The news of the famous dostic paparazzo Han Bingjiang appearing at the airport and causing a vaguely understood terror attack quickly spread across the internet.
Opinions were divided—so claid it was an act of societal revenge, others suggested that a cult might have supported him, while so believed that Han Bingjiang initially intended to stir up trouble for big headlines but ended up dragging himself into the ss.
However, these matters no longer held any significance for the Song family—they were too pressed for ti. As soon as they woke up in the morning, under Mr. Qi's arrangents, they were imdiately preparing to board a different flight.
The Song family’s destination was the ancestral tomb near Mount Tai, aning this flight that had started from South Arica would eventually land in Jinan.
---
After just waking up, Song Ying, feeling extrely tired, planned to put on an eye mask and sleep imdiately once she boarded the plane. However, an unexpected event on the flight caused all her sleepiness to vanish.
"Luo Qiu? What are you doing here..."
Inside the cabin, a young woman was staring in surprise—so much so that she almost covered her lips with her hand in astonishnt.
This woman appeared to be the epito of an elegant, comfortable, and typical Eastern beauty, resembling a lotus flower in her grace.
Mr. Qi had said that she was Old Madam’s granddaughter, and she would be accompanying them for the remainder of the trip.
In fact, this wasn't just any comrcial flight; it was a private plane under the Zhang family's na.
"Oh... What a coincidence."
Suddenly, the atmosphere seed to quiet down.
---
After a brief silence, Luo Qiu managed to say sothing, breaking the stillness of the situation.
It was indeed surprising—this woman who had greeted him was, in fact, an old acquaintance.
Back when he was in school, she was another student in his class.
At first, Luo Qiu had assud the Zhang family was just a low-profile wealthy family, but his perspective had slowly changed over ti. Only now did he realize that the Zhang family, reduced to just two won, was still one of the prominent families in the world.
As for Zhang Qingrui's abilities, Luo Qiu refrained from comnting, but the Old Madam behind the Zhang family was likely a formidable woman.
Though surprised to see Luo Qiu on the plane, Zhang Qingrui quickly regained her composure, suppressing her many complex thoughts. She smiled and said, "Indeed, what a coincidence. It’s been a long ti, hasn’t it?"
The saying "a smile from her is like a blooming lotus" seed to fit Zhang Qingrui perfectly.
Song Haoran couldn't help but smile at her and subtly compared her to his niece.
At this mont, Song Ying, having suffered from severe insomnia, looked visibly exhausted, with dark circles under her eyes and a haggard complexion. Her hair was also sowhat disheveled, with stray strands clearly visible.
"It has been so ti," Luo Qiu nodded. "Let's go inside."
Behind him, the Song family mbers were waiting, including the butler, Uncle Wu, and the bodyguards accompanying them.
As they all sat down in the private plane’s lounge, Song Tianyou chuckled and said, "You must be Qingrui, right? Sister Li has ntioned you often—she said you are as pure as a lotus and as gentle as a orchid. Seeing you today, it’s truly true. You remind of Sister Li’s beauty back in the day, it’s really nostalgic."
"Grandpa Song, you flatter ," Zhang Qingrui responded graciously, her deanor both humble and elegant.
This won her the favor of the group, especially since when Zhang Qingrui was quiet, she resembled a fragrant orchid in a secluded valley—a pleasing sight.
"Hello, I’m Song Ying. It’s nice to et you, Miss Zhang," suddenly, Song Ying politely greeted her.
Song Haoran glanced at her and was slightly surprised.
When did this girl manage to fix her makeup?
Though not ticulously prepared, Song Ying now looked far better than when she had just woken up with no makeup.
What really made Song Haoran speechless was how effortlessly she had managed to look so good.
It must be a woman’s talent, he thought.
"Zhang Qingrui," the young woman from the Zhang family extended her hand.
The two briefly shook hands before smiling and sitting down. The space was a bit cramped, so after sitting, Song Ying subtly stepped on Song Haoran’s foot.
With a helpless sigh, Song Haoran rubbed his nose, looking at Song Ying’s ‘friendly’ smile, before standing up and saying, "By the way, do you have anything to drink here? How about so wine?"
"It’s morning, so drinking wouldn’t be appropriate," Zhang Qingrui smiled slightly. "If you don’t mind, I’ll make tea for everyone."
"Miss Zhang, do you study the way of tea?" Song Tianyou asked with interest.
This was a chance to assess the younger generation of the Zhang family—a typical interaction between prominent families.
If the younger generation could showcase their talents in front of the older generation, it would naturally make people feel more at ease. After all, wealth and power in the world were never fixed; they had their successors.
The younger generation’s strength and character would determine the future of a family—Grandpa Song knew he was nearing retirent and that he would soon live a quieter life, possibly passing away. But he couldn’t ease his mind about the Song family’s legacy, so he hoped Song Haoran and Song Ying would mature, and he also wanted to find his brother’s descendants.
Similarly, with his long relationship with Zhang Li Lanfang, he didn’t want the Song family to sever ties with them when the younger generation took over, so it was necessary to assess Zhang Qingrui’s capabilities.
Perhaps Sister Li had similar intentions, which is why she had sent her granddaughter—she wanted to see whether the Song family’s descendants had any remarkable qualities.
Thoughts flashed by in a mont.
Zhang Qingrui smiled and said, "I have studied tea a little, but I can hardly call it refined. It’s mostly just for my own enjoynt. Please don’t laugh."
"It’s fine, as long as you make it with sincerity," Grandpa Song said gently. "A person with heart can turn stagnant water into living water. And all a pot of tea needs is that living water."
"Then I’ll show my poor skills," Zhang Qingrui nodded, casually glancing at Luo Qiu.
But she found that Luo Qiu seed to be ignoring everyone, staring out the window at the blue sky and white clouds, as if he didn’t exist.
Zhang Qingrui smiled faintly.
She was used to Luo Qiu’s distracted behavior. During the past year of school, he often appeared to be lost in thought, never proactively speaking to her.
She recalled that they had rely nodded to each other during the year of school, never exchanging words. It was an astonishing situation for Zhang Qingrui, but it also made her inexplicably trust this classmate who was always so near yet distant.
He was probably too absorbed in his own world to notice the people around him?
She rembered the ti they coincidentally t on a plane before—he had been accompanied by a woman who had also made her feel inferior.
He said that woman had been with him for a long ti.
---
Grandpa Song was very perceptive and noticed small movents, such as Song Ying stepping on Song Haoran’s foot and Zhang Qingrui’s subtle glance toward Luo Qiu.
He chuckled and said, "Luo Qiu is a relative I only recently reconnected with. Do you know him, Miss Zhang?"
Zhang Qingrui slightly parted her lips. Though she had so guesses about Luo Qiu, hearing about his connection with the Song family surprised her. Most importantly, although she had forgotten what had happened on the Mongolian grasslands, and her mories of the underground palace involving Cai Wenji and Zhang Jiao were gone, she had recorded everything and sent it to her ‘future self.’
She knew Luo Qiu was not an ordinary person, but it was difficult to form a clear concept of him.
He was both an eccentric in the city and soone from a prominent family... a master of hiding his true identity.
"I know Luo Qiu... he’s an old classmate of mine," Zhang Qingrui said, smiling as she began to prepare tea, while recounting how she and Luo Qiu had once shared a class with just the two of them.
Listening to the conversation, Luo Qiu realized that ti had passed quickly. Although the past days were still vivid in his mind, there was now an unfamiliar sense between them that neither of them had noticed before.
"Oh? Is that so? That really is quite a fate," Grandpa Song remarked with a slight glint in his eyes.
He was a person who believed in fate; otherwise, he wouldn't have so much respect for Mr. Blind. He was also a person who believed in Buddha, so he valued fate even more.
Grandpa Song turned to Luo Qiu. "Luo Qiu, why don't you introduce this young lady from the Zhang family to us? I'd like to hear your thoughts."
"She's a very nice person," Luo Qiu replied, glancing at Zhang Qingrui. He suddenly recalled the mont when, after the underground palace collapsed, she stood on a stone at the edge of the giant pit, arms wide open, facing the wind, and smiled faintly. "Are you still at school?"
"Yes," Zhang Qingrui nodded gently. "I’ve arranged it with my family. I’ll finish my studies first, and then we’ll see what cos next."
"That’s good," Luo Qiu nodded.
Zhang Qingrui continued, "It’s been nice. I’ve t a few new classmates recently. They don’t know , which feels quite refreshing... By the way, is Miss Ren still working as a reporter? If so, maybe I could arrange for her to do an interview with ."
"She’d probably be quite willing," Luo Qiu smiled without hesitation.
He knew Ren Ziling's personality very well. Although she liked to report on strange news, she was under pressure from the editor-in-chief. So if she had the opportunity to do an interview with a prominent local antique expert, she would definitely jump at the chance. It would help balance out her usual antics at the magazine.
"That’s good." Zhang Qingrui took out a piece of paper and a pen, writing down a phone number. "I’ve changed my number recently. You can give this to Miss Ren. Feel free to contact anyti, and I’ll arrange the interview."
"Thank you," Luo Qiu took the number.
Seeing the two of them chatting so happily, Song Haoran leaned toward Song Ying and whispered, "This woman is no simple character; she’s very capable... You’ve got competition."
As he spoke, Song Haoran suddenly widened his eyes.
Because his foot was being subtly rubbed by Song Ying’s heel. She smiled sweetly and asked, "What did you say?"
Feeling that their conversation was becoming a bit too much, Zhang Qingrui smiled faintly. "We’ve been talking for so long and I haven’t made the tea yet. Please wait a mont; I’ll go get the tea set."
"Miss Zhang, please take your ti," Grandpa Song nodded.
While waiting, Song Ying sohow found herself next to Luo Qiu and quietly asked, "The girlfriend you ntioned... Could it be her?"
"Just a classmate," Luo Qiu shook his head, then looked out the window. "Probably just a classmate I got along with... once."
Song Ying looked at him suspiciously.
At that mont, the plane lightly shook, and Zhang Qingrui, who had just returned with the tea set, had to quickly put it down and said, "Sorry, I lost track of ti. The plane’s about to take off. Let's buckle up, everyone."
It was either intentional, coincidental, or just a fluke that Luo Qiu and Zhang Qingrui were seated directly across from each other.
They exchanged smiles, and neither of them seed uncomfortable.
...
...
When the Song family arrived in Shanghai, Mr. Blind, who had parted ways with the family in Hong Kong, had already quietly reached Wudang Mountain.
This ti, Mr. Blind had brought Song Da and Song San along with him.
Both Song Da and Song San ca from Shaolin, and in the world of martial artists, Shaolin and Wudang were old rivals with deep ties. They had heard that going to Wudang would be a rare opportunity for true martial artists, so they readily agreed to accompany Mr. Blind.
However, Wudang Mountain was vast, and the place Mr. Blind led them to was not one of the temples on the mountain. It was said to be a place Mr. Blind used to live.
This blind man ca from Wudang; could it be that there was a hidden connection to immortality on Wudang Mountain?
As Song Da and Song San speculated, occasionally exchanging glances, Mr. Blind led them up to a bamboo forest on the mountain.
Outside the bamboo forest, an elderly man with gray hair and cloudy eyes was waiting in the cold wind. It seed he had been waiting for quite a while, as he was visibly shivering from the cold.
When he saw Mr. Blind approaching, the old man imdiately ran forward and, before speaking, knelt on the ground, kowtowing. "Unworthy disciple Huang Qifa, pays respects to the Ancestor!"
Song Da and Song San exchanged glances. They knew the blind man had a martial arts background and that there were so matters preventing him from returning to his sect, but they had never known that Mr. Blind had his own lineage.
The Ancestor was different from a granduncle; martial artists could easily distinguish the difference.
"Rise," Mr. Blind waved his hand, signaling for Huang Qifa to stand up. Then, he suddenly asked, "Have you seen anyone recently?"
Huang Qifa, now standing, was taken aback and shook his head in confusion. "No... Ancestor, is there sothing wrong?"
Mr. Blind stared at him for a mont before responding, "Let’s go to my old place first. We can talk there. Don’t stay here; I don’t want anyone to know I’ve returned."
(End of this chapter)
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