"Tell me everything that has happened lately, in detail. Especially anything concerning that little fellow Xiao Qian."
Nalan Su had barely stepped into Nalan Jie's room and had not even finished bending to pay his respects when he heard the Old Master's voice, tinged with urgency.
His heart gave a sudden jolt, as though an invisible hand had seized it.
Why was the Old Master so concerned about Xiao Qian? It seemed there was more to this than met the eye. Beneath that calm surface, things were far from simple.
"Yes, Father."
Nalan Su hurriedly nodded in deference, a barely perceptible tremor in his voice.
He carefully approached the old man's bedside and slowly sat down.
After gathering his thoughts, he began recounting everything that had happened recently, leaving nothing out.
From Nalan Yanran's everyday dealings with Xiao Qian, those seemingly ordinary interactions with their subtle undercurrents, to the disputes over who should receive the pills, then the approaching Imperial Capital Hunting Competition and Nalan Yanran's unusual trust in Xiao Qian, he went through every detail.
Nalan Jie sat quietly propped against the headboard with his eyes closed, his body as motionless as an ancient statue.
His breathing was steady and deep, making it impossible to tell whether he had taken in anything Nalan Su said.
Only Nalan Su's low voice echoed slowly through the room. The atmosphere was quiet yet oppressive, as though an invisible pall hung over them.
Just as Nalan Su decided that the Old Master had fallen asleep while listening in his old age, and rose carefully to slip away, Nalan Jie's tightly closed eyes suddenly opened without warning. A flash of lightning seemed to streak through his cloudy pupils.
His gaze was so sharp it seemed almost tangible, piercing straight into Nalan Su's heart. Nalan