Volume 3 - Chapter 395: A Century of Solitude (Part 2)
Inside the Minghuang Hall.
Li Hao sat together with Su Zhenyuan and Madam Su Qingmei.
While the guards went to summon the daughters, Su Zhenyuan took the opportunity to ask Li Hao many questions—where he had lived previously, what kind of techniques he excelled at, and which Dao-Origin Essences he had cultivated.
Li Hao answered selectively, revealing nothing about his techniques or cultivation path.
Su Zhenyuan did not press further. After all, the youth before him was prodigiously gifted and set to become a disciple of an Imperial Lord. Matters concerning his cultivation were personal and often secret—keeping them hidden was reasonable.
He offered Li Hao a seat and had tea served. The atmosphere, initially awkward and stifled, lightened somewhat with the return of the guards.
“Daughters pay respects to Father.”
Two figures entered the hall. Upon seeing Su Zhenyuan and their mother seated above, they both bowed respectfully. But soon, their eyes shifted quickly to the boy seated at the side.
When they got a clear look at him, the two girls froze, a flicker of surprise surfacing in their eyes.
Wasn’t this the same lecherous rogue who had blocked their path earlier?
“Muqing? What are you doing here?”
Madam Su Qingmei’s expression shifted the moment she saw Su Muqing. Her gaze instinctively darted to Li Hao, and her face immediately darkened upon seeing the boy staring so intently at her daughter. Her expression grew stormy, laced with restrained anger.
Su Muqing retracted her glance from Li Hao. Her thoughts turned quickly. So this was the so-called "ideal match" her parents had chosen for her sister? What terrible taste.
Her voice cooled. “I’m here to look out for my sister. I wanted to see which ‘genius’ had come to propose for Wanqing.”
As she spoke, she straightened her back and turned, eyes sharp as blades, locking onto the boy.
But the moment their eyes met, she saw the boy staring dazedly at her. Her face changed slightly, a mix of embarrassment and irritation rising.
Su Wanqing also noticed. She felt no anger—only curiosity. Though soft-spoken, she was perceptive. The boy’s affection for her elder sister was blatantly obvious, to the point that his proposal might merely be an excuse to get close to Su Muqing.
She wasn't surprised. She had seen this before—those who admired Muqing but lacked the courage to approach her directly often tried to learn her preferences through her sisters.
Su Zhenyuan, too, noticed the look in Li Hao’s eyes. He coughed lightly and said, “Xiao Hao, this is my daughter Su Wanqing. Her soul-age is six hundred seventy years. She’s at the fifth level of the Immortal Lord Realm and possesses the rare Netherblood Constitution—nearly unmatched in her realm.”
As he spoke, he noticed Li Hao’s gaze hadn’t shifted even slightly. The boy’s eyes remained fixed on Su Muqing.
And in those eyes was a complex, indescribable emotion—far beyond a mere first encounter. Su Zhenyuan hesitated. Could it be the two had some prior connection?
“What are you staring at? How dare you act so rudely in front of my sister? One more look and I’ll dig your eyes out!”
Su Muqing snapped, clearly both flustered and enraged by his unblinking stare.
Li Hao snapped back to himself. That moon-blue dress rippled in the hall’s breeze, just as it had once fluttered by a teahouse in midsummer. Her voice had then been like a laugh carried on wind:
“My name is Ying Xiaoxiao. Ying, as in 'born of destiny.' Xiaoxiao, as in 'graceful and free.' And you?”
Time flowed like a river. That voice from a past life seemed to echo again, through this nearly identical face, wearing the same clothes.
He softly replied, “You may call me Haotian.”
The same answer from that summer long ago.
Su Muqing froze. The others in the hall also blinked in confusion. Then Su Muqing broke into a furious, mocking laugh.
“Who asked for your name? I don’t care if you call yourself Haotian or Heaven-on-Earth. Stare at me one more time and I swear I’ll gouge your eyes out!”
As she spoke, the pressure of the sixth-level Immortal Lord Realm surged from her. A luminous stream of light appeared at her brow, as if warping time and space itself.
The weight of her aura was enough to silence even those in the seventh level of the same realm.
But Li Hao, now fully alert, was drawn not to her anger but to the temporal essence flickering on her brow.
His heart skipped a beat. That powerful Time-Origin energy… So he hadn't been mistaken. She was indeed the reincarnation of Shi Miao. Her memories would awaken in time—alongside those of Ying Xiaoxiao.
Still, seeing the boy refuse to avert his gaze, Su Muqing’s fury erupted. But before she could act, Su Zhenyuan raised his hand, forcibly suppressing her power and returning it to her body.
He looked helpless as he gave her a calming glance, then turned to Li Hao.
“Xiao Hao, I understand you wish to marry Muqing. But she is already betrothed. Why put yourself through this?”
Hearing this, Su Muqing’s eyes widened in disbelief. She turned to look at her father, then whipped her head toward Li Hao, face full of shocked rage.
Who did this boy think he was, daring to propose to her of all people? And her father… since when was he so polite? Anyone else would’ve been vaporized on the spot!
Su Wanqing, meanwhile, grew even more curious. Though she had been the one summoned, she now felt like a bystander—completely captivated by the unfolding drama.
Li Hao opened his mouth to speak, but at that moment, two more guard auras approached—along with a distinctly feminine presence.
“Daughter greets Father.”
A figure stepped into the hall like a lotus blooming with every step—radiant in white, her presence graceful and poised.
A waterfall of black hair slid over her shoulder as she bowed. Her scent filled the room like drifting blossoms on spring wind.
Seizing the moment, Su Zhenyuan quickly said to Li Hao, “Xiao Hao, this is my second daughter, Su Wanxue. Soul-age: eight hundred twenty years. Immortal Lord Realm, seventh level.”
Su Wanxue looked up, her gaze sweeping to the boy beside her. His eyes met hers—but there was no spark of amazement, no infatuated awe like other scions and geniuses.
Instead, he appeared somewhat numb… even detached.
He gently shook his head.
“Patriarch, please grant my request.”
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