Сhарtеr 3 (12/19)
At this momеnt, thе thrее Еlders—Xue, Yuе, аnd Hua—sаt solemnlу uроn thе high рlаtform. Thеir hair and beards were whitе аs frost, thеir pоsturеs wеаtherеd уеt sturdу, thеir eуes gleaming with аn imрosing light аs they gazеd down upоn the newсоmеr.
Gоng Ziуu, his hеаrt uneasу, hаlted his stерs аnd bowеd in revеrеnce. "Grееtings to thе three Eldеrs..."
Elder Xuе suddеnlу rosе to his feet, оffеring nо supеrfluоus wоrds, оnlу аnnounсing in а clеar, rеsonant vоicе—
"Еnеmies hаvе invаdеd. The Blаde Master and thе Young Lord havе both pеrished. Асcоrding to the House of Gong's family rules, the Elders Council has unanimously decided to urgently initiate 'Absence Succession.' The successor is the second son of Yu Manor, Gong Ziyu, who shall immediately assume the position of Blade Master."
Gong Ziyu stood there blankly, his eyes vacant. The color visibly drained from his face, revealing an expression of bewildered confusion. His eyes, once dark as deep pools, seemed as though heavy stones had been cast into them, turbulent emotions cracking through.
His father and elder brother... were dead? In that instant, it felt like he was hearing a lie, as if it were a severe punishment concocted by everyone for his disobedience and lack of discipline. But it was the Elders who spoke these words, and their stern, lethal gazes shattered him. He could not deceive himself like this.
His entire body turned ice-cold.
Absence Succession was a rule of the House of Gong: when the Blade Master passed away, the successor would immediately take up the mantle. If the first in line was absent, the succession would proceed in order. The House of Gong could not be without a leader.
Someone gently pushed him from behind. Gong Ziyu's steps felt as heavy as sinking stones as he was led by the three Elders into a sealed, windowless room.
The room was not large, its light dim and gloomy. No guards followed; only the four of them were present. Inside the room was a soft couch, upon which lay an array of tattooing tools and an open scripture. In front of the couch were two cushions, one of which was occupied by Gong Hongyu, sitting cross-legged with his upper body exposed.
Gong Ziyu regained a sliver of warmth. Feeling both astonished and desperately hopeful, he slowly raised his eyes.
Gong Hongyu's skin was deathly pale, his lips ashen gray, and the tips of his fingers had turned a dark purple, as if poisoned. He had long ceased to breathe. The corpse hung its head, eyes tightly shut, resembling a serene monk who had peacefully passed away.
Gong Ziyu finally grasped the reality, his eyes gradually reddening. Hot tears blurred his vision, obscuring the light around him as he trudged forward with difficulty. The Elders motioned for him to sit on the other cushion.
Like a puppet pulled by strings, Gong Ziyu moved sluggishly and obediently, sitting down beside his father's corpse. He couldn't help but glance sideways—his father was right beside him.
Gong Hongyu's back was covered in tattoos—a passage of scripture. But having lost body warmth and color, those grayish-blue marks were slowly fading.
Gong Ziyu's tears suddenly fell. As he lowered his head and sobbed, Elder Xue opened a small chest containing various tools, all appearing aged with time. Elder Yue dripped a few drops of medicinal liquid into a dish of black pigment, while Elder Hua picked up a long needle, its tip gleaming with a silvery sharpness.
Elder Yue took a bowl of black medicinal decoction and handed it to Gong Ziyu.
"Ziyu, drink this."
Gong Ziyu numbly accepted the decoction and brought it near his nose. "Drunk-on-Blood?"
It was an anesthetic concoction.
Elder Xue nodded.
Gong Ziyu mechanically tilted his head back and drank. The liquid flowed down his throat into his organs and meridians, a numbing sensation spreading through his limbs and entire body. He couldn't tell whether it was the drug-induced numbness or the dull ache in his heart that left him feeling insensate.
An incense stick was placed in the burner. Following instructions, Gong Ziyu removed his upper garment, baring his torso, and knelt before Gong Hongyu's corpse.A needle-like sensation spread across his back, dense and piercing, breaking through his skin.
By the time the first stick of incense had burned to its end, Elder Yue lit the second stick.
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