6: The sixth octopus has taken the bait.

The Audi Q7 pulled into the garage, but Liu Yuyan did not remove the key.

The engine died, and the car interior plunged into a silence like a sealed tin can.

The dashboard backlight illuminated her hands; her fingers were gripped tightly around the steering wheel, knuckles white.

For the hour since she returned from the western outskirts of the city, only three things had been spinning in her mind.

That closed old wooden door.

Those eyes that saw through all her thoughts.

That sentence— "Can you handle it?"

Liu Yuyan sat in the driver's seat for ten minutes before she finally loosened her grip.

She entered the villa, changed into lounge wear, boiled water, and made tea.

She performed these actions with practiced familiarity; her body was running on autopilot, her mind elsewhere.

She placed the teapot on the coffee table and sank into the sofa.

She placed the bronze piece in front of her.

The two characters for "Kindling" shimmered with a dull luster under the light.

To go, or not to go?

The tea had gone cold.

She didn't touch it.

She poured another cup.

It went cold again, and she still didn't touch it.

What would going mean?

It would mean stepping into a world that her money couldn't buy, her connections couldn't reach, and where all the chips she had accumulated over eleven years might be rendered worthless.

Behind her stood the 4,700 employees of the Liu Group, and behind each of them stood a family.

She was not alone.

Every step she took carried the weight of tens of thousands of people.

And if she didn't go?

Her grandfather's illness was cured, and the Liu Group's crisis was resolved.

The board of directors, financial reports, mergers, and social engagements—everything would remain as usual, everything under control.

Safe, secure, reasonable.

Wasn't this good?

When the third cup of tea had gone completely cold, Liu Yuyan pushed the cup aside and leaned back into the sofa, closing her eyes.

The image immediately surfaced behind her eyelids:

Golden light seeping out from her grandfather's body, gently enveloping the frame ravaged by cancer cells.

At that moment, she had been standing on a line.

On this side of the line was the world she had lived in for twenty-seven years; on the other side was something she couldn't even name.

She could pretend that line didn't exist.

She could lock the CT report in a safe, throw the bronze piece into the deepest part of a drawer, and seal off the memories of that night with reason and logic.

She could do it.

But... she wasn't reconciled.

She was all too familiar with this feeling of being unreconciled.

It was this very drive that she had relied on when she took over the Liu Group at sixteen.

Now it was burning again, burning so fiercely she couldn't sit still.

It was dark now.

Liu Yuyan didn't turn on the lights.

In the living room, only the city lights from outside filtered in, cutting across her face in strips.

Her mother had left the day after her father's funeral; she hadn't even cleared out her wardrobe before she was gone.

Later, she heard she had gone to Australia, and after that, there was no more news.

Eleven years.

She had no boyfriend, no close friends, no weekends, no holidays.

The balance of interests within the Liu Group required her to remain in a state of "waiting for the best offer," always ready to become a card at a marriage negotiation table.

This was Liu Yuyan's life.

Was this really what she wanted?

At eight in the evening, the front door chimed.

Elder Liu walked in, having changed into lounge wear, holding a cup of ginseng tea.

Seeing the living room dark, his granddaughter sitting alone on the sofa with the bronze piece placed on the coffee table before her, the old man did not reach for the light switch.

He sat down on the sofa next to her.

The two of them sat in the darkness for a while, separated by the coffee table.

Liu Yuyan spoke first, recounting everything from start to finish: how he appeared, how he refused the billion and the shares, how he only asked for that abandoned old house, and finally, how he left that sentence behind and closed the door.

After listening, Elder Liu picked up his ginseng tea and took a sip.

"He only asked for the old house?"

"Yes."

"He didn't want the billion, didn't want the shares?"

"Yes."

The old man let out a laugh.

"Yuyan, do you know what this means?"

Liu Yuyan looked over at him.

"It means his vision is not limited to money."

Elder Liu's voice was low.

"A person who disdains a billion—what is he after? A dilapidated courtyard? No—he is after a person."

Liu Yuyan's fingers curled.

"From beginning to end, the medicinal pill, the teleportation, the bronze piece, the old house—everything points to the same goal: to make you go there yourself. He is not waiting for your money; he is waiting for your choice."

The old man paused.

"He left a door open for you. Whether you push it open or not is up to you. But Grandpa can tell, you already have your answer."

Liu Yuyan didn't respond.

"You are not struggling with whether to go. You are afraid. Afraid that if you push that door open, you will never be able to return to your current life."

Elder Liu's tone was very gentle.

"But Yuyan, you have never been someone who gives in to fear. You might tremble when you are afraid, but in your entire life, there has never been a time when you stopped moving forward because of fear."

Liu Yuyan's eyes grew hot.

She turned her head, bit her lip, and stared at the night outside for a few seconds before suppressing that surge of emotion.

Elder Liu patted the back of her hand.

"Grandpa is here for the Liu family. I can handle those cunning people. You don't need to worry about the family."

The old man stood up, his tone carrying a sharpness that hadn't been seen in a long time.

"But what lies behind that door is not something the Liu Group can contain. If you have made up your mind, then go."

He pointed to himself, then to the entire brightly lit villa behind him.

"This place will always be your retreat."

He carried the ginseng tea upstairs, his footsteps fading away one by one around the corner of the staircase.

Liu Yuyan was left alone in the living room again.

She sat there until late into the night.

At three in the morning, she stood in front of her bedroom's floor-to-ceiling window, clutching the bronze piece in her palm.

The metal had been warmed by her body temperature, its edges pressing into her palm lines.

Outside, the lights of Jingzhou were still on.

Millions of lights, millions of people.

And she stood here, holding a bronze piece with a wholesale price of ten yuan, preparing to gamble on a game whose rules she didn't even know.

It was madness.

But what she did at sixteen was even crazier.

The next morning.

Liu Yuyan stood in the walk-in closet for ten minutes.

Her hand slid past the row of dark professional suits, not stopping.

She took a white shirt and a pair of black trousers.

No jewelry. No makeup.

The person in the mirror looked very young, like a fresh university graduate.

Not the head of the Liu Group, not the "Iron Lady" who made people frown at the mere mention of her name in the business world.

Just Liu Yuyan.

She put the bronze piece into the chest pocket of her shirt, right against her heart.

When she left, she passed the garage, where the row of black luxury cars waited quietly.

She didn't look, pulling out her phone to call a ride-hailing car.

One hour.

The gate of the courtyard house appeared at the end of the dirt road.

The paint on the gate had peeled away completely, revealing cracked patterns on the grayish-white wood underneath.

A tuft of foxtail grass in the door crack swayed left and right in the morning breeze.

Liu Yuyan stood before the gate, her hands hanging at her sides.

Five minutes.

She thought of nothing. And yet, she thought of everything.

She took the bronze piece out of her pocket.

Lowering her head, she looked at the two characters.

She didn't know what it meant, didn't know what was behind the door, didn't know if it was right.

But if she turned and left today, she would regret it for the rest of her life.

Just like that year when she was sixteen.

Liu Yuyan gripped the bronze piece tightly and pushed open the courtyard gate with both hands.

Front courtyard, middle courtyard—she slipped slightly on the moss on the stone path, steadied herself, and continued walking.

She stopped before the old wooden door in the innermost room.

Light shone through the cracks in the door.

Extremely faint, not sunlight.

Warm, golden, as if something was quietly burning behind the door.

Liu Yuyan raised her hand.

Knock, knock, knock.

Three times, unhurriedly.

Her heart was beating fast. Her hand did not tremble.

Ten seconds of silence.

The door opened.

Light poured out, pale golden and warm, carrying a scent of mixed metal and ancient wood that washed over her face.

Black clothes, a mask, those eyes.

As calm as a thousand-year-old well.

But this time, there was something more at the bottom of that well; she couldn't tell if it was satisfaction or relief.

"You have made your decision."

"Yes."

Liu Yuyan said, "I want to know everything."

Su Chen stepped aside.

"Follow me."

Liu Yuyan crossed the threshold.

The old wooden door behind her closed silently.

The sensation under her feet changed.

The rotten wooden planks had vanished, replaced by dark gray ancient stone bricks, rough yet flat, with thin golden rays flowing between the gaps.

All the musty smell in the air that belonged to the old house was cut off in an instant.

What flooded into her nostrils was something else:

Deep, quiet, ancient, like opening a tomb that had been sealed for thousands of years, but inside there was no aura of death, only the weight of time itself.

In front of her was a straight stone corridor.

The stone walls on both sides were polished enough to reflect her image, and at the corners were carved runes of unknown origin.

Above her, there was no sky, no sun, only a stagnant pale golden light dome, shining down evenly.

Liu Yuyan's steps became slower with each stride.

With every step she took, the echo bounced between the stone walls, carrying a solemnity that did not seem to be of her own making.

Her gaze swept across the left wall—

A mural.

Silver-white holy armor, a blade of light held high.

In a dark wilderness, a knight was cleaving a hideous monster lunging at him in two; holy light exploded from the cross pattern on the armor, illuminating the entire stone wall.

Liu Yuyan's heart gave a heavy thump.

She stopped in front of the mural, her breathing becoming light.

Su Chen, walking in front, did not turn back.

Under his mask, the corner of his mouth moved slightly.

A line of text quietly popped up in the corner of his vision from the system interface—

"Realism +38"

The fish has taken the bait.