Chapter 8: Echoes of Disappointment

After Kai departed, the air in the chamber felt heavier, as if something significant lingered. Lord Thor straightened his posture, summoning his guards with a firm voice.

"Guards! Fetch Rong Yue for me," he commanded, his tone leaving no room for hesitation.

One of the stone-faced sentinels nodded sharply and hastened to obey, returning shortly with Rong Yue in tow. The younger man entered the chamber with a neutral expression, though the tension in his shoulders suggested he was already aware something was amiss.

"Father?" he inquired, tilting his head slightly, his dark eyes searching for answers.

Lord Thor's gaze narrowed, a sharp intensity radiating from him.

"Rong Yue, have you noticed Xing Li engaging in any unusual activities or interacting with outsiders? I ask this because of your close relationship with him."

Rong Yue's brow furrowed in confusion.

"As far as I know, Xing Li has kept to himself, aside from that incident with Lady Song. He's never ventured beyond our household," he replied, a hint of protectiveness creeping into his voice.

Lord Thor's expression shifted, turning calculating as he leaned forward slightly.

"I've caught wind of rumors about the Emperor convening a prestigious cultivation school in the capital, gathering noble sons from all seven kingdoms within the month."

Rong Yue's heart skipped a beat.

"Why do you ask, Father?" he queried, unease creeping into his tone.

His father's lips curled into a smirk, the kind that sent chills down Rong Yue's spine.

"Because Xing Li expressed a desire to be our representative at the school. When he spoke to me, his gaze was different—he looked me straight in the eye for the first time."

Rong Yue's expression darkened further, a knot forming in his stomach.

"Is that so, Father?"

"As the older brother, do you have any objections?" Lord Thor pressed, his voice steady and scrutinizing.

Rong Yue hesitated, weighing his response carefully.

"I think it's a good idea for him to volunteer," he replied cautiously, grappling with his own unease.

"His absence might quell the anger of the Qing clan, and Lady Song would rest easier knowing he won't be in Yi Province."

After concluding his conversation with Lord Thor, heavy thoughts followed Rong Yue as he retreated to the solitude of his room. Once inside, he summoned his younger brother, Ying, with an urgent tone.

"Bring Second Young Master to my chambers immediately," Rong Yue called out to his attendants.

Minutes later, Young Master Ying stepped into the dimly lit room, where the air was heavy with the scent of medicinal incense. Rong Yue was seated on a low stool, shrouded in shadows.

"Brother Rong, you finally summoned me," Ying said, a flicker of happiness sparking in his tone as he crossed the threshold.

Rong Yue's eyes darkened, the weight of unsaid words heavy in the air.

"You did what I asked you to do?" he replied, his voice low and measured, laced with a bitter edge.

Ying's expression wavered, his heart pounding as he knelt before his brother, tears welling in his eyes.

"What did I do wrong, brother?" The question escaped his lips as a whisper, fragile and desperate.

Rong Yue's gaze sharpened, drilling into his brother with an intensity that tightened his jaw.

"I thought you finished him," he reiterated, his voice rising, barely contained fury fueling his tone.

"And now look where we are because of your failure."

The atmosphere thickened with tension, silence wrapping around them like a vise. Ying's gaze dropped to the floor, his shame anchoring him there.

"I didn't mean to fail you," he murmured, a tremor betraying his façade of composure.

Rong Yue turned away, anguish weaving itself into his features, his fists clenching at his sides.

"You didn't fail me," he said, his voice heavy with a sorrow that pierced the dimly lit room.

"You failed yourself."

The suffocating silence that followed was punctuated only by the soft crackle of the flickering candles, their light casting dancing shadows on the walls. In that moment, the shared weight of disappointment hung between them—an almost tangible barrier, suffocating and unyielding, as they faced the reality of their fractured bond.