The Ethereal Domains

Chapter 27: The Mystery In White

The Mystery In White . . .

Amid the tumultuous rumors that continued to churn within the capital, there existed an enigmatic courtyard, seemingly untouched by the external chaos.

Nestled at the heart of the capital, this courtyard was a testament to the adage that every inch of its grounds was worth its weight in gold. Surrounded by an expansive bamboo forest, it was encircled on three sides by a continuous range of small mountains, leaving only a single approach.

One couldn't help but marvel at the immense wealth and influence required to secure such a prime piece of real estate. The individual who had accomplished this feat had astoundingly allocated twenty percent of the land to small mountains, seventy percent to a sprawling bamboo forest, and a mere ten percent for the construction of a secluded courtyard.

Such extravagant spending was staggering to contemplate, yet astute investment often yielded substantial returns.

Within this courtyard, a gentle breeze rustled through the bamboo, imparting a sense of tranquility reminiscent of a poetic reverie. Simultaneously, amidst the forest's rustling, the melodious strains of a stringed instrument rang out, as though plucked from the heavens themselves.

Though it should have remained a celestial sound, it resonated audibly in the mortal realm.

In the courtyard, a zither rested upon its stand. Seated in a wheelchair, a man garbed in pristine white robes delicately danced his fingers upon the zither's strings, conjuring a mellifluous melody that wafted through the air like a serene stream.

Before the zither, an incense stick burned, its ethereal cerulean smoke rising gradually, swirling in the air before dispersing.

Positioned behind the man were two young women clad in white. Together, they formed a tableau of enchanting beauty—one seated, the others standing—against the backdrop of this idyllic scene.

Even if a horde of adversaries were to descend upon them at that very moment, they would hesitate to disrupt this ethereal tableau.

The gentle breeze continued to caress their silken garments.

Suddenly, a figure cloaked in black with azure accents flickered amidst the bamboo forest. The man traversed the forest with the swiftness of the wind, alighting upon the ground with a nearly imperceptible touch. Although his movements bore an air of tranquility, his haste was evident from his rapid passage. Yet upon witnessing the scene before him, he refrained from uttering a word, standing in silence. He did not even allow himself the luxury of a deep breath, fearing that it might disrupt the serene ambiance.

He dared not exhale audibly, for he did not wish to disturb the tranquility that enveloped the scene.

Despite the unexpected arrival, the man in white remained composed. His visage resembled flawless white jade, his countenance enveloped in the rapturous embrace of music. His fingers, dancing gracefully upon the zither's strings, exhibited both speed and ease. His eyes were nearly closed, and his elegant eyebrows extended naturally toward his temples. It appeared as though he had not noticed the intruder who had swiftly traversed his bamboo forest and entered his courtyard, now standing before him.

And then, with a resounding final note—**zeng!**—the aged man concluded his zither performance. The magical strains of the instrument lingered in the air even after the last note had been struck.

With a leisurely motion, the man in white lowered his hand and drew a deep breath. His eyes closed briefly, and he tilted his head upward, allowing his long, ebony hair to cascade naturally.

In a captivating tableau of contrasting attire, the enigmatic figure shrouded in black took a deliberate step forward, signaling his intent to speak. Yet, in an elegant display of authority, the man garbed in pristine white extended his hand gracefully, conjuring a subtle, almost poetic gesture that seemed to ripple through the ether. It was a simple wave, but it conveyed volumes. The man in black, recognizing the unspoken command, yielded, stepping back with a humility that echoed through the hushed air.

An interlude of profound silence descended upon the scene, as if time itself had paused to witness the unfolding exchange. Eventually, the man in white, as though awakening from a meditative trance, gently opened his eyes, their depths reflecting an inner peace that transcended mortal understanding. In a voice like the soothing cadence of a mountain stream, he began to share his wisdom: "In the grand tapestry of existence, every element possesses a soul. When my zither fell silent, it signaled the departure of the song's very essence. To connect with the soul of sound is to pay homage not just to all living beings, but to ourselves as well."

His lips curved into a serene smile, radiating benevolence as he continued, "In such moments, interruptions are a disservice. Regardless of the pressing concerns that may weigh upon you, patience is the truest form of reverence."

The man in black, in a display of unwavering respect, lowered his head with an air of admiration. "Yes, my lord," he replied humbly.

It was intriguing to note that this enigmatic figure, draped in the depths of black attire, had ascended to the pinnacle of the Grade of Diyuan. Surpassing even the most esteemed cultivators of the superior martial sects, he stood unrivaled in the mortal realm. Yet, in the presence of the man in white, he assumed the role of a subservient disciple, his demeanor suffused with humility and honor.

His humility was unmistakable, but it was accompanied by an aura of genuine contentment and sincerity. In this enigmatic realm, serving the man in white was not merely a duty; it was the zenith of his life's accomplishments.

With a gracious nod, the man in white signaled that the moment had arrived for the man in black to speak. As he retracted his outstretched hand, a young attendant stepped forward, bearing a pristine white silk napkin. The man in white accepted it with effortless grace, gently tending to his hands before returning it. Though he never met her gaze, the girl handled the napkin with the utmost reverence, acknowledging her role with both hands.

The man in black, seizing the opportunity, began to relay the crux of the matter. "My lord, the issue pertains to Mu Cheng-Bai of the Mu clan. Tragically, he has met his demise in the capital, and rumors swirl that Cha-Eun Xiao is responsible. This incident continues to send shockwaves through the capital, prompting the Mu clan to deploy their most formidable forces to Chen-Xing City for a thorough investigation."

The man in white, his hands resting gently upon his abdomen, nodded in quiet contemplation.

"Indeed," he responded.

"However," the man in black continued, his voice respectful and deferential, "the circumstances surrounding Mu Cheng-Bai's untimely death are veiled in ambiguity, but it is beyond doubt that Cha-Eun Xiao could not have committed the act. I fear that the Mu clan may have unwittingly walked into a meticulously laid trap. Ordinarily, their astuteness would not falter to such a degree."

He proceeded to expound upon eight intricacies of the case, each meticulously analyzed and bolstered by sound reasoning. Each point painted a compelling portrait of innocence.

The man in white, throughout the discourse, maintained an attentive silence. Only when the man in black had exhausted his exposition did the man in white offer his insights. "Your arguments possess a compelling validity," he acknowledged, his tone characterized by serenity.

A flush of elation graced the man in black's countenance, a testament to the reverence he held for his superior. "I am profoundly grateful for your esteemed praise, my lord."

The man in white, his lips curling into a contemplative smile, continued, "However, every facet of your argument rests upon a singular assumption—that Cha-Eun Xiao cannot be the perpetrator."

He paused, allowing the gravity of his words to resonate. "Should the unexpected revelation unveil Cha-Eun Xiao as the true assailant, the very foundations of your arguments would crumble. We would, inadvertently, plunge ourselves into a chasm of unending risks, all stemming from a single, potentially catastrophic oversight. Do you perceive the implications? By excluding Cha-Eun Xiao from our suspicions, we may unwittingly investigate others, enraging one expert cultivator after another. We might persist in believing it the only logical course, yet in doing so, we could offend countless innocents, sowing the seeds of perpetual mortal enmities."

Elation coursed through the features of the man swathed in black, his normally composed countenance now flushed with gratitude and humility. "Thank you for your praise, my lord!" he effused with warmth, his voice carrying a note of sincere appreciation.

However, as the man in white continued to wear his enigmatic smile, he gently raised a cautionary finger. "But," he began, his tone hinting at a deeper undercurrent of wisdom, "every assertion you've put forth rests upon a singular assumption—an assumption that the murderer cannot be Cha-Eun Xiao."

A ripple of contemplation washed over the man in black's visage. He listened intently, his anxiety subtly mounting. "If, perchance," the man in white continued, his voice a soothing counterpoint to the rising tension, "Cha-Eun Xiao were indeed revealed as the true perpetrator, then everything you've posited would crumble into the realm of absurdity. We would find ourselves ensnared within a labyrinth of ceaseless risks, all stemming from a seemingly inconsequential error—a single oversight."

The man in black's perspiration began to bead, a tangible manifestation of his growing unease. "But, my lord," he stammered, "this Cha-Eun Xiao is widely regarded as inept... It's a universally held belief."

"Ah, but do popular opinions transform into truths?" The man in white inquired, his smile serene and enigmatic. "Do you truly possess an intimate knowledge of Cha-Eun Xiao's abilities? Have you observed his growth firsthand or tested his mettle personally?"

Caught in the web of introspection, the man in black faltered, his words reduced to stammers. "I... I haven't," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Then," the man in white pressed on, his demeanor unwavering, "were you present at the moment of Mu Cheng-Bai's demise? Did you bear witness to the true hand behind the act?"

The man in black hesitated, then reluctantly admitted, "No... I wasn't."

"Thus," the man in white continued with measured tranquility, "how can you assert with absolute certainty that Cha-Eun Xiao both lacked the capability to kill Mu Cheng-Bai and was not responsible for it?"

A crestfallen silence hung between them, the man in black grappling with the implications of his presumptions.

"There exists a realm of uncharted possibilities, my dear Hei-Jiu," the man in white uttered, his voice unwavering in its peaceful cadence. "To pass judgment prematurely is a perilous endeavor."

"Yes, my lord," the man in black conceded, his perspiration now drenching him as a tangible symbol of humility. "You are absolutely right, my lord."

The man in white's gaze remained fixed on his disciple as he continued, "Why assume that Cha-Eun Xiao could not have been the perpetrator? Why should Mu Cheng-Bai not have met his fate at the hands of a 'foppish fool'? In our world, absolutes are scarce. Even a one-percent chance, no matter how slim, does not render a possibility impossible. It merely signifies that Cha-Eun Xiao could indeed be the murderer."

The message, though veiled in cryptic wisdom, resonated deeply with the man in black, who nodded in understanding.

"Then, my lord," he ventured, keeping his head respectfully lowered, "how should I proceed in this matter? Please guide me towards the right course of action."

A sly, almost mischievous smile curved upon the man in white's lips as he offered his counsel. "Add fuel to the fire," he suggested softly, a glint of intrigue in his gaze. "The more lives are claimed, the better. Be it members of the Mu clan, the Crown Prince's Palace, or government officials—let their numbers be of no consequence. However, Cha-Eun Xiao must remain unscathed."

The man in black's bewilderment was palpable as he sought clarification. "May I ask why, my lord?"

The man in white leaned into the enigma, his explanation layered with intrigue. "If Cha-Eun Xiao were to perish, the case would promptly conclude, its echoes fading into obscurity. Peace, my dear Hei-Jiu, is not our ally in this matter."

"Yes, my lord," the man in black acknowledged, his confusion giving way to obedience.

The man in white's voice assumed a more conspiratorial tone as he continued, "And no matter who the Mu clan sends to investigate, I desire them all to meet their end."

Hei-Jiu, now fully engrossed in his master's intrigue, nodded vigorously. "Yes, my lord!"

"By the way," the man in white inquired, his tone playfully chiding, "how goes the collection of information from the influential clans and the missions pertaining to the other two kingdoms and the grasslands? I've been awaiting your report, and it seems you've kept me waiting a day longer."

In response, Hei-Jiu wore a sheepish expression, fully aware of his delay. "My apologies, my lord. I shall expedite the process without further delay."