The atmosphere inside the Xiao Clan's great hall was taut enough to hum. Sunlight slanted through the carved windows, throwing narrow beams across the polished floor. Elders sat stiff in their chairs, expressions ranging from displeasure to guarded interest. In the center, Xiao Zhan's voice was steady but edged, holding the formal weight of a clan leader faced with insult.
Tianzun stood just inside the threshold, hands clasped loosely behind his back. His presence was calm but deliberate — not a bystander, not yet a participant. Beside him, Xun'er's gaze moved between the two figures at the center of the hall: Xiao Zhan and the young woman in the ornate cyan robes of the Yunlan Sect.
Nalan Yanran.
Her beauty was undeniable, but there was a chill in the way she stood, chin lifted, as if the weight of her sect's status hung invisibly at her shoulders. The conversation — exactly as in the original tale — was already deep into its thorny terrain. She spoke the same words Tianzun remembered from the story: respectful on the surface, but each syllable carrying the blade of her intent to sever the engagement with Xiao Yan.
Xiao Yan stood before her, jaw tight, his voice low and clipped in reply. The canonical lines fell between them like iron weights: her justification about her future, the "unsuitability" of their match, the reputation of her sect. Xiao Zhan's restraint strained against his rising anger; the elders shifted uncomfortably at the implication.
Tianzun did not interfere — not yet. His mind measured the cadence of every word, noting where Xiao Yan's pride burned against his humiliation, where Nalan Yanran's confidence wavered almost imperceptibly when she looked directly at him.
Xun'er's fingers twitched at her side, a sign Tianzun had come to recognize. She wanted to speak, to defend Xiao Yan — but she respected the unspoken current here: this was Xiao Yan's storm to weather.
When the conversation reached that familiar point — Nalan Yanran producing the dissolution letter — the temperature in the room seemed to drop. Xiao Yan's hands clenched at his sides, the canonical defiance rising in his voice exactly as Tianzun had read it in the threads of fate.
"You may dissolve the engagement," Xiao Yan said, "but you must win it first."
Gasps rippled through the hall, elders murmuring. Nalan Yanran's lips curved faintly — a mix of surprise and something sharper — before she accepted the challenge with that same confidence history had recorded.
Through it all, Tianzun's expression remained unreadable, but his eyes tracked every shift in posture, every flicker of pride or fear. He was not here to change this outcome — not yet — but to understand how the threads tied together, how Xiao Yan's choices would reverberate.
As the meeting broke apart, elders leaving in tense murmurs, Tianzun caught the briefest glance from Xun'er. It wasn't the wide-eyed gaze she had for Xiao Yan's defiance, but a quieter, sharper one aimed only at him: *I know you're watching this for more than family loyalty.*
He didn't deny it.
Outside the hall, Xiao Yan's steps were quick, his posture straight despite the weight of what had just been decided. Tianzun let the silence stretch for a dozen paces before speaking.
"That," Tianzun said, "was the first step. The hardest ones always look like the most humiliating."
Xiao Yan exhaled once, the heat of his temper not yet cooled, but his eyes flicked sideways in brief gratitude.
Xun'er fell into step beside them, her presence softening the hard edges of the moment. "three years," she said quietly. "We'll make sure you're ready."
Tianzun glanced at both of them, the faintest curve touching his mouth. "Ready is a choice, not a gift. Tomorrow, the real training begins."
The three of them walked on, the courtyard stretching ahead under the pale sky. Somewhere in the distance, the sect's shadow guards were already moving, invisible to all but Tianzun. The board was set. The next game was beginning.
**End of Chapter 57 — Ripples in the Hall, Shadows in the Mind**