Chapter 123: Old Manor Secret Talk

The images flashed by too fast to grasp, leaving a suffocating tightness in the chest.

Zhang Jun also stopped in his tracks, watching her subtle change.

Squeak—

That vermilion‑lacquered gate was pulled open a crack from inside.

An old man in a gray cloth robe, hunched at the waist, shuffled out holding a big broom and began sweeping the fallen leaves at the gate.

The old man's hair was white, his face full of wrinkles, his movements very slow; as he swept, his waist almost bent to the ground.

But Zhang Jun's attention was wholly on him.

This old man looked ordinary, even a bit useless, yet his body held a pure yang vigor that could be felt; inside him lay a deep, ancient‑well‑like breath, heavy and faint, yet tightly condensed.

The old man's cloudy eyes swept over Zhang Jun and Lin Xue as if he hadn't seen them, treating them as mere passersby.

After sweeping up those few leaves, he shuffled back into the courtyard and closed the gate.

"That old man just now…" Zhang Jun muttered quietly.

Lin Xue shook her head, snapped out of that daze, her face paler than usual.

"I don't know him."

The two didn't linger, continued forward, and left that strange alley.

Just as they reached the alley's mouth, thinking of hailing a car, a black sedan glided silently up to them and blocked the way.

The car window rolled down, revealing Qin Yueyao's expressionless face.

"Doctor Zhang, Miss Lin, please get in."

Zhang Jun and Lin Xue exchanged a glance, neither moving.

Qin Yueyao opened the car door and stepped out, still wearing a simple cheongsam.

"Last night's incident, the Qin family caught wind of it. The Lin family made a move, and the Zhou family's people are also lurking nearby."

She spoke quite directly, laying bare the danger from last night.

"My father would like to invite you two to his residence for a chat. There are some things about that medicinal cauldron and the Medicine Sect's inheritance; perhaps we can speak openly."

She made a gesture of invitation; her posture remained lovely, her words gentle, yet the weight of what she said made it hard to refuse.

The Qin family showed up so quickly and even took the initiative to speak. Are they truly seeking cooperation, sounding us out, or waiting to play the snipe and clam?

"Those with the surname Lin, those with the surname Qin… Kun's words turned over in Zhang Jun's mind."

Zhang Jun looked at Lin Xue. Lin Xue gave a slight nod.

"Lead the way." Zhang Jun said.

The black sedan slipped silently into a secluded alley and stopped before an old residence with a vermilion gate and high walls.

The doorway looked unremarkable, but the heavy wooden door, its cold iron rings, and the unfathomable solemnity beyond it all betrayed something out of the ordinary.

Here differs from the flashy red‑lights‑and‑wine streets outside; the air carries the scent of aged wood mixed with faint incense, heavy and oppressive, making one's chest feel constricted.

Qin Yueyao stepped out first, making a "please" gesture.

The mansion gate opened noiselessly, revealing layer upon layer of courtyards, winding covered walkways linking together, light fractured by high eaves and dense trees.

Underfoot, the blue stone slab path was slick; each step felt hollow, echoing.

There weren't many guards, but each concealed their aura, standing in inconspicuous corners; the feeling was nonetheless real.

After passing two courtyards and skirting a carved screen wall, Qin Yueyao led them to a secluded side courtyard.

The courtyard gate was shut; pushing it open revealed a windowless stone room.

Inside was simple: a few grandmaster chairs and a heavy black‑lacquered wooden table. The walls were bare smooth, with not a seam to be found.

Qin Xiaotian stood with his hands behind his back in the middle of the stone room.

When they entered, he didn't turn, just waved a hand toward the back.

The stone door slowly closed behind them with a muffled "clunk," rather chilling.

Inside remained only Qin Xiaotian, Qin Yueyao, Zhang Jun, and Lin Xue—four people.

"Sit." Qin Xiaotian finally turned, his face expressionless, pointing to the opposite chair.

Zhang Jun and Lin Xue sat down; the chair was icy cold and hard.

"Don't be nervous," Qin Xiaotian said, sitting himself in the chief seat, his fingers tapping lightly on the armrest—thud, thud, thud. "I invited you two here to speak openly."

He didn't beat around the bush. "That three‑legged bronze cauldron is something left by the Medicine Sect. My Qin ancestors, fortunate enough to obtain this cauldron, have pondered it for generations."

He paused, as if gauging their reactions.

"We have some fragmented Medicine Sect manuscripts and have roughly figured out some of the cauldron's uses, but the crucial link has always eluded us."

Qin Yueyao stood silently behind her father and added, "Until you two appeared."

Qin Xiaotian's voice was steady yet carried an irresistible force: "The family's secret records state that this cauldron is a Medicine Sect tool for 'yin‑yang combined refinement.' What exactly it refines—medicine or a special technique—is not written. But to set it in motion, the key is to employ two utterly opposite yet complementary internal forces—one scorching hot, the other bone‑chilling cold."

He didn't say it outright, but everyone in the room understood what he meant.

"The Qin family isn't lacking in attempts." Qin Xiaotian shifted his tone, his voice low and heavy, "A senior with great talent managed to cultivate one of those forces, trying to activate the cauldron alone. The result…"

He didn't detail the process, just spat out two words: "Backlash."

As the two words "backlash" left his mouth, the hitherto silent Lin Xue twitched imperceptibly, the fingers resting at her side curling slightly.

The chilly aura around her seemed to become more substantial.

Qin Xiaotian took all this in, then continued: "After that, the Qin family established a rule: without both yin and yang successors, no one may dare move the cauldron. We've waited many years."

He looked at Zhang Jun: "Doctor Zhang, your pure yang technique is pure and fierce." Then turning to Lin Xue: "Miss Lin, your profound yin internal force is also rare. You two are likely the other line of successors the Qin family has awaited for generations."

Having said that, Qin Xiaotian fell silent, just watching them.

The air in the stone room seemed to have frozen.

After a while, Qin Xiaotian took from under the table a long object wrapped in brocade and carefully unwrapped it.

Inside was a yellowed animal‑skin scroll, tough to the touch, smelling of antiquity.

The beast-hide scroll unfurled, covered in a chaotic mess of human meridian diagrams, plus countless twisted, tadpole-like tiny symbols.

This diagram is far more complex and complete than what Zhang Jun felt from that bronze plate, clearly depicting how yang inner strength flows and which apertures it passes through.

"This is the 'Yang Scroll' portion that the Qin family poured unknown generations of effort into, searching everywhere and patching everywhere, before they could finally assemble it." Qin Xiaotian pushed the beast-hide scroll to the center of the table. "Unfortunately, its counterpart, the 'Yin Scroll', is missing so badly it's almost as if it doesn't exist. If yin and yang don't match, this scroll is just waste paper, and that cauldron is nothing but a dead lump."