Days pass into weeks and in exactly three days, the conference will begin.
Lan Qiren is perplexed because, number one, Cangse Sanren is still heavily pregnant and showing no signs of giving birth yet, which means, number two, the children are still in secluded meditation, and that means, number three, whoever is after the Yin Iron will be coming here, to Cloud Recesses, and they're no closer to destroying the evil artefact.
Everything is up in the air with no clear end in sight, and he's stressed. He stomps past the pink and red wild roses on his way to the guest house, itching under his skin with the growing warmth.
Summer in Gusu is a magnificent season, the air ripe with summer storms and hot, humid nights. Cloud Recesses is bursting into life, as if it hasn't just turned the corner past the winter's clutches. Song birds warble greeting at Lan Qiren, and if he didn't have so much on his mind, he might have stopped to listen to what is, on any other day, a pleasant chirping melody. Magpies hop from branch to branch, cackling every now and then, while squirrels scamper underneath huge boughs laden with green lush leaves. Truly, mountain scenery is breathtaking and lively.
It is the height of summer, and the sun's rays are strong enough to cut through any early morning mists, leaving the bluest skies bereft of any clouds. It's already so warm, and it isn't even midday yet.
Lan Qiren discreetly waves his billowing sleeves around, trying to fan his face and wondering why one of the rules includes wearing six layers ALL the time. Sweat pools at the base of his spine as he slows down, seeking the shelter of the trees.
There's an increased pressure in the air, a rising tension that grates on his skin, rendering him unable to sleep at night, nor rest during the day. Lan Qiren much prefers the long winter months when layers can be added instead. The predictability of autumn followed by winter never fails to reassure him about the steadiness of his homeland. In comparison, summer is just too full of discomfort for him. But it's not just the weather.
Could this unnatural anticipation be a direct result of housing the Yin Iron? Even though it is suppressed deep under water in lead trunks, in their Lan secret hideaway no less, could it still be emitting waves of Resentment energy?
Now that he's noticed it, the unrest that seemed to be targeting just him feels stretched out, like an elastic band pulled too tightly, affecting anyone who comes within its range. Just the other day, he had heard Lan Ching shouting at someone, forgetting himself.
It's not just him; come to think of it, Lan Qiren sees a pattern evolving through short tempers and barely concealed annoyances, people usually calm and happy displaying the strangest about turn instead.
However much he wishes it wasn't so, his instincts tell him otherwise, that the solution, the answer is right in front of him.
Added to all of this is his certainty that while the Cloud Recesses is so vulnerable right now, he doesn't want strangers poking around into things they have no business meddling in. He has no idea who else could know enough about the Yin Iron to want to pursue it, except for someone who must have seen it in action. All fingers point to Wen Ruohan's disciples, possibly even a disgruntled fan of the former Chief Cultivator looking for vengeance. Or, seeking to replace his or her master.
That is a chilling thought.
Who could have gained Wen Ruohan's trust enough for the Wen Sect Leader to show his hand? And if it wasn't on purpose, then who had the courage to go looking for trouble? To spy on the Chief Cultivator? To find out all of his secrets? A trespass that would no doubt merit a quick and ugly death.
As Lan Qiren knocks on the door of the guest house, he hopes he's right in his guess. The sun warms his back in the few seconds it takes for Wei Changze to open the door, welcoming him in.
