127. Those are nothing but delusions.

The night was thick and heavy, as dark as aged ink. Mo Yuhua looked up at the moonless sky, his brow furrowed in deep distress. From the guest room behind him came a series of loud bangs, and each time he glanced back, his frown only deepened.

"Mo Yan, you old bastard, let me out!" The voice was raw and desperate, filled with unbearable indignation, followed by the sound of objects shattering against the floor.

Mo Yuhua sighed. He toyed with the folding fan in his hand, then with an indecipherable expression, pulled a copper key from his waist. With a sharp click, he unlocked the door. But as soon as it cracked open—

A dark shadow surged forward with a sudden, whistling force!

Mo Yuhua stepped back and tilted his head. A teacup flew past his temple, struck the wooden pillar of the corridor, and shattered into pieces. His gaze darkened as he stared at the shards. Pushing the door fully open, he was met with the dim, flickering light of an oil lamp, which made his eyes sting.

He blinked reflexively, his gaze sharpening like a sword as he fixed his eyes on the defiant man in the room. "Feng Lizhi, if you still want to get out of here, you would do well to behave yourself!"

Feng Lizhi was beside himself with rage. Even now, he lifted his chin, his face etched with supreme arrogance. "Behave? How laughable. You and your father kidnap me, yet you demand I behave? Mo Yuhua, let me tell you, even if the sky falls, don't dream of me telling you the secret of the Hundred-Change Willow-Whisk Hammer Technique!"

Hearing this, Mo Yuhua pulled the door shut behind him. His eyelids lowered, casting shifting shadows across his face. "I have no interest in your Feng family's technique..."

"Hmph," Feng Lizhi interrupted with a cold sneer. "Who would believe you? If you didn't covet it, why would I be in your house?"

Mo Yuhua sighed again. Avoiding the debris scattered across the floor, he sat down at the table, his fan spinning rhythmically in his hand. "Believe it or not, there are some things I will only explain once."

He looked at Feng Lizhi, his expression unusually solemn. "Five years ago, I did not frame you. I have never betrayed the friendship we once shared. Even today, your confinement here in the Mo estate is solely my father's doing. He received word from Mo Geyi to extract the technique from you. I intend to help you, so please, just endure this for a few days."

The mockery in the corners of Feng Lizhi’s eyes slowly faded. He stared back at Mo Yuhua, torn between whether he should trust him again.

In truth, among the three young masters of Yizhou, he and Mo Yuhua had been the closest. As for Gu Min, he had always tried to integrate himself but remained on the periphery. However, at an ink-tasting gathering five years ago, Feng Lizhi had been too brilliant, and as he turned, someone pushed him into a pool. It was the dead of winter, and Mo Yuhua had been the only one by his side. Although he was rescued, his fingers had nearly frozen, and he had almost lost the ability to craft ink for the rest of his life. He had never doubted that Mo Yuhua was the culprit; there had been no third person present, and overnight, they had become bitter enemies. For years, he had despised Mo Yuhua’s hypocrisy, confronting him at every turn.

"Shall I go speak to your grandfather to see if there's a way to get you out safely?" Mo Yuhua mused, though he shook his head almost immediately. "No, that won't do. It would only make the Feng family a target."

Feng Lizhi remained silent. He leaned against the bedpost, arms crossed, waiting to see what game Mo Yuhua was playing. If he was still trying to win his trust to steal the technique, he would prove with cold, hard facts that such thoughts were mere delusions.

Mo Yuhua did not grow impatient at the lack of response. The rift between them had not formed in a day, and he did not expect a few words to mend it. "Lizhi, in your opinion, who in Yizhou could help you right now?" he asked calmly.

Feng Lizhi had not intended to answer, but at the mention of help, the image of Gu Fei’s jade-white face flashed through his mind. After a long pause, he whispered, "Gu Fei."

At these words, Mo Yuhua’s fan dropped onto the table with a thud. He looked at him, startled. "Lizhi, why would you think of Ah Fei?"

Feng Lizhi gave a self-deprecating laugh, wearing an "I knew it" expression. "Stop with the fake righteousness. I know what you're after!"

Mo Yuhua frowned again. Ignoring the accusation, he stood up and said gravely, "I never intended to involve Ah Fei. But if you insist that I go to her, I will."

Mo Yuhua’s tone carried a clear note of protectiveness that made Feng Lizhi deeply uncomfortable; it sounded as if only Mo Yuhua was capable of caring for her. He curled his lip in disdain. Knowing Feng Lizhi had nothing more to say, Mo Yuhua left, but not before adding a final warning: "Stay calm, so that my father will lower his guard."

This made Feng Lizhi burst into laughter, tears welling in his eyes. "Mo Yuhua, do you dare defy your father? Do you? You've always prided yourself on being a man of honor, yet when he told you to marry Gu Wanting, you did so without a word of protest. Why are you acting like a submissive dog now?"

The biting words did not change Mo Yuhua's expression. He walked to the door, opened it, and looked back at Feng Lizhi. "Lizhi, you are not me. There were many things I chose to obey him on before because I believed his decisions were right, and that I owed sacrifices to my family. But now, having learned the truth, I realize he is wrong. Naturally, I no longer feel the need to follow blindly."

"Lizhi, as children of our families, with our ancestors' blood in our veins, there are many things you cannot escape. I am the same, and so are you..."

His soft words dissipated into the night air. The chill seeped through his clothes and into his bones, leaving no warmth to be found. Feng Lizhi watched as Mo Yuhua’s silhouette disappeared into the shifting shadows, as if he were being swallowed by a giant beast called "Family"—a beast he had walked into willingly.

He chewed on Mo Yuhua’s words for a long time, unable to snap out of his stupor. It was a long, restless night, and sleep never came.

Mo Yuhua rose early the next morning. He watched the servants deliver breakfast to Feng Lizhi’s room, inquired about Mo Yan’s whereabouts, and slipped out of the estate at the first opportunity. His heart trembled; he was stirred by the prospect of seeing Gu Fei, yet buried deep within was an anxious trepidation. He wanted to see her, but dreaded her cold, cutting words.

Ah Fei? Surely she should still be as soft and endearing as she once was.

Mo Yuhua’s hopes were destined to be disappointed. As he stepped into the peach grove, he saw Gu Fei sitting beneath a tree, examining an ink pellet in her hand. Her almond-shaped eyes were narrowed, her pupils dark and clear, contrasting sharply with the whites of her eyes, and her pale pink gown stood out against the lush green of the peach trees like a painting of cinnabar and ink. It was a sight that made it impossible to look away.

Noticing his approach, Gu Fei looked up. Her hand paused. With a blank expression, she said coldly, "What is it?"

A string in Mo Yuhua’s heart seemed to vibrate at the sound of her voice. He forced a smile and said directly, "Lizhi asked me to come to you."