Myth Beyond Heaven

Chapter 2188 Amnesia

A frantic pounding echoed through the imposing gates of the Azure Cloud Yun Clan manor, shattering the serene afternoon. Yun Ling, her face etched with worry, rushed through the entrance, her heart hammering against her ribs.

Guards, clad in gleaming silver armor, materialized in her path, their expressions hardening at the sight of the distraught woman.

“Announce my arrival to the Clan Head immediately,” she declared, her voice tight with urgency. “It’s a matter of grave importance.”

The guards exchanged a hesitant glance, aware of Yun Ling’s high standing within the clan as the Third Young Master’s most trusted confidante. But protocol dictated caution in such situations.

“Forgive my intrusion, Lady Yun Ling,” the lead guard, a man named Wei Chang, stated respectfully. “However, the Clan Head is currently in a closed-door meeting with the First Elder. Would you like to wait here?”

“There’s no time!” Yun Ling cried, her voice laced with desperation. “The Third Young Master… he has awakened!”

Wei Chang’s eyes bulged in surprise. News of Yun Lintian’s brutalization and subsequent coma had sent shockwaves through the Yun Clan a week ago. More importantly, it had severely tarnished the clan’s prestige. Yet, Yun Lintian was their heir apparent, and despite widespread disapproval, open criticism remained unthinkable.

“Come in,” Wei Chang muttered, stepping aside to allow Yun Ling hurried passage.

Her haste stood in stark contrast to the expected decorum within the opulent manor. She weaved through the halls, her footsteps echoing off the polished marble, until she reached the massive oak doors leading to the Patriarch’s study.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Yun Ling rapped on the doors with a fierce urgency.

“Enter,” rumbled a deep, gruff voice from within.

Yun Ling flung open the doors, ignoring the startled expressions of Yun Wuhan and the stoic First Elder, Yun Qinghong.

Yun Wuhan, a man in his prime with a strong jawline and piercing eyes, rose from his seat, a flicker of hope flickering in his gaze.

Were Yun Lintian present, he might notice the uncanny resemblance between Yun Wuhan and his own father back in his world.

“How is Tian’er?” Yun Wuhan boomed, his voice a mix of relief and barely concealed apprehension.

Before he could finish, Yun Ling rushed forward, collapsing onto her knees with a heart-wrenching sob.

“Patriarch! Something bad happened to Third Young Master!” she cried, tears streaming down her face.

Yun Wuhan’s face paled. The fragile hope that had bloomed within him withered in an instant. “What do you mean? Explain yourself!”

Yun Ling, her voice choked with emotion, recounted the devastating truth about Yun Lintian’s amnesia.

The room plunged into a chilling silence as the weight of her revelation settled upon them.

Yun Wuhan swayed, his hand gripping the armrest of his chair for support. His face contorted with a mix of disbelief, grief, and a terrifying rage.

“Amnesia! How could this be?!” he muttered.

Across from him, Yun Qinghong, the First Elder, sat with a smug expression, his eyes gleaming with a malicious glint. This news, he knew, was a double-edged sword for Yun Wuhan. While Yun Lintian’s awakening was a cause for celebration, the potential ramifications of his amnesia were a cause for immense worry.

“Are you certain, Yun Ling?” Yun Wuhan finally managed, his voice a strained rasp.

Yun Ling, her face pale and streaked with tears, nodded fervently. “Absolutely, Clan Head. He remembers nothing. Not even his name or his standing within the clan.”

Yun Wuhan’s heart sank. Amnesia. It was a cruel twist of fate, robbing his son of his memories and his very identity. He could only imagine the confusion and fear Yun Lintian must be experiencing.

Yun Qinghong, however, saw an opportunity. Leaning forward in his chair, he spoke in a honeyed tone that dripped with feigned concern. “This is a most unfortunate turn of events, Clan Head. Perhaps the heavens have deemed Lintian unfit to carry the mantle of leadership.”

Bang!

Yun Wuhan slammed his fist on the table, the force of the blow sending tremors through the room. A surge of anger coursed through him, fueled by the First Elder’s callous words and the helplessness gnawing at his insides.

“Silence, First Elder!” he roared, his voice laced with raw emotion. “My son is not a pawn in your petty games. We will find a cure for this affliction, no matter the cost!”

Yun Qinghong’s face contorted in a barely concealed sneer. “Of course, Clan Head. But resources are scarce, and the upcoming Azure Cloud Convention…”

He trailed off, leaving the unspoken implication hanging heavy in the air.

The Azure Cloud Convention, the pinnacle event within Azure Cloud City, saw each clan sending their most promising young leaders to compete. The victor would claim the right to manage the Sacred Groves – sacred locations within the Azure Region overflowing with elemental sources, vital for cultivation.

Yun Wuhan saw through the First Elder’s veiled threat. The man was using Yun Lintian’s misfortune to further his own agenda, to weaken the Patriarch’s position and potentially pave the way for his own rise to power.

With a deep breath, Yun Wuhan fought to regain his composure. He knew he couldn’t afford to let his emotions cloud his judgment. Yun Lintian needed him now more than ever.

“I will handle this myself, First Elder,” he declared, his voice firm with resolve. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a son to see to.”

Without waiting for a response, Yun Wuhan rose from his chair and strode out of the study, his powerful aura leaving an oppressive silence in his wake.

Yun Qinghong watched the retreating figure, a chilling smirk twisting his features. “Yun Wuhan,” he hissed, his voice barely a whisper, “heaven itself favors me. Your time is running out.”

***

Yun Wuhan’s departure from the manor was swiftly followed by the dissemination of news regarding Yun Lintian’s amnesia. It was no secret that Yun Qinghong was behind this calculated leak.

Inside a luxuriously appointed room on the top floor of the White Lotus House, a captivating woman named Situ Lan sat before a vanity mirror, her nimble fingers combing through her long, silky hair.

The tranquility of the moment shattered with the sudden burst of a young maidservant, Tong Qi, who barged into the room, her voice bubbling with excitement.

“Wonderful news, Miss!” Tong Qi exclaimed, a mischievous glint sparkling in her eyes. “That wretched Yun Lintian – he’s lost his memory! They say he’s been beaten into a complete fool!”

Situ Lan’s hand, holding the comb mid-stroke, stilled for a fleeting moment. A flicker of something akin to surprise crossed her features before she set the comb down. “Tell me everything,”