The Mad Ҡìղց

Warm milk

A week passed, and the celebration showed no signs of ending. The Yunmeng clan remained welcoming, carefully avoiding any actions that could spark conflict among the clans. They were known for being rigid rule followers, which Wen Xu found stifling.

"They're so boring, always sticking to the rules," Wen Xu sighed in frustration.

"Don't cause trouble, just keep your head down," Wen Ruohan cautioned. His gaze shifted to Wen Qing, his daughter. "Any luck with the Lan boys?" he asked.

"Not yet, Father. They're polite and distant, but I'm working on it. They don't talk much, but I'm getting closer to their sister. Once I gain her trust, they'll open up," Wen Qing explained confidently.

"Good," Wen Ruohan responded, nodding in approval before turning to his sons. "You two, head to town. Keep your ears to the ground, your mouth shut and find out what people are saying."

"Yes, Father," they answered in unison, bowing deeply before leaving the room.

Wen Ruohan exhaled slowly, his mind occupied with the clan's plans. "Wen Qing, focus on Ayana. Make her talk more about her brothers and their connection to magic."

"Yes, Father," Wen Qing said, bowing once more before departing to the great hall.

With his children carrying out their respective tasks, Wen Ruohan was determined to stay ahead of the other clans. He knew that gaining the Lan siblings' trust was the key to uncovering secrets that would strengthen the Wen clan's position, and he had faith that his children would succeed.

"Wanji, are you okay? You seemed distracted since morning," Ayana asked as they sat for dinner in the great hall.

"Yes, I'm fine. Just tired. Can't we be served in our chambers?"

"No, we can't. This is normal procedure for the treaty," Lan Xichen replied, his tone calm but firm.

Dinner was served as usual, and everyone ate to their fill.

Nie Huaisang, playful as always, crawled over to where Lan Wanji sat and whispered, "We're having late-night drinks and snacks in Master Cheng's private hall. Do you want to join us?"

Wanji shook his head with a polite smile. "Thank you for the invitation, but I'll have to decline."

Nie raised an eyebrow, but before he could press further, Ayana leaned in. "I'll make him come," she whispered with a grin. Nie chuckled, nodding in approval, then crawled back to his seat, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, the slaves were gathered, speaking in low tones. Yet amidst their hushed conversation, Wei Ying stood apart, his mind clearly elsewhere. His hollow eyes were fixed on the kitchen entrance, an invisible weight pulling him down as the other slaves worked around him. His gaunt face bore the marks of sleepless nights and unspoken fears. One of the slaves nudged him roughly, bringing him back to the present. "Wei Ying, are you okay?" the slave asked, concern tinged with impatience.

Wei Ying didn't respond, his gaze still glued to the entrance. He hadn't eaten a bite since morning, his mind consumed by a gnawing dread. "Why do you keep staring at the entrance since breakfast?" the slave asked again, pressing for an answer.

Just as Wei Ying opened his mouth to speak, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hall. His body tensed. He whispered under his breath, "They are here to kill me." Without another word, he dove under the table, his breath shallow, heart pounding in his chest.

The door swung open, and a joyous voice filled the air. "Wei Ying!"

He peeked out from his hiding spot and sighed in relief when he saw the familiar figure of Young Master Nie walking into the kitchen, his face lit with a warm smile. Wei Ying slowly rose to his feet, forcing a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Young Master Nie," he greeted, his voice flat and unconvincing.