With three superpowers at his fingertips, he could dominate the 1970s.

She picked up the "Beichen Special Prisoner" file again and tapped the hand-drawn location map with her fingertip.

Deep in the mountains. Behind the main building of the Hokushin Onmyōryō (Northern Star Yin-Yang Bureau). Underground.

It should be Xu Yunzi.

The person that Zhuge Liang had been waiting for for thirty years was right there.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Meanwhile, deep in the mountains, lies the Beichen Yin-Yang Lodge.

Haruko Kurokawa hasn't said a word since she returned from the dungeon.

She went straight into her room and closed the door behind her.

Then she grabbed the teacup on the table and smashed it hard on the ground.

The sound of shattering porcelain exploded in the quiet room, sharp and piercing. Then came the second, the third—teacups, vases, incense burners—she smashed everything within reach on the ground, shattering them into pieces, as if she wanted to vent all her anger and grievances.

The servants waiting under the eaves shrank their necks, and no one dared to utter a sound.

Once the commotion inside subsided, a young maid cautiously pushed open the door with a broom, lowered her head, and silently began to clean up the broken porcelain shards scattered on the floor.

Haruko sat on the tatami by the window, her fingers gripping her sleeves, her knuckles turning white, her gaze fixed on a place that didn't exist.

Footsteps sounded again at the door.

A middle-aged woman walked in, dressed in a plain-colored kimono belonging to the female members of the Yin-Yang Bureau. Her face was about the same age as Haruko's, but her eyes and brows had a colder, sharper look than Haruko's.

Reiichi Sato. The female steward of the Onmyōryō (Bureau of Yin and Yang), and Haruko's nominal deputy.

She glanced at the broken porcelain on the floor, then sat down opposite Haruko without changing her expression, not even lifting her eyelids.

"Finished falling?"

Haruko ignored her.

Sato Reiichi wasn't in a hurry. He poured himself a cup of tea—the only surviving cup in the entire room—and slowly sipped it before speaking:

"Haruko, do you regret this now?"

Haruko clenched her sleeves tightly, without saying a word.

"The clan selected so many talented young men for you back then, but you didn't like any of them. But—"

Sato Reiichi spoke in a detached tone, as if he were talking about something that had nothing to do with him.

"But I just happened to fall for that person."

Haruko's shoulders tensed.

"You're the eldest daughter of our Beichen Yin-Yang Bureau, enjoying the best resources and the highest treatment. How did your aunt and I try to persuade you back then? But you wouldn't listen to anyone."

Sato Reiichi put down her teacup, her voice neither too loud nor too soft, "What good is it to force him to have you?"

Haruko finally spoke, her voice hoarse: "What do you know?"

"I don't understand."

Sato Reiichi turned his head slightly to look at her:

"What I understand is that you carried the child for ten months and raised him with great difficulty, but that person's blood flows in his veins. You said you wanted to have a child with a spirit, someone who could inherit the mantle of our Yin-Yang Bureau—and what happened?"

She paused, a subtle hint of sarcasm creeping into her tone:

"Heng'er does indeed have that person's blood flowing in his veins, making him naturally more perceptive than others. But you still miscalculated one thing; without someone to guide him, he still wouldn't know how. Bloodline is bloodline, and magic is magic. Without a master, relying solely on a drop of blood, nothing can be passed down."

Haruko's lips trembled slightly.

"Even if I have that person's blood, I don't have that person's talent."

Sato Reiichi's voice became even, as if stating a fact that should have been faced long ago:

"Thirty years. You've spent thirty years verifying this; the price has been high enough."

"What do you know!"

Haruko suddenly looked up, her eyes red-rimmed:

"I'm doing this all for the sake of our Yin-Yang Bureau! Our magic is incomplete, and every sacrifice costs the lives of our people, even our families! If it weren't for the people sent by the Fukuda family these past few years, do you know how many of our own clans would have been sacrificed? I'm doing this all for the sake of the Yin-Yang Bureau!"

Her voice rose, carrying an almost hysterical tone of protest:

"I thought... I thought that with his bloodline and his legacy, we wouldn't have to walk the path of sacrifice anymore! How could I have known this person's bones were so hard—"

The sound suddenly stopped.

She lowered her head, placed her hands on her knees, and her shoulders trembled slightly.

"I was a girl of fifteen or sixteen when I started dating him... I raised my child alone. Every time I brought my child to him, he wouldn't even glance at him. That's his bloodline! It's one thing if he won't teach us, but shouldn't he at least teach his own child?"

Sato Reiichi did not respond.

"That person's heart is cold, and their blood is cold." Haruko's voice became very soft, so soft it was almost like talking to herself:

"For so many years, he hasn't looked at Heng'er even once. Even after Heng'er got married and had Xiangtai, he wasn't moved in the slightest. Now that I've brought Xiangtai to him, his eyes have flickered slightly, but it's just a flicker; he still hasn't given an inch."

She looked up, her eyes brimming with tears, but not a single one fell: "Could it be... that the people of China are all so stubborn?"

Sato Reiichi looked at her without saying a word.

After a long silence, she finally spoke, her tone several degrees more serious than before:

"There's no use dwelling on this now. You went there, and he still won't budge."

Haruko shook her head, her voice hoarse: "She still won't."

Sato Reiichi's gaze darkened slightly.

"Then you should know that the elders in the clan won't let this matter go easily. If something really happens to the Fukuda family—"

Her voice was lowered:

"They'll use Kouichi and Shota to pressure that man. Don't be too reluctant then."

Haruko's body stiffened.

"What did Kouichi and Shota do wrong...?"

Her tears finally fell, silently streaming down her cheeks, dripping onto the fabric of her clothes at her knees, leaving dark stains!

"That person's heart is cold—even if Kouichi and Shota died in front of him, he wouldn't blink!"

She suddenly laughed, a laugh filled with bitterness and absurdity: "Do you know how many men I've brought to do 'that' in front of him? He's unmoved. For thirty years, I've imprisoned a block of wood."

Sato Reiichi watched her cry, but neither offered her a handkerchief nor offered any comfort.

She gave a cold snort in her heart.

This love-struck fool, despite holding the title of the young lady of the Onmyo-ryo (Yin-Yang Bureau), has done countless outrageous things, yet she is still revered and treated with utmost respect. That's the power of status—as long as her surname is Kurokawa, as long as she remains the young lady of this generation, no matter how outrageous her actions, no one can touch her.

But this time it's different.

If the Fukuda family suffers a major calamity, the Yin-Yang Bureau and the Fukuda family are in the same boat. In such a situation, the elders will not tolerate her as before.

After all, Koichi Kurokawa and Shota Kurokawa are the biggest failures of the Onmyōryō. They originally planned to control that man and force out the complete inheritance, but after thirty years, that man has not let go even once.

No matter how the young lady tested him, provoked him, or tried to hurt him with the child, he was like an emotionless machine, giving no reaction whatsoever.

Sato Rei stood up and straightened her clothes.

"Think about it carefully."

She walked to the door, glanced back at Haruko, and saw the woman still crying, her shoulders trembling slightly, as if it were the first time in thirty years that she had cried so openly.

Sato Reiichi looked away and closed the door.

The wind blowing through the corridor came from the mountains, carrying the cool, astringent scent of pine resin and stone moss. She stood at the doorway, took a deep breath, and a barely perceptible hint of interest flashed in her eyes.

She was somewhat expectant, wanting to see how this high-and-mighty young lady would ultimately handle herself.