My words have become law; I truly have no desire to display my divine power before others.

The stone slabs were laid extremely flat, with not a single weed in the gaps, clearly indicating that they had been carefully maintained.

He raised his hand and grasped the cold copper ring.

Just as he was about to knock, the door creaked open by itself.

The person who opened the door was an elderly man wearing a blue cloth robe, with a thin face and three long wisps of beard.

He wore a perfectly measured smile, and upon seeing Lin Yunfeng, he bowed respectfully, his movements as precise as an old male character on a theatrical stage.

"Young Master Lin, you've arrived. Miss has been waiting for you for quite some time."

His voice was dry and hoarse, as if someone who hadn't spoken in a long time was suddenly opening their mouth, and every word was tinged with friction.

Lin Yunfeng found the voice very familiar: "Uncle Fu, Wan'er, she..."

"Miss is in the inner room." The butler, known as Uncle Fu, stepped aside. "Young master, please follow me."

Lin Yunfeng stepped over the high threshold and entered the courtyard.

The door behind me closed silently.

Inside the door lies another world.

A straight path paved with bluestone leads to the main hall, with meticulously maintained gardens on both sides.

On the left, several clumps of green bamboo grow, their leaves rustling in the night breeze; on the right, there is a pool of clear water, with a few water lily leaves floating on the surface, and a few red carp swimming among the leaves.

Stone lanterns stand beside the passageway, their shades carved from white jade, with candles burning inside, casting a soft light.

Everything was exquisitely beautiful.

I must be overthinking it. Wan'er's family is a scholarly family, so it's only natural that they are particular about such things.

At the end of the passageway was a hanging flower gate, with a beaded curtain hanging above it. Uncle Fu lifted the curtain and said respectfully, "Young master, please."

Lin Yunfeng walked into the inner courtyard.

The inner courtyard is even more exquisite.

The covered walkway connects the main house and the side rooms, with the pillars painted vermilion and the railings carved with floral and bird patterns.

There is a tall osmanthus tree in the courtyard, which is in full bloom. The pale yellow osmanthus flowers are covered with branches, and the fragrance is so strong that it is almost cloying.

Several maids were busy under the tree.

Some were sweeping fallen leaves—even though there were hardly any leaves on the ground.

Some were wiping the pillars—but the vermilion lacquer was so shiny you could see your reflection in it.

Others were carrying trays with teapots and snacks, walking towards the main hall.

Upon seeing Lin Yunfeng, they all stopped what they were doing and curtsied in greeting:

"Young Master Lin."

The voices were so uniform, as if they came from a single person.

Lin Yunfeng nodded, his gaze sweeping over their faces.

They are all beautiful.

With willow-leaf eyebrows, almond-shaped eyes, fair skin, and red lips, she is the epitome of a beautiful woman.

But for some reason, these faces look...too similar.

It's not that they look alike, but rather that their expressions—the curve of their upturned lips, the angle of their raised eyelids, even the respect in their eyes—are as if they were carved from the same mold.

Moreover, their faces were too pale, as if they were covered in a thick layer of powder. Their lips were too red, as if they had just drunk blood.

A maid carrying a tray walked past him.

Lin Yunfeng smelled a fragrance—not the scent of osmanthus, nor the scent of cosmetics, but rather... the smell of paper being scented with incense, mixed with a faint smell of paste.

He frowned.

The maid seemed to notice him, turned her head, and smiled sweetly at him.

When she smiled, Lin Yunfeng saw her teeth—snow-white, neat, but…too neat.

Each tooth is exactly the same size, shape, and spacing, like carefully arranged grains of rice.

"Young master?" Uncle Fu's voice sounded from behind. "Miss is waiting for you."

Lin Yunfeng snapped out of his daze and strode towards the main hall.

The door to the main hall was open.

The inside was brightly lit.

Six enormous palace lanterns hung from the roof beams, each with twelve lamp heads, burning red candles as thick as a child's arm.

The candlelight illuminated the entire main hall as brightly as day, making the texture of the floor tiles clearly visible.

The main hall was decorated in an extremely luxurious manner.

The table and chairs are made of rosewood, with brocade embroidered with gold thread covering the tabletop.

The display cabinet is filled with antiques and jade artifacts—blue and white porcelain vases, white jade ornaments, bronze incense burners, each piece exuding a sense of antiquity.

The walls are adorned with calligraphy and paintings, depicting landscapes, flowers, and birds, all signed by renowned artists from previous dynasties.

All of this demonstrates the wealth and taste of the homeowner.

But Lin Yunfeng stood at the door, hesitant to step inside.

It's so...clean.

It wasn't clean and tidy, but rather a kind of... lifeless cleanliness.

The floor tiles were spotless, the furniture gleamed, and the items on the display cabinet were arranged meticulously, with even the angles perfectly aligned.

It's like... it's like nobody has ever really lived here.

"Lin Lang."

A soft, charming voice came from inside the hall.

Lin Yunfeng looked up and saw Wan'er walking out of the inner room.

Today she wore a light red ruqun (a type of traditional Chinese dress), with a moon-white vest over it. Her long, black hair was styled into a "fallen horse" bun, with a gold hairpin inserted diagonally.

In the candlelight, her face was unrealistically beautiful—her skin was as white as fine porcelain.

Her lips were as red as ripe cherries, and her almond-shaped eyes, brimming with autumn water, were gazing at him tenderly.

"Wan'er..." All of Lin Yunfeng's doubts vanished at that moment.

He strode into the main hall, wanting to take her hand.

Wan'er took a half step back, covered her mouth and chuckled, "What's the rush, Lin Lang? Sit down and have a cup of tea first."

She led him to sit down at the octagonal table.

A tea set—a set of celadon Ru ware porcelain—was already laid out on the table, with wisps of steam rising from the spout of the teapot.

A maidservant stepped forward to pour tea.

Lin Yunfeng looked at her hands—they were very beautiful hands, with slender fingers, neatly trimmed nails, and painted with light pink nail polish.

The tea was poured into the teacup, and the water level was precisely seven-tenths full, not a drop more or less.

Lin Yunfeng took the teacup; the tea was warm and had a pleasant aroma.

He took a sip.

The taste... is very strange.

It has the fragrance of tea, but is followed by an indescribable astringent taste, like overcooked leaves, or... the smell of paper ash.

"What's wrong? Is the tea not to your liking?" Wan'er asked with concern.

"No, no." Lin Yunfeng quickly shook his head and took another big gulp.

We cannot let Wan'er down.

Wan'er smiled, sat down opposite him, and looked at him with her chin in her hand: "Lin Lang, you've arrived a little later than usual today. Were you delayed on the way?"

"On the way..." Lin Yunfeng thought for a moment, "It seems like... someone is following us?"

He spoke uncertainly, as if it were just his imagination, and he always felt as if someone was calling him.

"It must be that Lin Lang is too tired and has misremembered." Wan'er reached out and lightly stroked his cheek—her hand did not actually touch him, but Lin Yunfeng felt a chill.

"Here, I had them prepare some snacks, including your favorite osmanthus cake."

Another maidservant brought over a plate of pastries.

The pastries are shaped like osmanthus flowers, pale yellow in color, and sprinkled with icing sugar; they look incredibly tempting.

Lin Yunfeng picked up a piece and took a bite.

The texture... is very soft, but too soft, like a marshmallow.

It tastes cloyingly sweet, and has a faint paste-like aftertaste.

He swallowed it with relish and laughed, "It's delicious."

Wan'er looked at him, her smile deepening: "Eat more if you like it. Look at you, you've gotten so thin."

Her hand brushed against his face again, and this time, Lin Yunfeng felt a more pronounced coolness seep into his skin and spread through his veins into his body.

At the same time, the fire in his chest... seemed to burn even brighter.

The light made him dizzy, and everything he saw was shrouded in a hazy glow.

"Wan'er..." he murmured, "I'm a little... dizzy..."

"If you feel dizzy, lean on me." Wan'er's voice seemed to come through the water. "I'll help you inside to rest."

She stood up and came over to help him.

Lin Yunfeng leaned against her, smelling the scent of old rouge mixed with withered flowers and grass on her body.

The scent reassured him, relaxed him, and made him feel... that nothing else mattered.