All gone.

Mo Fei has returned!

Ten years—Mo Yuhua had imagined countless ways he might learn of Mo Fei's whereabouts again, but he never expected it would be under such blazing sunlight, spoken from Mo Cheng's lips.

In that instant, he felt as if the fiery sun had crashed into a layer of ice thousands of years old; what fell upon his head was a cold that chilled him to the bone, draining all color from Mo Cheng’s pale face with its black beard.

He could hardly believe what he heard. “She’s back…”

Mo Cheng glanced at him with shadowed, inscrutable eyes, his whole body exuding an ominous darkness.

“Where is she?” Mo Yuhua pressed on, his voice trembling, vision flickering white, the hand hidden in his sleeve shaking uncontrollably. “Where is she?”

He repeated himself, voice suddenly sharp and distorted.

Mo Cheng did not answer. He flung his sleeve angrily and strode away before everyone.

“Fifth Uncle!” Mo Yuhua’s shout startled the crowd; his handsome face was no longer radiant as before, his gaze dark and uncertain. Without hesitation, he chased after him.

Meanwhile, Gu Fei had obediently returned to the Huang family, making no unnecessary moves, appearing as though she had resigned herself to cooperating with Huang Pinyuan, her emotions unreadable.

Huang Pinyuan returned home only as dusk gathered. Pride swelled in his heart, making his steps light, and upon entering, he summoned the steward to inquire about Gu Fei before swaggering toward her small courtyard.

Gu Fei had set up a chessboard beneath the eaves. With no pieces at hand, she stared unblinking at the board, as if playing a game in her mind.

Huang Pinyuan cleared his throat, cheeks flushed from wine. “Miss Gu, your skills are truly extraordinary—even Mo Yuhua is not your match. The younger generation really is formidable!”

He laughed heartily at his own words.

Gu Fei ignored him, pretending not to hear, continuing to study the remnants of the chess game, unmoved by Huang Pinyuan’s flowery praise.

After a few lackluster remarks met with silence, Huang Pinyuan felt bored and annoyed. Today, the Huang family had stolen the spotlight at the Ink Tournament. Everyone addressed him respectfully as “Master Huang,” but now, facing Gu Fei’s indifference, he felt increasingly slighted.

He snorted coldly, flung his sleeve, a flash of malice crossing his face. If not for Gu Fei being his golden goose, he would have taught her a lesson.

As the twilight shimmered in her dark eyes, Gu Fei spoke mockingly just as Huang Pinyuan was about to leave the courtyard, “Master Huang, have you gotten what you wished for? Then, I wonder, when will you send me home?”

Huang Pinyuan paused, turned his head, and chuckled, “I dare say I have treated you well these days, providing the best food and drink. Why not stay with my family a while longer?”

Gu Fei looked up, her jade-pale face cold as frost. “Now that the Huang family has won first place at the Ink Tournament, why go back on your word?”

Seeing her anger, Huang Pinyuan felt instantly satisfied; his earlier frustration evaporated. He narrowed his eyes, expression ambiguous, lips curled in a smug smile. Amid Gu Fei’s cold gaze, he sauntered away.

Once his figure vanished, Gu Fei traced her finger across the chessboard from east to west, murmuring softly, “Encirclement…”

That night, Huang Pinyuan, for the first time in over fifty years, laughed aloud even in his sleep.

The Huang family had bested the lesser Mo family, signed a contract with Linglong Pavilion for the trade of ink, and within half a month would stand tall before the capital's Mo clan. In a few years, they would become another century-old ink-making dynasty, prosperous and thriving…

Yet such dreams lasted only until the third quarter of midnight, when a thunderous shout shattered the peace—

“Fire! The workshop is on fire! Quick, someone come…"

“Move out the ink pellets and molds first…”

“Fetch water, put out the flames…”

Then came the pounding of drums. Huang Pinyuan awoke with a start, stunned for several breaths before he realized what was happening. He rushed barefoot and disheveled from his room, not even bothering to put on his shoes. Before him, half the night was ablaze, flames twisting and leaping like molten lava, fierce as wild beasts.

He gaped, unable to utter a word.

The steward, face smeared with soot, hurried over, wailing, “Master, the workshop is burning! All the formulas and unfinished ink pellets, and even the shop’s treasured ink molds—they’re all gone…”

Huang Pinyuan felt a sharp pain in his chest, his vision darkening, nearly losing his balance. The steward stepped forward to steady him. “Master, hold on! That young lady is still in our house, isn’t she? Since she won the Ink Tournament, as long as we keep her here, we can still become the top family in Yizhou.”

At these words, Huang Pinyuan caught his breath, grasping the door frame with a grip so tight it nearly dug into the wood. “Yes, she’s still here. Come, let’s tie her to the Huang family.”

Stumbling, they reached Gu Fei’s courtyard. The gate stood wide open; the garden was pitch-black and silent, heavy with a sense of foreboding. Huang Pinyuan’s heart skipped, unease blooming rapidly like a sponge soaking up water.

Gu Fei sat in her wheelchair, clothes immaculate, her snow-colored gown luminous in the night like a blossoming white gardenia, filling the air with endless fragrance.

“Gu…” Huang Pinyuan’s mouth went dry; he managed only a syllable before an old woman with silver hair and deep lines emerged from the shadows behind Gu Fei’s wheelchair.

Her gaze was sharp as lightning, piercing Huang Pinyuan, as if she wished to tear him limb from limb.

He shivered; if not for the steward supporting him, he might have collapsed to the ground.

Gu Fei’s dark eyes gleamed like stars as she spoke calmly, “Master Huang, do you like tonight’s grand gift?”

Huang Pinyuan shuddered, glancing back at the raging inferno in the workshop. With venom in his voice, he said, “You vicious girl! Are you trying to destroy my family?”

Gu Fei sneered, the flickering flames casting mottled shadows across her face. “To covet what you should not is to meet this fate…”

Her hand stroked the armrest as she lowered her gaze. “It was never the Huang family’s business—you brought this on yourself, greedy and insatiable.”

Huang Pinyuan’s throat rasped like a leaky bellows, his eyes bulging, lips pale, a trickle of blood seeping from the corner of his mouth. “Beat her! Kill her!”

He pointed at Gu Fei, finally revealing murderous intent.

“Hmph,” the old woman snorted. Lifting Gu Fei’s wheelchair with both hands, she stamped her foot and soared onto the rooftop.

Gu Fei looked down at Huang Pinyuan from above, her gaze as indifferent as if she were observing an ant. “Huang Pinyuan, when you dragged me to your house, did you ever think this day would come for your family? After tonight, Yizhou will remember you no more.”

Before the words were finished, the old woman had already carried Gu Fei across the roof tiles without a trace, vanishing swiftly into the smoky night of the Huang estate.

“Stop! Wait!” Huang Pinyuan rushed forward, reaching out, but Gu Fei was already gone.

A crash sounded behind him—the beams of a burning house collapsed.

“Master,” the steward hurriedly steadied Huang Pinyuan and reminded him, “We still have a contract with Linglong Pavilion. We’ll get through this ordeal. Once the capital’s Mo family takes notice, we can punish that girl then.”

The words jolted Huang Pinyuan. He gripped the steward’s arm so tightly it nearly bruised. “Yes, as long as we have that shipment of ink, tomorrow morning I’ll go to Linglong Pavilion myself and bring it back.”

Whatever Huang Pinyuan planned, Gu Fei would pay no mind. In the quiet midnight streets, the old woman pushed her wheelchair, lamenting, “Miss, you’ve suffered—all because this old servant failed to care for you…”

Gu Fei raised her hand, stopping her. “How did you find me?”

The old woman replied, “Miss, it was Mr. Nine from Linglong Pavilion who told me.”

Gu Fei’s brow arched, her gaze deep as she stared into the shadowy alleys. “Mr. Nine? I thought he had you delay several days on purpose before coming.”

The old woman was startled but before she could speak, a pale figure emerged from the darkness, swaying with each step, a cool, clear voice accompanied by a faint smile. “Ah Fei, how could you think so?”