With Jing Chenglong's words spoken,
the atmosphere in the room turned heavy, as if a thick cloud had descended.
"Dad... these are just your personal conjectures, right?" Jing Chang finally spoke up, his youthful face still pale with shock. "They're not necessarily true, are they?"
The silence was suffocating, and he couldn't bear it any longer.
Beside him, Jing Ruoqing's brows were tightly furrowed. Her gaze was fixed on her father, clearly disturbed by what had been said.
Seeing his son and daughter reeling from the weight of his thoughts, Jing Chenglong let out two hearty laughs. But his smile didn't quite reach his eyes.
Then, in a softer tone, he said, "Xiao Chang is not wrong—these are merely my personal guesses and should not be taken as absolute truth."
"However..." His gaze darkened slightly. "As for the true situation with the Zhao Family... who, apart from Zhao Wu himself, can truly say whether or not it's as I've described?"
The room once again lapsed into silence, but this time, the weight of those unspoken truths hung palpably in the air.
Three days passed in the blink of an eye.
During this time, the balance of power within Qingshi Town remained, at least outwardly, unchanged. The four major families continued their uneasy coexistence, giving the illusion of stability.
To outsiders, it seemed like a tightly woven web—each family a thread keeping the tension balanced.
But those with deeper insight—leaders of powerful clans and members of the town's upper circle—knew better. They recognized that this delicate equilibrium was unsustainable. The air itself carried a tension too brittle to last.
The calm was a façade, a quiet before the inevitable storm.
No one could say how long the current peace would hold.
Qingshi Town — Luo Family Ancestral Land
In a secluded courtyard where the Luo Family's Patriarch resided,
Luo Changfeng sat cross-legged on the worn stone tiles. Moonlight filtered through the leaves above, casting scattered shadows around him.
Floating in front of him, a translucent golden panel shimmered with faint light—his unique golden finger, the secret that had become his lifeline.
[Name: Luo Changfeng][Lifespan: 2 days+][Cultivation: Bone Refinement Late Stage+（250/300）][Qi-Blood: 1330（-83）(ps: Safe usable Qi-Blood is 50 points!)][Cultivation Technique: Mortal Finest Grade·Fierce Tiger Power (Comprehension: 30%+), Mortal Finest Grade·Feng Ying Steps (Comprehension: 3%+) (Incomplete)]
He inhaled slowly.
Three more days had passed, and for two of those, he had been channeling all his Qi-Blood into cultivation. Each breakthrough came at the cost of his dwindling lifespan.
Now, only two days remained.
Calculating inwardly, Luo Changfeng's thoughts remained calm.
"Fifteen points lost to natural decay over the past three days... one hundred gained from focused cultivation… and today, I've recovered another fifty Qi-Blood naturally."
"That should be enough to push me to Bone Refinement Perfection."
He extended his emaciated right hand—withered from the toll of Qi-Blood depletion—and pressed firmly on the plus sign next to his cultivation level on the hovering panel.
[50 points of Qi-Blood are being deducted…][Cultivation is increasing…]
As the familiar, cold mechanical voice echoed in his mind, Luo Changfeng felt a powerful energy stir within him.
The mysterious force that surged through his veins this time was not like before. It was potent—gentler yet overwhelmingly profound.
His meridians hummed as his bones vibrated with the resonant echo of transformation. Every cell in his body seemed to absorb the power that surged through him.
The force didn't vanish quickly—it lingered, tempering him slowly.
Five long minutes passed.
Only then did the mysterious energy gradually dissipate, leaving behind a new strength that settled deep in his bones.
"Is this… the power of Bone Refinement Perfection?"
Luo Changfeng stood slowly. He looked down at his clenched fists, then infused Qi-Blood into his right arm.
A low roar erupted from within him as he unleashed a full-force punch into the air.
[Whoosh whoosh whoosh—]
The air exploded with piercing whistling winds. Punch wind howled through the courtyard, whipping the leaves from nearby trees and sending dust scattering across the stone path.
He exhaled slowly, his body trembling slightly—not from weakness, but from the aftershock of raw, newfound strength.
It was intoxicating.
And this was only the beginning. He had merely stepped into Bone Refinement Perfection.
What would it feel like… once he reached the Organ Refinement Realm?
How much more powerful could he become?
The thought stirred a burning desire deep within him. His eyes lit up with determination.
Yes—his lifespan had dwindled to a dangerous two days. But so long as he advanced to the next realm and added twenty more years to his life…
He could endure this bitter phase.
Gritting his teeth, Luo Changfeng steadied his breathing.
He opened his panel once more.
[Name: Luo Changfeng!][Lifespan: 2 days+][Cultivation: Bone Refinement Perfection+（0/500）][Qi-Blood: 1330（-133）（ps: The safe usable Qi-Blood is 0 points!）][Cultivation Technique: Mortal Finest – Fierce Tiger Vigor (Comprehension: 30%+), Mortal Finest – Feng Ying Steps (Comprehension: 3%+) (Incomplete)]
He studied the new numbers without emotion.
"To reach Organ Refinement, I'll need 500 Qi-Blood…"
"If I rely on 50 points of natural recovery each day, I'll need ten days."
"But accounting for the daily decay of 5 points…"
"Eleven days. At least."
A quiet resolve settled over his heart.
"Endure it… just a bit more."
Night fell deep and quiet.
A full moon hung in the sky, silver and cold.
Its light bathed the Luo Family estate in a gentle glow, softening the shadows and bringing a kind of quiet comfort to the land.
To most people in this world, nights like this were a blessing—when the moon was full and the stars bright, casting light over darkness.
But not for Luo Ping.
The current Patriarch of the Luo Family stood rigidly outside a room in the clan compound, the silver light falling across his furrowed brows.
To him, nights like this were the cruelest.
"How is she?"
His voice was low, almost hoarse, as he spoke to the Luo Family's private physician.
The doctor looked tired—his robe disheveled, hands still stained with traces of herbal residue. He met Luo Ping's gaze and sighed.
"Family Head… I've done everything in my ability to ease the young lady's pain…"
"But?" Luo Ping's voice tightened immediately.
The doctor hesitated. His fingers clenched and unclenched by his side. Then he exhaled slowly and said, "But for some reason… every method I've tried is becoming less effective."
"The girl's pain is worsening. Each full moon seems to unravel the balance a bit more."
"If this continues…"
His voice trailed off, but Luo Ping already knew.
Still, he asked anyway, forcing the words out.
"If this continues, then what?"
The doctor looked away. "Then… the next full moon might be more than the young lady can bear."
"She may not survive the night."
The words, once spoken, hung like an executioner's blade.
The doctor offered a solemn bow, then left in silence.
Left alone, Luo Ping turned to the closed door. From within came the muffled sound of suppressed sobs—pain choked back, endured in silence.
Each sound cut deeper than any sword.
His face twisted—not in anger, but in guilt.
Bitter, choking guilt.
He was the Family Head of the Luo Clan.
He wielded power. Commanded respect.
And yet, when it came to protecting his own daughter… he was helpless.
Utterly, painfully helpless.
He stood there, rooted beneath the moonlight, as the cries continued behind the door—each one a cruel reminder of his powerlessness.
And the full moon above offered no mercy.
Only cold, silent judgment.