattered glimmers across the floor.
Her fingers unconsciously rubbed the hidden pattern of entwined branches on her cuff, and she seemed to see her little sister as a child again, clutching her clothes and calling her "Elder Sister."
The sisters were seven years apart. She was 121 this year, Lu Xueying was 114, and, well, Zhang Xiaofan was 119.
Memories stirred like bronze bells beneath the eaves startled by the night wind. When their mother had died young, she had wrapped the sobbing Xueying in a brocade quilt, the jasmine scent in her hair seeping into her little sister's dreams.
An eldest sister was like a mother. She had raised Lu Xueying herself, and beside the cold pool, Lu Xueying had always loved tugging at her sleeve and asking her about sword techniques.
Later, disaster had struck the Nine Heavens Sect. To keep her cultivation partner, Zhang Xiaofan, safe, she had been forced to unleash a wind of blood and a rain of slaughter upon the Soul Master World.
On the night before her departure, Xueying had shed her usual innocent playfulness. Stroking the bloody marks on her palm, Lu Xueying had said, "Someone has to keep