Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Who are you?" She asked bravely, stepping in front of her younger brother, shielding him as she faced the stranger. The man was smiling, far too gently for someone she didn’t know.

It made her feel uneasy.

"I'm Jiang Fengmian, your father's old friend," He replied with a calm, steady voice, offering his hand to her. "I heard your parents’ deaths years ago. Since then, I’ve been searching for the two of you."

"How are you even sure we’re the children of that friend of yours?" She asked warily, her tone sharp with suspicion. She didn’t budge. How could he recognize them when he had never met them before? She was sure of it.

"Aren’t you Wei Hui and Wei Ying?" The man in the purple robes asked gently, crouching down to meet her eyes. His voice was soft, deliberate. "I can offer you shelter—a home, food, and a family. You’ll be safe there."

She hesitated.

The cold, cracked streets of Yiling returned to her mind like a shadow. Nights when hunger gnawed at their stomachs, days when she had failed to earn a single coin.

Then came the image of her little brother—Wei Ying.

She turned slightly, glancing behind her. He was half-hidden behind her robes, tiny hands gripping the edge of her tattered outer garment. His wide eyes looked up at her—innocent, curious, and trusting. Her heart clenched.

She then remembered the people in Yiling. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw them watching—secretly, quietly. Their worry was visible in the way their brows furrowed, the way their hands paused mid-task.

They were fine here, alone. Most of the time, they got to eat. The people were kind—truly kind.

But how long, exactly, would everything stay this way?

She bit the inside of her cheek—pondering, thinking.
Then she drew a deep breath, as if trying to gather strength from the air itself. Slowly, she turned to face the man once more.

Her fingers hovered uncertainly over his outstretched hand—then, with great hesitation, she took it. At the same time, she gently reached behind to grasp her brother’s hand as well, bringing him closer to her side.

"Okay," She said softly, her voice laced with quiet resolve. "We’ll come with you."

Chapter Text

The Choi Shi in Yiling was silent. Not eerily, but still and heavy, neither crowded nor noisy, as every household rested quietly behind their doors. Peace settled over the town like a silk veil… until it was pierced by a distant, blood-curdling shriek.

Inside an inn, two couples jolted upright. The two children between them stirred, disturbed by the noise.

Wei Changze was the first to rise, instinctively reaching for his children. He gently patted their back to comfort, while Changse Sanren swiftly made her way to the window. With a single practiced motion, she slid it open and peered outside.

Another shriek echoed—closer this time. Changse Sanren’s eyes met her husband’s. No words were exchanged, but things were clear.

From the bed, the eldest child blinked awake. The room was dim, but the silver gleam of her eyes caught the moonlight—reflective, alert, wise despite her young age.

“A-Diē? A-Niáng?” The little girl murmured through a yawn. She sat up, now cradled in her father’s arms.

“We’re here, darling,” Wei Changze assured her, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

Another scream. Louder. Sharper.

Wei Hui flinched. Her eyes darted up to meet her father’s eyes. But Wei Changze only smiled—warm, gentle, comforting.

“Bǎobèi,” Her mother said softly, kneeling before her. “You heard that, didn’t you?”

Wei Hui nodded.

“That means… A-Niáng and A-Diē have to go for a little while. Just to check.”

The girl looked at her with wide, curious eyes, unafraid but filled with wonder.

“I promise, we’ll come back soon. So wait for us here, alright?” Her mother leaned in and kissed her on the temple. “Take care of your little brother and yourself while we’re gone, Bǎobèi.”

“I will, A-Niáng,” She answered with a brave, bright smile.

Even at her young age, she understood. She always did. She had to. And when her parents promised to come back, she believed them—because they always had.

So she buried the bubbling worry rising in her chest and nestled beside her brother, eyes quietly watching as their parents donned their robes, checked their weapons, and prepared to leave.

At the door, they paused. Both Wei Changze and Changse Sanren turned back, smiling at her reassuringly.

She smiled back. She waved.

And then, she waited.

And waited.

And waited…

But they never returned.

They didn’t come back.

Not this time.

And somehow… deep in her heart, she knew what had happened.

Her parents were not the type to abandon their children. It was not the first time they left and promised to return, but it was the first time that they did not return.

Her lips trembled.

She wanted to cry, to scream like that night had screamed. But she couldn’t. Not when her little brother was beside her, tugging at her sleeve, asking again and again,

“Where’s A-Niáng? Where’s A-Diē?”

She had no answer. She truly didn’t know. And yet… somehow, deep down, she did.

And Heaven knows how many times she had thought—maybe if she had said something, if she had begged, she could’ve stopped them. Or at the very least… she could’ve asked them to cradle her brother, to kiss him before they walked out of that door.

But she hadn’t. And now… it was too late.

Blinking through the sting in her eyes, she turned to look at her brother, Wei Ying. Small. Innocent. Waiting.

With trembling hands, she gently pulled him close, wrapping her arms around him. She kissed his forehead, just as their mother had kissed hers the night before they left. Just as their father had held her close.

As if by doing so, she could pass that memory on to him. As if she could hold the warmth a little longer for both of them.

It wasn’t long before they were kicked out of the inn. Their parents had paid enough for them to stay a few more days—but not enough for them to stay forever.

She didn’t argue with the innkeeper. She simply, quietly, took Wei Ying by the hand and gently led him away, covering his ears from the harsh words thrown at their backs.

She winced.

What could a nine-year-old child possibly do?

So she began to think.

To plan.

Maybe she could find work—carry loads, run errands for a workshop… anything. Hopefully, someone would accept her. She needed to earn money, just enough to buy food.

They could sleep anywhere, even on the streets—but food? Food wouldn’t come from nowhere.

She always remembered what their father always said. Stealing is wrong, no matter the reason. Their mother, of course, playful as always, teased their father by commenting that he should not stop them from having fun.

“A-Hui, you must always remember. No matter what, in any circumstances, you should not steal. It is bad.” Her father’s voice was clear in her memory. Gentle. Soothing. Comforting, even while lecturing.

From the other side of the room, there is Changse Sanren, cross-legged on the floor, Wei Ying on her lap, who is playing with the soil from a potted plant on the table.

“A-Ze, let the kids have a little fun!” Their mother had said, grinning from ear to ear.

Wei Changze only sighed.

She smiled softly at the memory.

She looked around, seemingly lost, as she held her brother's hand. When she saw an abandoned house down a quiet alley, she gently dragged her brother there and settled inside.

"A-Ying?" Wei Ying looked up at her.

She smiled. "Uhm, we're going to stay here for now, okay?"

Pouting his lips, Wei Ying nodded.

"Don't worry, Jie will always be here." She patted his head, pulled him into a hug, and kissed his temple.

Bringing her brother to the side of the house that still had a roof, she roamed around and found a pile of untouched robes. She gathered them and brought them back to where she had left her brother, layering the robes on the ground and folding some to make a pillow.

"Lie down, A-Ying. It's almost Hai Shi." She patted the self-made bed and gently guided Wei Ying onto it.

"Night-night, Jie," Wei Ying giggled, making her smile.

Over the next few days, the two of them settled into the abandoned house, often going out in search of food. Wei Hui practically begged the vendors at nearby stalls to let her run errands in exchange for something—anything—even just a bit of food. She would look up at them with teary, glassy silver eyes, gripping Wei Ying's small hand tightly.

Whenever Wei Ying saw his sister upset, he would pat her hand and ask softly, "Jie sad?" Then his eyes would start to well up with tears, too.

Fortunately, some vendors took pity on them. They were touched by her determination and impressed by her attitude, so they agreed to help.

Wei Hui worked—throwing out trash, cleaning, running errands, delivering food or small items she could carry. They paid her sometimes in coins, sometimes in meals. On days when the weather was bad and the vendors didn’t open their stalls, she had to sit by the roadside, hoping to find someone who might spare some food.

There were times she came back empty-handed. All she could do was whisper a soft “Sorry” to Wei Ying, who cried quietly from hunger.

She would also fight street kids who would try to bully her brother. And oh boy, she was horrified when she saw her brother destroy his taste buds by putting a huge amount of chili in his food, afraid that the other street kids would steal it away from him, so he showed them how he poured the oil and hastily ate it.

Wei Ying cried the whole day and night after that.

There were times when she had to leave her brother behind, and the next thing she knew, she’d come back to find Wei Ying being chased by dogs. She immediately ran after him, throwing stones to drive the dogs away, then hugged the trembling boy tightly. Since then, Wei Ying has been afraid of dogs. She wanted to help him overcome it, but couldn’t bear to watch her little brother shake and cry in fear.

Wei Hui felt like their life had fallen into a cycle. They slept before Hai Shi, and she would wake at Mao Shi, buy food, and wake her brother at Chen Shi. After breakfast, she taught him how to read and write. Then, at Wu Shi, she would leave for work. She returned around You Shi—sometimes with food, sometimes with coins, and sometimes with nothing at all.

There was one time she came back late, and she panicked when she didn’t find Wei Ying where she had left him. Frantically, she searched the area and let out a breath of relief when she finally saw him sitting at the side of the street, a straw doll placed in front of him.

She was just about to approach him when another child, about Wei Ying’s age, came over first. The boy wore a white and blue robe with a cloud pattern, a white forehead ribbon tied neatly across his brow, and in his small hand, he held a drumstick toy.

Shaking the drumstick gently, the boy extended his hand, offering it to Wei Ying. She watched as her brother’s eyes widened—silent, struck with awe, staring at the boy before him.

The other child seemed a little impatient, shaking the drum again, likely signaling for Wei Ying to take it. She couldn’t help but smile when her brother finally accepted the toy and played with it, smiling brightly at the boy.

She couldn’t hear what he said, but the moment her little brother’s lips parted, she knew—he was saying thank you.

She took a step forward to finally approach them, when a voice called out, soft and slightly panicked.

“A-Zhan?”

She hummed, guessing it must be the other boy’s name.

Turning toward the voice, she saw a boy not far from her age hurrying toward them. The younger boy beside Wei Ying nodded at him before turning around.

“Huan-ge,” She heard, just before the two of them disappeared into the crowd.

What a shame.

She wasn’t able to thank him.

That whole night, her brother beamed with joy, happily playing with the drumstick the other boy had given him. And that whole night too, she smiled at her brother's joy.

The next few days were the same for both Wei Hui and Wei Ying—a routine, a cycle. Repetitive. Boring.

But Wei Ying was still happy—because someone had given him a toy! A real toy!

He beamed at the thought once again.

“Jie… Jie, jie,” he called repeatedly, waving the toy in front of his older sister.

“A-Ying?” Wei Hui finally looked up at him.

“Yingying is hungry,” he said, rubbing his belly with an exaggerated pout, making his sister laugh.

“No laughing! Yingying is hungry!” he huffed.

“Oh—sorry, A-Ying,” Wei Hui replied with a gentle smile, standing up and reaching for the small pouch she had hidden under a pile of robes. “I’ll go out and buy food, okay? Stay here.” And with that, she left.

Today, Wei Hui didn’t go out to work or run errands. She had decided to spend the day with her little brother—and Wei Ying was more than happy to hear it. He jumped and ran around, both tiny fists raised in the air, his giggles loud and clear.

Ever since their parents disappeared, they haven’t had much time together. Wei Hui was always working to provide for them. That’s why, after months, getting a whole day with his Jie felt like a dream come true.

And seeing his reaction, Wei Hui felt no regret, only gladness.

Wei Ying kept himself busy while waiting, carefully copying characters onto a piece of paper his sister had left open for him. His Jie always taught him how to read and write—and she made it fun, so he never got bored.

With his clumsy little hands, he messily traced the strokes onto the paper. Though his writing was disastrous, he moved with care and concentration. He could already imagine his Jie sighing once she sees it.

Like the little devil he is, he made his handwriting even messier—deliberately changing the characters, letting the brush trail far beyond the lines his sister had drawn as guides. When he got bored, he dropped the brush and flopped onto the hard ground with a soft thud.

"Jie, Jie, Jie," He chanted.

"Ying, Ying, Ying." He pouted dramatically.

"Hungry, gry, gry."

Wei Ying squinted at the sky through a hole in the roof above them. The soft blue peeked through like a watchful eye.

He huffed and stuck out his tongue.

Then, suddenly, the sky grumbled with thunder. His eyes widened. He scrambled to his feet, running to the side of the house where the roof was still whole.

Pouting, he whispered, "Sky angry at Yingying?"

He didn’t know the sky could get mad… Was it because he stuck his tongue out?

Stretching both arms upward—just like his Jie had taught him—he looked up solemnly.

“Sky, Yingying is sorry,” he said, bowing deeply. “Don’t be mad.”

From his lowered position, he tried to sneak a peek at the sky again—but instead, he found his sister standing in front of him, one brow raised, those same silver eyes looking down at him.

“Jieeee!!!” Wei Ying cried out joyfully. He dashed toward her and hugged her waist. “Sky hangry!”

“What?” Wei Hui blinked, confused.

“Yingying just stuck his tongue out, then it got mad!” He waved his arms in a wild, circling motion. “Then—thunder! It's angry at Yingying!”

Not able to hold herself together—she laughed.

“I don’t know if I should be worried...” she said through her smile.

Wei Ying pouted. “Food!” He declared, suddenly reminded of his hunger as his stomach growled again.

Wei Hui chuckled and showed him the food she had brought. With a warm smile, she ushered him to wash his hands and sit down, setting the meal on the barely-standing table.

The Wei siblings sat together and shared their simple meal, laughter echoing softly through the quiet ruins of their little shelter.

Later that afternoon, for the first time, Wei Ying and Wei Hui roamed around Yiling together.

Wei Hui was somewhat known in the area—and so was Wei Ying. After all, she was the only little girl who ran errands for vendors to earn food and coins, rather than steal. And Wei Ying? Her one and only little brother.

Despite their differences, the two shared a hauntingly striking resemblance. With Wei Hui taller and more mature in presence, they almost looked like twins.

Holding tightly to his older sister’s hand, Wei Ying curiously looked around. Some people called out to his Jie, and now and then, someone would hand them food—free of charge. That always made him happy. His Jie would talk to them with a smile, polite and respectful, just as she always was.

Wei Ying admired her deeply.

She’s the best!

Always the best!

That’s why, when another child started watching them while he was animatedly chatting with his sister, and his Jie gave her bun to the kid—he pouted.

Then she started talking to the kid, gently wiping his face and even offering the handkerchief a kind vendor had gifted her.

Wei Ying’s pout deepened.

“Jieeeee,” he called out, dragging out her name.

For the first time, Wei Ying felt this petty.

It was supposed to be their sibling time! How could she share it with someone else?

He crossed his arms, refusing to budge.

Wei Hui just smiled softly, patting the other child’s head before watching him leave.

Finally, she turned to her sulking little brother.

“Okay, okay, let’s go now, A-Ying.” She took his hand again, her smile never fading.

Chapter Text

The wooden door creaked open as she slowly pushed it with her small body. She peeked inside. The room was nearly empty, except for the lone librarian standing to the side.

Yesterday, while she and Wei Ying were roaming around, she hadn’t expected to stumble upon a public library in Yiling. They had stopped by for a moment, but left soon after A-Ying dragged her away.

The library wasn’t large, but to her, it felt big.

Cautiously, she stepped inside and approached the librarian. With a polite smile, she bowed. “Hello, madam.”

The librarian looked up from her book. “What is a little girl doing here?”

“Ah… Is it okay if I stay here for a while and read some books?” She asked directly, and her tone was sincere. She stood up straight and didn’t even blink.

The librarian raised an eyebrow. “Do you know how to read?”

She nodded eagerly. “Mn!”

“Alright. Do whatever you want—just don’t steal or damage the books.

Wei Hui beamed and bowed deeply. “Thank you!”

The librarian waved her off, shooing her away. Wei Hui didn’t mind, so she turned away and began exploring the shelves, scanning each section one by one until something caught her eye.

Cultivation.

Her gaze landed on a book titled:

Beginning: To Build a Golden Core

She looked around, then slowly dragged a wooden box over so she could step on it and reach the shelf. Tiptoeing, she stretched her arms, struggling to grasp the book. When she leaned closer, she finally managed to pull it free and out of the shelf. Though she has to hold onto the edge of the shelf to prevent herself from falling.

Triumphant, she jumped down with a smile, hugging the book tightly to her chest.

She once again wandered through the rows of dusty shelves until she found a quiet little corner tucked beneath a narrow window, where the sunlight stretched across the tabletop in soft, golden beams.

The table was old, uneven, with one leg shorter than the others, but it's fine as long as it's standing, so she slipped into the seat. Looking up through the window, she watched the sky, painted in pale blue with a few wisps of white clouds drifting through. She closed her eyes for a breath and let her shoulders drop. Then came the breeze, cool and faint. It brushed her cheeks, tugged at the edge of her sleeve, lifted a strand of her hair. Caressing.

For a moment, she let herself feel it all. The peace, the warmth, the soft hush of being unseen and unneeded. She wasn’t fetching water, delivering food, or scrubbing stalls. She wasn’t pretending she wasn’t tired. She wasn’t holding her brother’s hand while trying not to show how scared she sometimes was.

In this little pocket of light, with the sky peering at her from the window and a book in her lap, she wasn’t just someone’s big sister or a child growing up too fast.

She was just a girl.

And she let herself breathe like one.

Setting the book gently on the table, she opened it with quiet reverence and began to read, each word sinking into her like a drop of water into dry earth—eager, focused, and hungry to remember everything.

It wasn’t hard for her. She had a good memory, exceptionally well. Even a single glance was enough to imprint something into her mind.

She didn’t know how or why. It had always been that way since she was a toddler.

All she knew was that she was good at memorizing things.

A gentle silence settled around her as she focused on the book, not eerie or heavy, but warm and comforting, like a soft blanket wrapped around the quiet corners of her world.

How to form a golden core

To form a golden core, one must engage in disciplined meditation, martial arts training, and the controlled harnessing of spiritual energy. Through focused breathing and meditation techniques, spiritual energy is drawn in from the environment and guided through the body's meridians—a network of internal energy pathways. This energy is then stored in the dantian, the energy center located just below the solar plexus. Over time, with continuous accumulation, refinement, and compression, the spiritual energy condenses into a golden, orb-like core—the foundation of advanced cultivation.

She pondered. 

How to meditate? 

She flipped through the pages, but the book only discussed the foundations of forming a golden core—how to strengthen it, how to discipline oneself after its formation. It wasn’t enough.

With a quiet sigh, she stood up and returned to the section where she had found the book.

Skimming along the shelves, she scanned the titles carefully, occasionally tiptoeing to see the higher rows more clearly. She spent nearly half an hour browsing through the collection, her fingers trailing over faded spines, until she finally came across a pair of books—one on meditation techniques, the other on martial arts.

She pushed aside the first book she had read and opened the one on meditation—then paused.

Come to think of it… hadn’t their mother and father taught her this once before?

But… her brows furrowed. Yes, they had—but Wei Hui had always felt it wasn’t enough. What they taught her back then had been scattered, simple, wrapped in the warmth of family, not the clarity of structured knowledge. Now, she needs more. She needed to understand it again, properly, fully.

Ever since their disappearance, her memories of them had grown hazy, like ink left too long in the rain. But that was by design. She had forced herself to forget, to blur the details on purpose. Because if she didn’t, she’d break down and cry like a child begging for parents who would never return.

Blinking the thoughts away, she opened the book.

Meditation.

Meditation involves the gathering and condensing of spiritual energy (qi) within the body to form a golden core. This process demands discipline and regular practice, incorporating breathing exercises, visualization, and focused attention on key energy centers. It is essential to remain attuned to your physical and mental state—adjusting your practice when discomfort or imbalance arises.

1. Gathering Qi

Breathwork: Use deep, rhythmic diaphragmatic breathing to draw in qi from the surrounding environment, guiding it gently into your body’s core.

Visualization: With each inhale, envision luminous energy flowing into your body. Picture it gathering in a specific center—such as the lower abdomen (dantian), the heart, or the space between the eyebrows.

Body Alignment: Maintain an aligned posture—typically a naturally straight spine while sitting—to ensure smooth qi circulation.

2. Condensing the Core

Focus: Direct your awareness to a specific energy center—commonly the lower dantian or the heart center—without letting your attention drift.

Visualization: Visualize the gathered qi solidifying into a radiant, golden orb, pulsing gently with life.

Letting Go: Release distractions and mental chatter, allowing your mind to become still and receptive to the flow of energy.

Patience: Understand that forming the golden core is a gradual, unfolding process that demands perseverance and calm dedication.

3. Maintaining and Refining the Core

Regular Practice: Commit to daily meditation to nourish and sustain the golden core over time.

Refining Qi: Continue cultivating and purifying the qi within your core, slowly increasing its density, stability, and strength.

Advanced Techniques: As your foundation stabilizes, explore deeper methods and inner visualizations to enhance and elevate the golden core’s refinement.

She continued reading—absorbing each section about proper meditation posture, how to still the mind, and align the breath with intent. She didn’t notice how the light changed, how the sun outside the window slowly sank beneath the rooftops. Too immersed in the text, time passed without her realizing it.

“Girl, are you planning to sleep here?”

She flinched, startled by the sudden voice behind her.

Turning around, she saw the librarian eyeing her and the pile of books with a raised brow. Wei Hui followed her gaze and glanced out the window, surprised by how dark the sky had become.

“Ah...” She blinked. “I’m sorry.” She stood up quickly and bowed. “I’ll return the books to the shelves—”

The librarian raised a hand to stop her. “You don’t have to. I’m sure you’ll be back tomorrow to read them again. Just leave them here. Now go—you’ve got a little brother waiting for you, don’t you?”

Wei Hui gasped softly. “Yes—thank you!” She said, bowing quickly again before dashing out of the library.

On her way back, she stopped at a small food stall, dug into her cloth pouch, and handed over a few precious coins—just enough for a simple meal. She cradled the warm bundle of food in her arms and hurried home.

“A-Ying?” she called as she reached the broken wooden door of the abandoned house.

“Jie!” her little brother squealed, leaping out from behind the doorway, nearly making her jump. “Where were you!” he pouted, arms crossed, cheeks puffed out like a balloon, his tiny finger pointing at her in exaggerated offense.

She exhaled a soft sigh—part guilt, part relief.

“Jie is sorry,” she said gently, crouching down to his level. “Jie went to the library to read some books.”

She pulled him into her arms and kissed the top of his head. “Here, I brought us food. And next time, I promise I’ll bring you with me, so you won’t have to be alone.”

At her words, Wei Ying’s eyes lit up with joy. 

As promised, Wei Hui brought Wei Ying with her. But before heading to the library, she did a few errands for the local vendors.

“A-Hui, deliver this to Qin Long.” Said the vendor selling steamed buns, handing her a box. It was a bit heavy, but not too much for her to carry. The old lady then placed some money and a plastic bag of buns on top of it.

“It might fall off, Granny…” Wei Hui cautioned.

The old lady blinked, then chuckled softly. She removed the items and turned to Wei Ying.

“Hello, A-Ying. Can you hold this for your sister?” She asked kindly.

With a wide smile, A-Ying accepted both the money and the bag of buns. “Good boy,” the old lady said, patting his head.

The other vendors nearby watched with fond smiles. The sight of the two siblings was familiar, almost like watching someone else’s children grow up before their eyes. Some of them had tried to take the siblings in before, but Hui always refused. She understood how hard their lives already were and didn’t want to add to their burdens. The vendors didn’t insist. Instead, they supported the siblings in quiet ways, giving blankets, clothes, and food when they could.

They saw Hui as a strong and intelligent child, already independent at such a young age. Still, they worry. She kept her emotions carefully guarded, always calm, always smiling. Some even wished their own stubborn, unruly children were more like her.

With Wei Ying clutching the hem of her sash, Wei Hui made her way to Qin Long’s stall. It wasn't that far, but it was at the other end of the stalls.

“Hi, Uncle Long,” She greeted with a polite bow. “This is from Granny Heng.”

Qin Long smiled warmly and patted both their heads before accepting the box. “Thank you, A-Hui. Would you like some skewers? Go sit over there and wait a bit. Eat those steamed buns while they’re still hot.”

Wei Hui nodded, smiling gratefully, and led her brother to sit down.

She took the money from Wei Ying’s small hands and tucked it into her pouch. Then, carefully, she wiped his hands with a clean handkerchief—gifted to her by another vendor—before handing him a bun.

Wei Ying settled down beside her, nibbling on the bun, his eyes wandering while his free hand played with a trail of ants nearby. Seeing that he was content, she finally took her bun and began to eat.

“A-Ying, stay still.” She said gently.

The younger boy pouted but did as told, for a while. Before long, he began wiggling in his seat again. Wei Hui sighed but said nothing more.

Not long after, Qin Long brought over a plate and water, setting them down in front of the siblings. Then, he handed Wei Hui some money.

“Here. Eat up, and thank you for delivering the box safely.”

“Thank you, Uncle Long. You’re welcome,” she replied with a smile.

Qin Long simply nodded and returned to his work.

Wei Ying happily helped her with her errands. Sometimes the vendors would carry him in their arms or place food into his small hands. There were even times when Hui could only stand back and watch his chubby cheeks get lovingly pinched.

She smiled at the sound of his soft complaints.

Before Wei Shi, the siblings paused to eat and rest. Once Wei Hui felt they’d had enough of a break, the two of them finally made their way to the library.

Stopping in front of the librarian’s desk, Wei Hui gave a polite bow after guiding her brother to do the same. “Hi, Madam Librarian.”

The librarian hummed in acknowledgment and waved them off, shooing them away.

Smiling, Wei Hui gently took her brother’s hand and led him to the little corner she had used the day before. The pile of books she had been reading was still there, untouched, open to the same pages, making her smile.

She guided her brother to sit down and took out a slightly crumpled piece of paper from her sleeve. Placing it in front of him, she opened the ink and set the brush beside it.

“Practice your writing again, A-Ying.” Her little brother nodded and began without protest.

Turning her attention to the books, Wei Hui resumed reading. Occasionally, she shifted between different books, glanced at the book in front of her, or checked on what Wei Ying was doing. Sometimes she corrected him. Sometimes she made him read aloud.

Now and then, they would pause, play quietly, and laugh together in hushed voices.

The librarian watched them from the corner of her eye, allowing a small smile to tug at her lips.

After all, who wouldn’t smile at such a sight? They looked so small, so peaceful, so undeniably adorable.

Chapter Text

Wei Ying sat on the floor without a sound, his silver eyes fixed intently on the librarian in front of him, who, in return, stared right back at him.

Earlier, Wei Hui had left her little brother in the library, asking a small favor of the librarian to watch over him. The woman wasn’t particularly busy, and though she didn’t look thrilled, she agreed with a sigh.

Over the past few months, with the two siblings spending more and more time in the library, Wei Hui had grown close to the librarian. Despite her grumpy demeanor and perpetually raised brow, the elder woman had gradually softened toward them. She often gave in to their quiet, persistent presence and, before long, began indulging their whims—albeit with theatrical reluctance.

The librarian wasn’t old, but she wasn’t young either. She had long brown hair, fair skin, and sharp brown eyes that didn’t miss much. She was tall, often looking down at the world over the rim of her glasses. Wei Hui and Wei Ying had once met her daughter, a cheerful girl who usually stayed with her father at work. The girl was somewhere between Wei Hui and Wei Ying in age, making it easy for the three of them to get along. Since then, the librarian’s daughter has started visiting the library more often—sometimes playing with Wei Ying, other times chatting with Wei Hui. Regardless of the moment, she found the two siblings both adorable and endlessly amusing.

But today, the librarian found herself in a silent, unmoving standoff with Wei Ying.

He hadn’t moved from his spot on the floor since Wei Hui left. He just sat there, legs crossed, eyes locked on her like he was trying to read her soul. His only movement was the occasional blink. The tension was bizarrely intense for someone so small. Unnerved, the librarian met his glare with one of her own.

“…Jie?” He finally asked.

“I don’t know.”

“I want Jie.”

“She’s not here.”

Wei Ying frowned, his brows furrowing in irritation. Where was his Jie? She had been unusually busy these past few days, and he didn’t like it one bit.

“What she doing?”

“I don’t know.”

He huffed loudly, crossing his arms and glaring harder.

“Why you not know?!”

“Because she didn’t tell me where she was going,” The librarian snapped, rolling her eyes. “And don’t think I didn’t see you sneaking a raccoon in here!”

Wei Ying gasped, eyes wide, and then, without hesitation, scrambled to his feet and bolted.

“Coons are cute!”

“They’ll destroy the books, A-Ying!”

“Nooo!” He cried, his giggles echoing through the quiet aisles of the library.

The librarian could only sigh in defeat.

A little far from Yiling, near a quiet spring nestled among the trees, Wei Hui stood on top of a large rock. Her long hair was tied in a high ponytail with a red ribbon, the same style she always used for her younger brother. Glancing around, she recalled all the meditation instructions from the books she had read, searching for the ideal spot to practice.

She had spent hours looking for a secluded place and eventually found this spring tucked away in a small forest. It was peaceful—the gentle flow of water echoing softly through the trees. The sun shone brightly above, the water was crystal clear, and not a single dead leaf floated in sight. It was untouched, perfect.

The trees swayed with the breeze, sunlight dancing over the surface of the spring, making it shimmer. Fish swam freely in the calm waters, unbothered. A small waterfall flowed gracefully over smooth stones.

Wei Hui smiled. It was such a serene sight. She felt blessed, as if fate had guided her here. Clapping her hands together, she stepped carefully onto a small island in the middle of the river. After one final scan to ensure the area was safe, she sat down in the lotus position. Hands resting on her knees, she straightened her back, inhaled, and closed her eyes. Her brows furrowed in concentration as she recalled everything she had read.

Clearing her mind, she focused on her breath—slow, deep, deliberate. She didn’t know how much time passed before the world around her began to fade into stillness.

At first, there was only darkness and silence. Then, slowly, she heard the flow of water, the rustle of leaves, the breath of wind. Heat bloomed within her body. She inhaled deeply, envisioning the luminous energy flowing through her body, just as the book instructed.

Again, time slipped by unnoticed. Then came the golden threads, a flow of energy, just like the book described. The illustration in the book had been gray and black, but it clearly said that true energy flow would shine gold.

She focused on her lower abdomen, where the dantian was said to be. Channeling the energy there, she maintained her focus until, finally, she was able to envision a small golden orb. It was tiny, just as the book had warned beginners it would be.

Unaware of how much time had passed, Wei Hui remained still as energy spiraled around her like a silent whirlwind. Her neatly tied hair was now messy, tousled by the wind that surrounded her body.

Back at the library, the librarian calmly observed Wei Ying, making sure he wasn’t causing another disaster. The raccoon he’d brought earlier had proven chaotic, though Wei Ying had insisted it was homeless and needed a place to stay. He had even hugged the raccoon tightly—so tightly it started to choke. Fortunately, it didn’t bite him.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, the librarian hummed thoughtfully, her mind drifting to the little boy’s sister, who had left that morning after running errands for the vendors.

Wei Ying played on the floor quietly, but as dusk approached, he asked again:

“Jie?”

“Not back yet.”

“Where she?”

“I don’t know.”

Wei Ying pouted. His round, chubby face turned sad, eyes going red and glassy. Was it sadness? Disappointment? Fear? Seeing his distress, the librarian, Ning Lei, stood up and gently picked him up.

“Is Jie gone too?” he asked, his voice cracking.

Ning Lei froze. She knew the two kids had lost their parents and had been living on the streets, but she hadn’t expected the lively boy to crumble like this over his sister’s absence.

“Jie… not want Yingying anymore?” he sniffled.

“No, your sister…” She hesitated. She truly didn’t know where Wei Hui had gone, but she had a hunch. Based on the books the girl had been studying so diligently, Ning Lei suspected she was attempting to cultivate alone, without a teacher. If she succeeded, it would be incredible. Doing so without a mentor was almost unheard of. And if she managed it, then Wei Hui was even wiser and more determined than Ning Lei had believed.

“She’ll come back,” she said gently. “Don’t worry. Your sister is just doing something important. But she won’t leave you. Do you think she would?”

Wei Ying shook his head, his lips trembling.

Ning Lei considered taking him home for the night, but she knew if Wei Hui returned and found her brother gone, she’d be distressed. So, for the following days, Ning Lei asked her daughter to stay at the library with her to help keep Wei Ying distracted. Her husband also occasionally came by to bring them food.

One evening, as her husband was preparing to leave, she called out to him.

“A-Heng.”

Her husband turned. He looked slightly older than her—his clothes were worn, his hands rough and calloused, hair messily tied, eyes wrinkling with every smile.

“A-Lei?”

“Can you bring a sword next time? Nothing too big, but something a ten-year-old could hold. It needs to be able to hold spiritual energy.”

Her husband looked surprised. “What for?”

“Wei Hui,” she said simply. “I don’t know for sure, but I suspect she’s been cultivating using the books. I think she went off to meditate. If she succeeds in forming a core, she’ll need a weapon to start martial training.”

He stared at her for a long moment, then smiled gently. He hadn’t expected his wife to grow so attached to the two street children. Wei Hui had always insisted they didn’t want to burden anyone, and it was true—life was hard enough. They couldn’t afford to take the children in fully, no matter how much they wanted to.

But the kids had done well on their own. And if anything, they didn’t want to destroy what the siblings had already built for themselves.

“Okay,” he said.

When Wei Hui finally opened her eyes, the first thing she felt was the sharp pang of hunger in her stomach. Her throat was dry, lips cracked. Slowly, she looked around the spring. Her muscles ached as she moved and straightened her stiff limbs.

She exhaled.

The sky glowed softly with morning light. Birds chirped, the air fresh and cool. Then, like a crashing wave, panic struck her. She scrambled down from the small island, grabbed her shoes, lifted her robe, and ran.

When she reached the edge of Yiling, she slowed down. The vendors who saw her looked stunned, then relieved.

“A-Hui?” The steamed bun seller blinked. “Oh, thank goodness! You were gone for days! Where were you?”

She blinked, disoriented. “A-Ying?” was the first thing she said.

Instead of being offended, the old woman smiled kindly. “He’s at the library, I assume. Still with Ning Lei.”

Wei Hui hastily bowed and thanked her before dashing off again.

As she ran through town, other vendors called out to her. She could only offer small bows in return as she raced toward the library. Pushing the heavy door open with her small body was never fun, but she didn’t complain.

Once inside, she looked around. “A-Ying?”

“JIE!”

A smaller body crashed into her. Tiny arms wrapped around her tightly, trembling. She looked down to see his tear-stained face and let out a relieved breath.

“A-Ying…” she whispered, scooping him into her arms. She hugged and kissed his temple, holding him close.

“Where you?!”

“Somewhere… A-Jie had to do something important. But A-Jie’s here now, see? Sorry, A-Ying. Were you scared?”

Wei Ying nodded furiously, still hugging her tightly.

She smiled softly. “Don’t worry. It’s not like A-Niang and A-Die. A-Jie will always come back to A-Ying.”

He didn’t let go, so she carried him over to the librarian, who sat calmly at her desk. Something long and wrapped in a white cloth lay in front of her.

“Madam Librarian…” Wei Hui said quietly.

She bowed, still holding Wei Ying.

The librarian finally looked up and hummed. “I see that you’re well.”

“Yes.”

“Next time, don’t disappear without telling anyone.”

“…Yes.”

“Is that all you’re going to say?”

“I… I tried meditating, like in the books…” The librarian raised an eyebrow. “I… I think I succeeded?”

“In what?”

“F-forming a golden core.”

“Then why are you stuttering?”

Wei Hui looked down. Wei Ying looked up at her and, seeing her worried expression, patted her back with his small hand. Wei Hui smiled.

Then the librarian said, “Put your brother down and sit in front of me.”

Wei Hui blinked but nodded. It took some coaxing, but eventually, Wei Ying let go—though he stayed close beside her.

Wei Hui sat straight, placing a hand lightly over her lower abdomen where the orb of warmth pulsed. The librarian pushed the cloth-covered object toward her.

“Open it.” She said.

Confused, Wei Hui gently unwrapped the cloth. She gasped.

Inside was a sword—long and slender, sheathed in gray, with unfamiliar engravings carved into the sheath. It was heavier than expected, but not too heavy to lift. It was beautiful.

“Madam Librarian, this…”

“You’ll need it to practice,” The woman replied. “It’s temporary—until you can acquire a proper cultivation sword. Handle it carefully, especially around your brother.”

A wide smile broke across Wei Hui’s face. For a moment, she looked like a child again, and secretly, the librarian felt relief. Wei Hui was a girl forced to grow up too quickly. Seeing her smile without restraint was rare and precious.

“Thank you! I’ll take care of it, I promise!” She said, standing to bow.

The librarian waved her hand dismissively. “Now go. You haven’t eaten, have you?”

Wei Hui smiled and turned to her brother. “Are you hungry, A-Ying?”

Wei Ying, never one to turn down food, eagerly nodded. The two siblings left the library hand-in-hand, running a few errands before stopping to eat. It was a pleasant morning, though Wei Hui could feel the exhaustion catching up to her.

Tonight, she promised herself, she would sleep well after tucking her brother on bed.

Chapter Text

The following days passed in a blur. Wei Hui slipped into a new routine, one she and her little brother had gradually grown accustomed to. As usual, she woke at Mao Shi, heading out early to buy breakfast for both herself and Wei Ying.

She used to leave her brother at their abandoned house, but lately, she had started dropping him off at the library before running errands for the vendors. At Wu Shi, she’d return to the library to eat lunch with Wei Ying before heading out to train in the same secluded spot where she had first meditated.

Practicing martial arts without a mentor was difficult. She had to constantly assess herself. Was her stance correct? Was her grip on the sword proper?  

Over time, Wei Hui learned to envision herself as if from above, like a hawk watching her form on the small island in the river. She trained her mind to detach, separating awareness from her body, until it felt as though her spirit hovered above the clearing where she practiced.

She imagined herself from high above, like a hawk gliding silently across the sky. In her mind, she saw her figure, small and focused, like the lone island that broke the current’s rhythm—a still center in the chaos of flowing water.

Through this mental perspective, she watched her movements from every angle. She examined the angle of her elbow, the tilt of her wrist, and the curve of her spine as she shifted her footing. If her stance wavered, she could see it immediately, a slouched shoulder, a too-wide step, a grip too tight on the hilt. If her foot dragged through the grass instead of gliding above, she would notice it.

It took time to perfect this internal vision. At first, the image was hazy, distorted, her self-image breaking like a reflection on rippling water. But each day, it sharpened. Bit by bit, her mental clarity grew. She memorized the alignment of her joints, the length of her stride, the echo of her breath. She learned to compare her imagined form to the illustrations in the sword manuals in he books, adjusting her posture until the silhouette in her mind matched the figures etched in ink.

Sometimes, she would close her eyes mid-swing, trusting only in her body’s memory and the internal vision she had mastered. When she opened her eyes, she’d often find her blade exactly where she’d pictured it. Angled just right, humming slightly with the force of her energy.

She didn’t realize it, but this instinct, to observe herself with such precision, was an echo of cultivation in its purest form. Not just physical training, but inner alignment. Heart, body, and spirit moving in unison.

The library held many martial arts manuals and sword techniques, though most were disorganized and fragmented. She suspected they were left behind by a rogue cultivator, maybe hoping someone would benefit from them. She didn’t question it much, it's because she only had one goal.

To grow stronger.

Sometimes she would spend the day only meditating, on other days she would do both. She often got so absorbed in training and meditating that she didn’t notice day turning into night and night turning into day. Fortunately, Wei Ying no longer panicked when she came back late. He would wait patiently and trustingly. That trust was one of the reasons Wei Hui remained cautious about where she went. She couldn’t afford to be reckless. She couldn't afford to leave her brother behind.

She huffed, slowly swinging the sword as she focused on her movement, mentally visualizing her entire posture. Twisting her wrist, she spun her body and thrust the blade forward, slicing through a leaf that floated down from a tree.

She blinked, then took a deep breath. Setting the sword down, Wei Hui sat cross-legged. Closing her eyes, she calmed her mind and relaxed her muscles—meditating after training helped her body recover faster. It was a welcome routine, letting her resume training without fatigue.

Perhaps she was overworking her small body, but she found herself not caring about it. 

Rising again, she skipped the sword and practiced hand-to-hand combat instead, focusing on agility and balance. She experimented with unconventional techniques—some would call it childish, but she was eager to master anything that would help her grow.

Sometimes, she swam in the river or meditated beneath the waterfall. That was the hardest. Her light frame made it easy for the current to knock her over. Still, she pushed on. Once a day, at least, she’d attempt it. Other days, she practiced running in the water or jumping through trees. She once fell and injured herself, earning her a full hour-long scolding from the librarian.

She enjoyed testing her limits. And slowly, it paid off.

Time passed quickly, almost unnoticed. Wei Hui found herself nearly finished with the books in the library. Meanwhile, she watched Wei Ying grow louder, more mischievous, and even more clever than before.

He had a knack for pestering her when he wanted something. One day, he ran up to her, eyes wide.

"Jie!" Wei Hui shut her eyes, bracing herself.

"A-Ying, stop shouting." She sighed.

Wei Ying grinned, plopping down in front of her. "Are you going to leave again?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Why?"

She knew that tone. The last time he’d asked, he nearly burned something down. Another time, he picked a fight with a visiting child whose parents happened to be well-off and arrogant.

That child had been a bully, and Wei Ying hadn’t held back. When the boy’s parents attempted to hurt him, things had escalated.

Wei Hui almost went wild.

"You filthy brat! How dare you touch our son?!" The woman screeched.

Vendors froze in unease. They all knew Wei Hui, quiet, restrained, but fiercely protective of her brother.

Wei Ying stood with his hands on his hips. “Aiya! He started it! Can’t you see for yourself? Surely you’re not blind!”

The woman, enraged, raised her hand and slapped him. Wei Ying, still a child and small he is, fell to the ground.

An elderly vendor rushed to help him, but Wei Hui, who had just returned from her meditation, had already slipped into the commotion. Her heart was pounding after seeing her brother fall in the impact.

She moved without hesitation.

"Who do you think you are?!" The woman spat as Wei Hui stepped between them.

Though small in stature, the golden core glowing in her dantian said otherwise.

Her gaze was sharp and fiery. Her voice, cold as steel. “Do you think you rule the world, that you have the right to strike down every child who dares to challenge yours?”

“W-What? You should teach that little brother of yours some proper manners!” The woman snapped, jabbing a finger in Wei Ying’s direction.

Wei Hui remained unfazed. “Do you feed my brother? Do you clothe him? Do you earn the right to lay a hand on him?”

“Your brother is a bully!” the woman shrieked, her finger trembling with fury.

Wei Hui took a step forward, her presence suddenly towering.

“And what are you, then? A god?”

The woman recoiled. “What nonsense are you—”

But Wei Hui cut her off, voice like a blade. “Because from where I stand, all I see is a coward with a loud mouth and a fragile ego.”

She hadn’t liked them from the moment she first laid eyes on them. They carried themselves with an air of superiority, arrogant, entitled. To her, they were nothing more than a family of bullies, looking down on others and mistreating anyone they deemed beneath them.

When in fact. They are all just equally human.

The woman's husband stepped forward, but Wei Hui reacted first. She struck his hand with the sheathed sword, twisted her body, using a burst of spiritual energy to knock him down.

"Leave. You don’t own Yiling. And you certainly don’t own us." She scanned them both with contempt. "You bring nothing but trouble and entitlement."

When the man reached for her again, she unsheathed her sword, pointing it at him. The sharp tip gleamed under the sun.

"You’re dangerous!" The woman cried, pulling her husband and son away.

Wei Hui smirked. "That’s not even a fraction of it. But I’ll be kind. For your sake. We wouldn’t want you dying of fright in the streets."

With that, the family left in a huff, muttering curses under their breath.

She sheathed her sword and turned back to Wei Ying, her hard expression slowly softening. She quickly knelt beside him and examined his face.

"I told you not to get in trouble." She sighed, realizing how much composure she had lost.

Wei Ying just beamed. "Jie, you’re so cool!"

She stared at him, deadpan. 

"You're hopeless."

Wei Ying slammed his small fist onto the table in front of her. Startled, Wei Hui blinked herself out of her thoughts and looked at her little brother.

“What?”

“Teach me!”

She raised a brow—a habit she had grown used to. “Teach you what?”

“Books! The one you studied!”

Setting down the book she’d been holding, Wei Hui straightened her posture and studied his expression. His brows were furrowed in concentration, his lips pouting, and his chubby cheeks were red, probably from yet another vendor playing with them.

“You want to learn?” she asked slowly.

Wei Ying nodded eagerly.

She knew her brother was clever in his chaotic way. Between the two of them, she was the one with a level head, always thinking before acting. A-Ying, on the other hand, was impulsive. If he thought something was urgent, he would jump straight into it without a second thought.

Still, Wei Ying had shown sparks of natural talent, and she couldn’t help but feel proud. Truly, they were their parents’ children.

“Alright,” she said, taking a deep breath. “Which one do you want to learn?”

“Ta...” Wei Ying paused, thinking hard. “Losman?”

She chuckled. “Talisman, it is.”

Reaching over, she pinched his nose gently. “But fix your handwriting first.”

She pulled out a clean sheet of paper. “If you want to learn talismans, you need neat, precise strokes. One wrong line and the talisman might explode in your face, A-Ying.”

The boy groaned but complied. He dipped the brush into the ink, set the paper in front of him, and began writing. Carefully, he drew each stroke, his brows furrowed in concentration. His sister watched closely, correcting him when necessary.

Writing was boring, Wei Ying thought. But he wanted to learn it. He had—not on purpose—read the book she’d left open the other day. It looked cool. He wanted to do what she did. Even that thing with her sword!

Still, for now, he furiously focused on forming each character until he heard his sister giggle.

Looking up, he found her covering her mouth, eyes crinkled with laughter.

“Jie!” He pouted.

“Okay, okay, sorry!” she said between chuckles. “I just remembered, talismans usually need spiritual energy to activate.” Scooting closer, she placed her palm on his lower abdomen.

“You need to form a core here first. Harness energy and build strength. Even if it’s not powerful at first, it’ll be enough to use basic talismans.”

He looked up at her curiously, soaking in every word.

“But you’re still young, A-Ying. Let’s start by building your knowledge and understanding. Then we’ll train your body. Once you're ready, I’ll teach you how to meditate and form your core. How does that sound?”

He nodded slowly.

As he looked up at her smiling face, something stirred in his chest. A feeling he couldn’t name yet, but it made him want to protect his Jie, just like she always protected him. Once he grows strong, he'll make sure to be the one to protect his Jie!

Since then, Wei Ying soaked himself in every bit of knowledge the library could offer. His Jie was often by his side, offering assistance and guidance, which he gladly accepted. She still urged him to practice his calligraphy, which he did, albeit with a heavy heart. He often claimed to have a love-hate relationship with it.

Glancing up at his Jie reading a book, he smiled secretly before lazily dragging the brush across the paper. He continued for a while until his strokes slowly turned into doodles—circles and odd shapes filling the sheet. He sighed.

If I pray for a golden core, will Heaven give it to me?

He pouted at his silly thought.

"A-Ying!" He jolted upright, startled, his eyes wide as he looked up at his Jie. Her brows furrowed as she eyed the mess of doodles on his paper. With a sigh, she gave him a deadpan stare.

Wei Ying grinned sheepishly.

Wei Hui stared at him, dead silent. How did this kid learn to weaponize cuteness? She wondered, nearly burying her face in her palm.

"You're wasting paper."

"Yingying is being creative!" he defended.

"When did broken characters and random doodles become creative?" she huffed. "That’s just your lazy little butt trying to sneak out of proper practice." She pinched his cheek and pulled out a fresh sheet of paper.

"Jieeeee..." Wei Ying groaned dramatically and slumped against the table. "Writing is boring!"

Hui ignored him and began clearing the doodled pages, replacing them with clean ones.

"Sit up, A-Ying."

He groaned louder.

"You can draw properly here, A-Ying. Just stop wasting paper with random lines. If you want to draw, draw. But do it right."

"It’s the same!"

"It’s not."

"You told me that paper is meant to be used!"

"Used, not wasted."

"It’s the same!"

"It’s not."

They both fell silent, glaring at each other—silver eyes locked in a sibling standoff. Wei Ying looked stubborn, his small face scrunched up in fierce determination. Wei Hui, on the other hand, watched him with calm precision, assessing, waiting—just in case he pulled something unexpected.

Then she smirked. “Draw or practice your calligraphy. If not, read. And if you can’t do any of that, get out of the library and go play outside. Don’t disturb my inner peace.”

Wei Ying huffed. His Jie could be sweet and protective, but sometimes—just sometimes—she was petty and really rude.

He stomped out of the library, grumbling. A vendor nearby chuckled, pinching his cheek and popping a warm dumpling into his mouth.

“Hi, A-Ying.”

He looked up at the vendor with a full pout.

“What a long face! What happened?”

“Jie! She’s rude!” he huffed, folding his arms. The vendor laughed at his expression.

Just then, something caught his eye.

A rabbit.

Sneaking away from the adults, Wei Ying followed it silently, crouching low. The rabbit hopped. Wei Ying jumped after it and promptly fell into a wide hole.

The walls of the hole scraped at his arms and legs as he tumbled down, landing hard on the dirt floor below. A dull pain radiated from his elbows where he had tried to brace himself. Dust billowed around him, stinging his eyes and catching in his throat. It wasn't dark, but the hole was too high for him to climb up. Wei Ying blinked rapidly, disoriented, his breath short and quick.

Then, a sound came—sharp, sudden, and bone-deep.

A dog barked.

The noise echoed down into the hole like a growl from some great beast. To Wei Ying, it wasn’t just a bark. It was a threat. It was a memory of snarling teeth, of being chased or cornered, of something large and unpredictable. Wei Ying froze for half a heartbeat, then panic surged through him like a wave. He began to cry, real fear rising fast, his small voice breaking:

“Jie! Jieee! A-Jie!!"

His cries weren’t just for attention—they were a plea for safety, for the one person who had always shielded him from pain, from hunger, from everything the world could throw at them. He imagined the dog up there, circling the edge, ready to leap in and bite, or worse, trap him down here forever.

His hands clawed against the dirt wall in a futile attempt to climb, but the earth crumbled under his fingers. The world felt too big, too loud, and far too far from the warmth and calm of the library. The soft scratch of a brush, the scent of old paper, the gentle scolding of his Jie—he wanted all of it back.

His silver eyes shimmered with tears.

Back in the library, Wei Hui glanced at the door where her brother had exited. She’d felt at ease knowing he was safe outside. But suddenly, a strange unease gripped her chest. She stood up, her instincts kicking in, and walked out to search for him.

From her view of the town square, she spotted him. Just in time to see him chasing a rabbit.

Her heart dropped. Her eyes widened. 

It happened in a blink. The blood drained from her face as she watched her brother fall into the hole.

“A-Ying!” She cried out, panic tightening her voice.

Then—a bark. A dog’s bark.

She froze. That sound—Wei Ying hated dogs.

Without hesitation, Wei Hui lunged forward, dropping to her knees at the edge of the hole. It was deep. Too deep. If she jumped in, they’d both be stuck. If she tried to pull him out herself, they could both fall.

Wei Hui looked around frantically, her chest tightening with every sharp cry her little brother let out. Relief washed over her when a passerby, having witnessed what happened, rushed over without hesitation and carefully lifted Wei Ying out of the hole.

The moment he was safe, Wei Hui pulled her brother into her arms, holding him tightly. She murmured thanks to the man again and again, her voice trembling.

The man had a gruff, rough-edged face—he looked aggressive at first glance. But Hui quickly realized she had judged him too soon. Beneath that fierce exterior was a kind heart. He seemed just a little older than her, perhaps only by a few years.

“Th-thank you, Sir…” She said breathlessly.

The man grunted. “Next time, don’t leave your brother alone,” He said, voice gruff, then turned and began to walk away.

As he left, another man gave him a respectful bow and called out, “Young Master Nie.”

She etched the name into her memory.

Turning back to her brother, she gently checked him over. “A-Ying? It’s okay now. There’s no dog. Look around.”

He blinked and looked up at her, sniffling. She gave him a reassuring smile and hugged him again, planting a kiss on his temple.

Once he’d calmed down, a nearby vendor handed him a cup of water. Wei Hui bowed in gratitude, then turned to her brother again.

“A-Ying,” she asked gently, “why did you jump like that?”

“The rabbit looked lonely,” he mumbled, lips jutting out in a pout. “He was gonna fall, so I jumped and threw him up.”

Wei Hui let out a tired sigh.

Why does she have the feeling that her brother’s going to be the type who always sacrifices himself for others?

She thought of how differently they approached the world—she strategized, calculated, and planned.

He would jump in headfirst with nothing but instinct and heart.

She then made a silent vow to teach her brother not just how to care for others, but how to care for himself.

Chapter Text

After that incident, Wei Hui never let her brother out of her sight again. She couldn’t help but blame herself—if she hadn’t told him to leave, it wouldn’t have happened.

But blaming herself wouldn’t change anything, right?

That’s why these past few days, Wei Hui has always made sure to keep a close eye on her brother. Even though the younger was back to playing and causing mischief, she couldn’t stop worrying. What if something like that happened again?

She sighed and glanced at A-Ying, who was happily jumping as they made their way outside Yiling. Wei Ying looked as vibrant as ever—his smile wide, silver eyes twinkling, and each step light with a little hop.

When she told him he could come with her to her training, he immediately gathered his toys after being told not to disturb his Jie while she was busy. She had also packed some food, just in case they needed to stay out for a few days.

Still, the money she earned was barely enough for the two of them. When bad weather struck, there were times they went hungry—but at least, only then. The only weather she hated was winter; it was always the worst. Wei Ying was especially sensitive to the cold, often confined to bed and shivering. She had to cover him with anything she could find, just to stop the trembling.

“Jie! What are we going to do there?” Wei Ying asked, his silver eyes wide with curiosity as he tugged at her hand.

She smiled and gently swayed their joined hands as they walked.

“Training,” she replied softly. “Maybe you’ll train too. Want that?”

The youger hummed thoughtfully, then nodded with a bright grin. He had been pestering his sister for days, asking her to teach him things—anything. Just being included made his excitement bubble over.

The two siblings walked side by side along the wide, sunlit pathway—free and happy in each other’s presence. Wei Hui kept a steady but gentle pace, occasionally glancing at her younger brother as he skipped ahead, humming to himself. The trees lining the road swayed with the wind, their leaves rustling like whispers of joy. The breeze was cool and kind, wrapping around them like an invisible embrace, brushing through their hair and clothing with playful touches.

The morning sky stretched endlessly above them, clear, brilliant blue, with golden sunlight spilling through the gaps between the leaves, casting dappled patterns on the path. Birds chirped from the branches, their songs light and cheerful, as if the whole world had woken up in peace.

It was a simple moment, but it made her smile. A rare kind of stillness settled in her chest, the kind that said—for now—they were safe.

When they reached the spring, A-Ying didn’t waste a moment—he dashed around joyfully, soaking in the beauty of nature with every bound and laugh.

“A-Ying! Your outer robe and shoes!” Wei Hui called out sternly just as he was about to leap into the water.

He pouted but obeyed, slipping off his shoes and robe before happily jumping into the spring with a splash. She let out a sigh—half exasperation, half fondness—then made her way to her usual spot and began her training.

Wei Ying, who had been trying to catch fish with his bare hands, paused. His attention slowly drifted to his Jie, eyes filled with curiosity. Quietly, he stepped closer—just enough to watch, not enough to interrupt. He didn’t say a word. He had promised to behave, and he just wanted to see what she was doing.

Wei Hui stood at the edge of the small island, her feet firmly planted on the smooth, sun-warmed stones. The air around her stilled, as if nature itself was holding its breath. She closed her eyes briefly, centering herself, then drew her sword with fluid grace.

In one swift motion, she leapt into the air, light and precise—her robes fluttering behind her like trailing silk. As she landed, she swung the blade in a clean arc, slicing through the air with a sharp whoosh. She pivoted on her heel, body twisting with practiced control, then moved into another sequence—strike, block, turn, retreat, advance. Each movement was disciplined, deliberate, almost like a dance of power and focus.

On the other end of the small island, Wei Ying watched in wide-eyed wonder. His arms hung limply at his sides, a forgotten splash of water dripping from his fingers. His Jie looked so strong, so elegant—like a warrior from one of the stories she used to tell him at night.

He took a cautious step forward, then another, stopping just close enough to see her clearly but far enough to stay out of her way. His silver eyes sparkled with admiration, his mouth slightly open as if afraid even breathing too loudly might break the moment.

He didn’t call out. He didn’t move again. He just watched, watching the person he admired most in the world become someone even more incredible right before his eyes.

The feeling of wanting to be like his Jie became stronger.

When Hui stopped her movements, Wei Ying clapped his hands and immediately descended from the water, jumping toward her.

"Jie! That’s cool!"

Hui laughed.

"I want to learn that too!"

Hui lowered herself to his height. "You should form your core first." She patted his head. "I'll teach you how to meditate. You read the book, right?" A-Ying eagerly nodded.

"Okay, sit down and cross your legs."

A-Ying took a slow step, fell in front of his sister, and sat down. Crossing his legs, he placed both palms on his knees. Once in position, he looked up at her, waiting. Wei Hui knelt, straightened his back, and fixed his posture.

"There. Close your eyes, A-Ying. Breath. Inhale and exhale," she instructed.

She watched as her brother complied, his small chest rising and falling with each breath, quick and uneven from all the running and excitement. Damp strands of hair clung to his forehead, and his cheeks were flushed a warm pink from exertion. There was a flicker of mischief still lingering in his eyes, but for now, he listened—obedient and eager. Something about the sight made her chest ache—not with worry this time, but with quiet affection. He was growing, little by little, learning to listen, to respect her words, even if play still danced at the edge of his every step.

But oh, she underestimated her brother.

It was an achievement that he stayed still for at least fifteen minutes before he started wiggling in place. He was growing restless, not used to staying still. Wei Hui watched as her brother shifted again.

"A-Ying, focus. Don't move. Still your mind."

"But Jie, I can hear a frog."

She deadpanned.

"Don't mind it."

There was dead silence.

Then, he moved again.

"Jie, why is this taking so long?"

She facepalmed.

"This won’t do."

A-Ying opened his eyes and pouted. His small face was wet, and a strand of hair clung to his cheek. He blinked up at her, letting out a soft complaint.

"It’s hard, Jie!" A-Ying groaned.

"It’s not. You're just like a worm sprinkled with salt—can’t sit still." She stared at her brother for a long moment before telling him to stand. "Why don’t you exercise first?" she offered with an encouraging smile.

Wei Ying happily accepted the offer.

Wei Hui helped her little brother exercise, checking his flexibility first and making him do warmups. She even went into the forest to get a small stick so A-Ying could use it as a sword, since she couldn’t carelessly hand her own to him.

She taught him how to hold it and fixed his posture, even showing him how to swing. Surprisingly, Wei Ying had good stamina. She wasn’t sure if he ever ran out of energy—he always seemed fully charged. Still, it was amusing.

The two Wei siblings stayed in the forest for two days before making their way back to Yiling. On the journey home, A-Ying began yawning, his small body swaying with each sleepy step until eventually, Wei Hui crouched down and let him climb onto her back. He wrapped his arms loosely around her neck, mumbling something incoherent before drifting off, his soft breaths warm against her shoulder. She adjusted her grip, careful not to jostle him, and continued the walk in steady silence.

As they neared the abandoned house they called home, she felt his fingers twitch slightly. Gently, she tilted her head to the side and murmured, “A-Ying… we’re almost there,” her voice low and tender, coaxing him from sleep without startling him.

A-Ying slowly opened his eyes, rubbing them before crawling down from her back. He stood still for a few seconds, blinking slowly as if the world was still settling into place, before finally opening his eyes fully. Wei Hui chuckled at the sight, her voice light with amusement. Now awake and energized, Wei Ying suddenly broke into a sprint toward the abandoned house, his laughter echoing as he ran—only to tumble backward a moment later after bumping into someone.

“A-Ying!” Wei Hui rushed forward, dropping to her knees to check on him. She helped him up, her hands brushing over his arms and face to make sure he wasn’t hurt, before her gaze lifted to the person he had run into.

A tall man stood there, smiling down at them. He wore a flowing purple robe, the fabric embroidered with lotus patterns near the hem. His posture was relaxed, almost friendly, yet something about his presence made Wei Hui instinctively wary. Behind him stood two others, also dressed in purple, each bearing a quiet, composed expression.

“I’m sorry, Sir.” She said quietly, her gaze dropping to the swords at their sides.

"Are you the children of Wei Changze and Changse Sanren?" The man asked kindly, making her look up again.

The mention of their parents made her chest clench.

Suddenly, she felt vulnerable, like the ground beneath her had shifted. And suddenly, the disappearance of their parents, long buried under forced strength, felt raw and fresh again.

"Who are you?" She asked bravely, stepping in front of her younger brother, shielding him as she faced the stranger. The man was smiling, far too gently for someone she didn’t know. 

It made her feel uneasy.

"I'm Jiang Fengmian, your father's old friend," He replied with a calm, steady voice, offering his hand to her. "I heard your parents’ deaths years ago. Since then, I’ve been searching for the two of you."

"How are you even sure we’re the children of that friend of yours?" She asked warily, her tone sharp with suspicion. She didn’t budge. How could he recognize them when he had never met them before? She was sure of it.

"Aren’t you Wei Hui and Wei Ying?" The man in the purple robes asked gently, crouching down to meet her eyes. His voice was soft, deliberate. "I can offer you shelter, a home, food, and a family. You’ll be safe there."

She hesitated.

The cold, cracked streets of Yiling returned to her mind like a shadow. Nights when hunger gnawed at their stomachs, days when she had failed to earn a single coin.

Then came the image of her little brother, Wei Ying.

She turned slightly, glancing behind her. He was half-hidden behind her robes, tiny hands gripping the edge of her tattered outer garment. His wide eyes looked up at her—innocent, curious, and trusting. Her heart clenched.

She then remembered the people in Yiling. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw them watching—secretly, quietly. Their worry was visible in the way their brows furrowed, the way their hands paused mid-task.

They were fine here, alone. Most of the time, they got to eat. The people were kind, truly kind.

But how long, exactly, would everything stay this way?

She bit the inside of her cheek, pondering, thinking. Then she drew a deep breath, as if trying to gather strength from the air itself. Slowly, she turned to face the man once more.

Her fingers hovered uncertainly over his outstretched hand—then, with great hesitation, she took it. At the same time, she gently reached behind to grasp her brother’s hand as well, bringing him closer to her side.

"Okay," She said softly, her voice laced with quiet resolve. "We’ll come with you."

Maybe they could try.

Maybeit wouldn't be so hard to accept help, just this once.

The man looked wealthy enough to take care of the two of them. At the same time, her eyes lingered on the swords at their sides. They looked like cultivators. Maybe… maybe they could learn under them.

The man smiled.

"Do you have some things to collect before we depart?" he asked.

Wei Hui blinked. "Are we leaving now?"

He nodded. "Do you want to stay a little longer?"

"We… we just want to say goodbye to the others, if that's okay..." She said carefully.

The man paused to think, then slowly nodded. "Alright. We'll be staying at an inn."

He turned to Wei Ying and smiled warmly. "I have a daughter and a son. I'm sure the two of you will get along with them."

He gave them time to return to the abandoned house and gather what little they had. A few folded robes, a pair of worn shoes, the toys A-Ying insisted on bringing—she packed them neatly into an old cloth bundle.

When they arrived at the inn, one of the attendants mentioned preparing separate rooms for them. Wei Hui immediately refused.

"I want to stay with my brother." She said firmly, standing protectively in front of him. Her tone left no room for argument.

Thankfully, they didn’t press the issue. The man only nodded, understanding.

"You two can stay here." The smiling man said after guiding them upstairs, gesturing to a modest but clean room. "There’s a bath ready for both of you and a new set of robes. Feel free to use them."

Wei Hui nodded and bowed politely. "Thank you..."

"Uncle Jiang. Call me Uncle." The man said gently.

"Uncle Jiang." She repeated.

He smiled again before quietly stepping out, leaving the siblings alone.

A-Ying looked around and gasped at the sight of the bed. Before he could jump in, Hui quickly grabbed the back of his robe. The younger cried out in protest, turning to his sister with wide, pleading eyes.

"A-Ying. Take a bath first."

Half-heartedly, he complied and went to bathe.

The two siblings settled inside the inn. Around You Shi, an attendant arrived with food. They accepted it gratefully and thanked the woman before she left. Freshly bathed and dressed in clean robes, the two sat at the table.

She quietly ignored her little brother as he poured another generous serving of chili oil over his food, as usual. She nearly laughed at the happy sounds he made while eating.

The chili oil jar had been a gift from a vendor. After discovering how much he loved spicy food, the vendor immediately handed him a jar with a fond smile.

The next morning, the siblings roamed through the town, bidding farewell and giving thanks to the vendors. The townspeople smiled warmly at them, offering small gifts that the two could keep. Many expressed how happy they were for the siblings’ good fortune.

Later, Wei Hui gently pushed open the large wooden door of the library. She didn’t need to search for the librarian—she was always in her usual spot. Her little brother followed closely behind.

"Madam Librarian..." Wei Hui called softly.

The woman looked up.

Wei Hui stepped forward, stretching out her arms before slowly bowing. Wei Ying copied her gesture, bowing beside her.

"This one thanks you for everything you’ve done for us. We’ll be leaving Yiling. I don’t know where we’re going, but I think we’ll be fine. I’ll make sure to take care of both myself and my brother."

The librarian’s gaze softened.

"Then I wish you well, A-Hui and A-Ying. You may visit here whenever you see fit."

The two siblings straightened. With quiet smiles, they both hummed in agreement.

The next day, they left Yiling and made their way to the place Uncle Jiang called Lotus Pier.

Chapter Text

It didn’t take long before they arrived at Yunmeng.

Wei Ying was securely held in Jiang Fengmian’s arms, his small hands gripping the man’s robes, eyes wide with awe at the world rushing past them. Wei Hui, on the other hand, was carried by a female cultivator who flew beside them. It was the first time either sibling had flown on a sword, and both were caught between amazement and cautious silence.

It was the first time either A-Hui or A-Ying had traveled like this. Although Wei Hui now had a golden core and even a sword of her own—small and perfectly suited for her current stage—she had never attempted to ride a sword. She knew it wasn’t enough. Not yet.

The woman holding her introduced herself as Jiang Lin, a distant cousin of Jiang Fengmian. She wore a soft, welcoming smile as she held the girl securely. Her arms were firm but gentle, making sure the child didn’t slip or feel afraid.

Jiang Lin had noticed the sword at her side, but when she first lifted Wei Hui, there had been a subtle pause—her eyes lingering in surprise. There was something about the girl that caught her off guard. Jiang Fengmian, too, though more reserved, had hesitated ever so slightly the first time Wei Hui stood close to him. She could tell. It was confusion—no, curiosity.

After all, how could a little girl who had lived on the streets—who should’ve been malnourished and spiritually stunted—possess a golden core? And not just any golden core. One that was properly formed, stable, and already pulsating with early potential.

It stunned her.

Jiang Lin glanced down again, studying the child in her arms. She couldn’t hold back her question anymore.

“Wei-gūniang?” she said gently.

Wei Hui tilted her head, silver eyes meeting Jiang Lin’s warm brown gaze. For a moment, the woman saw her reflection clearly in those glassy irises. The child blinked at her, clearly wondering why she was being stared at.

“I hope you don’t mind me asking,” Jiang Lin began again, turning her gaze toward the clouds in front of them, “but… You have a golden core. How?”

Wei Hui blinked again. Then, after a pause, she opened her mouth and answered simply.

“Books.”

Jiang Lin faltered slightly in the air. “Books?”

The Jiang cultivators near them, including Jiang Fengmian himself, subtly shifted their focus. Her answer caught everyone’s attention.

“Hm!” Wei Hui nodded firmly. “There’s a library in Yiling. They have a lot of cultivation books. I read them! A-Niang and A-Die taught me how to read and write, so I was able to understand the instructions. Then… I just followed what the books said!”

She beamed, proud of herself.

Jiang Lin exchanged a look with her younger brother, Jiang Luo, who was flying just a little behind. His expression mirrored hers—part disbelief, part intrigue.

“You formed your golden core... just by reading?” Jiang Luo asked, brows raised. 

Wei Hui nodded again. “Un!” Then tilted her head. “Is that not normal?”

The question caught them off guard. Jiang Lin gasped—partly in astonishment, partly in delight. There was something incredibly endearing about how unaware the girl was of her brilliance.

“She’s serious?” Jiang Luo muttered to his sister.

“She’s serious,” Jiang Lin murmured back, grinning as if she’d just found a treasure.

“I-I mean…” Jiang Lin shook her head, unsure whether to laugh or keep questioning.

“Enough questions, Dìdì,” she finally said, waving her hand at her brother. “We’ll ask again when we’re on the ground.”

Jiang Luo sighed, muttering something about how outrageous this trip was turning out to be.

Meanwhile, Jiang Fengmian remained quiet, his gaze steady on the path ahead. But in his arms, Wei Ying had begun to doze off, lulled by the wind and the warmth of the man holding him.

Fengmian allowed himself a quiet breath, thoughts drifting.

So this is Wei Changze and Changse Sanren’s daughter. A little girl who nurtured her golden core through nothing but books. He almost chuckled to himself.

He shouldn’t be surprised.

And yet… he was.

Wei Hui didn’t dwell too much on their reactions. Instead, she kept her focus on their surroundings. As grateful as she was for their help, a part of her remained cautious. What if these people were actually kidnappers? It was a wild thought—but not an impossible one. So, just to be safe, she quietly tried to memorize the path they took.

Thankfully, they weren’t flying too high. The ground remained visible beneath her, allowing her to take note of landmarks. She didn’t know the names of the places they passed, but the route was clear—wide stretches of road surrounded by forest and patches of open land. The cultivators were moving at a calm, steady pace, likely being considerate of the children in their care and avoiding alarming them with unnecessary speed.

After some time, a new sight came into view: a town nestled near the horizon. From above, the other end of the town looked almost like it was only water.

No—it was only water, but she could see a faint place there.

Water stretched around it in every direction, forming natural borders like arms gently cradling that place. As they began to descend, Hui noticed a large wooden dock lined with boats of varying sizes. The air was filled with the soft sound of water lapping against the piers, and the scent of river mist clung to the breeze.

The woman helped Wei Hui into the boat, steadying her with a gentle hand. Hui remained quiet, watching closely as her brother was carried into the same boat shortly after. A small sense of relief washed over her when she saw they wouldn’t be separated.

Jiang Fengmian offered her a soft smile. “I figured you wouldn’t want to be apart from your brother.”

Wei Hui relaxed slightly at his words and gave a small nod, murmuring a quiet, “Thank you.”

The boat began to drift forward, the water lapping gently against its sides. Gentle ripples fanned out around them, the surface of the lake smooth and quiet. At first, the path was clear, lined with trees along the shore, but soon a soft mist began to gather, curling low over the water like breath in the early morning.

As they moved deeper into the fog, the world seemed to hush. Then, like a curtain lifting, the mist thinned—and Wei Hui gasped softly. Spread out before them was a wide expanse of blooming lotuses, floating in delicate clusters on the water’s surface. Pale pinks, whites, and soft shades of lilac floated peacefully, swaying gently with the movement of the boat.

Beside her, A-Ying’s eyes lit up with wonder. He leaned forward, reaching toward one of the nearest flowers.

“A-Ying, you’ll fall,” Hui said gently, catching the back of his robe before he could tip too far.

The boy pouted, disappointed but obedient. Jiang Lin, who had been quietly watching from across the boat, let out a soft laugh. Without a word, she reached down, deftly plucked a lotus from the water, and held it out to him. Her movements were practiced, graceful, and even.

Wei Hui observed her, studying her movements—the way she shifted her balance, how she cupped the stem. She tucked the details into memory. The next time they passed by lotuses, she would be the one to get one for her brother.

With a warm smile, Jiang Lin held out the lotus to Wei Ying. The boy’s face lit up as he accepted the lotus, cradling it gently in both hands as if it were made of glass. 

“Thank you!” He happily said, beaming.

Wei Hui smiled at the sight. It was a fleeting moment of peace, but one she would hold onto—something soft and beautiful to carry forward.

After a long ride, the boat finally stopped. Once again, the two siblings were helped out of it. Holding her little brother’s hand, she looked around. The Lotus Pier was beautiful—mesmerizing, to be exact.

As she walked, the dock creaked beneath her feet, old wood smoothed by countless footsteps. She let her eyes roam and tried to memorize every structure. She even spotted a large banner with a lotus symbol. Jiang Lin said it was the sect’s emblem. Earlier, while they were still in the boat, Jiang Lin had explained what was in Yunmeng and at Lotus Pier so she wouldn't feel confused and lost.

She was grateful for that.

They followed a stone pathway and eventually stopped in front of a gate. The guard bowed to Jiang Fengmian before opening it, and inside, they were welcomed by a lively scene. The disciples walked and talked in groups, laughing and clearly enjoying themselves. Some would even stop to bow respectfully to Jiang Fengmian.

Seeing that, Wei Hui had come to terms with the fact that Jiang Fengmian is a respected sect leader of a gentry sect. Which means that A-Hui would have the chance to learn more about cultivation, and with Jiang Lin confirming it, the young girl beamed the whole time.

With A-Ying still holding her hand, they continued walking until the bark of a dog pierced the air. Wei Ying immediately shrieked, crying as Wei Hui stepped in front of her little brother.

Seeing this, Jiang Fengmian stepped forward at once. “Jiang Luo, take the dogs away.”

Jiang Luo hesitated. “But Zongzhu, that’s—” He stopped when Wei Ying cried harder at the approaching dogs. Jiang Fengmian picked the child up, and Wei Hui could only watch.

“Take it away,” Jiang Fengmian said firmly. Jiang Luo bowed and obeyed.

“What are you doing?” A small voice protested. “Why are you taking my dogs?” Wei Hui turned to look. A boy in a purple robe was approaching—he looked quite a bit like Jiang Fengmian.

“Young Master Jiang,” Jiang Luo said, “Zongzhu said we should take them away.”

“No! You can’t!” the boy exclaimed, stomping forward toward the dogs.

Jiang Fengmian sighed. “A-Cheng, we need to put the dogs away.”

“But Die! They’re mine! Where are you going to put them?!”

Another child appeared, probably a year or two younger than Wei Hui. She wore a light accent of purple, and her hair was braided along the sides while the rest cascaded gently down her back.

She looked worried and tried to calm the angry boy, but he continued protesting no matter what she said. Seeing their distress, Wei Hui couldn’t stay silent.

“They won’t be taken away,” she said gently.

The boy stopped and looked at her, his brows furrowed. “How can you be sure about that? And who are you?”

The other child immediately looked apologetic. “A-Cheng, don’t be rude.”

“But A-Jie! They’re taking my dogs!”

Ah—they were siblings then.

“They won’t be,” Wei Hui replied, then looked up at Jiang Fengmian. “Right, Uncle Jiang?”

The older man hesitated, visibly conflicted. “But your brother is—”

She smiled and shook her head. “I’ll take care of my brother, Uncle Jiang.”

Then she turned to the two children. “Your dogs might just be moved a little farther away or temporarily contained—but they won’t be taken from you. They’re yours.” She offered them a small, reassuring smile.

Jiang Lin watched silently as Wei Hui faced their sect leader once again. Putting her arm forward, she bowed.

“This one thanks Uncle Jiang for his consideration of my brother’s fright. However, I believe this is the right time for my brother to slowly overcome his fear of dogs—one he developed while we were living on the streets.”

She paused, then continued, “Uncle Jiang does not need to take his son’s dogs away for our sake. However, in the meantime, we would be grateful if they could be kept a little farther from my brother while we work on helping him overcome his fear. I hope Uncle Jiang will consider it.”

Jiang Lin almost clapped in admiration at the girl’s brilliance. She was wise and thoughtful. One could already imagine the feats she would achieve. Even now, forming a golden core just through reading was already an incredible feat, and would likely become a tale whispered across Jianghu if ever it got out.

If Jiang Zongzhu will allow it, she would gladly volunteer to train and teach the little girl herself.

After a long pause, Jiang Fengmian finally nodded. “Alright. Jiang Luo, lock the door and put them in the backyard.”

“You can’t!” Jiang Cheng protested.

Wei Hui felt a twinge of pity for the boy, forced to adjust because of them. She silently vowed to make it up to him.

“A-Cheng, we’re not taking them away,” Jiang Fengmian said gently. “You can always visit them in the backyard.”

Just as Jiang Cheng opened his mouth to argue again, Wei Hui noticed the firm look his father gave him.

The boy went quiet, clearly holding back his words.

And so, the dogs were put away, and the young boy left in a sour mood, his sister following close behind. Before she turned away, the girl gave them a polite smile.

Jiang Lin gently patted Wei Hui’s head. “According to Jiang Zongzhu, you and your brother will be given separate rooms. Young Master Wei will room with Young Master Jiang in the Inner Disciples’ Quarters, while you’ll have your room in the same area. Is that alright?”

Wei Hui paused and thought for a moment before slowly nodding. She and her brother had always been together—hip to hip—and the thought of being apart left her feeling uneasy. But they needed to adapt. It wasn’t as if they’d be completely separated. No matter what, they would always be together. And she would never allow anyone to come between her and her little brother.

Jiang Lin led her into the quarters. The room she was assigned was spacious enough, and she found it more than comfortable. She had no objections and followed every instruction given to her without a word. Once she finally settled in, she looked at Jiang Lin, who stood nearby with a gentle smile.

“Would you mind if I stayed for a little chat?” Jiang Lin asked softly.

Wei Hui blinked, surprised by the offer, but nodded. “I... I wouldn’t mind." She answered carefully.

Jiang Lin took a seat across from her, poured tea into a delicate cup, and gently pushed it toward her. “Here. Drink this—it’ll warm you up.”

She accepted it with both hands. “Thank you…”

“Call me Lin-jie." Rhe woman offered warmly.

That surprised her again.

“Don’t look so startled,” Jiang Lin laughed softly. “You call Jiang-zongzhu ‘Uncle,’ after all.” Wei Hui’s eyes dropped, clearly shy. A faint blush colored her pale cheeks.

Then, mustering a small voice, she looked up and said, “Then... please call me A-Hui. Or Hui-mei, Lin-jie.”

That made Jiang Lin’s smile deepen. There was a short pause, an amused silence, before she let out a chuckle at the endearing awkwardness between them.

“How are you feeling?” She asked gently.

“I’ve been feeling well,” Hui replied with a soft smile.

“I meant… about all of this.” Jiang Lin’s voice was careful, a little more weighted.

It made Wei Hui pause.

What did she feel right now?

Truthfully, it was all happening so fast, but she was glad it did. After a moment of thought, she said, “I’m grateful to Uncle Jiang… for finding us, for taking us in. I’ll be forever thankful to him.”

Jiang Lin’s expression softened. “You know… you’re smart and wise. Especially for your age.” She took a sip from her cup and hummed as she savored the tea’s gentle sweetness.

“Not every child thinks the way you do.”

“I have to,” Wei Hui replied simply.

Her thoughts drifted back to life on the streets—it had been hard, yes, but there were good memories, too. The vendors were kind, always looking out for them. And the librarian, who nearly took them in completely, often let them linger in the library for days.

Jiang Lin quietly observed her. She could tell the girl was remembering something. There was a certain softness to her eyes, a quiet strength. Not just intelligence, but resilience too. Despite everything, she didn’t seem broken. That eased Jiang Lin’s heart.

“I suppose that’s just how life goes." She murmured, setting her cup down and folding her hands on her lap.

Then she smiled and leaned in slightly.

“Say, A-Hui… what would you think about having me as your mentor? Your teacher?” That caught Wei Hui’s full attention—her eyes locked onto hers, wide and curious.

A small grin tugged at her lips.

“You see,” Jiang Lin continued, “every sect has its sword style. And from what I can see, you’re already a cultivator. That means you won’t have a hard time learning the Jiang sect’s style.”

Wei Hui leaned forward, eyes sparkling.

“You’ll still need to study a lot about sect traditions, responsibilities, etiquette, and all. ” Jiang Lin added with a playful tone. “But when it comes to cultivation and swordsmanship, I’ll personally teach and guide you. What do you think?”

This time, Wei Hui’s eyes lit up completely—the first bright, enthusiastic reaction Jiang Lin had seen from her.

“W-will you really?”

“If you want me to.”

“Of course!” the girl burst out. She scrambled to her feet and bowed deeply. “I would be honored to have you teach me, Jiang-Xiansheng!” It was Jiang Lin’s turn to flush with embarrassment. Laughing softly, she waved her hand and gently took the girl’s hands, urging her to sit back down.

“No need for that. Just keep calling me what I told you earlier.”

Wei Hui giggled quietly and nodded. “Okay.”

Later that afternoon, Jiang Lin returned—this time with Wei Ying in tow. The moment she saw her brother, Wei Hui rose from her seat and rushed to embrace him.

“I’ll leave the two of you for now,” Jiang Lin said with a smile. Wei Hui bowed to her and offered a soft thank you before she left.

Wei Ying dashed toward the bed and threw himself onto it with a joyful laugh, rolling around like a puppy.

“Jie! Are we staying here now?” He asked excitedly.

Wei Hui giggled and followed him, sitting in the corner of the bed. “Mn. We’ll be staying here from now on, so you have to be good, okay, A-Ying?”

Grinning, he nodded eagerly. As he continued to tumble around, the sheets grew messy, but she didn’t scold him. Instead, she simply watched with a quiet smile.

“What are we going to do here then?” A-Ying suddenly asked, glancing at her between rolls.

Wei Hui lay down beside him and took her time before answering. “We’re going to learn a lot of things. You’ll also begin learning how to form your core soon, so you must listen to your teachers, alright?”

Knowing how spirited and unruly her little brother could be, she made sure to reinforce it. “We’ll be learning from different teachers, so Jie hopes her Didi will behave and listen to his lessons diligently.” She then reached over and gently pinched his nose, making him giggle.

“I promise!” He shouted, full of energy.

Wei Hui laughed, the sound light and full of fondness.

Over the next few days, Wei Hui grew busy with lessons and training. Though she had enrolled late, it didn’t take long before she was moved into the advanced classes—her skill and understanding evident from the start. The decision came directly from Jiang Fengmian, and Wei Hui couldn’t help but feel pleased.

If she were being honest, she was getting bored.

Learning the Jiang sect’s sword style, however, was far more challenging than she had anticipated. But Wei Hui thrived on the challenge. She took everything to heart—every critique, every instruction, every word of praise. She studied and practiced with a quiet, burning resolve.

“Young Lady Wei?”

The voice pulled her from her focus. She looked up from her notes to find a fellow disciple—likely around her age—standing nearby, fidgeting slightly.

She set her brush down gently and offered a calm smile. “Is there something I can help you with?”

The girl hesitated, clearly nervous. Noticing this, Wei Hui softened her expression further. “Don’t be nervous.”

“A-ah… I just wanted to ask if you… It could help me understand this topic. I didn’t really get it earlier…" She was nervously playing with her fingers, glancing between her scroll and Wei Hui’s face.

“Of course,” Wei Hui said kindly, motioning to the seat beside her. “Please, sit. Tell me which part you’re having trouble with.”

The girl’s eyes lit up as she sat down, pointing quickly at the lesson she couldn’t grasp. One by one, more students began to gather, and Wei Hui welcomed them all with a gentle smile.

The class ended with a light atmosphere.

Chapter Text

Wei Hui had been busy, far too busy to notice that her little brother was keeping secrets from her. Imagine her horror when Jiang Yanli quietly revealed that Wei Ying had slipped out one night and disappeared. Thankfully, Yanli had found him and brought him back safely.

Now, the younger girl sat across from her at the table, composed and graceful. Hui knew that Yanli was a year or two younger than her, yet her serene presence was quietly impressive. She watched as Yanli delicately lifted the teapot and poured it into her cup. Hui accepted it with a small, grateful smile.

“Thank you,” Hui murmured, lifting the cup to her lips. As she sipped, her gaze lingered on the younger girl. Yanli’s demeanor was soft and unassuming, but Hui had long learned that gentleness could cloak quiet strength. It wasn’t the kind born of muscle or swordplay—but of will, of patience.

They had met once before, on the day she and A-Ying first arrived at Lotus Pier. But there hadn’t been any proper introductions. Hui had been too preoccupied with settling in, her classes, and, of course, watching over her brother.

Still, it brought her comfort to know that someone else was also looking out for Wei Ying when she couldn’t.

They were in the Lotus Garden, perhaps the most tranquil corner of the sect. From where they sat, the soft lapping of the lake reached their ears, rhythmic and soothing, like the garden’s heartbeat. They could also hear the delicate rustling of lotus petals brushing against each other each time a fish flops in the water. And the scent of blooming lotuses hung in the air—light, sweet, and fresh—blending with the faint aroma of sun-warmed wood and moist earth.

Wei Hui set her cup down and shook her head gently. Folding her hands in her lap, she met Jiang Yanli’s eyes.

“Please," She said, her tone warm, “If Young Lady Jiang is comfortable, she may call me A-Hui or Hui-Jie. And besides, I have nothing pressing to do. A-Ying is busy with his classes.”

Jiang Yanli tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled. At that moment, Hui noticed just how much Yanli resembled Wei Ying—not in behavior, but in gentleness. Then again, maybe it was the other way around. Silver eyes, long dark hair, pale skin, delicate features. If not for the slight height difference, they could have passed for twins. Wei Ying, she noted with amusement, was starting to catch up to her height.

“Then... Hui-Jie shouldn't address me so formally either,” Jiang Yanli replied with a faint smile.

At that, Wei Hui’s lips curved gently, her eyes warm and accepting. “That settles it, then.” She leaned forward slightly, her tone shifting to one of concern. “Can you tell me what happened when A-Ying ran off?”

Jiang Yanli nodded, her expression thoughtful. “I think A-Cheng got upset about what happened to his dogs. He scared A-Ying, and he ran off. I was on my way to check on A-Cheng when I saw your brother. I thought he was going to you, but when I found out what happened, I went after him. Don’t worry—he’s fine. He and A-Cheng have already made up, from what I can see.”

“Thank you. That eases my heart,” Wei Hui said, her shoulders finally relaxing. “I’ve been thinking about how to help A-Ying overcome his fear without scaring him further…”

Her gaze drifted out across the lotus pond.

“Maybe we could start with smaller ones, Hui-Jie?” Yanli offered.

Hui nodded thoughtfully. “Something that looks harmless. And doesn’t bark or bite.”

Jiang Yanli covered her mouth with her sleeve and giggled. “Finding a dog that doesn’t bark might be a little difficult, Hui-Jie.”

Wei Hui sighed. “Then, perhaps A-Li and her little brother can lend a hand in helping A-Ying with this fear?”

Jiang Yanli smiled, eyes warm. “I’ll talk to A-Cheng, Hui-Jie.”

The two continued their conversation, sharing quiet laughter and gentle stories as the day slipped by. It was a pleasant afternoon—one where, at least, she found a budding friendship in Jiang Yanli.

That evening, Wei Hui returned to her room. She pushed the door open, sleeves trailing lightly behind her, only to stop in her tracks.

Wei Ying was sprawled across the floor.

Her brows immediately furrowed, ready to scold him, until she sensed something different.

She froze. “A-Ying? You…”

Wei Ying sprang to his feet, eyes alight. “JIE! I FORMED MY CORE!”

He ran to her and hugged her tightly for a second before bouncing back, patting his lower abdomen with pride.

He beamed at her, eyes gleaming with joy and triumph. Wei Hui barely noticed the sting in her eyes as a wide smile broke across her face. She grasped his wrist, feeling it for herself—then gasped.

“A-Ying! You did it!”

All thoughts of scolding him vanished. The memory of her earlier worry dissolved in an instant.

“Hmn! I did! See? I’ll catch up with you now!” He grinned mischievously.

She huffed and flicked his forehead. “You wish. Train properly first before talking big.”

“Ow! Jie! What if I lose my head? That’ll be your fault!”

She rolled her eyes. “Your head won’t come off unless someone slashes it off with a sword.”

They both burst out laughing. Wei Hui pulled him close and pressed a kiss to his temple.

“You did well, my Didi.”

After forming his golden core, Wei Ying trained harder than ever. He studied with renewed determination, fueled by one simple desire. To make his Jie proud. More than anything, he wanted to grow strong enough to protect her—or at least fight beside her. Because Night-hunting with his Jie... was sure going to be so much fun.

One warm afternoon, he was in the courtyard, diligently practicing with the training sword he’d been given. Sweat clung to his brow, his sleeves rolled to the elbow. Just as he prepared to repeat a difficult form, he heard footsteps.

As usual, Jiang Cheng approached with that ever-present scowl on his face. Behind him was their Shijie, Jiang Yanli, her smile soft and calm, the perfect contrast to her younger brother’s usual grumpiness.

“A-Cheng! Shijie!” Wei Ying beamed, dropping the sword and rushing toward them with enthusiasm. “I thought you two were heading to the backyard?”

Jiang Cheng grunted, arms crossing over his chest. “Plans changed.”

Then, as if the thought had just occurred to him, his gaze scanned the area. “Where’s Hui-Jie?”

Wei Ying’s smile turned playful—far too playful. Jiang Cheng immediately regretted opening his mouth.

“Don’t look at me like that!”

“Why are you asking for my Jie, hmm?” Wei Ying stepped closer, teasing. “If you want to see my wonderful Jie, Chengcheng—”

“Stop calling me that!” Jiang Cheng snapped, face turning slightly red.

“—you know you can always come with me when I visit Jie.” Wei Ying finished, smug.

Before Jiang Cheng could come up with a sharp retort, Jiang Yanli gently stepped in.

“All right, both of you, that’s enough.” She reached out and lightly patted their heads with sisterly affection. “If Hui-Jie comes and sees you arguing again, she’ll scold you.”

That worked like magic. Both boys immediately fell silent, pouting like chastised children.

But only for a moment.

Wei Ying groaned dramatically, then grinned and slung an arm around Jiang Cheng’s shoulders. “Chengcheng—”

“I said, stop calling me that!”

Wei Ying only grinned wider. “Aiya, you’re such a killjoy.” He stepped in front of Jiang Cheng, arms spread wide. “You see—”

“Stop pestering him, A-Ying.” Much to Jiang Cheng’s relief, Wei Hui had finally arrived.

As always, her posture was straight, composed, and unmistakably graceful. The purple robes she wore swayed with every step, elegant and fluid. Her long hair, tied with a red ribbon into a high ponytail—the same one her little brother wore.

Her hands were tucked neatly into her sleeves, and something about the way she held them made Wei Ying immediately suspicious.

His eyes narrowed. “Jie... what are you hiding inside your sleeve?”

She didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she gave him a long, unreadable look that sent a chill down his spine. Suddenly nervous, Wei Ying took a small step back.

“A-Ying,” She said softly. “We’ve talked about this before.”

Wei Ying said nothing, but his lips pressed into a pout as he listened.

“You need to overcome your fear of dogs.”

That was the cue. Without another word, Wei Ying spun around to flee—but Jiang Cheng was faster. He grabbed his arm, holding him in place.

“Let Hui-Jie finish!”

Wei Ying shook his head vigorously, clearly not on board. “Nope! No way! Not today!”

“A-Ying,” Hui said gently, stepping closer. “Jie’s here. I won’t let you get hurt.” Wei Ying's eyes were wide, and teary eyes met hers, still full of protest. 

Her heart ached at the sight.

“It’ll be fine. We’ll start with the small ones. I promise.” She took another slow step forward. “Not every dog is like the one that cornered you before. There are kind ones, too.” Still, Wei Ying shook his head, trembling.

“A-Ying, we’ll take it slow,” Jiang Yanli chimed in, voice soothing. “You can trust Hui-Jie. Trust us.”

“Look,” Wei Hui said, slowly drawing her hands from her sleeves.

Wei Ying clenched his eyes shut, arms bracing in front of him like a shield.

“It’s okay. Just look, all right?” She softly coaxed.

He opened one eye.

Then the other.

When his eyes fell his Jie's hand, he saw it. What she held in her hands was…

Not a dog.

It was a soft, handmade doll of a dog—stitched with care, small enough to sit in one hand.

“See?” Hui smiled softly. “We’ll start from this. It’s harmless.”

Wei Ying groaned and let out a half-laugh, half-cry. “But that’s a doll! It’s not the same!”

“I know,” Hui replied. “But I just need you to get used to the sight of a dog. Once you’re comfortable, we’ll introduce real ones. Tiny ones. Friendly ones. Ones that won’t hurt you.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Because I’m here,” She said, her tone unwavering. “I won’t let anything hurt my brother.” Wei Ying blinked. His eyes were still watery, but he looked up at her, slowly grounding himself in her voice. “Jie wants you to get better,” She continued. “So even if I’m not around, you’ll be brave enough to face your fears.” Her words sank deep into his heart. 

Slowly, she crouched down in front of him, holding out the plush dog.

“It’s okay. Please, A-Ying?”

He hesitated. Then, with a shaky breath and trembling hands, he nodded. Gently, she placed the toy in his palms. 

“You’re doing great. You’re going to be fine.”

Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli quietly stepped back, giving the two Wei siblings space. Wei Hui then pulled him into a hug and pressed a kiss to his temple before calling the other two into the hug.

From that day on, with the help of Jiang Yanli and Jiang Cheng, they began helping Wei Ying overcome his fear of dogs. Slowly. Patiently. Kindly. Whether by mentioning them in stories, showing pictures, or letting him observe from afar, they made progress, one step at a time.

Jiang Cheng was more than eager to talk about his dogs—until Wei Ying heard their names.

He burst out laughing. “Really?! That’s the name you gave them?!”

Since then, Jiang Cheng has never heard the end of it. And Wei Ying never stopped teasing him about his terrible naming sense.

While helping her younger brother through his fears, Wei Hui never neglected her responsibilities. She diligently pursued her studies, and when she wasn’t training or reading, she spent time in town assisting anyone in need. Over time, her efforts earned her the respect and admiration of the people of Yunmeng.

There were even times when people would call out her name, either to ask for help or simply to offer her something. She always accepted it with a warm smile and a grateful thank you. 

And much to the others' amazement, even without her spiritual sword yet, Wei Hui proved to be a formidable fighter. Whenever she joined night hunts alongside Jiang Lin and the other disciples, she more than held her own. Jiang Lin, in particular, was thrilled, especially after witnessing Wei Hui flawlessly execute the Jiang sect’s sword style.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you beat me tomorrow,” Jiang Lin said with a quiet laugh as they walked through the town.

Wei Hui snorted in amusement. “Lin-Jie, stop feeding my ego.” A soft smile followed. “I wouldn’t have gotten this far if it weren’t for you.”

Jiang Lin scoffed. “Oh, don’t try that on me.” She gave Wei Hui a knowing look, one brow raised. “You’re a self-made cultivator, Hui’er. No matter how much you downplay it, I’ve seen the way you push yourself. You’ve worked harder than anyone.”

Wei Hui looked away, lips pressed together for a beat. “Maybe... but I was just trying to keep up. I didn’t want to be left behind.” Her voice dropped, honest and unguarded. “When I first joined the sect, I didn’t know anyone. You were the first person who helped me.”

It was true. Starting late hadn’t been the hard part, not for her. She was naturally smart, social and knew how to read a room. But she also understood that not everyone wanted to connect. Sect politics were different from town life. Pride and lineage often cast longer shadows than kindness did.

Still, Jiang Lin had made the effort to speak to her. To make her feel welcome. Everything changed after Wei Hui was transferred to the advanced classes. That’s also when the other disciples started approaching her on their own.

Jiang Lin’s expression softened. Her teasing faded, replaced by something gentler. “And now you’ve found your own path, Hui’er. That strength? That’s all you. No one gave it to you.”

Wei Hui exhaled, her shoulders relaxing. “Sometimes I still wonder... if it’s enough. If I’m enough to protect the people I care about.” Her gaze lifted to the sky, her voice quieter now. “Especially... my brother.”

“You are,” Jiang Lin said firmly. “You don’t have to carry everything alone. Even strength needs rest. Even guardians need someone beside them.”

Wei Hui turned to her, touched by the sincerity in her words. A small, grateful smile curled at her lips. Vulnerability didn’t come easily to her, but with Jiang Lin... she felt safe. She rarely said it out loud, but Lin-Jie had helped her more than she would ever know.

“Then… will you stand beside me, Lin-Jie?”

Jiang Lin chuckled. “I already am, aren’t I? And when the time comes—sparring or real battle—don’t think I’ll go easy on you.” She nudged her companion. 

Wei Hui laughed, the sound light and unguarded. “Good. I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

The two continued walking side by side. A breeze passed gently through the streets. The town bustled with life—vendors calling, children laughing, cultivators passing by with nods of greeting. Many waved at Wei Hui, who returned their gestures with a warm smile. Occasionally, both women stopped to help a merchant carry goods or guide a lost child.

Later that evening, during dinner at Lotus Pier, Jiang Fengmian suddenly spoke. “Your coming-of-age ceremony is nearing, A-Hui.” His tone was gentle, almost proud. “Have you chosen a name for your spiritual sword?”

Wei Hui paused mid-bite, smiled faintly, then resumed eating. Her eyes briefly flicked toward Madam Yu, seated beside him. As always, the sect matriarch looked tense, her expression etched with disapproval.

Wei Hui had never exchanged more than a few words with her. Frankly, it felt like Madam Yu would choose to die rather than speak to her directly, so she never tried.

“I hve, Uncle Jiang." She answered, prompting a pleased smile from him.

“Oh? Would you mind telling me?”

“I’ve chosen Hengren,” she replied after a short pause. “I picked it carefully. I’m sure that’s the name I want for my sword.”

A flicker of pride lit Jiang Fengmian’s eyes as he nodded. “It’s a strong name. And a thoughtful one.” Then he added, “How about your courtesy name? Do you have one in mind, or would you like me to help choose one for you?”

Wei Hui set down her chopsticks. She quietly wiped her hands and reached into her sleeve, retrieving something she had kept close for years. Both Wei Ying and Jiang Cheng leaned in with curiosity, and even Jiang Fengmian paused to watch her.

She slowly opened her hand, revealing a neatly folded handkerchief. Embroidered on the fabric was a single name.

Wei Yixiang.

Jiang Fengmian stared at it for a long moment before lifting his gaze to her, a question in his eyes, though his expression remained kind.

“What is this, A-Hui?”

Her eyes flickered toward Madam Yu, then to her younger brother across the table.

“When I was six... A-Die and A-Niang taught me how to write these characters.” She caught Wei Ying's wide eyes. Her voice trembled slightly, but she steadied herself. “When I asked what they meant, they told me it was the name they had chosen for me. For when I came of age.”

Realization settled into Jiang Fengmian’s expression. He blinked once, then offered a soft smile.

“I see.”

But before anyone else could speak, Madam Yu did.

“Why bother with such things? It’s not important. You should focus on your own children instead.”

Jiang Fengmian sighed tiredly. “San-niang, this is important, too—”

Wrong choice of words, Uncle Jiang.Wei Hui thought grimly as she quietly resumed eating.

Madam Yu slammed her chopsticks onto the table. “So now you’re saying your children aren’t important? You put more thought into this girl’s ceremony than theirs!”

But Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli’s ceremony wasn’t even close yet. She bit her tongue and swallowed the words before they could rise in her throat.

The room grew heavy with tension. The children shifted in their seats, clearly uncomfortable with the sudden escalation.

“You can’t even properly—!”

Before it could escalate further, Wei Hui stood up and bowed respectfully. “Forgive me, Madam Yu, Uncle Jiang.”

Both adults looked at her. Madam Yu narrowed her eyes. Jiang Fengmian looked faintly worried.

“I hope you’ll pardon me for interrupting.” Her smile was polite—so polite it made Madam Yu’s eye twitch. “If Madam Yu finds it unnecessary to hold a proper coming-of-age ceremony, I have no complaints. A simple one will suffice, as long as I can receive my sword and take on my courtesy name properly.”

Jiang Fengmian frowned, but said nothing.

“However,” She continued, “I ask that both Sect Leader and Madam Jiang refrain from arguing in front of the children. Especially during meals.” She straightened her back, gaze steady.

“No,” Jiang Fengmian said at once. “Wei Hui will have a proper coming-of-age ceremony. That is final.”

Yu Ziyuan turned sharply toward him, voice low and venomous. “Not another word, San-niang. I will not let you dictate this.”

Agitated, she glared at Wei Hui. “Do whatever you want.” She stormed off in silence, fists clenched, Zidian crackling faintly around her wrist.

Wei Hui slowly sat back down, the silence lingering like smoke.

That... was childish.

Chapter Text

True to his word, Jiang Fengmian had prepared Wei Hui’s coming-of-age ceremony with such seriousness that she quietly wished he hadn’t. She couldn’t understand why the elders were so supportive, either—especially when their sect madam had been so furious she left Lotus Pier altogether.

As far as she knew, Madam Yu had returned to her natal sect and would be staying there until this whole “ridiculous” matter, as she put it, was over.

Now, seated quietly among the elders of the Jiang Sect and the sect leader himself, Wei Hui stared ahead, unsure why she had been summoned. But with all of them present, she knew it had to be important, something that unsettled her more than she cared to admit.

"A-Hui."

She turned toward the window, where a curtain fluttered gently in the breeze. Her eyes landed on the elder who had spoken—Jiang Meng. He was Jiang Fengmian’s uncle, a cousin of his father.

“Elder Meng,” she responded politely.

“Over the years, since you and your brother joined the sect, you’ve brought nothing but miracles,” the old man said, thoughtfully stroking his mustache. “A twin of geniuses. Yunmeng Jiang is lucky to have you both.”

Another elder joined in.

“We would like to ask something of you, Hui.”

“This one is willing to listen,” She said, bowing her head. A few elders smiled in approval.

“We’ve decided that it’s time for the Jiang Sect to appoint a new Head Disciple,” the elder said, watching closely as Wei Hui went still. Her expression faltered, and she slowly looked up with uncertain eyes.

“Pardon?”

“You are the best candidate, A-Hui,” another elder said. “No one else is as suited for the role.”

Wei Hui’s heart skipped a beat. She was overwhelmed. She couldn’t understand why the elders had suddenly decided it was time to replace the current Head Disciple—or why they thought she was the right choice. She didn’t even know if she wanted the responsibility. All she’d ever wished for was to live freely, manage her path, and care for her brother...

Her siblings, she silently corrected herself.

Calmly, she asked respectfully, “This disciple does not mean to be disrespectful, but... does this one have a say in the matter?”

Jiang Fengmian smiled gently. “Of course, A-Hui. The choice is yours, as it has always been. You may accept or decline it as you wish.”

Slowly, Wei Hui rose from her seat. Her movements were smooth and graceful as she brought her arms forward and bowed deeply.

“This one is deeply grateful to the elders and Sect Leader for recognizing her potential.” The elders smiled, but it faded slightly as she continued. “However, I must decline the offer. I know the position of Head Disciple carries many benefits, but I prefer to remain free to pursue my path. Uncle Jiang once told me that my brother and I had the freedom to choose our lives, and that our choices would be respected. I hope that this, too, will be honored.”

Her voice remained composed as she continued. “I plan to expand my influence outside the sect. Please, do not worry as I don't plan on leaving the sect. I only wish to build ventures that could also benefit the sect. To do that, I’ll need your blessing and your support, elders and sect leader."

There was a pause as the elders exchanged glances, a bit disappointed, but clearly considering her proposal. Jiang Fengmian sat in thought for a moment.

“Is this truly what you want?”

“Yes. Will the elders and Sect Leader allow it?” She asked again, bowing.

Murmurs spread quietly through the room. Jiang Fengmian raised a hand to silence them. With his usual warmth, he smiled at her.

“Let us discuss it further. For now, you may return to your quarters and prepare for tomorrow’s ceremony.”

Wei Hui straightened, offering him a calm smile. “Yes, Uncle Jiang.” With that, she turned and left the hall, her hands neatly tucked into her sleeves. Her steps were silent, her posture steady. There was grace in her every movement—quiet, poised, and resolute.

As she walked down the hallway, she could hear the soft rustling of plants outside and the gentle splashing of water coming from the nearby lake. The air was cool, and the breeze drifted in quietly, brushing against the hanging lanterns and making them sway slightly. Everything felt calm and steady—just the usual sounds and sights of a peaceful afternoon in the Lotus Pier.

Stopping in her tracks, Wei Hui’s ears caught a sharp shriek echoing through the open air.

“A-Cheng! Jasmine is going to escape!”

It was Wei Ying’s voice. Although he sounded panicked, there was unmistakable laughter beneath it. That alone was enough to ease any worry in Wei Hui’s chest.

He had made remarkable progress with dogs recently. While he still wasn’t entirely comfortable being close to them, at least he no longer burst into tears or panicked whenever one ran near him. It had taken time—days and weeks of coaxing, patience, and gentle encouragement. Jiang Yanli and Jiang Cheng had played a major role in that progress, especially on days when Wei Hui herself was away. She’d often return to see them carefully guiding Wei Ying into petting a dog or tossing a treat toward it, always with soft voices and open smiles.

Still, Wei Hui couldn't help but worry.

Wei Ying, her younger brother, she knows, is growing curious about their parents. He had been only five when they disappeared. Now that he was growing older, Wei Hui could sense the unspoken questions lingering in his mind, especially after she shared the story behind her courtesy name during that dinner. 

She had honestly braced herself to be questioned after that dinner, but none came. Wei Ying had only beamed at her with that radiant smile of his, expressing nothing but excitement for her coming-of-age ceremony. Not a single mention of their mother or father was spoken aloud.

She sighed quietly, then smiled again when she heard his voice once more.

“I wonder if you decide to adopt another dog, will it be named Little Lotus next?”

“Ge!” Jiang Cheng’s exasperated groan followed, clear and annoyed.

Their footsteps thundered against the wooden walkway. Wei Hui turned a corner just in time to see the two boys racing in circles—Jiang Cheng chasing after Wei Ying with determined fury, while the latter laughed freely, his whole body moving with joy.

The sight made her stop. She watched them for a few seconds longer, her heart quietly settling. The storm inside her chest, the worries, the weight of responsibilities she had just turned away dissolved into a kind of warmth.

"Alright, the two of you, that's enough." She called, voice calm but firm.

They froze mid-run, immediately plopping down on the ground as if they’d been caught in some grand mischief. Both boys were panting, covered in dust, hair tousled, and cheeks red.

Wei Hui walked over and pulled out two neatly folded napkins from her sleeve, handing one to each of them. “Go back to your rooms and get ready for dinner,” she instructed, giving them both a look. “And don’t even think about showing up at the table if you haven’t washed up.”

Jiang Cheng grumbled under his breath as he stood, brushing off the dirt clinging to the hem of his skirt. “Yes, Hui-jie…”

On the other hand, Wei Ying only laughed and tilted his head. “Jie, what’s the point of washing up before dinner if there’s still a chance you’ll get messy during the meal?”

When Wei Hui narrowed her eyes at him in warning, he quickly pouted and scratched his head sheepishly.

Then, before she could say anything more, he threw an arm around Jiang Cheng’s shoulder and grinned. “See? We’re going now, Jie!" And with that, the two boys bolted again, this time back toward the inner courtyards—still laughing, still alive in their little world.

Wei Hui watched them disappear, the corner of her lips lifting once more. 

The next morning, several servants arrived at Wei Hui’s quarters. They woke her up at Mao Shi—helped her bathe, and brought in a carefully prepared breakfast. She didn’t complain, silently following their instructions.

Fortunately, she was already used to waking up early. If it had been her little brother, he’d have spent the entire morning whining about how unfair it was to wake up so early, choosing to sleep over the ceremony without a second thought.

While she patiently waited for the servants to finish arranging her hair, she remained still, reading a book she had asked for ahead of time. With hair as long as hers, she expected them to take a while, but she hoped they’d at least keep the style simple.

And for once, heaven listened.

The upper half of her hair was gathered and twisted into a neat crown at the back of her head, braided into two circular coils that resembled a blooming flower. At its center sat an ornate hairpin, adorned with red beads and a delicate purple lotus. The rest of her hair flowed freely down her back, a red ribbon woven through the crown and trailing down with the loose strands.

Once the servants finished and stepped aside, she was left to change alone. The robe they’d laid out for her was neatly placed on the bed. With a soft sigh, she slipped out of her inner robe and into the ceremonial hanfu.

It was simple but elegant—a flowing lavender ensemble made of layered, translucent fabric. The robe crossed neatly at the front and was secured by a sash tied at the waist, its ribbon trailing to the floor. The wide, loose sleeves were swallow-tailed with ties at the elbows, and the upper garment bore pale floral embroidery along the chest and shoulders. The skirt was full and floor-length, rustling softly with each movement she made.

Soon after, the servants returned to help with her makeup. They inspected her appearance before calling in others to fuss over her face next. To her quiet relief once more, the cosmetics were kept light.

“You’re already beautiful with a bare face, Young Lady Wei,” one of the women said kindly, cupping her chin. “We’ll just add some powder and blush to highlight your features. A little gloss for your lips—that should be more than enough.”

Wei Hui gave a small nod.

That’ll be enough, she thought.

Minutes passed, and someone knocked on the door.

“Jie?” It was Jiang Yanli’s voice.

“Come in, A-Li,” Wei Hui answered softly.

The younger girl stepped inside and paused for a heartbeat, her eyes widening before she broke into a bright smile.

“You look beautiful, Hui-jie,” she said warmly. “I hope I’m not intruding.”

“You’re not,” Wei Hui assured her. “Thank you for coming. I’ve been feeling a little nervous—having you here helps.”

Jiang Yanli opened her mouth to respond, but the door opened again, and Jiang Lin strode in with a bright grin and glassy eyes.

“Ah! My favorite student! You’re finally getting your courtesy name and sword!” The older woman wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “I’m so proud of you!”

Yanli giggled softly while Wei Hui let out a faint sigh.

“All right, is it done?” Jiang Lin asked, scanning her. “Good. You’re leading the ceremony today, remember? You go before the others.”

She patted her shoulder encouragingly. Yanli offered her hand to help her stand, watching her with a tender smile. Wei Hui returned the gesture by gently pinching the girl’s cheek.

“When it’s your turn, A-Li, I’ll be the one helping you from head to toe,” Wei Hui teased with a wink.

The three of them left her quarters together.

Their walk toward the ceremonial hall wasn’t quiet—Jiang Lin, despite her usual sternness, was a loud and animated woman. She laughed, shouted cheerful remarks, and chatted freely. Yanli, too polite to ignore her, responded now and then with a soft voice and a polite smile.

“We’re here,” Wei Hui said, pausing at the ceremonial hall’s entrance.

Jiang Yanli smiled warmly before walking over to where Jiang Cheng and Wei Ying were seated. The hall was filled, mostly with younger disciples and townsfolk invited to witness the occasion.

At Wei Hui’s request, Jiang Fengmian had refrained from inviting other sects. She knew Madam Yu would be furious enough as it was, and she didn’t want to make matters worse by turning the event into something larger than necessary. After all, she was only a disciple—even if she and her brother had been taken in as wards. She didn’t want to pour more fuel into Madam Yu’s already burning temper.

“Are you ready, A-Hui?” Jiang Fengmian asked with a kind smile.

Wei Hui nodded. “Yes, Uncle Jiang.”

The ceremony began.

She listened carefully, taking in every word the sect leader spoke. She committed them not just to memory, but to heart. Images flashed in her mind—the day their parents disappeared, the nights she and Wei Ying spent on the streets, the moment Jiang Fengmian found them, their first day in Lotus Pier… and now, she's here.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Wei Ying beaming from his seat. He looked unusually tidy—probably taking extra care with his appearance for her coming-of-age ceremony.

Her lips curved up in a quiet smile.

“Wei Hui,” Jiang Fengmian announced, “From this day forward, you shall be known as Wei Yixiang. Do you accept?”

Kneeling gracefully, she raised her hands. “Yes, Jiang-zongzhu.”

He placed a scroll in her palms.

“Just like your name, I hope you will soar high with a sense of justice. Continue helping the weak and offering peace to the restless.”

“I swear to thrive harder, soar higher, and seek justice with strength—not only of mind, but of heart.”

Jiang Lin stepped forward, gently taking the scroll from her hands.

Another elder approached, carrying a cushion. On the cushion, a sword rests. It was long and slender, but by the look of it, it's a high-class weapon. 

The sword was long and slender, with a white sheath accented in gold, featuring a leaf or flame-like design near the tip and mouth. The hilt was also delicately crafted in soft gold and ivory tones, shaped with smooth, crescent-like curves, while the guard was designed in a small circle that resembles the yin-yang symbol. 

“This spiritual sword will be your third hand, your aid, and your companion. May you always carry it with confidence and pride,” Jiang Fengmian said, handing the sword to her. “What will you name it?”

“Hengren.”

A soft murmur passed through the crowd, and she noticed the approving glances exchanged between the elders.

“Your oath.”

Wei Hui stood, lifting the sword with both hands. Concentrating, she gathered her spiritual energy and focused her qi into the blade. A gentle glow—pure and bright—wrapped around the sword. It resonated with her touch, accepting her as its master.

“I vow to wield this sword only for justice and truth,” she said, her voice unwavering. “To fight for what is right, and to restore balance when the world begins to shake. I vow that this sword shall only protect the innocent and strike down those truly evil.”

Unsheathing the blade, she felt it vibrated in her grasp, as if affirming her words.

She couldn't help but observe the blade. The blade had a gradient that shifted from silver-white at the top to a faded midnight purple, ending in a rich crimson at the tip. It amazed Wei Hui, and she immediately wanted to ask how such a blade was made.

“Hengren, Blade of Balance.”

Another ripple of whispers followed.

“Seal." Jiang Fengmian instructed.

Wei Yixiang dragged her finger lightly along the blade’s edge, drawing a small cut. She pinched the wound and let a single drop of blood fall onto the sword’s center. The glow pulsed once, sealing the bond.

The ceremony continued. She went on to bow, thank, and greet the many who had come. Though her smile remained composed, it was sincere. Eventually, she joined her brother at the Jiang family’s side. Wei Ying bounced excitedly beside her, eyes wide and full of joy. 

Three days later, Madam Yu returned.

She didn’t spare Wei Hui a glance. And Wei Hui didn’t take it to heart. Still, she remained respectful, pausing and bowing every time she passed by the woman.

Madam Yu would only scoff at her in return. 

But that was fine.

Wei Yixiang found that it is unnecessary to pay attention to someone who was born bitter.

“A-Xiang, at your back!”

Without hesitation, she spun on her heel, blocking the incoming corpse's strike. Channeling her spiritual energy into her legs, she drove a powerful kick into the corpse’s abdomen before drawing her sword and swiftly beheading it. The head rolled across the dirt, and the body collapsed seconds later. 

Panting lightly, Wei Hui sheathed her sword and turned to Jiang Lin.

“Thank you.”

The older girl just winked and gave her a thumbs-up before turning to check on the other disciples. They were currently on the final leg of a night-hunt that had stretched on for days. They should’ve been heading back to the Palace by now, but the sudden appearance of so many wandering corpses had forced them to stop.

“W-Why do you think there are so many corpses out here?” A timid voice asked. It was A-Yi, a young, soft-spoken disciple, who Wei Hui knew had great potential.

Yixiang, still catching her breath, surveyed their surroundings with narrowed eyes. “Looks like something’s wrong. We’ll need to investigate.”

“But… aren’t we supposed to be returning today?” A-Yi glanced around nervously.

“A-Yi,” Wei Hui said gently but firmly, “as cultivators, it’s our duty to make sure this area poses no threat to anyone passing through. You said it yourself—it’s strange. We need to know why these corpses are here.”

She wrinkled her nose. “They’re reeking of resentment, too.”

Jiang Lin returned to her side, arms crossed. “I told the others to wrap up the corpses. We’ll take them to the nearby town and ask if anyone recognizes them.”

Wei Hui nodded silently.

When they reached the town, Jiang Lin took the lead in locating the town leader. Yixiang followed close behind, while the rest of the disciples who weren’t carrying anything stayed behind at the inn to rest and recover. They stopped at a small shop where an elderly woman was tending to a shallow pond just beside the structure. Jiang Lin bowed, and the others followed suit.

“Good afternoon, madam,” she said politely. “May we ask where we can find the town leader’s residence or office?”

The woman eyed them in silence for a moment, then slowly lifted her hand to the tallest building in the town. Wei Hui's eyes followed her finger. The building was weathered so that it looked nearly abandoned.

“Thank you, madam,” Jiang Lin said, nodding. “Let’s go.”

As they walked toward the building, Wei Hui kept her gaze fixed on it. The structure gave her an uneasy feeling, like something was watching from behind its darkened windows.

“What do you think happened to those corpses?” She finally asked.

“Hard to say,” Jiang Lin murmured, knocking on the warped door. “There are too many possibilities.”

A gasp rang out from inside, then the unmistakable sound of bones cracking. Immediately, Wei Hui’s hand flew to her sword hilt as a wave of resentful energy pulsed outward.

“Lin-Jie,” she whispered.

“I know.”

Without hesitation, Yixiang stepped back and kicked the door open. Her sword gleamed as she unsheathed it.

Inside stood a man, twisted, broken. His head was turned completely backward, and just the sight of it made Wei Hui wince. Without warning, he lunged at them, fast and wild—faster than most corpses she’d encountered.

But Wei Yixiang met his speed with her own. She darted in with fluid, precise footwork and steel flashing in her hand. With a twist of her wrist, she drove her blade forward, slamming into the corpse’s chest. Her relentless strikes pinned it down, not giving it a moment to react.

Then came the laughter.

It was high, mocking, and feminine.

It echoed through the building, sending shivers down the disciples’ spines. The others fanned out, weapons drawn, trying to find the source. The air grew thick with resentment.

“Move aside,” she instructed firmly.

Drawing a deep breath, Wei Yixiang gathered a strong surge of spiritual energy. She gripped her sword, turned on her heel, and unleashed it—her spiritual power flaring throughout every corner of the room. It radiated light and purity, vibrating with intensity. The spirit fell to its knees, momentarily stunned.

Wei Yixiang could see the expression on the spirit’s face, which was twisted into one of pure hatred.

Cautiously, she stepped forward, “Why are you doing this?” she asked.

The spirit growled and opened its mouth, attempting to speak, but its words came out garbled and unintelligible.

“This won’t do." She muttered under her breath.

Without hesitation, she pulled out a talisman, closed the distance between them, and activated it. Caught off guard, the spirit failed to resist in time.

“Corner and suppress her!” She commanded.

The Jiang disciples acted immediately, working to contain the spirit’s violent thrashing. Wei Yixiang gritted her teeth. If only they had cultivators from the Lan Clan—their music cultivation, especially the Inquiry, would’ve made a lot of things easier.

The disciples began to struggle again, barely keeping the spirit contained.

With no other option, Wei Yixiang turned to her last resort. Her gaze darted to a nearby table. She grabbed the ink and brush, pushing aside furniture to clear a space on the floor.

“Hold it down!” she ordered, clearing the floor with her sleeve. 

She began drawing a sealing array directly on the ground. Every stroke was quick yet deliberate, and each line was measured precisely. She made sure to double-check her work, because one wrong mark could end in disaster.

And that's the least thing they'd want.

“Let us know when it's ready!” Jiang Lin shouted, recognizing the pattern she was creating.

“Get her into the center!” She called back.

The spirit thrashed wildly, nearly breaking free—until Wei Hui ran forward and delivered a sharp kick that sent it flying into the center of the array.

Without wasting a breath, she poured her spiritual energy into the sealing array, activating it. A ring of light pulsed outward, freezing the spirit in place. It screamed, but couldn’t move.

Silence followed.

For a few long moments, no one moved. Once they were sure it was truly contained, the disciples sank to the ground, exhausted.

“We still can’t understand her,” Wei Hui said seriously, turning to Jiang Lin.

Jiang Lin nodded. “Think we can ask for the Lan clan’s help?”

“Gusu is a bit far,” Wei Hui replied with a tired sigh. “The closest would be Qinghe.”

She stepped outside the building, hoping for a moment to clear her head. The town looked normal on the surface—people going about their business—but she noticed more than a few curious glances cast toward the building.

Keeping her expression smooth, she exhaled slowly.

Just as she was turning to go back inside, she caught sight of a group of cultivators heading down the main street. Some wore white robes with blue accents, and some wore silver robes, with the white robe cultivators wearing forehead ribbons embroidered with cloud patterns. She immediately knew that they were Lan cultivators with Nie cultivators. Two men are leading them, a man with a warm, composed smile and the other with a grumpier scowl.

Recognition flickered in Wei Yixiang’s eyes. She had seen the Nie cultivator before.

A Jiang disciple exited the inn, and she called him over. “Leave Jiang Lin and the three disciples to keep watch on the spirit. The rest, send them around the town. Have them ask the locals if they recognize any of the corpses.”

The disciple blinked but quickly bowed. “Understood, Young Lady Wei." As he turned to leave, Wei Yixiang narrowed her eyes. The cultivators were getting further away.

She clicked her tongue, unsheathed her sword, and mounted it. With ease, she flew ahead of the group and landed smoothly in their path. Startled, the cultivators immediately took defensive stances.

“What the—” The Nie cultivator snapped, glaring.

“Jue-ge,” The Lan cultivator said calmly, placing a hand on his companion’s arm, “wait.”

Wei Yixiang sheathed her sword and bowed with grace. “Greetings, young masters. I hope I’m not intruding.”

“You are intruding,” Nie Mingjue growled. “Now move.”

“Jue-ge,” the Lan cultivator said with a small sigh, “please.”

He turned back to Wei Yixiang and returned her bow with a soft smile. “How may we assist you, guniang?”

“This one is Wei Hui, courtesy name Wei Yixiang, a disciple of Yunmeng-Jiang,” she introduced. “We’re currently on a night hunt. We encountered a high-level spirit. She’s sealed for now, but we’re unsure whether to eradicate her or attempt an inquiry. The issue is—we can’t understand her. We considered requesting aid from the Gusu-Lan, but the distance is a bit far from here.”

Understanding flickered in his eyes. “You wish for us to use Inquiry?”

She smiled faintly. “Yes, gongzi, if you have time to spare.”

He nodded and turned to the Nie cultivator. “Jue-ge, let’s take a look.”

The other man let out a grumble but nodded.

“Please forgive us for not introducing ourselves earlier,” the Lan cultivator added. “I am Lan Xichen of Gusu-Lan, and this is Nie Mingjue of Qinghe-Nie.”

She bowed again. “It's an honor to meet you. Please follow me.”

As they walked toward the building, a disciple ran up to her, panting. “Young Lady Wei—wait…” He bent over, catching his breath.

Wei Yixiang sighed and reached for something in her sleeve. She pulled out a bottle of water and handed it to him. The boy gratefully accepted it and gulped it down.

Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue exchanged looks but said nothing, observing the quiet authority she carried with interest. Wei Yixiang, on the other hand, remained calm, patient as the disciple gathered himself.

“What is it?” She asked once the boy calmed down.

"We followed your orders," he said. “All the corpses we encountered were indeed former citizens of this town... and they had already been buried.”

Wei Yixiang’s expression tightened.

“We checked the graveyard,” another disciple added as he fell in line beside the other boy. “The graves were dug out.”

“How did no one notice this?” she asked.

“They said the graveyard had been shut down. The town leader forbade anyone from entering it.”

She was silent for a long moment, lost in thought. Then she gave a quick nod. “Keep questioning the townspeople. Send the others to help in the graveyard and rebury the bodies properly.”

The two disciples bowed and left without another word.

Turning back to Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue, she motioned for them to follow.

“How long have you been on this night hunt, Wei-guniang?” Lan Xichen asked as they walked.

“We had just completed the hunt we were originally assigned,” she replied. “But on the way back, we came across an unusual number of corpses. This town was the closest settlement. We assumed they might be from here.”

She glanced at them sideways. “Unfortunately, when we entered the town leader’s office—this building—we found it steeped in resentment. And the town leader himself... had become a fierce corpse, likely under the control of the spirit we captured.”

Lan Xichen’s face grew more solemn. “I see. Then it’s a good thing you found us.”

“We tied the fierce corpse and had the spirit suppressed in a sealing array.” Wei Yixiang didn’t bother knocking, she simply pushed the door open.

The two Jiang disciples' guarding near the entrance stiffened immediately, standing upright like they’d been caught doing something illegal.

Wei Yixiang couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.

"Y-young Lady Wei." They stammered, bowing awkwardly.

"Get a room." She impassively told them before walking towards the array.

Lan Xichen, following behind, watched the disciples flush a deep red. Beside him, Nie Mingjue let out a short snort.

The room was as she had left it. The spirit hovered restlessly within the sealing array, its resentful energy still thick in the air. A few paces away lay the fierce corpse, tightly bound with layers of talismans, unmoving for now.

"Where did you go, A-Xiang?" A woman in a deep purple robe asked. Her expression was stern, but her light and teasing tone said otherwise.

Wei Yixiang pointed at the cultivators behind her. The woman slowly looked at them, and upon seeing the Lan cultivators, her eyes lit up.

"Lan cultivators! A-Xiang, you little—" Jiang Lin’s words trailed off as Yixiang politely ignored her, stepping aside.

“This is the spirit,” Yixiang announced. “You may examine it.”

"Where did you find them?" Jiang Lin asked, eyes narrowing.

"Outside, coincidentally." She answered. "Stop thinking about miracles." The older woman only laughed at her.

Lan Xichen stepped forward, pulling out his flute. Wei Yixiang and Jiang Lin stepped aside, standing next to Nie Mingjue. As Lan Xichen began to play Inquiry, Yixiang listened intently, quietly committing every note to her memory.

Jiang Lin nudged her. “Stop memorizing it.”

Yixiang let out a sigh. "Even if I don't, I'll still remember it."

Nie Mingjue glanced at them, intrigued, and Jiang Lin, ever ready to overshare, explained, “Wei Yixiang has an exceptional memory. Whether it’s something she hears or sees once, she can remember it with perfect clarity. That’s why she always picks things up faster than the rest of us, and I guarantee she’ll remember every note he plays right now.”

Nie Mingjue blinked, clearly impressed. “How’s that possible?”

Yixiang gave Jiang Lin a look. “Could you go supervise the others instead of running your mouth?”

Jiang Lin huffed. “Excuse me, I’m not that old. And someone needs to keep an eye on you three.”

Yixiang just snickered. “I’ve had it since I was a kid. If you asked me, I could probably still recall my first steps.”

"That's an incredible gift." She gave a non-committal shrug.

"Useful sometimes."

Lan Xichen’s music slowed, then stopped. He turned toward them with a serious expression.

“Her name is Luo Fang,” he said. “She was harassed and eventually murdered by the town’s leader. When she asked for help from the townspeople, they all turned a blind eye. That's why the second time he tried, she fought back… and he killed her.”

Yixiang’s expression darkened. “What does she want now?”

“She wants to see her mother,” Lan Xichen replied. “The town leader kept her mother hidden away to manipulate her.”

Nie Mingjue asked, "Any idea where the mother might be?"

Yixiang frowned. “Can you ask if she’s responsible for the corpses we found dug up in the graveyard?” she suggested. 

Lan Xichen played a few more notes, then shook his head. "No. She said she was buried underground in this building, trapped and unable to leave."

Nie Mingjue’s expression hardened. “Then we need to check the graveyard.”

The three left Jiang Lin to watch over the spirit and the corpse while they headed outside.

The young man stopped in surprise. “Ah! Young Lady Wei—I didn’t see you there.” He bowed.

“None of that,” she waved off. “Do you know where the graveyard is?”

“Yes, I was actually on my way there.” He straightened. “Would you like me to lead you?”

She nodded. “Please, lead the way.”

Wang Yan guided them through the town, recounting what they’d discovered so far. When they arrived at the graveyard, another disciple rushed toward them.

“Young Lady Wei—” He stopped, noticing the two men behind her. “Young Masters.”

Lan Xichen gave a gentle smile. Nie Mingjue just grunted.

“What’s the situation?” Yixiang asked.

Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue followed closely, listening as the girl led them. They noticed how the disciples seemed to relax around her, as if her very presence brought them ease.

“A disciple found a body that had been poorly buried." The disciple said. “It was hidden near the edge of the woods. A-Meng stepped on it by accident and saw a finger sticking out of the dirt.”

“Where is it?” Nie Mingjue cut in.

The disciple looked at Yixiang. She nodded. They were led to a small clearing where two disciples stood near a half-exposed body—an elderly woman, clearly murdered. They solemnly watched over the older woman’s body. Her throat was slit, and her expression frozen in terror.

Wei Yixiang glanced at Lan Xichen. His expression mirrored hers.

“If we’re right, this might be Luo Fang’s mother." Nie Mingjue said quietly.

Suddenly, someone shouted from a distance. "A spirit!”

The trio rushed toward the commotion. They arrived to find a ghost frantically digging the graves out, as if searching for something long lost.

“Lan Xichen." Both Yixiang and Nie Mingjue said at once.

The two of them stopped and looked at each other before looking away. Lan Xichen calmly stepped forward and began playing.

The spirit gradually calmed down. Each passing moment brought her closer to the sound of the flute. Yixiang and Nie Mingjue instinctively reach for their swords, ready if needed.

When the spirit stopped moving, Lan Xichen lowered his flute.

“Her name is Luo Mei. She was Luo Fang’s mother. She was murdered by the town’s leader and buried in secret. She’s been searching for her daughter ever since.”

Nie Mingjue scowled. “The town leader must’ve shut down the graveyard to hide this.”

“We should bring her to her daughter,” Yixiang said.

"I have a spirit trapping bag here." She offered.

Soon, the mother and daughter spirits were reunited. Both wept silently, embracing each other as the resentment in the air lifted. Wei Yixiang released the sealing array, and at last, the building felt still.

“They’ve expressed their final wish,” Lan Xichen said. “They want to be buried properly, side by side."

They retrieved Luo Fang’s body from beneath the building and returned to the graveyard. The Jiang cultivators joined the Lan and Nie cultivators to bury both mother and daughter side by side, including the rest of the corpses that they came across earlier.

As the Lan disciples played a final cleansing melody, Wei Yixiang stood with Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue, watching the last wisps of resentment fade from the air.

“It seems this is where it ends,” she said softly. “Thank you, Young Master Lan, Young Master Nie. You’ve been a great help.”

Lan Xichen smiled and bowed. “The honor was ours to work alongside such a skilled and level-headed cultivator.”

Nie Mingjue grunted in agreement. “Hope our paths cross again.”

“I wish you both a safe journey.” She nodded.

“And to you, Young Lady Wei,” Nie Mingjue replied.

Before the sun had fully set, the Jiang cultivators rose into the sky on their swords, leaving the quiet town behind.

“Ah! That was exhausting,” Jiang Lin groaned as she stretched, stepping onto the familiar stone path of Lotus Pier’s gates.

Wei Yixiang smiled faintly beside her.

“I’ll be off now, Lin-jie,” she said lightly.

The older woman waved her hand without turning. Yixiang chuckled softly and made her way toward the dining area.

But smething was off.

She noticed how tense the Jiang disciples nearby had become, shoulders stiff, eyes averted. Then, she heard the raised voice from within.

Are they arguing again… during a meal?

Just as she was about to step inside, the words struck her like a slap.

“Why the hell do you keep favoring that brat?! You can’t even give your own children the time of day! And you—are you truly content being the second and the weakest?!”

“San-niang!”

“Why?! You won’t even acknowledge your own son! Is it because he’s weak and that brat is stronger?! What about A-Li?!”

“San-niang, calm down.”

“Calm down?!” Her voice grew shrill, laced with bitterness. “Look at you! You never spare a glance for your children! Are they useless to you now?! Jiang Cheng is the sect heir!”

Yixiang couldn’t bear to hear any more. She stormed through the doorway, her voice thundering, “Madam Jiang!”

Yu Ziyuan turned to her sharply, almost growling. “Oh, look who decided to show up. And don’t you ever call me that, girl.”

“Jie…” Yanli murmured, clearly distressed.

Yu Ziyuan’s glare snapped toward her. “You don’t get to call her that either!”

“What is it to you if she calls me Jie?” Yixiang challenged. “And I will call you Madam Jiang—because you are the madam of this sect.”

The older woman’s agitation deepened, but Yixiang stepped forward, positioning herself protectively before her three siblings.

“See?! This is the result of spoiling these brats—they’ve grown arrogant!”

“MADAM JIANG, SHUT UP!” Yixiang’s voice rang out, sharp and furious.

The entire room fell silent.

Everyone stared—all the disciples nearby and the two elders who were arguing earlier. Her three siblings looked stunned. No one had ever heard her raise her voice like this. No one had seen her this angry.

“Maybe you’re the one who needs to open your eyes—not Uncle Jiang!” She pointed at Jiang Yanli and Jiang Cheng. “Look at them! Look what your words are doing to your own children!”

Yu Ziyuan recovered quickly, fury flashing in her eyes. “How dare you speak to me like that—”

“No, how dare you!” Yixiang’s voice trembled, but she held firm. “How dare you belittle your children to their faces! How dare you dismiss their feelings! How dare you ignore their growth, their strength, their effort—just because you feel insecure!”

Jiang Fengmian stepped forward at last, trying to calm her, but Yixiang shook him off.

“No. Look at your children!”

Finally, both parents turned their gaze to the three by Yixiang’s side. Yanli was looking down, hands folded in her lap, gripping her skirt tightly. Jiang Cheng’s eyes were red, his expression tight, staring into the distance. And Wei Ying… Wei Ying was looking down, lips trembling, tears gathering, but not falling.

“They’re just children! What does it matter if A-Li struggles with cultivation? Do you think she wants to? What if A-Cheng isn’t as perfect as you imagined? He’s already strong in his own way!" Her voice rose again. “There are countless young masters and rogue cultivators out there! Are you going to criticize all of them for being better than your own blood? Are you going to keep hurting your son because he isn’t stronger than the son of the woman you’ve always been insecure about?!”

Yu Ziyuan snapped again, “Who are you calling insecure?!”

“Isn’t it true?” Yixiang’s voice was icy. “Do you think I don’t hear how you slander our parents? Calling my mother a whore? My father is a servant? Who are you to insult a direct disciple of Immortal Baoshan Sanren? And if every disciple in this sect is a ‘servant’ to you, then I’d rather leave than be one of them!”

“A-Xiang...” Jiang Fengmian began again, reaching out, but Yixiang raised her hand and laughed bitterly.

“Look. I admire both of you. Your strength. Your skill. But your parenting?” She scoffed. “It’s pathetic.” She turned toward the children again. “Can’t you see how much they’re suffering? Can’t you see how hard they push themselves just to please you?! Just to hear one word of praise?! Can’t you see how they cry when your words break their hearts?! Every single fucking time! They break themselves apart to make you proud, only to be met with silence, criticism, and disappointment." Her voice broke in rage.

“They don’t need your insecurities. They don’t need your petty arguments, your passivity, your expectations. They need your love. Your care. Your presence as parents! But the truth is, you’ve never acted like one!”

“You don’t know everything!” Yu Ziyuan snapped back.

“I don’t,” Yixiang said. “But I know enough." Her eyes softened as she looked at her siblings.

“Do you even know how many times they’ve asked themselves if they’re enough? Do you know how often they wonder if they’ll ever be good enough for you? Have you ever, even once, asked them if they’re okay?!” She took a step back, letting her words linger. “Because if you haven’t... maybe it’s time you do it.”

"Look... A-Ying and I lost our parents at a young age." She began, her voice trembling. “And for the longest time, all I ever wished for was a family, our parents’ presence. Because living without a mother or father… It’s hard.” Her fists clenched slightly. “But if I had to choose, I'd rather wish my parents were dead than have them alive and still feel like they never existed. At least then… I could mourn. I could accept they’re gone. That’s easier than feeling unwanted by the ones who are supposed to love you most.”

She looked up then, her gaze steady and fierce as it met Yu Ziyuan’s and Jiang Fengmian’s. After a pause, her shoulders slowly relaxed.

“I hope Madam Jiang and Sect Leader Jiang will take this moment to reflect. My actions were unruly, please, if you must punish me, I will accept it." She stepped forward, raised her arms, and bowed deeply in front of them.

Then she turned to the three children.

“A-Li, A-Cheng, A-Ying…” Her voice softened. “Will you be kind enough to accompany Jie to her room?”

The three looked at her in surprise before slowly rising to their feet. Without a word, they followed her out of the room, their steps quiet but steady. 

When they reached her quarters, she pushed the door open gently and gestured for them to go in first. Silence hung in the air. But the moment she stepped inside and pulled the three of them into her arms, they started crying. 

“It’s okay...” She whispered, pressing a kiss to each of their heads. “It’s okay. Don’t believe their words. You three are the strongest people I’ve ever known. And you're so much more than what they say.”

What Wei Hui didn’t realize in that moment was that they thought she was the strongest and bravest one standing...

Not just in that room.

But in the entire sect.

Chapter Text

Wei Yixiang waited for her punishment to come.

But the thing is.

Nothing came.

She filled her days with training, night hunts, assisting Yunmeng-Jiang disciples, helping townsfolk, and occasionally teaming up with rogue cultivators or disciples from other sects. When she wasn’t out, she spent time with her siblings—often accompanying Jiang Yanli in the kitchen, helping to prepare meals while Wei Ying pestered them with absurd food combinations.

Leaning against the tree, she watched the disciples as Jiang Lin led their drills. As the current Head Disciple of Yunmeng-Jiang, Lin bore that role with diligence, even though Yixiang knew she longed to retire. But because Yixiang had rejected the title, Jiang Lin was forced to continue.

Yixiang sighed.

"You’re doing it wrong,” Yixiang called out to a nearby disciple. “Straighten your back, you’ll injure yourself like that."

The disciple flinched and awkwardly corrected his posture, then resumed swinging the training sword.

"Start slow." She added, watching him begin his forms. "You’re stumbling over your footing. No point in speed if your foundation is crooked."

The boy nodded, sword moving more slowly now.

"Your footing’s unstable. If it’s hard, slow down and start with control."

He obeyed, adjusting to a slower rhythm.

"What are you trying to hit, the ground?" she snapped when he swung too low.

"S-sorry…"

"Higher."

Another swing.

"Too soft. What are you trying to fight, a pillow?"

The disciple winced.

"Fix your grip. If you hold it like that, you’ll be disarmed in a second."

"Yes, Shijie—"

"Relax your shoulders, why are you so tense?"

The poor disciple was sweating under her intense scrutiny. The others, having observed the impromptu critique, subtly began shifting farther away, hoping to avoid her line of sight.

Yixiang, on the other hand, was seething with a different kind of frustration. But it wasn’t the disciple who truly irritated her.

It was their sudden silence.

Yu Ziyuan and Jiang Fengmian.

After her outburst that night, they said nothing. No apology. Not even an acknowledgment. And that, somehow, stung worse than any punishment could. 

That’s it?

Not a single word? No reflection? Nothing?

Were they reflecting at all?

Many had once wished for silence between the sect leader and the sect madam, to be spared by their countless petty arguments. But not like this. It was a silence soaked in pride. A silence that reeked of wounded egos and emotional avoidance. 

It was driving her mad.

The other disciples grew nervous, caught between the sect madam and the leader’s silence and Wei Yixiang’s mounting irritation. They knew the root of Shijie’s growing irritability. After weeks of restraint, her patience frayed thinner with every passing day, and her tongue sharper than it used to be.

"Are you even thinking? Or are you just swinging that sword like a headless chicken?"

"A-Xiang," Jiang Lin called out, walking over. "Stop bullying that poor disciple."

Yixiang let out a breath. "They’re irritating me."

Lin-jie gave the trembling boy a subtle wave, and he gratefully took the chance to escape. Wei Yixiang watched him flee like he’d been pardoned from execution.

"Who?"

She gave Lin a look. "Who do you think?"

She scratched her neck, rising to her feet. "Their pride is harder to crack than a spiritual barrier."

Jiang Lin smirked. "Well, what you did three months ago was a hell of a show. You were the only one bold enough to speak like that. And surprisingly, you weren’t banished."

Yixiang groaned. "I was honestly expecting that."

"Well, if I were them, I wouldn’t banish a disciple with your achievements either. You’re a genius, respected by disciples, praised by the people, and you’ve caught the attention of other sects. Banishing you would mean losing two talents to other sects," she paused, "or to waste, because your brother would surely follow you."

Yixiang visibly cringed, making Jiang Lin laugh.

It was true—her name had begun to spread. Word of her skill, kindness to the common folk, and achievements during night-hunts, as well as her occasional aid to disciples from other sects, hadn’t gone unnoticed. She had unintentionally made herself known.

Worse, she even received numerous marriage proposals.

Marriage Proposal!

Countless.

Horrifying number of marriage proposals.

Each one brought horror through her whole system. And without a second thought, she refused all of them. Gladly, the elders didn’t object. After all, they had long agreed that she and her brother had the right to decide their futures.

But even if they tried to force her, she wouldn’t hesitate to walk away from the sect, with A-Ying at her side. She would never submit to a loveless marriage. She’d rather die than be someone’s obedient little ornament.

"Are you going on a night hunt later?" Jiang Lin asked.

Yixiang paused, then shook her head. "I promised to help my brother with whatever talismans he’s inventing again." She sighed. "That kid’s brain is an endless pit of strange ideas."

Jiang Lin chuckled. "Fucking geniuses."

Suddenly, a disciple ran up to them, breathless.

"L-Lin-jie! Xiang-jie!"

The two exchanged a glance before Jiang Lin stepped forward.

"There... There are Lan cultivators in the receiving hall. You’ve been summoned... both of you..."

Yixiang patted the disciple’s back and handed him a water bottle. "Thanks. You can go rest now."

Then she turned to Jiang Lin. "Did we somehow mess up with the Lan Sect?"

Jiang Lin shook her head. "Not that I know of."

Together, they walked to the Receiving Hall. The two talked while trying to guess why the Lan cultivators are here and why they are being summoned.

"Maybe another marriage proposal?"

Horrified, Yixiang immediately turned her head towards the head disciple. “Lin-Jie. That better be not." She quickened her pace and gritted her teeth while Jiang Lin laughed behind her.

As they reached the receiving hall, Jiang Lin was the one who knocked. Yixiang, with her arms crossed, stared blankly at the door while waiting. When they were called in, both bowed respectfully, and Yixiang immediately recognized some of the Lan disciples, they were familiar faces from her recent night hunt.

But her eyes were drawn to one figure in particular.

Lan Xichen.

He had helped exorcise that powerful spirit with a Nie cultivator and several others a few months back.

“A-Xiang, come here.” Jiang Fengmian called.

She hesitated, confused, but approached respectfully. “I didn’t cause trouble again, did I?” She asked, despite the horror of being offered another marriage proposal.

Lan Xichen smiled gently. “You’re not in trouble, Wei-guniang,” he assured her. “We’re only here to extend an invitation.” He held out a scroll.

Yixiang eyed it warily.

“Don’t worry,” Jiang Fengmian said dryly, “it’s not a marriage proposal.”

She glared at him. “Uncle Jiang,” she hissed, mortified, as several Lan cultivators looked on in awkward confusion.

He only smiled and gestured for her to take it. So with a heavy heart, she gently took the scroll from Lan Xichen's hand.

Jiang Zongzhu,

I hope this message finds you well.

Upon hearing recent accounts regarding a certain disciple in your sect, whom we now understand to be your ward. The Gusu Lan Sect would like to formally extend an invitation to your disciple Wei Yixiang to attend our Guest Lecture at the Cloud Recesses.

This invitation is extended in thanks for her notable support and assistance to our disciples during recent night hunts. Initially, we were unaware of her affiliation, but now that it is clear, we believe it is proper to extend this formally through your sect.

Please feel free to decide who may accompany her, within limited numbers.

Sincerely,

Acting Sect Leader of Gusu Lan.

Yixiang blinked at the letter. Looked at Xichen. Then to Jiang Fengmian.

Huh?

Cloud Recesses. Known not only for its strict rules but also for its vast library and scholarly prestige. Their Guest Lecture was an annual tradition—a rare opportunity for disciples from other sects to train, study, and access sacred texts.

“This letter was meant for you, Uncle Jiang,” she said finally. “Shouldn’t you be the one answering this?” She added, baffled.

“I am considering accepting,” Jiang Fengmian replied, folding his hands. “But first, I want to hear your thoughts. Would you be willing to attend the Guest Lecture?”

She hesitated, the weight of the opportunity hitting her.

Because honestly, turning this down would be foolish. To learn in Cloud Recesses, not just for cultivation lectures, but also to access the legendary Lan Library. Plus, music cultivation was something she’d been wanting to learn.

"I see no problem in going, Uncle Jiang." She finally replied.

Lan Xichen smiled warmly. "Then we’ll leave it in your hands, Jiang-zongzhu." He bowed. "Thank you for receiving us. We will take our leave now."

Fengmian bowed in return. “Thank you, First Young Master Lan.”

Yixiang and the disciples followed suit. As Lan Xichen and his group turned to leave, Jiang Fengmian turned to Jiang Lin.

“A-Lin, please escort our guests.” Jiang Lin bowed.

Silence settled over the receiving hall as the disciples filed out one by one. Slowly, Wei Yixiang looked up at Jiang Fengmian, who stood tense and unmoving.

"Uncle Jiang."

Don’t think I’ve forgotten, she thought grimly.

"What is it, A-Xiang?" the sect leader asked with practiced calm.

What’s with this silence? She bit her tongue to keep from saying it aloud.

With a quiet sigh, she stepped forward and bowed before him. "Please allow Yanli to accompany me to the Guest Lecture."

Jiang Fengmian blinked, clearly surprised by the request.

"Why? A-Li is not a cultivator, A-Xiang."

"What do you mean, Uncle Jiang? A-Li has a golden core. Perhaps not the strongest, but it still makes her a cultivator." She paused, then said firmly, "By sending me alone without your daughter, you won’t just stoke Madam Yu’s already boiling nerves, but also fuel the absurd rumors circling the cultivation world."

Rumors. Baseless gossip. She knew all about them. Despite being just a ward, and despite the Lan Sect’s kind intentions in inviting her to their guest lecture, to the dorks of Jianghu, it would look like something else entirely.

There is no way she's going to put up with that.

"But you must understand—"

"I’m sorry to interrupt, Uncle Jiang, but I hope you understand this, too. By excluding A-Li, you’re making it appear as though you favor your wards over your own children. And in doing so, you're feeding into those vile rumors that Wei Ying and I are the bastard children of some servant or whore. That is not true." Her voice was even, but her gaze burned. "We are the children of respected cultivators. Wei Changze, former head disciple of Yunmeng Jiang, and Changse Sanren, direct disciple of the immortal Baoshan Sanren."

"A-Xiang..." He began, softer now, "...I understand your point. But it’s dangerous for A-Li. The Gusu Lan extended the invitation specifically to you."

"And that’s exactly why this is a good opportunity for A-Li." She stepped back, eyes unwavering. "Do you even realize how hard she’s been working to improve her cultivation? Let her learn. Let her see the world beyond the walls of this sect." She drew herself up, proud and unyielding. "I will ensure her safety."

The whole situation grated on her nerves. It made her feel like some spoiled child begging for a favor she hadn’t earned. She lowered her gaze slightly and bowed again.

Wei Yixiang dipped her head in a restrained bow. "I trust that Uncle Jiang will consider this carefully. I'll take my leave now.” Without waiting for a reply, Wei Yixiang turned and left the hall.

Turning left, she saw Yanli walking with Jiang Cheng and Wei Ying. The two were bickering again, and the girl was smiling at their usual antics.

"A-Li, A-Cheng, A-Ying." She called for their attention.

The three stopped, and Wei Ying jumped towards her. Taken by surprise, Wei Yixiang didn't get to brace herself, and the two often fell. Jiang Yanli gasped while Jiang Cheng shouted at Wei Ying.

"Hey! You idiot!" Cheng grabbed Wei Ying by his collar and pulled him upward.

The latter only laughed and scratched his neck.

"Sorry, Jie." 

She sighed and pinched his ear.

"Aw! Aw! Jiee!" 

"What did I say about jumping to people?" 

With Jiang Cheng's help, she was back on her feet. Jiang Yanli checked on her too while Wei Ying pouted, rubbing his now red ear.

"Are you okay, Jie?" She smiled and nodded to Jiang Yanli.

"I am." Turning her heels, she started walking. "Come with me, you three."

The trio looked at each other before following her. Wei Ying slightly quickened his pace to match his sister, his playful demeanor now gone after seeing how serious his elder sister is. The two Jiang siblings, on the other hand, followed closely behind.

Their Jie is not always as serious as this, so it made them feel unsettled... Worried.

Especially, after what happened last time. 

Pushing the door of her quarters open, she let them in first before closing the door and following behind. Wei Ying and Jiang Cheng set the table while Yanli went outside, excusing herself to get tea for them.

The two boys remained silent, even after Jiang Yanli came back with tea. Their eyes were curiously looking at Yixiang, openly. They did not even look away or hide their staring.

With a sigh, Wei Yixiang put down the teacup.

"The Gusu-Lan has sent a Guest Lecture Invitation for me." There was a stunned silence for a moment before Yanli broke into a smile.

"I'm happy for you, Jie."

"Wait! Guest Lecture?! Really?!" The two boys exclaimed excitedly. 

"Yes. Which means, if Uncle Jiang accepts it, I'll be absent here for a long time." The excitement of the two boys faltered then, and Wei Ying pouted. "A-Li is also coming with me."

"Huh?" Yanli shot her eyes up, surprised.

"A-Jie too?" Jiang Cheng asked again, probably to confirm.

Wei Yixiang nodded. Even though Jiang Fengmian didn't give her an answer right away, she knew he would make Yanli go with her. After all, his lack of backbone to face his wife's anger would make him think that making Yanli go away would avoid her.

"Yes, that's why, you two will be left here." She pointed towards Jiang Cheng and Wei Ying. "I forgot to ask when we are departing, but I will have Yanli and I prepare early while Uncle Jiang picks out the there's disciples who will come with us." 

"Then... How long will the two of you stay there?" Wei Ying anxiously asked.

"Six months long." Seeing his growing anxiety, she gently pulled her brother beside her. "We'll be there to learn and study, and you two will stay here." She also pulled Jiang Cheng. "I want the two of you to take care of each other and don't fight, if you do, make up, okay?"

With the two boys on either side, she had Yanli sit closer to her.

"A-Cheng, A-Ying," she began softly, "listen closely. I won’t say this again." When the boys nodded, she smiled faintly. "Don’t listen to whatever the others say, not even Madam Jiang. Don’t let their venomous words twist your hearts or poison the bond you've built. Brotherhood isn’t just blood, it’s trust, and the two of you have earned that with each other."

She gently cupped their faces, her hands warm and firm. "Look out for each other. And don’t forget to take care of yourself, especially you, A-Ying." The boy mentioned, pouted slightly, but nodded after.

With a sigh, she spoke again. "Your heroism won’t help if it gets you killed, A-Ying. It’s noble to help others, yes—but helping doesn’t always mean charging ahead. Think first. Let yourself rest. You don’t have to be everyone’s savior to be worthy of love."

Her voice softened with the last sentence. Because you’re already loved, she added silently.

"You always laugh the loudest, but I know you carry the heaviest burdens in silence." Yixiang met her brother’s eyes. "It’s okay to give, but not too much. Don’t believe you’re the only one who has to take the blows meant for others because one day, your body won’t move fast enough, and your smile won’t be enough to hide the ache you feel."

She paused, her fingers tightening briefly.

"You think strength means shielding everyone with a grin. But true strength, A-Ying, is allowing yourself to be seen, even in weakness." She pursed her lips, " So it’s okay to cry sometimes... to be weak, to fail. That's why you don’t have to be ashamed of acting like a human being. You're not made of steel, you're not a sword, not a shield—you’re human." She kissed his forehead.

Then she turned to Jiang Cheng, her voice quieter but no less steady.

"And you, A-Cheng… you are strong, stronger than you realize. But strength isn’t the same as harshness. Between you two, you’re the most impatient. You carry a fire in your chest, and when you don’t know where to place it, it burns those closest to you. But remember, you are not your mother, and you are not your father."

She leaned closer, her words softer now, meant only for the boy who always looked like he was bracing himself for the harshness that may come.

"You are your own person, A-Cheng. You are allowed to feel, to falter, to be angry—without hating yourself. You don’t have to match them because they're your parents. You only have to find your own shape—and not depend on what they say."

She kissed his forehead too, before pulling back just enough to see them both.

"The world will try to pull you in different directions. It will feed you lies, twist your fears. But remember this, no one in this world will ever understand you the way the other does. Not even me. Not even A-Li." She smiled faintly, "Whatever happens, don’t forget each other. Protect each other—and don’t let pride or guilt get in the way. If you lose each other, you’ll lose more than you know...

...but I hope, while protecting each other, you two won't forget yourselves. Don’t overgive. Think rationally. The other is important—but so are you. I and A-Li can’t lose either of you, okay?" she asked softly.

It made her feel like they’d be gone forever, with how heavy her words weighed. But who knows what could happen in six months? She just wanted them to remember—selflessness is good, but it’s okay to be selfish sometimes, too. If the time came, she hoped they’d know how to understand and talk to each other. 

She didn’t want them to lose themselves.

And she certainly wouldn't risk it.

When she looked closely at the boys, they blinked. Wei Ying stared into the distance, and Jiang Cheng’s fist was clenched.

With a soft sigh, she pulled them both into a hug.

"You two will be fine, right? Without Hui-jie and Li-jie?" She murmured. "Promise?"

"Promise, Jie..." They mumbled in unison.

Stepping back, she gently patted Yanli, giving her a moment to speak with the boys.

The girl comforted them despite the suddenness of the news that she would be leaving too. Still, she composed herself and gave them a firm lecture. Yixiang, on the other hand, listened with a small smile.

"Don’t cause too much trouble, okay?" Yanli warned.

The other boy giggled while the other scoffed.

"Say that to him," Jiang Cheng pointed to Wei Ying, who immediately stepped back in mock offense. "See?" He turned to look back at his sister.

Wei Ying isn't about to let himself get accused like that, so he argued.

"A-Ying is a good boy!" 

"Why don’t you two do us a favor and ask the kitchen to prepare food for us?" Yixiang suddenly asked them to stop bickering.

There was a small pause. The two looked at each other before bolting off. Jiang Cheng shouted after Wei Ying, who, in return, only laughed. Seems like it was a bad idea after all.

Turning back to Yanli, Yixiang smiled. "A-Li," she called softly, sitting beside her again.

"Hui-jie..." Seeing Yanli’s worried look, she patted her head.

"Are you worried?"

"A-Are you really sure I’m coming with you?" Yanli looked down, fidgeting, a rare vulnerability only Yixiang had ever seen.

"Yes, you are."

"But... I’m not even a cultivator... and I don’t have a sword yet," she mumbled. "Is it… Mother?"

Yixiang smiled, taking her hand and placing it on her lap.

"Kind of—but let’s think outside the picture." She gently lifted Yanli’s chin. "It’s an opportunity for you to learn, too, A-Li. I don’t believe you were born just to be caged within the walls of a sect, waiting to be married off into a life decided when you were a child." She paused and sighed, placing a palm over Yanli’s dantian. "And what is this core for, if you’re not a cultivator? Sure, it’s small and weak—but it’s still there. It still makes you one. You don’t need to fight on a battlefield. You’ll be great in many other ways. And maybe... maybe you’ll find something to dedicate yourself to—something truly yours, not just what you grew up with in Lotus Pier."

She patted her shoulder gently.

"It’s time to explore, Yanli."

Yanli blinked, processing her words. Yixiang, as always, patiently waited for her. Then finally, Yanli smiled—her shoulders relaxing. Yixiang pulled her into a hug and kissed her forehead.

"If you’re worried about the boys, I’ll ask Lin-jie to look after them. It’s her duty as Head Disciple, anyway." 

The two giggled. 

"But I want you to think of yourself. Your happiness, A-Li. Not your mother’s. Not your father’s. Not mine. Not those two troublemakers. Just yours." She smiled. "Okay?"

"Okay, Jie."

Not long after, the boys came back in, trays in hand, bickering about something again.

"Stop arguing," Yixiang immediately scolded them. "If you drop that food, I’ll make you kowtow to whoever cooked it."

The two immediately fell silent.

Later that night, Jiang Yanli left with Jiang Cheng. It had been Yixiang’s idea—they needed time alone, just the two of them. She hoped it would give them space to breathe, to talk not as disciples or heirs, but simply as siblings. She knew there were things only they could understand about each other, burdens no one else could fully share. 

As she watched them walk away, Yixiang felt a quiet reassurance settle in her chest. She knows they needed this moment just as much as she and Wei Ying did.

Speaking of Wei Ying, he was now excitedly pulling out a large sack of talismans—much more than the last time she remembered.

Blinking at him, bewildered, she muttered, "I don’t really know how your brain works sometimes."

Wei Ying just grinned.

"You don’t understand, Jie! I have to take notes on all of them so I won't forget!" he said dramatically.

She stared at him, unimpressed, but she leaned closer.

"Look! This one’s a compass that points to resentful energy! It’ll be super useful—especially during night hunts!" He eagerly shoved his notes in her face, and she barely resisted the urge to smack the back of his head.

With a long breath, she accepted the notes and began reading through them. His handwriting was just as messy as she remembered. Half-formed characters are trailing into one another, ink smudged in places, margins crowded with quick, frantic sketches and diagrams bled into spell arrays, annotations spiraled around corners, as well as stray brushstrokes hinted at ideas abandoned mid-thought. 

It was a mess by any standard, the kind of page that would give any teacher a headache—but to her, it was unmistakably her brother's. Every errant line was brimming with his restless energy, his eagerness, and the whirlwind of thoughts he always tried to pin down faster than his hand could keep up.

And the funny thing is, despite the disarray, she understood it. 

Years of growing up with him had trained her eyes to decipher his chaotic handwriting. She knew which arrows meant "rework this later," which scribbles were his mental shortcuts, and which overlapping notes were breakthroughs mid-sketch. She could trace his thought process even in this kind of mess, following the leaps of logic most people would find incomprehensible. It was a language all his own, and one she had learned to read like second nature. 

That's why Yixiang didn’t complain. Instead, she let her fingers rest briefly on the paper, her expression softening as she flipped through the pages, seeing not just theories and arrays, but her brother's passion poured into every line.

She's beyond proud of him.

"I assume this isn’t polished yet?" she asked.

Her little brother eagerly nodded.

"I’m still figuring it out! What’s written is just ideas, I’m not sure how I’ll make it work." Wei Ying played with his brush, eyes wandering the room. Probably thinking of more.

"You should continue this. Take your time. Don’t push yourself too hard," she said gently, setting the notes down.

Wei Ying pouted. "Madam Yu and Uncle Jiang don’t even want me doing things like this."

Yixiang’s expression immediately darkened.

"Don’t mind them. Just do what you want to do," she told him firmly. "If you need brushes, ink, talisman paper—tell me. I’ll get them for you. Just don’t go showing your work to people carelessly, okay?"

Wei Ying saluted. "Noted, Jie."

She stayed silent for a few moments, lost in thought, until Wei Ying—unable to sit still any longer—looked up at her.

“What’s wrong, Jie?” he asked softly, abandoning his talismans as he scooted closer. He placed a hand on her lap, gently resting his forehead against her knee.

Without a word, she lifted her hand and placed it on top of his head.

“When something’s wrong, you’ll tell Jie, right?” she murmured. 

Wei Ying tilted his head and looked up at her, nodding.

“I’m worried,” she admitted gently, “but when I arrive at Cloud Recesses, write to me, alright? Tell me everything about your day, your inventions, anything you want to share. Jie will always write back.” She leaned down and pressed a kiss to his head.

“I will, Jie. Please take care of yourself out there,” he whispered as he snuggled closer.

If you asked him, Wei Ying's safest place wasn’t a room, a talisman, or even a sword—it was his sister’s arms. He could still remember, as clearly as yesterday, how she would hold him when he was scared, wrapping him in warmth and pressing a gentle kiss to his temple.

It was familiar. Comforting. 

He never knew when she picked up the habit of hugging him like that or always kissing his temple, but he never questioned it. Never mind. He didn’t care if she babied him in front of others. As long as he had his Jie by his side, he’d be content.

Well… A-Cheng and Li-Jie, too, he added in his thoughts with a small smile.

“I will. So you take care of yourself, too.”

A quiet peace settled over Yixiang’s quarters. The two of them sat there, wrapped in a silence that wasn’t heavy or sad, but steady and warm—a silence that spoke louder than words, reminding them they would always have each other, no matter where they were. 

In that quiet moment, it wasn’t just Yixiang who silently vowed to protect her little brother with everything she had.

Wei Ying, too, made a promise in his heart—that when he is already capable of doing so, he would protect everything his sister has, and that includes himself, A-Cheng, and Li-Jie. He would keep them safe, so she wouldn’t have to carry the weight alone.

So she wouldn't worry.

So she wouldn't cry.

And most of all, he would make sure his Jie would be happy, because no one deserved it more than her.

Chapter Text

Wei Yixiang spent her days training and spending time with her siblings, rarely leaving the Lotus Pier unless she was needed in a night hunt. The other disciples, on the other hand, would often flock around her, but not until she started overseeing their training and teaching them herself.

Well. Teaching might have been the generous word.

Because,

she was harsh. 

Uncompromising. 

Even with her two younger brothers.

“Jie!” Wei Ying whined as he hit the ground for the fifth time, clutching his shoulder in theatrical agony.

Raising an eyebrow, Yixiang calmly set her wooden sword aside, placing it down with care. Then, with slow, measured steps, she approached her brother. Wei Ying panicked, eyes widening. In a flash, he scrambled to his feet and darted behind Jiang Cheng, who stiffened in surprise.

“Hey! Dumbass, let go!” Jiang Cheng snapped, trying to shove him off.

“What are you two doing now?” Yixiang asked with the weary patience of someone who already knew the answer.

“You’re at it again!” Wei Ying cried.

“Because you never listen!” She snapped, clearly annoyed.

She took another step forward.

The boys instantly stepped back.

The disciples nearby, sensing danger, did the same, until Yixiang’s gaze swept over them. They all averted their eyes, looking around while whistling as they hurriedly returned to their drills. 

No one even dared to laugh.

Secretly, they were grateful she had never accepted the Head Disciple position.

Bless your soul, Lin-jie. Some thought.

“Jie!” The two brothers yelped in unison when she delivered a swift, perfectly controlled kick to them.

She sighed, exasperation slipping through the cracks of her composure.

That was when Jiang Yanli arrived, the scent of steamed buns and sweet osmanthus following her. She carried a tray of snacks, her gentle smile softening the tension in the air.

The boys’ faces lit up, until Yixiang’s sharp gaze froze them mid-step. 

She turned to the younger girl. "You’re spoiling them, A-Li," Yixiang muttered, as if she hadn’t done the same countless times herself.

The girl only smiled. Before calling the boys over, Yanli glanced at Yixiang for silent permission. He went silent for a few seconds, then glanced at the boys. Both Wei Ying and Jiang Cheng were staring at her with exaggerated, hopeful expressions.

And she felt her eye twitch.

With a sigh, she waved her hand dismissively, and they immediately scrambled to Yanli’s side. Quickly showering the other with praises and sweet words.

“You’re the best, A-Jie!”

“Mn! Li-Jie always brings the yummiest snacks!”

Yixiang picked up the training swords they had abandoned and set them neatly aside before sitting beside Yanli.

“Don’t fall for their sweet talk. They used to say that to anyone who fed them." She said, settling beside Yanli and narrowing her eyes at the boys.

“Jie, you’re just jealous—ack!” Wei Ying yelped as she smacked the back of his head.

“Who’s jealous?” She flatly asked.

Yanli giggled, picking up a steamed bun and offering it to her. Yixian slowly relaxed and accepted it, mumbling a quiet “Thanks,” as she took a bite of the bread.

“Jie! You’re becoming violent! This is child abuse!” Wei Ying cried dramatically, staggering backward as though wounded

Jiang Cheng, who is wise enough to know how to stay silent when Xiang-Jie's temper is boiling, focused on his food while the other boy listened to Xiang-Jie's bullying.

“Child abuse?” Yixiang’s tone dropped dangerously. “Want to see what child abuse looks like?”

Wei Ying frantically shook his head. “Nope! I’m good!”

“Idiot." Jiang Cheng muttered.

Offended, Wei Ying turned to him. “How flattering, Chengcheng!”

“Don’t call me that!” Jiang Cheng barked.

“Oh? Are you a dog now—aw!”

“That’s enough,” Yanli said firmly, sliding cookies across the tray toward them.

Yixiang fell into a peaceful silence, letting her brothers’ endless bickering fade into background noise. She ate the steamed bun in her hand slowly, savoring the faint sweetness while her gaze handered over the training field.

Disciples moved in neat rows, blades flashing under the late-morning light. The steady rhythm of sword forms filled the air. Step, slash, turn, breathe. A few broke into sparring pairs, the muted clack of wooden swords mingling with the distant calls of gulls over the water.

Then her eyes caught a small mishap.

One disciple, too focused on his footwork, failed to notice the uneven ground. His boot caught on a loose stone, and he pitched forward with an undignified stumble. He caught himself before falling, straightened hastily, and immediately glanced around in panic, searching for witnesses.

Unlucky for him, his gaze met hers.

The poor boy froze. Color rushed to his cheeks. In a flurry of flustered motion, he bent in a clumsy bow before scurrying back to his position, now moving with exaggerated precision as if to erase the memory of the slip.

Yixiang’s lips curved faintly before she forced the expression away. She turned her head, eyes returning to the wider field.

I’ll pretend I didn’t see that.

Meanwhile, Wei Ying and Jiang Cheng bickered without pause in the background, their voices rising and falling like an off-key duet. Yanli only laughed softly, stepping in now and then to gently scold them, her tone more amused than stern.

“Come to think of it,” Wei Ying said suddenly, “Isn’t it weird how we both call them Jie?”

This caught her attention.

Yixiang frowned and glanced over.

“What nonsense are you on about now?” Jiang Cheng asked, crumbs on his mouth.

“I mean, you call A-Jie ‘A-Jie,’ and I call Jie… well, ‘Jie.’ But they’re both Jies. Isn’t that confusing?”

Yixiang fought back the urge to smack her brother on the head. His penmanship wasn’t the only thing messy—his explanations, when spoken aloud, were somehow even more tangled than his scribbled talisman and array notes.

“See? Even you’re confused!” Wei Ying pointed.

Yanli, ever the mediator, offered gently. "Then… shouldn’t we call Xiang-jie, Dajie instead?”

Yixiang said nothing, choosing to listen to where their conversation would go.

“Oh. I think I heard a disciple call her Dajie before,” Jiang Cheng said, this time without his usual bite. “Then A-Jie stays as A-Jie.”

Amused, Yixiang hid a small smile behind her water cup.

It was true. Some of the younger disciples had started calling her Dajie. Occasionally, they used shijie, but with so many senior sisters in the sect, the title felt diluted. Dajie, they said… felt more hers.

Yixiang was sitting in the lotus pond, brush in hand, the tip scratching softly against paper as she jotted down notes. The air was thick with the scent of lotus blooms, and the gentle rippling of water played beneath the rustle of leaves overhead.

Suddenly, a flurry of footsteps broke her focus. One of the younger disciples came running toward her, cheeks flushed, eyes alight. It was the one who always pushed through her grueling drills without complaint, who met every setback with the same determined smile. Yixiang had long admired that quiet perseverance.

“Dajie!” The girl called brightly.

Yixiang paused, lifting her head in faint surprise. “Dajie?” She asked, baffled.

“Yes! Dajie!” The disciple beamed.

Since that day, the title stuck. One by one, more of the younger disciples began to call her Dajie, until it seemed to follow her everywhere in the training grounds and halls. Even Jiang Lin had teased her about it once, smirking as she passed by.

At first, it puzzled her. She had never asked for such a name, nor had she done anything she thought warranted it. But Yixiang never corrected them. She wasn’t particular about titles or nicknames, and Dajie carried a warmth that Shijie did not.

If anything, she felt quietly honored. 

It was because in a place where respect was often bound to rank or skill, Dajie felt like something else entirely—a bond. And it means she was successful in forming that bond with the disciples in Yunmeng-Jiang.

"Then it’s settled!” Wei Ying declared grandly. “Jie is Dajie, and Li-Jie is A-Jie!"

Finally, she chuckled.

“You three sound like you’re plotting a war." She said, which she instantly regretted.

“A war?” Wei Ying gasped. “Where? Why?! I’m not ready!”

And... the whining starts.

Later that afternoon, she was summoned to Jiang Fengmian’s office.

The message nearly made her raise an eyebrow. Both the Sect Leader and Madam Yu had been quietly avoiding her for days now. It was amusing, in a way—almost funny. But more than that, it was irritating.

Still, she didn’t show it.

Offering a small bow to the disciple who delivered the message, she thanked him before turning on her heel and making her way toward the sect leader’s quarters.

“Uncle Jiang?” She called, knocking on the door.

Inside, Jiang Fengmian was seated behind his desk, quietly reviewing a stack of papers. At the sound of her voice, he slowly set his brush down and looked toward the door.

“Come in, A-Xiang.”

Without hesitation, Yixiang pushed the door open and stepped inside. Closing the door behind her, she walked toward the desk and stood before him, bowing respectfully with both hands clasped in front of her.

“Sect Leader Jiang.”

He sighed softly. “No need for that, A-Xiang.”

At his words, Yixiang straightened her back.

“Do you know why I called you here?” He asked.

“No, Uncle Jiang." She replied honestly.

“It’s about the Guest Lecture.” His tone shifted slightly, drawing her full attention. "A-Li will be going with you." He paused, “Next week, the two of you, along with the ten disciples I’ve personally selected, will depart.”

Jiang Fengmian picked up a sheet of paper from his desk and slid it across to her. She stepped forward and picked it up without a word, silently scanning the names written down on the paper. Each disciple was familiar to her. Ones that she knows are capable, bright, well-trained, and reliable.

“I’m putting you in charge of them,” Jiang Fengmian said. “If you have time before the departure, gather the group and begin preparations. The Yunmeng Jiang disciples hold you in high regard and acknowledge your authority, so I have no doubts they’ll follow your lead.”

“I’m putting you in charge of them,” Jiang Fengmian continued. “If you have the time, begin gathering them and prepare. The Yunmeng Jiang disciples hold you in high regard and acknowledge your leadership. That's why I have no doubts that they’ll follow your lead."

Because they know I’ll kick their asses if they don't, she thought.

“Make sure A-Li is informed and prepared as well.” A faint smile touched his lips before he returned his attention to the papers on his desk. “That is all. You’re dismissed.”

“I understand, Uncle Jiang.”

She bowed once more before turning around and exiting the office, her mind already calculating the time and the things that needed to be done before the day of their departure.

First things first... I should probably find these disciples and inform them.

Days passed quickly. Jiang Yanli’s belongings as well as her own had long been prepared, so she spent her time informing the disciples listed in the paper, explaining what they would need and, just as importantly, what they were forbidden to bring.

Yixiang also busied herself in gathering information about the Cloud Recesses and their Guest Lectures. And one of the things she found was that the Lan Clan’s infamous rules were no exaggeration. It was nearly three thousand in number, and she snorted upon reading some of them, finding certain restrictions absurd, but she kept her thoughts to herself. Instead, she committed every detail to memory, then gathered the ten disciples and lectured them on things that they should be aware of.

Because if they were going to Gusu, she wanted them to at least leave with their dignity intact.

She is also not going to spend her time listening to Yu Ziyuan's hours of nagging.

She can no longer endure that.

Jiang Fengmian had also begun preparing a formal gift for the Lan Clan. And to Yixiang’s quiet surprise, the sect leader even asked for her opinion, which took her two days to think before returning to his office with her answer.

“Uncle Jiang,” she began, standing straight, “as far as I know, the Gusu Lan value arts and have a great love for tea. Why not offer something both essential and fitting to their taste? Perhaps a fine tea set, high-quality brushes and ink, and as well as fine papers.”

Jiang Fengmian paused, then nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Thank you, A-Xiang." He smiled, "I’ll have the disciples prepare it.”

“It is no problem, Uncle Jiang." She politely replied.

A brief silence settled between them before she spoke again.

“Uncle Jiang.”

He looked up with a small smile touching his lips, his gaze kind and gentle. 

Taking a breath, Yixiang continued. “Would you mind if I asked you for a favor?”

The man stopped and placed his hand on the table, his expression considerate. “What is it, A-Xiang?” He calmly asked.

With a determined expression, she answered. “Please… in our stay in Cloud Recesses, do not allow any harm to fall upon my brothers.”

Surprise flickered in his eyes.

“I admire your kindness, Uncle Jiang,” she continued, “Butt I hope you will also have the courage to protect them from the harm others may inflict out of personal interest… or, to be plain, abuse.”

“A-Xiang…”

She did not elaborate on things, but she knew he understood well enough where her words pointed. If he chose to turn a blind eye rather than do what was right, she wouldn't hesitate to choose hell.

“I want to find something more to admire in you—beyond your kindness, I hope to see the courage that comes from you, Uncle Jiang.” Yixiang didn't back down and kept her gaze steady.

Jiang Fengmian stilled, but his eyes softened. Letting out a soft breath, he allowed a small smile to form, though her words left a faint sting. It wasn’t simply because she had noticed his hesitation before, it was because, deep down, he knew his own children might have felt the same. 

After collecting himself, Jiang Fengmian gave her a small, resolute smile. “Alright.” He said, rising from his seat. He stepped forward and laid a steady hand on her shoulder. “Do not worry. I will take care of them, A-Xiang.”

“Thank you, Uncle Jiang.” She returned the smile, softer now. “This one will take her leave.”

He nodded and watched her go, the door closing quietly behind her. Once again, silence settled in the office. A cool breeze slipped in through the open window, stirring the curtains so they swayed gently. Jiang Fengmian stood for a long moment, then he slowly returned to his desk, his mind lingering on his ward's words.

“Dajieeeeee!!!”

The disciples standing behind Yixiang immediately looked down, biting back their laughter as Wei Ying launched himself dramatically at his sister.

“A-Ying." She sighed, catching him with practiced ease.

“I’ll miss you, Dajieee!” Wei Ying wailed, clutching her as though she were heading into exile rather than a scholarly trip.

Yixiang’s arms closed around him, her hand coming up to pat his back in slow, steady motions. To tell the truth, this would be the first time they’d be apart for so long. Usually, she left him only for a few days at most when she went on night hunts. But six months in Gusu… that was another story entirely.

So, just for today, she decided to indulge her brother.

“I’ll write to you." She promised. “And you’d better write back to me too.”

Her brother's arms tightened around her. Outwardly, he wore his usual playful expression, but Yixiang could feel the reluctance behind it. She knows he didn’t want her or Yanli to go. Still, he nodded, and silently comforted himself.

It’s okay, A-Ying. Chengcheng is here.

Yixiang leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to his temple, and Wei Ying's smile brightened instantly. He had always liked that habit of his, Jie, though he was curious, he never asked why she always did it. It was simply… comforting. Something only his Jie will do, and he will never complain about it.

Pulling back, Yixiang reached over and dragged Jiang Cheng into her embrace. The younger boy stiffened in surprise but didn’t resist. His eyes fluttered shut when she kissed his temple, too, and he returned the hug quietly.

The disciples watching them couldn’t help but smile. Yixiang was infamous for her strictness and way of disciplining the disciples during training, but no one could deny that she is a kind and calm woman, too. They are also aware of how affectionate she is to her siblings, and they knew she would do anything—by any means—to keep them safe and happy.

Without her, this household would surely be chaotic and even more problematic. After all, she was their strongest pillar. They couldn’t even imagine what might happen if she didn't come with Jiang Fengmian when they took her and Wei Ying off the street because only she has the courage to shield not just her siblings but the other disciples from hurtful words and harm that others might inflict. 

A Lotus Pier without Wei Yixiang is something they do not wish.

Because of Yixiang, Jiang Yanli was more confident. She had learned to speak up, gently but firmly, when people wronged her or her siblings. And last, Yanli has learned to only give what was given to her. She no longer carried burdens alone, knowing Yixiang would always be there and help lift them. 

Jiang Cheng, too, had changed. He was kinder, more even-tempered. Confident but not arrogant. The boy no longer compared himself to Wei Ying as he once did, knowing his worth and trusting his efforts. Failure also no longer scared him, by any chance, it motivated him. And perhaps most tellingly, he was no longer afraid to accept help, both physical and emotional. Even he, himself, had learned how to comfort someone, all because of his Dajie’s influence.

And Wei Ying…well, he was still mischievous. He's still the same in many ways, but more open. He knew when to ask for help and when to stop before pushing himself into danger. He not only understood his limits, but he also understood that helping others doesn't always need to end up with him, sacrificing his own life. Lastly, he had learned to explain his choices more openly, and while he still attempted the impossible, he often did so under her watchful eye.

Patting both boys on the back, Yixiang said, “You too, A-Cheng. I want you to write me letters as well." She pulled out from the hug, "Both of you should give me and Yanli separate letters. Tell us everything. Your days, your training, anything you can and want to share, understood?”

“Yes, Dajie,” the two replied in unison.

Stepping back, Yixiang let Yanli hug their brothers in turn. Then, with a small smile, she turned to the disciples and instructed them to board the boat. She helped transfer the luggage before facing the sect leader.

Jiang Yanli fell in steps beside her, smiling. Together, they brought their arm forward and bowed.

“Uncle Jiang, we will be taking our leave now.” Yixiang respectfully stated.

Jiang Fengmian smiled warmly and nodded. “Take care on your journey, A-Xiang, A-Li.” Yanli’s expression softened at her father’s words.

And so, with the morning sun spilling over them, the boat slowly departed from Lotus Pier.

It took them three days to arrive at Cloud Recesses. And whenever they were flying, Yixiang would carry Yanli with ease on her sword, much to the astonishment of the disciples. But it wasn’t entirely unexpected—they all knew how strong Yixiang is.

"Am I not heavy, Dajie?" Yanli curiously asked, making her chuckle.

"Not really, you weigh just fine." She answered, "Are you sure you eat properly?" She teased.

At the entrance to Cloud Recesses stood Lan Xichen with four Lan disciples, wearing his usual polite smile. In front of him was the Nie delegation, led by the grumpy Nie Mingjue. Beside him stood another man, someone Yixiang vaguely recognized from before.

It didn’t take long for Lan Xichen to notice their arrival. Abandoning his conversation with Nie Mingjue, he turned toward their group and bowed with a smile.

Yixiang bowed in return, Yanli and the Jiang disciples following suit.

"I am happy that you were able to attend, Wei-guniang." Lan Xichen greeted warmly.

With a small smile, she replied, "It is an honor to attend Gusu-Lan’s guest lecture. Why would we decline such an opportunity, Young Master Lan?"

"It’s you." Nie Mingjue suddenly grumbled.

Yixiang inclined her head politely. "It is good to see you again, Young Master Nie." 

The man beside Nie Mingjue returned her bow with equal politeness. Yixiang studied him for a moment—he seemed older now, but she was certain she had seen him somewhere before. And come to think of it… Wasn’t Nie Mingjue himself familiar too?

Then, after a moment of pondering, it clicked.

Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue watched her with confusion after she became silent. They looked at each other, and Nie Mingjue shrugged while Lan Xichen just tilted his head.

"Oh, it’s you." She blurted out at last.

"Me?" Nie Mingjue asked.

She nodded, then smiled.

"In Yiling, years ago—I think I saw you and him," she said, pointing toward the man beside him. "There was a boy who fell into a hole, and a girl who was trying to reach him but couldn’t lift him out." She carefully recalled the memory, watching their reaction closely.

"A man, who looks exactly like you," she nodded toward Nie Mingjue, "helped the boy up. After the girl thanked you, you told her, ‘Next time, don’t leave your brother alone.’"

Recognition flickered across Nie Mingjue’s face.

"And then, he," she pointed at the man beside him, "called you Young master Nie." She added with a smile.

"It was you," Nie Mingjue confirmed.

Yixiang nodded. "I didn’t realize that man was you until now. I thought you only looked familiar. I never imagined you were the one who helped me and my little brother." She bowed. "I must thank you again for your kindness, Young Master Nie."

Nie Mingjue reached out to stop her from bowing again. "There is no need for that."

"I didn’t know you two had known each other that long," Lan Xichen remarked with a mild surprise.

"I don’t think we truly did, Young Master Lan," Yixiang replied, and they both chuckled.

"Dajie?" Yanli’s voice broke their moment

Turning to her, Yixiang smiled and gently nudged her forward. "This is Uncle—Sect Leader Jiang’s daughter, Jiang Yanli. She’s like a sister to me."

The two young masters politely greeted Yanli, who returned the gesture with a small smile.

"Dajie had mentioned the two of you once to us. It is nice to finally meet you too, Young master Lan and Young master Nie." Yanli softly spoke.

"And to meet you as well, Young Lady Jiang." Lan Xichen replied.

Just then, a group of cultivators in red robes approached, led by a young woman who raised an eyebrow at the sight of the Jiang, Lan, and Nie groups gathered together. Judging by their robes, they were from the Wen Clan.

As they greeted Lan Xichen, Yixiang learned the girl was Wen Qing, niece of Chief Cultivator Wen Ruohan. She seemed younger than Yanli, probably months or a year. Nonetheless, Yixiang bowed politely when they were introduced.

To avoid crowding the entrance, Lan Xichen assigned a disciple to guide each group to their quarters. The Jiang and Nie accommodations were close to each other, and the two delegations exchanged bows before parting ways.

Yixiang even exchanged words with Nie Mingjue and the other man, who is named Nie Zonghui, before parting. 

As they entered their quarters, the relaxing and fresh scent of wood mixed with the cool air drifting in from the window welcomed them. There were two separate rooms and enough space for bathing. Everything was tidy and relaxing, and Yixiang thought to herself that Gusu-Lan was indeed very traditional.

She and Yanli shared a room, which suited her just fine—it meant she could keep a close eye on her sister. As much as she respected the Lan, Yanli was not skilled in combat, and if anyone were to break in, she feared Yanli would be at a disadvantage.

Yixiang carefully unpacked her belongings, smoothing each fold before placing her clothes neatly in the cabinet inside her room. She moved with quiet precision, arranging everything in its proper place as though the order of her things could help her settle into the unfamiliar surroundings.

She smiled to herself, suddenly recalling how Wei Ying would simply toss his clothes into this cabinet if he were in her place. More often than not, she’d have to scold him to fix it, sometimes even helping him straighten the mess. Yet, in the end, her brother would always manage to scatter everything again the moment he started digging through it.

Her hands stilled for a moment. She hoped Wei Ying and Jiang Cheng were doing well, and that Jiang Fengmian would keep the promise he had made.

For now, let’s savour and enjoy our days here in the Cloud Recesses.

But little did she know, the relaxation and peace she anticipated would soon give way to an unexpected kind of chaos—one that, before long, would wea ve itself into their daily routine.

Chapter Text

Hello! This is Philo_Leee :>>

It’s been a week since my last update, and I wanted to give you all a quick note so you won't think that this story was abandoned. With my upcoming exams, I haven’t had much time to write. But don’t worry—this story will not be abandoned! I’m still working on it little by little, and once my exams are over, I’ll upload all the chapters I’ve managed to finish.

When I return to updating, I truly hope you’ll continue to enjoy this fanfic. The chapters are already planned out, I just need to write them slowly to finish it. There’s still a long journey ahead for this fanfic, but I promise it will keep going.

By next month, I should be able to return with new updates.

Thank you so much for your patience and understanding!🫶🏻

Chapter Text

The opening ceremony of the Guest Lecture started, and all of the Guest Disciples rose at Mao Shi; some were forced, or probably most. But no one can blame them. It's way too early, and many are having a hard time adjusting.

The opening ceremony of the Guest Lecture began at Chen Shi, and the disciples were told to rise at Mao Shi. One by one, the Guest Disciples rose to their feet—some willingly, though most looked as if they had been dragged from their beds by sheer obligation. Still, no one could fault them. The hour was painfully early, and many were still struggling to adjust to the new routine.

Honestly, what is with the Lan sect’s schedule?

Yixiang tightened the sash around her waist with deliberate care, securing the final layer of her robe. Today, she had chosen a plain shade of purple—nothing elaborate, nothing ostentatious. For the Guest Lecture, they had been instructed to dress with restraint, in garments simple and proper for study.

"A-Li." She called softly.

Yanli had only just finished dressing when she stepped out, her movements gentle and unhurried. A soft smile curved her lips as she turned to Yixiang, falling into step beside her as they left the quarters together. The faint rustle of their robes echoed lightly against the wooden floor.

As they made their way down the corridor, warm morning light filtered through the windows, curtains dancing through the air. Halfway along the hallway, they crossed paths with the other Jiang disciples, their familiar colors standing out in the dim glow.

“Dajie,” Li Fei greeted her with a bright smile.

The disciples bowed with their arms extended in courtesy. Yixiang exchanged a glance with Yanli before returning the gesture.

“Good morning, Li Fei, and to all of you as well." She said warmly. Her tone softened as she asked, “How was your night?” Together, they began making their way toward the hall where the Guest Lecture was to be held.

“It was nice, Dajie!” One disciple chirped eagerly.

“Did you sleep well, too, Dajie? Young Lady Jiang?” Another asked.

“Do we really need to wake up this early?” Came a third, groaning under his breath.

Yanli chuckled at their complaints, while Yixiang allowed herself a faint, amused smile.

She had expected their complaints—after all, she had warned them about this long before they arrived. Yixiang knew their grumbling was harmless; they would never voice anything outrageous enough to cause real trouble. And if, by chance, they did, she was fully prepared to shoulder the consequences herself.

Morning in the Cloud Recesses was beautiful, the kind of quiet beauty that settled gently rather than dazzled. A faint chill lingered in the air, sharper than what they were used to, though it was not unexpected. This is Gusu Lan’s home, where Winter seemed to linger year-round, as if it were the natural temperament of the Gusu Lan.

She let her eyes wander over the Cloud Recesses, where wooden halls blended seamlessly with the mountain landscape. Perched high upon the mountains, the sect overlooked sweeping valleys drowned in clouds. Mist drifted through the courtyards, and the cold, clean air carried the sharpness of frost. Even footsteps felt muted here, as if the mountain itself asked for silence. 

It was serene, almost soothing in its stillness.

Yet, even as she admired it, a practical thought surfaced. So much wood… if a fire ever broke out here, they would be at a grave disadvantage.

Yixiang quickly decided it wasn’t her place to dwell on such matters. Whatever vulnerabilities the Cloud Recesses had were for the Lans themselves to manage, not for her to question. She dared not speak of it anyway—she was here to maintain a good profile, nothing more.

Before long, the ceremony began. One by one, the visiting clans stepped forward to present their gifts. Yixiang stood silently among the others, her gaze calm but observant. When the Jins took their turn, however, her left eye twitched despite herself. Their offering was lavish, steeped in their ostentatious golden hues. It was nothing unusual—after all, the Jins lived and breathed in their colors—but somehow, it always managed to grate on her nerves for an unknown reason.

Cocky asses, she thought dryly, the corner of her mouth twitching in a smile she quickly suppressed.

When their turn came, Yixiang stepped forward with Yanli at her side and the disciples following close behind. Together, they brought their arms forward in a formal bow, a small, courteous smile gracing Yixiang’s lips.

“Greetings, Lan-xiansheng.” They spoke in unison.

Straightening, Yixiang turned to the disciple holding the offering box and received it with utmost care. With a gentle smile, she stepped forward and presented the gift.

“As a token of gratitude for the Gusu Lan’s hospitality, we of the Jiang sect have prepared something we believe will suit the Lans well.” She placed the lacquered vault into the hands of the senior disciple, bowing once more with quiet grace.

At Yixiang’s offering, a Lan disciple stepped forward and carefully lifted the lid of the box. Its contents were revealed first to the acting sect leader of Gusu Lan, then to the heir who stood beside him.

The elder man leaned forward, his expression measured as his fingers brushed thoughtfully against his goatee. His eyes lingered on the gift in silent appraisal. Beside him, Lan Xichen’s lips curved into a gentle smile, his serene composure warming ever so slightly at the sight within the box.

“This set of teacups is crafted from the finest white porcelain, handmade by Master Guo Limeng,” Yixiang said softly, her voice carrying just enough to reach the front. “Along with them, we present a paper made of fine silk, as well as brushes and ink of the highest quality.” She lowered the lid of the vault with deliberate care before stepping back, a gentle smile on her lips.

“This disciple wishes you a long and healthy life, Lan-xiansheng.” At her signal, the Jiang disciples bowed in unison.

The elder Lan stroked his goatee thoughtfully, his gaze lingering on the gift. “I can see that the Jiang sect has put much care into this offering. We are grateful for such thoughtfulness.”

His words were calm, but the acknowledgment carried weight. At once, the Lan disciples mirrored the courtesy, bowing with solemn precision.

The ceremony pressed on, each clan stepping forward in turn. The hall remained hushed except for the measured voices of introductions, the soft rustle of robes, and the faint clink of ceremonial offerings being presented. 

By the time the Opening Ceremony concluded, the sun had already reached Wu Shi. With the formalities finished, the visiting disciples were granted freedom to roam and familiarize themselves with the Cloud Recesses.

However, before dismissing them, the elder Lan stood before the guest disciples and recited the Gusu-Lan sect’s rules, his voice calm yet firm. Each disciple was handed a copy of the rule book, the pages crisp and neatly bound. They were instructed not merely to memorize its contents but to carry them in mind and conduct, for in the Cloud Recesses, discipline was more than law—it was a way of life.

Disciples from the other clans couldn’t help but groan at the endless list of rules, their expressions a mixture of disbelief and misery. Fortunately, Yixiang’s fellow Jiang disciples had already exhausted their complaints long before arriving at the Cloud Recesses. She had made certain of it, never failing to remind, lecture, and all but nag them into silence until their grumbling slowly faded and, at last, disappeared.

But who were they fooling? Yixiang knew well enough that, deep down, every one of them was still complaining. They could keep their faces straight, but she had spent enough time with them to recognize the subtle signs—the suppressed sighs, the stiff shoulders, the faint scowls they thought they were hiding.

She couldn’t blame them, really. No one could be expected to adapt overnight to a routine they hadn’t grown up with. The Lan’s way of life demanded discipline carved into the bone, and for outsiders, it was less an adjustment and more a quiet torture.

Her little brother would rather die than stay here.

Walking through the hallway, Yixiang allowed her gaze to wander, taking in the serene beauty of the Cloud Recesses. From time to time, she caught sight of Lan disciples moving quietly in the distance, their white robes flickering like brushstrokes against the misty backdrop. Occasionally, she crossed paths with others in the corridor, their steps measured and silent.

More than once, she felt the curious eyes of fellow disciples upon her. Though none spoke a word, their glances lingered—subtle, questioning, as if trying to take her measure.

She smiled faintly, her hand brushing lightly against her lower abdomen, as if to steady the golden warmth pulsing in her dantian.

She was used to it—the stares that trailed after her wherever she went. Curiosity lingered in their eyes, along with envy, wonder, and doubt. Some looked at her as though she were a puzzle to be solved. Others, as though her strength were a blemish she had no right to possess.

It was always the same. The pulse of her golden core was too strong, far beyond what most could expect from someone her age. Too fierce for the girl they saw—a figure with delicate features and a fragile bearing, as if a gust of wind might sweep her away.

But appearances deceived, and a look was only a look.

They hadn’t sparred with her.

They hadn’t stood against the pressure of her spiritual energy.

And they most certainly hadn’t heard the sting of her sharp tongue.

One way or another, they would learn.

Just like how the Jiangs learned.

She lowered her hand and resumed walking, only to pause as she suddenly came across Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen. The two were engaged in conversation, as usual—Mingjue wearing his signature scowl, while Xichen’s expression remained calm, a gentle smile playing at his lips.

As they walked, the two young masters noticed her at the same time. Yixiang bowed gracefully in greeting, and they both returned her gesture, their smiles polite yet warm.

“Wei-guniang,” Xichen greeted gently, his voice calm and measured.

“Young Master Nie, Young Master Lan,” Yixiang replied with a slight nod and a soft smile, her posture composed yet relaxed. She noted the familiar contrast between the two young masters. Mingjue’s stern energy and Xichen’s serene presence.

“Are you off somewhere?” Xichen asked, tilting his head slightly in curiosity.

Yixiang shook her head. “I’m just wandering around." She said gently. “I thought I could use this free time to explore the Cloud Recesses.” She paused, letting her eyes sweep over the misty courtyards and towering pines behind him. “Your home is truly beautiful, Young Master Lan.”

Xichen’s smile deepened, soft and genuine. “Please,” he said, his tone warm, “you may speak to us without the titles. And I am glad you like the Cloud Recesses.”

Nie Mingjue cast a sidelong glance at Lan Xichen after he allowed her to speak without titles. Yixiang, catching the exchange, lifted her long sleeve to her mouth and let out a light, amused laugh.

“Then please,” she said, her voice gentle yet playful, “call me Yixiang... or Xiang, if you prefer, Xichen and Mingjue.” She fell into step beside them, her movements easy and natural.

Xichen then shifted slightly, gesturing for her to walk between them. Surprised, Yixiang glanced up at him, only to notice a subtle smile playing on his lips as he looked toward Mingjue. Something unspoken passed between the two young masters, a quiet familiarity that left her both curious and slightly amused.

Was he teasing this grumpy man?

She turned her head toward Mingjue, only to find his sharp gaze already on her. He raised a brow, a silent challenge written on his face. Yixiang, one who never backed down from such things, arched her own brow in reply. For a moment, the two locked eyes—like swords drawn in a quiet standoff, neither willing to yield.

It might have lasted longer if it were not for Xichen’s very pointed, very deliberate fake cough. Both of them broke their staring challenge, turning away as if nothing had happened.

“I would assume that we’re acquaintances now?” Xichen asked, his tone calm and almost teasing.

Yixiang couldn’t help but chuckle. It seemed Xichen had a knack for making decisions effortlessly. She had expected the Lans to be at least a little more… reserved, uptight, and strict, given the thousands of rules she had already heard about. But Xichen was different—relaxed, almost loose in comparison.

“Sure,” she finally replied, a small smile playing on her lips.

“Do you agree, A-Jue?” Xichen tilted his head toward Mingjue.

Mingjue only grumbled and gave a reluctant nod. Xichen sighed, a mixture of exasperation and amusement in his expression. He doesn’t know what to do with his friend sometimes. Grumpy, yes—but not this grumpy. He’s usually more approachable than this.

“Sorry about him, A-Xiang,” Xichen said quietly.

Yixiang waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry. I’m used to it.” A small smile tugged at her lips. “Yanli has a younger brother… one I’ve treated as my own little brother. He’s quite a grumpy boy, too.”

Both she and Xichen let out light laughs, while Mingjue rolled his eyes at the comparison.

“I’m glad, then," Xichen said softly, the corners of his mouth lifting into a gentle smile.

The three of them made their way through the halls. Xichen kept a careful yet casual pace beside her, occasionally glancing at Mingjue as if silently negotiating his friend's moods. Mingjue, of course, maintained his scowl, though it wavered slightly when Xichen shot him a look of mild exasperation.

“But you have your own younger brother, too, right?” Mingjue finally spoke, deciding to join the conversation, his voice gruff but less guarded than usual.

“Hmn.” Yixiang hummed thoughtfully. “I do. He’s a year older than Yanli’s little brother.” She paused, a gentle smile softening her features. “His name is Wei Ying. A bubbly, carefree boy, and overly cheerful at times, but also smart and quick-witted.”

She glanced ahead for a moment, lost briefly in thought, her tone carrying a note of fondness. “He can be mischievous, stubborn, and… infuriatingly clever. But he has a good heart. Always finding ways to make others smile, even when he shouldn’t.”

Seeing Yixiang’s enthusiasm, Xichen’s smile deepened, softening the serene lines of his face.

“I have a little brother too,” he said at last, a small sigh escaping him. Yet there was a fondness in his eyes that belied the weariness of his voice. “He’s… kind of reserved. But smart, and… cute.” At last, his smile broadened slightly, though it remained understated, almost shy.

Yixiang sensed there was more he wasn’t saying, a detail left unspoken, but she didn’t press. Instead, she returned his smile, understanding the hesitation. Xichen struck her as someone who rarely shared his burdens, someone who carried much alone. Yet even in that quiet restraint, there was warmth, a gentle care that shone through his words and expression.

“I hope I can meet him soon.”

At her words, Xichen’s smile brightened, warm and genuine, lighting up his usually composed features.

For a brief moment, Yixiang exchanged a careful glance with Mingjue. His eyes met hers, and he gave a subtle nod of gratitude. She simply returned his smile, then turned her attention back to Xichen, her own expression softening as they continued walking together.

“Maybe I’ll bring him along sometime, if he doesn’t have a class,” Xichen said with a gentle smile. The two of them exchanged a glance, silently agreeing on a plan, while Mingjue trailed along, clearly less enthused about being “dragged” into their scheme.

“Come to think of it,” Xichen continued, “Jiang Guuniang has a little brother too, right?”

“Yanli’s little brother,” Yixiang replied softly, a small smile touching her lips. “Jiang Cheng is… impatient. Aggressive at times, yes, but kind and caring underneath. He just… expresses it in the wrong way.” Her gaze softened as she spoke. “Yanli, on the other hand, is polite and still young. She may be physically weak, but internally… I could say she’s one of the strongest I know.”

“Does this make you their elder sister, then?” Mingjue asked, curiosity flickering behind his usual scowl.

Yixiang’s smile widened, a hint of pride in her expression. “I suppose it does. Sorry, Xichen,” she added with a playful tilt of her head, “I know your rules, but I can’t help it.”

The two of them let out soft, amused laughs, while Mingjue snorted.

“It’s just… having them as my younger siblings makes me feel proud and happy,” she continued, her tone gentle but full of warmth. “Especially after seeing how well they’ve grown.” She gave a cheeky wink, a touch of lightheartedness that made even the grumpy Mingjue glance away with a reluctant smirk.

"I won't blame you," Xichen lowered his voice. "I myself too am proud of my own." 

“I’ll report the two of you,” Mingjue teased, earning a dramatic roll of the eyes from Yixiang.

“You’re not just a grumpy man,” she shot back, “but also a joy killer?”

Mingjue only smirked in response, clearly pleased with himself.

Xichen turned toward him, his voice calm but teasing. “Don’t act like you don’t have a little brother, A-Jue.” Yixiang’s eyes widened slightly in mild surprise, tilting her head toward him. “He does,” Xichen continued, a small smile tugging at his lips. “His name is Nie Xia. As far as I know, he’s about to receive his courtesy name soon.”

This time, Yixiang turned her attention to Mingjue, who let out a long sigh of defeat. “I do,” he admitted reluctantly. “That boy… he’s timid, too fragile, and always refuses to train.”

He scratched the back of his neck, his frown deepening as he muttered, “Father seems to be spoiling him as well.”

“If that’s the case, you don’t have to force him,” Yixiang said gently, a soft smile on her lips. “Let him explore and learn things on his own. Soon enough, I’m sure he’ll find something he enjoys, something that suits him well.”

Mingjue’s frown deepened, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Dangers lurk everywhere,” he replied gruffly. “What if something happens when no one is by his side? What if he can’t protect himself?”

Yixiang paused, her steps faltering slightly.

Deep down, she knew the feeling all too well. Back when they still lived in the streets, she had always worried—just as Mingjue did now—about keeping her brother safe, shielding him from every danger. The memory made her chest tighten. She had been scared then… and perhaps, in some ways, still was.

Both young masters slowed beside her, noticing her hesitation, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and concern. Slowly, she shook her head, letting a small, reassuring smile appear, and gave them a subtle signal to continue walking.

“You’re scared?” She asked softly.

Mingjue remained silent for a long moment, his usual gruffness giving way to something quieter. Yixiang exchanged a glance with Xichen, who met her eyes with a faint, understanding smile. “Maybe,” Mingjue whispered.

“I guess we all can relate to each other, then,” Xichen added, his voice gentle, carrying a note of quiet connection.

“How ironic." Yixiang murmured, a faint smile touching her lips.

“Indeed.” Xichen replied softly, his eyes thoughtful as they resumed walking, the corridor around them quiet except for the soft echo of their footsteps.

As they approached the Training Hall, the three of them crossed paths with Jiang Yanli, who, to Yixiang's surprise, was not alone. Walking beside her was the Young Lady of the Wen Sect. Both girls immediately paused, lowered their gazes, and offered a respectful bow.

Yanli’s smile warmed her face as she stepped forward. “Dajie.” She greeted softly.

Yixiang raised her hand, brushing away a stray leaf that had clung stubbornly to her shoulder. Taking a measured step back, she let her sharp gaze sweep over Yanli before shifting to the Wen Qing at her side.

“What happened to you?” Yixiang asked, the suddenness of the question catching even Yanli off guard.

“Huh?” Yanli blinked.

Yixiang didn’t repeat herself. Instead, she leveled a pointed look at her sister, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly. Yanli’s hands tightened against the fabric of her robe as she lowered her gaze, the motion slow, almost reluctant. Like someone who had something to hide.

The tension that flickered between them did not go unnoticed. Yixiang’s frown deepened, and beside her, both Xichen and Mingjue exchanged brief glances, silently acknowledging the shift of her mood.

Wen Qing stepped forward, her expression composed and voice steady. “I saw a disciple from the Jin Sect push Jiang Guniang into the bushes and call her unpleasant names, Wei Guniang,” she said evenly, her words clipped but precise, leaving no room for denial.

Yixiang’s eyes immediately moved to her sister. Yanli’s appearance looked tidy at first glance, but small details betrayed the truth. A crease in her sleeve, a lock of hair hastily smoothed down, faint scuff marks along the hem of her robe. Little things others might overlook, but not her.

Yanli, however, seemed to shrink under the weight of her gaze. She shifted where she stood, as though the very ground sought to swallow her whole. She knew her elder sister too well—Yixiang’s silence was never empty. And though she dreaded disappointing her, Yanli dreaded even more the possibility of Yixiang drawing unwanted trouble upon herself for her sake.

Behind them, Xichen drew in a sharp breath, unable to mask his shock. Mingjue’s frown deepened, his arms crossing over his chest as though restraining the urge to storm off in fury.

Before Yixiang could speak, Yanli reached out. Her delicate hand slipped over her sister’s, the faint tremor in her fingers betraying her calm smile. She tilted her head and offered a soft smile, as though to reassure her: I’m fine. Let it go.

But Yixiang’s eyes, sharp as a blade, lingered on Yanli—unconvinced.

“Do you perhaps know who they are, Wei Guniang?” Xichen asked gently, turning his gaze toward Wen Qing.

At that, Yixiang drew in a long, steady breath before stepping closer to Yanli. Her hands fussed over her younger sister’s sleeves, brushing away invisible dust, straightening fabric, as though searching for any trace of harm.

“Are you hurt?” Yixiang asked softly, though the edge in her tone betrayed her worry.

“I don’t know their names, but I can remember their faces, Young Master Lan,” Wen Qing’s calm reply drifted in from the background, though Yixiang barely paid it any mind.

Yanli offered her sister a small smile, careful and measured, her voice low—as if gauging Yixiang’s mood. “I’m alright, Dajie. Don’t worry.”

Yixiang stilled, her hand lingering at Yanli’s sleeve. “What?”

Yanli hesitated, her smile faltering. “You’re not… going to do anything, right?” she asked quietly, her voice tinged with both worry and hope.

Hearing this, Nie Mingjue’s attention sharpened, as though it were the most interesting thing he’d heard in his life. He knew little about Yixiang, the eldest ward of the Jiang Sect leader. There had always been words spoken about her, rumors drifting through conversations, but Mingjue had never cared enough to listen.

Perhaps he should ask Zonghui later.

On his side, Xichen had already begun speaking with Wen Qing about the incident, his calm voice steady, yet deliberate—no doubt already considering how best to report what had happened

Yanli’s cautious question made Yixiang pause. Then, slowly, she let out a soft chuckle.

“Silly." She murmured.

The sound seemed to ease Yanli, and her shoulders relaxed at once.

“I won’t do anything. Since Xichen is here, I’m sure those Jin disciples will receive proper punishment.” Yixiang’s lips curved into a gentle smile as she turned toward Xichen.

But though her smile was kind, her eyes burned with quiet fire. “Right?”

Xichen inclined his head, a small, reassuring smile on his lips. “I apologize that you had to go through such a thing, Jiang Guniang. I’ll make sure my uncle is informed about this matter.”

“Don’t apologize for something you didn’t do, Xichen.” Yixiang’s voice was calm, but firm. She turned back to Yanli, her gaze steady and unyielding.

“I’ll let it go this once. But if it happens again…” Her words trailed, the faintest curve of a smile on her lips, though her eyes gleamed with a dangerous promise. “…I hope they’re prepared for whatever comes.”

Yixiang reached out and gently patted Yanli’s head. “Let’s head back to the dorms so you can freshen up.” She said softly, guiding her younger sister with a gentle nudge.

Before leaving, she turned to face the others one last time. “Xichen, Mingjue, Young Lady Wen, we’ll be taking our leave for now.” She offered a graceful bow, her arm extended in courtesy. Yanli followed her lead. “Young Lady Wen, I must thank you for your kindness and aid to my sister.”

Wen Qing shook her head lightly, her voice calm but warm. “There is no need. I was glad to help.” She lowered her gaze in a polite bow before adding in a quiet tone, “I must take my leave as well.” With a respectful nod to the two young masters, she stepped away.

Yixiang then turned back to the remaining pair, her smile returning, though still edged with restraint.

“Do not worry, A-Xiang. I’ll make sure Uncle is informed of what has happened. Those disciples will be punished properly,” Xichen assured her, his gentle smile carrying both sincerity and resolve. “I also hope we can spend time together again, when the chance arises.”

Mingjue gave a low huff, though he dipped his head in acknowledgment. 

“I hope so.” She responded.

And with that, they each went their separate ways.

As soon as Xichen and Mingjue parted ways, the latter wasted no time in seeking out Zonghui. Fortunately, he found Zonghui inside his dorm, seated quietly with his saber across his lap. The man’s shoulders were slumped, his attention fixed on the careful, methodical work of cleaning the blade of his saber.

Without a word, Mingjue dropped down in front of him, arms folded, eyes trailing after the slow movements with a restless sort of boredom.

Zonghui, noticing this, eventually looked up, one brow arching high at the sight. His Young Master was just sitting there, staring at him as if he had nothing better to do.

Really? He thought. Who in their right mind walks into someone else’s dorm room, sits down without a word, and stares while they polish a saber?

That was… decidedly un-Nie-like.

Nie Zonghui bit back the urge to ask why his Young Master was acting this way. The scowl etched across Mingjue’s face looked dangerous—though, to be fair, that was just his usual expression.

Oh well… he always had that scowling face.

“Zonghui.” At last, Mingjue broke the silence.

“Yes, Young Master?”

Nie Zonghui set the cloth aside with practiced ease, sliding the polished blade back into its sheath. He placed the saber down carefully before lifting his gaze to meet Mingjue’s directly.

“What do you know about the Jiang Sect leader’s wards?”

The question caught Zonghui off guard. Nie Mingjue was not the type to show interest in other people’s lives. For him, gossip and idle talk were a waste of time—utterly pointless, even.

Especially when it concerned people from whom he had nothing to gain.

Which is why Zonghui found this moment… unusual.

“Why the sudden interest?” Zonghui finally asked, still studying his Young Master with a hint of suspicion.

Mingjue grumbled under his breath, a scoff following soon after. “Just answer.”

Zonghui felt his eye twitch. Only Nie Mingjue could ask for a favor and still scowl at you while doing it.

With a long, resigned sigh, he set his hand on the table in front of him, sifting through his thoughts as he tried to pull up every detail he could recall about the Jiang Sect leader’s wards.

“As far as I know, the Jiang Sect leader’s wards are the children of the infamous Cangse Sanren and the respected cultivator Wei Changze,” Nie Zonghui began. “Though many refer to Wei Changze as nothing more than Jiang Zongzhu’s servant, the truth is he was once the Jiang Sect’s head disciple.”

He knew this because the name of Jiang Fengmian’s eldest ward carried weight across the entire Jianghu. Everything she did seemed to echo through the cultivation world—most notably her constant aid to disciples of other sects, the Nie included, during night-hunts. Her contributions were invaluable, yet she never asked for recognition or reward.

Because of that, details of her past and family lineage often surfaced in conversation. Zonghui remembered clearly how his own mother would speak of her—sometimes with awe, sometimes with wistful admiration. She would often remark that if only she had a daughter like Wei Yixiang, she would be content.

Zonghui couldn't help but shake his head.

“They say the siblings once lived in an abandoned house in Yiling. At a young age, the eldest ward of Sect Leader Jiang worked to earn money just to buy food.” Zonghui tapped his finger lightly against the table, his gaze flickering toward Mingjue.

“They also say she was remarkably clever for her age—smart, determined. She even managed to form her core without a teacher, relying only on the cultivation manuals she found in the library in Yiling.”

This caught Mingjue off guard. Forming a golden core with the aid of a guidebook was not unheard of—but to achieve it without a teacher, relying solely on written instructions, was nearly impossible.

“Are you… Sure?” He asked, his usual sternness giving way to genuine surprise.

Noticing his Young Master’s rare display of interest, Zonghui found his own curiosity stirred. Who would have thought Nie Mingjue, of all people, would be intrigued by the Jiang Sect leader’s wards?

Or ward?

He fought the urge to grin, smirking inwardly instead.

“Yes. They say the information came from a senior disciple of the Jiang Sect, so it’s definitely reliable.” Zonghui even gave a quick thumbs-up to emphasize his point.

Mingjue responded by swatting his hand away with an irritable slap. “Continue.”

Zonghui nearly rolled his eyes, suppressing a sigh at Nie Mingjue's impatience.

“They say Wei Yixiang had already learned how to hold a sword and fight even before Jiang Zongzhu took her in. After she began training formally in the Jiang Sect, it took less than two weeks before she was moved into the advanced classes. They called her a prodigy.”

Zonghui tapped his finger against the table, his tone shifting slightly. “What’s more amusing is that Wei Yixiang wasn’t the only one. Her younger brother, as well, after only a few months of study, managed to form a golden core. And not just any core, but a strong one.”

Mingjue, on the other hand, listened with full attention. Every detail Zonghui shared about the wards of sect leader Jiang held his focus, drawing him in deeper. It even surprised him how much Zonghui seemed to know about them, each word fueling his own interest further.

This was the first time Nie Mingjue had heard of people like that.

Not only intelligent, but strong. Naturals, through and through. A combination that was rarer than anyone cared to admit. In the Nie Sect, strength was everything—cultivation, discipline, loyalty to the blade. But his father once said, 'Strength alone could not last without the wit to wield it.'

And these two siblings… they seemed to possess both. Intelligence that bloomed without guidance, and strength that took root on its own. Born of hardship, not privilege.

Seems like… this year’s Guest Lecture will be more interesting than I imagined. Nie Mingjue thought, a rare, almost imperceptible smile tugging at his lips.

Nie Zonghui caught it immediately. His eyes narrowed, his own curiosity sparking. Nie Mingjue was not the type to smile easily, much less over gossip. Yet here he was, lips curved in the faintest trace of amusement.

Huh… interesting. Zonghui mused, filing the sight away. Whatever had piqued Nie Mingjue’s attention, it wasn’t just idle curiosity anymore. 

Chapter Text

The guest lecture at Cloud Recesses went along smoothly under Lan Qiren’s watchful teaching. The air was calm, the kind of quiet that only the Lan Sect could uphold. Every so often, a disciple would slip up and earn a sharp look or a pointed correction, but it never turned into anything serious. For the most part, the lessons carried on without much trouble.

"A-Xiang," Xichen called with a gentle smile.

She looked up from her notes, setting her brush aside with care. Standing beside him was Mingjue, his expression strained, an involuntary twitch tugging at the corner of his eye in barely concealed annoyance.

Her gaze lingered on Mingjue a moment longer before drifting back toward Xichen again, as though weighing the contrast between her smiling friend and their irritated friend.

"What happened to him?" She asked, tilting her head as she subtly pointed toward Mingjue.

The two men settled at the same table where she sat. Xichen neatly laid out his notes, while Mingjue only sat back with one hand resting on the table, his gaze fixed somewhere beyond the library’s windows.

Xichen caught her curious glance and offered a small smile, shoulders lifting in a light shrug as though to say he was just as puzzled as she was.

'Don’t know.' He mouthed silently.

She turned to look at Mingjue again. Honestly, he looked like a restless beast forced into confinement—gaze fixed on the world outside, as though the library’s walls had stolen his freedom. If he could, he probably would have smashed his way out just to breathe some fresh air.

"Has he gone crazy?" She asked Lan Xichen again, though this time Mingjue finally reacted.

"Who’s crazy?” He snapped, scowling at her.

She couldn’t help the snicker that slipped out. "You, of course. Why are you staring out the window so longingly? Don’t tell me you’re missing your lover?” She pointed at him with mock accusations, eyes glinting with mischief.

Mingjue's scowl worsened, and Xichen chuckled.

"How can he miss a lover when he doesn't have one?" Xichen chimed in.

"Right." She silently laughed.

Nie Mingjue only rolled his eyes at their teasing and decided it wasn’t worth the effort to respond. His real annoyance stemmed from earlier, when he’d been forced to sit beside a Lan disciple during reading—an experience he clearly didn't enjoy.

That damn rigid disciple. Mingjue knew exactly who had tattled on him, the reason he’d been punished for speaking. If only they placed Zonghui beside him.

As if summoned by his thoughts, Zonghui suddenly popped up behind him, appearing so quietly it was almost suspicious.

Mingjue nearly jumped out of his seat, whipping around with a glare. "Could you not sneak up like that?!”

Zonghui didn’t even spare Mingjue a glance, completely unfazed by the outburst.

"I think I know why, Young Master Lan, Young Lady Wei." He said with a cheerful smile, clearly pleased with himself.

This immediately caught both Xichen and Yixiang’s attention. Though her brush hovered over the page with an almost finished note, Yixiang abandoned it without a second thought. She leaned forward, eager for whatever revelation Zonghui had to share. Before doing so, however, she shot Xichen a quick, knowing smile, as though inviting him to join in her mischief.

"We must write the rules later for gossiping," Xichen said, his voice carrying that familiar mix of patience and mild exasperation. He could only shake his head, though the corners of his lips curved faintly in amusement.

With this, Yixiang rested her chin on her hand and fixed her attention squarely on Zonghui, eyes glimmering with curiosity. "Now," she said with a teasing lilt, "tell us. What’s up with... Him?" She directly pointed towards Nie Mingjue.

Sitting down and making himself perfectly comfortable, Nie Zonghui folded his arms with the air of someone about to deliver something truly important. His grin widened as he began to recount, in great detail, everything that had happened earlier during the reading period—a funny situation he had, by sheer fortune, witnessed from start to finish.

The room had been silent, every disciple absorbed in their own book and notes. Mingjue, however, came to a halt when his ink ran dry. Setting his brush down with a faint huff, he turned toward the Lan disciple seated beside him.

"Can you pass me the ink?"

At first, the Lan disciple tried to ignore him, eyes stubbornly fixed on his book. But under Mingjue’s steady, unrelenting stare that is sharp enough to bore right into his soul, the boy finally faltered.

Mingjue arched a brow, waiting.

With an utterly impassive expression, the disciple parted his lips to speak.

"One must not speak during the reading period."

"..."

Is he... Serious?

Mingjue felt his head throb as his irritation slowly started bubbling just beneath the surface.

"...I was asking you to pass the ink." He muttered, his tone dangerously close to a scowl. But the Lan disciple merely turned his back on him and calmly returned to his book, as if the exchange had never happened.

Thankfully, another disciple who had overheard the exchange was kind enough to slide the ink toward him. He even offered Mingjue an apologetic smile, silently mouthing an apology for his friend’s rigid behavior.

Mingjue grumbled under his breath but accepted the ink, giving a curt nod in return. For all his annoyance, he wasn’t about to be rude to the one disciple who had at least shown him some courtesy.

"How do you all live like this?" He muttered under his breath, shaking his head as he dipped his brush back into the ink and continued writing.

From behind, Zonghui had seen the whole exchange and inwardly snorted at Mingjue’s rising irritation. He hadn’t expected a Lan disciple to act that way toward the Young Master of Nie—bold, if not downright foolish.

Honestly, the boy had just broken his own sect’s rule. After all, ignoring someone was hardly in the spirit of courtesy.

Xichen’s lips parted in a soft "oh," while Yixiang simply blinked, trying to process what she’d just heard.

"Pft—" A laugh slipped from her before she could stop it, and she quickly ducked her head, pretending to focus on her notes.

Mingjue’s scowl only deepened, the dark cloud over his expression making her shoulders shake even harder as she tried—and failed—to stifle her amusement.

"Oh, I’m sorry, A-Jue," Xichen said softly, his tone earnest enough to make Yixiang pause and glance up at him.

"Stop apologizing for something you didn’t do." She reminded him, her voice firm but not unkind. "You can’t always say sorry for things you weren’t aware of..." She paused, "or for faults that were never yours to begin with.”

"A-Xiang is right." Mingjue muttered gruffly, backing her up without hesitation. His agreement came out more like a grumble, but it carried weight all the same.

Xichen only smiled at their words before turning back to Zonghui. "Do you happen to know who that disciple was?" He asked.

Zonghui tilted his head, pretending to think before answering, "As far as I know… he’s called Lan Wuren?"

"Ah, A-Ren…" Xichen murmured in recognition.

"You know him?" Yixiang asked as she picked up her brush again, dipping it lightly into the ink.

"He’s a distant cousin of mine," Xichen explained, calmly closing his book. "I’ll inform Uncle about his behavior earlier. After all, he himself has violated a rule or two." His smile was gentle, though there was a hint of quiet firmness behind it.

"Whatever you want." Mingjue grumbled, clearly done with the entire topic.

"Why don’t we go down to the town later?" She suggested with a gentle smile, turning to include him. "You should come too, Zonghui."

The man gave a small shrug, his expression warm but apologetic. "I promised the others I’d join our group later, so I’ll have to pass this time." Rising to his feet, he added with an easy grin, "Off I go then—enjoy yourselves later!" With that, Zonghui departed, his steps brisk and light.

She turned her attention to the other two.

Xichen offered a calm smile. "Of course. A-Jue will be coming as well."

A-Jue frowned, muttering under his breath, "Do I not get a say in this?"

"No." She and Xichen replied at the same time, their voices overlapping in perfect unison.

Out of the corner of her eye, Yixiang noticed Yanli and Wen Qing entering the library. The thought of inviting them along later crossed her mind, and she lifted a hand in greeting to catch their attention. Wen Qing paused, looking momentarily uncertain, but Yanli—smiling warmly—guided her forward and led her to join their table.

"Dajie."

Yixiang didn’t hesitate. She turned to them right away. 'We’re planning to go down to the town later. Why don’t you two come along?"

Yanli blinked in surprise, her gaze flickering uncertainly toward the two young masters.

"Don’t worry, we don’t mind," Xichen said gently, noting the hesitation in her eyes. "The more, the better."

Yanli’s expression softened, and she gave a small smile. "If you’ll have us."

All eyes then shifted to Wen Qing. She exhaled quietly before conceding, "I suppose I could tag along…"

At that, Xichen set aside the scroll he had been reading, his lips curving into a barely restrained smile. Clasping his hands together, he declared, “Then it’s settled. We’ll go down and enjoy ourselves.”

At Shen Shi, the group gathered at the entrance of Cloud Recesses. Yixiang, Xichen, and Mingjue carried their swords with practiced ease, while Yanli and Wen Qing stood beside them unarmed.

They set off down the mountain path, their steps steady and unhurried. The air was cool, touched with the freshness of moss and wild orchids clinging to the rocks. There is also a stream that ran parallel to the trail for a time, its water clean and glinting as it caught the sun's rays that were piercing through the heavy trees.

A-Ying would love this view. 

The silence between them was not oppressive but rather calming, the kind of quiet that invites them to think. With a small smile, Yixiang let her gaze wander over the scenery, admiring the play of sunlight on the ridges. Though her mind wandered to what they might do once they reached the town later.

"So, what’s our plan?" Yixiang asked suddenly, breaking the gentle quiet of their descent.

Xichen slowed his pace, considering for a moment before replying. "The town has many things worth seeing. We could look through the market stalls first—there may be something you guys might like to buy. After that, we can find a place to sit and share a meal."

"I heard there’s a place in Caiyi Town with a perfect view of the sunset," Yanli said softly. Her voice carried a gentle warmth, and Xichen’s eyes lit up as though a lantern had been kindled in his thoughts.

"There is," he confirmed with a smile. "Along the river—the view is beautiful there."

"Then why not a picnic on a boat?" Wen Qing suggested.

Yixiang and Yanli exchanged a glance, their expressions brightening with delight at the suggestion. The thought of drifting on the river at sunset felt novel and charming—something they had never considered before, not even during their days at Lotus Pier.

Well, with Yu Ziyuan around the Lotus Pier, watching and looking for holes... It's really impossible. 

That woman is allergic to happiness.

"That’s an excellent idea, Young Lady Wen Qing." Mingjue finally spoke up.

Yixiag tilted her head at him with a teasing smile. "So you’ve decided to stop playing the mute?"

Mingjue shot her a sharp look, which only made her chuckle as she drifted closer to Xichen’s side for cover.

"Then it’s settled." Xichen said, stepping in smoothly. "We’ll start by visiting the stalls—look around, perhaps buy a few things—and afterwards, we can gather food and snacks to bring for the boat picnic."

Yixiang gave him a cheerful thumbs-up in agreement.

When they arrived at the town, it was peaceful, lively, but not noisy. There are a lot of interesting stalls in Caiyi town. She suddenly remembered the town in Yunmeng, though it was a bit different because it was really loud and noisy there.

When they arrived at the town, the atmosphere was peaceful, lively, yet never overwhelming. Caiyi Town brimmed with fascinating stalls of food and artifacts or things that are suitable for gifting. As they walked along the bustling streets, she suddenly remembered the town in Yunmeng. Yet, the differences are visible. Yunmeng’s streets had always been filled with loud voices and constant noise, while Caiyi carried its liveliness in a gentler, calmer way.

Since their arrival in Cloud Recesses, this was the first time she had actually set foot in Caiyi Town. It wasn’t that she had no desire to enjoy and explore. In truth, she had always planned it. More importantly, she had made a quiet promise to herself: that she would bring the Jiang disciples here and treat them.

She had simply been far too occupied with her studies in the Cloud Recesses, especially after her request to learn music cultivation and a few techniques from the Lan Clan. She didn't even expect that Elder Lan would grant her request. Lan Xichen, on the other hand, had been delighted by the idea. He even went so far as to pull Nie Mingjue along. And together, the three of them suffered in another set of private lessons.

Of course, Mingjue’s enthusiasm for music cultivation left much to be desired. He approached the lessons half-heartedly, his impatience clear in every attempt. Eventually, the elder Lan forbade him from touching the instruments and instead was made to sit quietly and observe Lan Xichen and her practice.

Still, the experience had been enjoyable. It was memorable and fun.

Yanli, on the other hand, kept herself busy by learning whatever she could—especially when it came to cooking with herbs and preparing foods that could aid cultivators. Yixiang often caught sight of her together with Wen Qing, who, she observed, seemed far more drawn to the study of medicine than anything else.

Yixiang had even joined a medical class and quickly noticed just how intelligent Wen Qing was in this field. As it turned out, Wen Qing belonged to a Wen branch family entirely devoted to medicine, which explained her natural talent and confidence.

Yixiang had been worried at first, seeing how strict and cold Wen Qing is. However, Yanli and Wen Qing seemed to get along remarkably well, and Yixiang could see how close they had gotten. Sometimes, whenever she can, Yixiang would slip in to join them. 

Come to think of it, this was actually the very first time the five of them had been together in one frame since that very first day they arrived at the Cloud Recesses.

"A-Li, look. A-Cheng would love this." She lifted a fabric dog toy with a small grin before reaching for another item. "And… this set of brushes and paper—for A-Ying." Her smile softened as she held them up.

She had read in her brother’s most recent letter that he had begun taking an interest in drawing. The art materials sold here in Caiyi Town were of particularly fine quality, and she felt certain he would be delighted to receive them.

Jiang Yanli held up two tassels, one purple and the other red. "They can hang these on their spiritual swords once they receive them," she said gently.

Both pieces were clearly crafted with care. The purple tassel was adorned with a lustrous pearl set into its cord, its length elegant, and its neck decorated with a circular lotus design. The red tassel, in contrast, bore a crescent-shaped silver moon paired with a half-lotus motif upon its cord, while a black-and-white bean rested neatly at its neck.

"It’s beautiful, A-Li." She murmured.

As they continued browsing, she noticed Mingjue standing stiffly, his expression grim as he stared at the fans on display. Curious, she stepped closer. "Aren’t you going to buy one for Huaisang?" she asked lightly, catching him off guard.

Nie Mingjue shut his eyes for a moment, drawing in a deep breath as though steadying the patience that threatened to fray. When he finally exhaled, his tone was clipped but controlled.

"He already has too many."

She couldn’t help but chuckle at his response. "Too bad," she teased, her eyes glinting with amusement. "I’d have loved to add another one."

She walked over to the stall, her gaze sweeping over the neat rows of fans, quietly assessing each one. Then, something caught her eye. Amidst the many designs, one fan seemed to stand apart.

Its dark lacquered ribs gleamed, each tip adorned with intricate gold filigree. Between them stretched pale jade fabric, embroidered with faint floral motifs. The edges were trimmed with a fine border of golden lacework wnd the guard sticks flared into ornate carvings. From the rivet, a fine chain dangled, bearing a filigree ornament that swayed gently, catching the light with every movement.

“How pretty.” She lifted the fan carefully, her eyes bright. “I think your brother would love this.” Smiling, she turned toward Nie Mingjue.

He met her gaze in silence, his stern expression unmoving. But after a brief pause, he sighed inwardly, gave in, and took the fan from her hand before stepping forward to pay for it.

She and Xichen exchanged a knowing glance, a small smile tugging at his lips as Yixiang playfully winked at him. The two of them chuckled softly before drifting off to browse the other stalls once more.

She wasn’t sure how long they had wandered through the stalls, time slipping by in a blur of colors and chatter. The next thing she knew, they were already gathering snacks—choosing the ones best suited for a picnic on the boat. Yanli, ever thoughtful, suggested they also bring along a lantern, reminding them that once the sun set, the sky over the water would be completely dark.

"Who did you buy that for?" she asked curiously when she noticed Wen Qing holding a book filled with archery tactics, ranging from the basics to advanced mastery.

She wasn’t particularly close with Wen Qing, but she had observed her enough to know that the young woman had little interest in violence. By that reasoning, it was clear she wasn’t fond of wielding weapons either, making the choice of book surprising.

The young lady stayed silent for a moment before finally answering, her voice soft. "My little brother."

Yixiang blinked, momentarily surprised.

"You… have a little brother?" she asked carefully, making sure her tone was gentle and not prying.

Wen Qing gave a small nod. "I do. He’s very fond of archery, so I thought this book might be helpful for him. It’s something he could learn from."

"Pardon us, we didn’t expect you to have a younger brother as well, Wen Guniang." Xichen said, his voice warm as he offered her a gentle smile.

Mingjue let out a short snort. "Does this make us a set of older siblings now?"

She laughed, giving Mingjue a hearty clap on the back. "Funny thing, big guy!"

His scowl deepened, and he reached out as if to grab her, but she was quicker, dodging out of his grasp before his “haunting” hands could catch her.

The other three laughed at their playful bickering until they finally arrived at the river port. Xichen stepped forward to handle the talking, negotiating smoothly with the boat owner, though the question of payment quickly arose.

Xichen had insisted on covering the cost himself, and Mingjue, equally stubborn, had done the same. She almost added her own protest but decided against fueling the fire. Instead, she offered a more practical solution. They would simply divide the payment evenly, sparing everyone the argument.

In the end, with the quiet backing of the two girls, she managed to win over the two men, leaving both Xichen and Mingjue with no choice.

"Ahhh, finally." she breathed out with relief.

They had managed to rent a large boat, spacious enough to comfortably accommodate the five of them. Fortunately, it was already nearing nightfall, and the number of customers had dwindled, leaving several of the bigger boats free for them to choose.

"Look." Wen Qing said softly, pointing toward the horizon.

All of them turned in the direction she indicated. The setting sun painted the sky in sweeping hues of orange and red, its glow shimmering across the river’s surface. The sight was so breathtaking that, for a moment, silence fell among them—a quiet peace settling in their hearts as they took it in.

Yixiang’s gaze moved to each of them in turn.

Wen Qing, whose features often appeared stern, now wore a softened expression, serene and touched with a rare smile.

Jiang Yanli, who always carried herself with quiet bravery, looked at peace, safe and steady, as though the world’s weight had finally lifted from her shoulders.

Lan Xichen, whose smile was a constant companion, seemed lighter than it had been ever, free, unbound, and genuinely happy.

And then… 

Nie Mingjue. The man who was always tough, brave, and perpetually gruff now looked completely unguarded. His features were softened, his expression gentle, and for once, he looked utterly… content.

She suddenly paused, a thought slipping into her mind.

What about her?

How did she look in this moment?

A smile touched her lips. Someday, she promised herself, I’ll bring my brother here too—so he can witness this, and feel the beauty of a moment like this for himself.

A moment where all of their worries had temporarily vanished. A moment where they are free from every responsibility, problem and rule that had grounded them. A moment where, in a world filled with chaos, they felt peaceful, happy, and safe. A moment that was steady, solid, and unshaken.

The five of them lingered a while longer, talking and sharing their thoughts about countless things. And as Yixiang listened, she realized something for the first time—just how vast their differences truly were.

Wen Qing leaned toward medicine, her purpose clear and precise. Jiang Yanli was a natural caretaker, gentle and steady at heart. Lan Xichen carried himself as the one who set order, guiding with quiet balance. Nie Mingjue, fierce and unwavering, was a man of battle.

And her? She wasn’t sure. All she knew was that she tried her hand at everything—never fixed to one path, but never without purpose either.

"Why do we have to go this slow?" Mingjue grumbled, his voice carrying across the quiet river.

They were on their way back now, though not without some struggle. Having stubbornly refused to hire anyone at the port to paddle for them, they had taken it upon themselves instead. It had seemed simple enough when the river was still lit by daylight. But now, with the sun gone and darkness wrapping around them, their progress was sluggish at best. Every few strokes, the boat wobbled, and they slowed even more, careful not to collide with anything they can't see.

"It’s fucking heavy." Mingjue cursed as he paddled, his muscles straining. 

"Can’t even move the boat with five people? Weak." Yixiang teased, a mischievous grin tugging at her lips. She had, after all, learned from her little brother how to drive people straight into madness.

"Damn it."

The paddle seemed to snag on something beneath the water, and Mingjue yanked at it with more force than necessary.

"It’s fucking stuck." He growled, bending down to wrestle with it. 

His impatience bled through with every movement, and before long, he was tapping his foot in frustration. They all seemed to forget that Mingjue wasn’t just any man—he was a cultivator with far more strength than the situation required.

"Mingjue—"

The warning came too late. The next thing they knew, the boat tipped dangerously and then flipped, sending all five of them splashing into the river.

Yanli gasped in shock, Wen Qing flailed in panic, and even Xichen—usually so calm—panicked enough to raise his voice.

"Mingjue!" Yixiang shouted, furious as she surfaced.

…

…

...

A deadbeat silence followed as they all caught their breath. Then, quite suddenly, Wen Qing snorted. Yanli’s light laughter followed, and soon after came Xichen’s chuckle while she started bickering with Mingjue.

Nie Mingjue really needed to learn the Art of Patience.

Honestly… I don’t know what to do about this guy anymore.

Chapter Text

"Wrong. Start again."

Lan Qiren's sharp tone cut through the air as he turned toward her. Wei Yixiang flinched, her fingers stiff over the guqin strings. They had been at this for what felt like hours, and she'd already hit the wrong note more times than she could count. She was this close to being kicked out of the room, and honestly, she wouldn't even blame him.

But it wasn't her fault. Really.

Her fingers were freezing.

After all, they came back to the Cloud Recesses completely soaked from the river last night. And of course, luck wasn't on their side. A Lan doctor happened to pass by, saw them dripping wet, and started scolding them right on the spot. The news spread faster than resentful energy itself—one disciple to another, until it reached the elders' ears as though they'd committed a crime.

I thought gossiping was forbidden?

After changing into dry clothes, they were summoned to the Hanshi for another round of lectures. The elders went on and on about how heirs and young ladies from gentry clans should "maintain grace and propriety." Apparently, coming back soaked was a moral offense now.

And the words they used… sharp, judgmental, and oh-so-traditional.

Too bad I was there—so they couldn’t exactly scold me quietly.

"I apologize, but… you are all immediately accusing us without any proof?" Yixiang asked, her tone calm and polite. The elders frowned. "Do not make assumptions about others. No slandering. Do not judge too quickly. Be careful with your words. Do not be careless with others' feelings. Avoid careless speech. Be open to other perspectives." She paused, then smiled faintly. "Should I continue?"

"Enough," one elder snapped.

"Please forgive me," she continued evenly, "but neither of us violated a single rule… yet." At that, the four beside her turned to look, alarmed by her choice of words. She cleared her throat delicately and added, "I mean, did you ever consider how your words might affect us? We meant no harm. We only enjoyed ourselves. We did nothing wrong. In fact—doesn't this count as disrespecting the younger? You didn't even ask why. What if we had been fighting a water ghost? Or what if a villager accidentally threw a water bucket at us?"

The elders fell silent. Yixiang resisted the urge to raise a brow. She didn't want to cause real trouble—she just wanted to make her point.

"Do not talk back to your elders," one elder warned.

"Stand firm in your convictions," Yixiang replied softly.

"Do not let arrogance guide you."

"Do not harbor prejudice," she countered, her tone still measured, her smile still perfectly polite.

The elder glared at her, then sighed deeply to calm himself. Yixiang simply maintained her graceful composure.

If they wanted to wield the rules against her, she could cite them too. In fact, compared to her supposed "offense," these elders had already violated more than twenty. And all she was doing was matching their tone. Using their own teachings in words that could not be dismissed without contradicting themselves.

"I only hope," she said finally, "that we also receive the same respect we pay to the elders. We look up to you as our teachers and guides. But what happens when those we look up to are the first to judge us without seeking truth? When it is you, among all people, who would speak ill of us?" Her eyes softened, her voice clear and unwavering. "The Lan Clan's rules are precious, and we have learned to take them to heart—just as you taught us. So we only hope," she bowed slightly, "that the elders will do the same."

Silence filled the hall.

Moments later, they were told to leave the Hanshi.

Mingjue could only smirk at Yixiang's boldness. He didn't expect her to speak that way in front of the elders—but he couldn't deny, it suited her. It sounded like her. There's still a lot to learn about that girl, he thought. And maybe… this was the start of it.

"Is that normal?" Wen Qing asked quietly, leaning toward Jiang Yanli while glancing at the calm, smiling Yixiang ahead of them.

Though eavesdropping and gossiping were forbidden, Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue could still hear them—well, not because they meant to. They were walking close enough that every word naturally reached their ears.

"Mmm." Jiang Yanli hummed softly. "That's just really her.'

Yixiang rolled her eyes at that but didn’t comment.

"Huh?" Wen Qing blinked.

"Dajie has always been like that," Yanli said, smiling. "Strong, brave, confident, and honest. She never backs down from the truth—she brings it into the light instead. That's what our clan elders claim to dislike about her: her straightforwardness, her honesty."

"So she’s not liked?" Wen Qing asked.

"No, quite the opposite." Yanli shook her head, her tone gentle. "They might grumble, but they love her all the same, because she's her. Unique, full of talent, and just."

"And you are too, A-Li." Yixiang patted Yanli's head.

Lan Xichen couldn't help smiling at that. For some reason, he saw Yixiang as a younger sister—though he couldn't really explain why. Maybe it was because she carried herself too maturely, too guarded, like someone who's learned to stand alone for far too long.

She always seemed cautious, tense, and independent. It wasn't a bad thing—but it made him want to remind her that she wasn’t alone anymore. That she had them now.

Well, that was his thought. He wasn't so sure about his best friend.

Xichen side-eyed Nie Mingjue, who was still focused on listening to Yanli and Wen Qing's conversation, pretending otherwise.

Xichen chuckled quietly to himself. 

He'd definitely need to punish himself later... for technically violating a rule.

"L-Lan xiansheng." Yixiang hesitantly called.

When she woke up that morning, her hands wouldn't stop trembling. They were cold, clammy, and slick with sweat. She'd checked herself for fever—nothing. The rest of her body felt fine, but her hands… didn't. When she finally looked down, she noticed a small cut between her thumb and point fingers. It didn't seem serious—until now.

"What is it?" Lan Qiren asked, massaging his goatee, eyes sharp.

"I… don't think I can play properly," she murmured, biting back a groan. She raised her sleeve and showed the darkening wound on her hand. "I thought it wasn't serious, but now I can't really feel my hand…"

The elder's brows furrowed. He exhaled heavily. "Xichen, guide her to the infirmary."

"Yes, Shufu."

Lan Xichen immediately stepped forward. With calm precision, he helped her stand and guided her out, his expression soft but clearly worried.

Nie Mingjue, who had nothing to do in this class, quietly followed them.

"How did you get that?" Mingjue asked as they walked.

"I think it got caught on something when the boat flipped," she said, wincing as the numbness spread through her hand.

"…Sorry."

Yixiang blinked, then laughed lightly. "Why are you apologizing?" Mingjue scratched the back of his neck, looking away with a low grunt.

Lan Xichen, walking beside them, hid a small smile.

"Tsk." 

Yixiang smirked teasingly. "Xichen, your best friend is such a mood-swinger." Mingjue's glare was shar, but the tips of his ears betrayed him, burning faintly red.

When they arrived at the medical wing, Lan Daifu immediately noticed their approaching figures and rose from her seat. She met them halfway, and the three of them bowed politely.

"Lan-Daifu," Xichen greeted.

The doctor nodded in acknowledgment before taking Yixiang's hand, frowning at the darkening bruise. "What happened to this?"

"I… I'm not sure how I got it," Yixiang admitted. "But it was from last night, when we fell into the water after the boat flipped." Lan Daifu guided her inside, with Xichen and Mingjue silently following behind.

"This is deep," the doctor said, inspecting the wound. "How did you not notice it sooner?"

"I assumed it got caught on something underwater. I was too focused on everyone else to notice," Yixiang replied, watching as the doctor began cleaning the cut.

"I advise you not to move your right hand too much." Lan Daifu's tone turned stern. "Why didn't you come to us earlier? It's darkening because of infection—what could've happened if you hadn't decided to have it checked now?"

Yixiang offered an apologetic smile. "I thought it was nothing last night, and I couldn't miss my class earlier—"

"Is your class more important than your health?" the doctor huffed, crossing her arms. "Prioritize yourself before anything else. Keep that in mind."

Funny, she thought, I always tell Wei Ying the same thing… and now I'm the one being told off for it.

"I will, Lan-Daifu," she replied meekly.

The doctor finally released her hand, wrapping it with a clean bandage after applying medicine. She then handed Yixiang a small bottle of herbal tonic to prevent the infection from spreading.

Yixiang had always been obedient when it came to instructions—but she couldn't help suppressing a laugh at Mingjue's face as Lan Daifu listed the rules she now had to follow: no sword practice, no writing, no lifting anything heavy, and no strenuous movement with her right hand.

She sighed. Frustration prickled beneath her calm expression.

What does she mean I can't do anything? Her gaze shifted toward her left hand. Well… who said she can't use that one instead? That will do.

"Let's go, A-Xiang." Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue once again positioned her between them as they walked.

"Ah—Xichen," she called softly, looking up at him. "What did Grandmaster Lan say about my request to learn some of the Lan music pieces?"

She had written a formal petition to study musical cultivation under the Gusu Lan Sect—specifically the pieces Rest, Clarity, Evocation, and Cleansing. All were useful techniques for pacifying resentful energy during night hunts. 

"Shufu said he'll have to ask your clan's sect leader, Jiang Zongzhu—regarding the matter," Xichen replied with a warm smile. "If it's approved, you'll likely be mentored by Shufu himself, alongside Elder Hao."

Both Xichen and Mingjue noticed the faint spark of excitement in her eyes. It was subtle, fleeting—but for someone like Yixiang, who rarely showed such open emotion, it was genuine enough to make them quietly grateful to witness it.

"One day…" Xichen said after a pause, his tone thoughtful, almost hopeful. "Would you all—perhaps, like to swear siblinghood? The three of us, Wen guniang, and Jiang guniang."

Mingjue and Yixiang exchanged a look. Then, with a small smile, she stepped forward ahead of them, turning back to face the two men.

"That would be wonderful, Xichen."

Mingjue nodded. "Why don't we talk about it with the two later?"

Xichen agreed, the faintest smile curving his lips.

"Dajie!"

All three were greeted by Yanli and Wen Qing upon arriving at the library. Both young women looked worried as their eyes immediately fell on Yixiang's bandaged hand.

"Don't worry, Lan-Daifu already checked it," she reassured them with a smile. Mingjue snorted, earning an elbow to his ribs from Yixiang. Then she noticed two unopened letters in Yanli’s hands. Yanli followed her gaze and smiled, setting the letters down and sliding them toward her.

"A letter from A-Ying and A-Cheng, Dajie."

Yixiang accepted them carefully, checking the names written on the envelopes. They were addressed to both her and Yanli.

"You didn't open it yet?" she asked.

"I wanted to wait for you since it's for both of us." Usually, they received separate letters from their younger brothers, though the contents were almost always the same.

With a soft chuckle, Yixiang raised her bandaged hand. "Would you mind helping me open it?" Mingjue stood up from her right side, allowing Yanli to take his place beside her.

"I wouldn't mind at all, Dajie," Yanli said with a gentle smile as she carefully began to open the letter.

"Open the letter from the youngest first," Yixiang said.

Yanli complied, unfolding Jiang Cheng's letter. Across the table, Lan Xichen was politely focusing on his notes, while Wen Qing and Nie Mingjue were blatantly listening. Yixiang chuckled.

"Are there any private contents? If not, why don't we read it out loud?" That made Xichen look up. Yixiang winked, and he could only shake his head and smile.

Yanli began to read, "Dajie and A-jie, how are you two doing? A-Xian is being annoying again! Yesterday he got us punished for stealing Elder Bao's precious book. But it was fun! Father also takes us to meetings with other sects sometimes! Don't worry about us, your little brothers are well here! A-Xian has great, great news that I'm sure will make the two of you proud! I just hope you read my letter before his! We miss you two, please come back in one piece!"

Nie Mingjue chuckled. "He sounds affectionate."

"He's a grumpy kid," Yixiang replied dryly, then smiled. "But yes… affectionate when he wants to be."

Yanli laughed softly, "It's sweet how they both still write." She then shrugged, "Well, it was our agreement."

"I suppose you'll be glad we read his first," Wen Qing said. "Sounds like there's a surprise coming."

"I'm beginning to think so too," Yixiang murmured as Yanli opened the second letter.

The moment the paper unfolded, Yixiang was greeted by Wei Ying's usual chaotic handwriting. The ink was smudged as if the boy had been bouncing with excitement while writing.

"To the prettiest, kindest, and most amazing Dajie and A-jie!" Yanli read, smiling. Xichen chuckled under his breath.

"Guess who that is," Yixiang teased.

Yanli continued, "Guess what! We just came back from Nightless City because Uncle Jiang had a meeting there! A-Cheng and I visited the library where we used to study before, Jie! I also introduced him to the vendors we knew there! They're the same as always, and the old woman in the library is still strict but kind! And oh, oh! Uncle Jiang gave us tanghulu! It was sweet, Dajie and A-jie, and it's also new here! Do you two want it?! Let's go back when you get home, pease!"

Yixiang laughed softly. "He's… full of energy, as always."

“So, he's Wei Ying,” Mingjue remarked.

"Before I forget!" Yanli read on. "When we got back to Lotus Pier, the elders and Uncle Jiang had a meeting. A-Cheng and I didn’t know what it was about, but the next day they told us that we will receive our swords earlier, and announced A-Cheng as the official heir, and me as the Head Disciple! DAJIE, A-JIE! I'M THE HEAD DISCIPLE NOWW!!!"

If they had been drinking something, they would've choked on it. Yixiang and Yanli's eyes widened. They exchanged surprised looks—so did their three friends.

Holy crap, what just happened while they were at Cloud Recesses?

"Wait, what?" Yixiang said, 

"Wow," Mingjue said, grinning. "How old is your brother again?"

"He's almost thirteen, and A-Cheng is twelve," she answered, panicked—both worried and confused. They were too young. Announcing Jiang Cheng as official heir was expected since the title had always been his since birth, but making Wei Ying Head Disciple at barely thirteen? That was unheard of. Yixiang felt torn between pride and concern for her brother.

"Seems like the Jiang elders saw something in them," Xichen said, smiling gently.

"Should I continue reading, Dajie?" Yanli asked. Yixiang nodded.

"The elders claimed that we earned it ourselves, saying we've shown how capable we are. As for Jiang Cheng not being Head Disciple, it's because the heir can't hold both titles at once. Don't worry! Lin-jie is helping and guiding me, Dajie, A-jie! She said she won't leave me alone until I can stand on my own. They also gave me a choice if I wanted to accept it, and Cheng Cheng told me to go for it if I wanted to, so I did! Are you two proud of us?! Hmn! Let's celebrate, Dajie, A-jie, when you get back, okaay?!! We love you!"

And with that, the letter ended.

Silence fell for a moment. Then Xichen smiled, Wen Qing laughed in disbelief, and Mingjue leaned back with an impressed whistle.

"Congratulations to your brothers, Jiang-guniang, A-Xiang," Xichen said warmly.

"Thank you, Xichen/Lan-gongzi," the sisters replied together.

"Please, refer to me as Yanli, Lan-gongzi. Let us drop formalities," Yanli offered with a smile. "Same to you, Nie-gongzi."

"Then that would be fine. Please, call us by our names too," both Mingjue and Xichen nodded.

"If we're dropping formalities, please call me Qing, as you wish," Wen Qing smiled. "Congratulations to your little brothers," she said, nodding toward Yanli and Yixiang, who returned the gesture with a bow.

"Then you may also call us by our names," Yanli replied warmly.

After their agreement to drop formalities and their exchange of congratulations and thanks, an idea suddenly lit up in Mingjue's mind. He suddenly leaned forward, eyes gleaming.

"Why don't we celebrate your brothers' achievements?" He leaned forward, his brows wiggling with mischief. "I have a plan."

None of them knew what to feel as a mischievous smile appeared on his lips.

Yixiang narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "You have that look, Mingjue. What are you planning?"

He grinned wider. "You'll see."

"It won't hurt to celebrate," Xichen said lightly, trying not to laugh. "Let's just keep it… moderate, orderly. at least, in theory..."

Yixiang shot Mingjue another warning look.

Yanli and Wen Qing exchanged glances—the former looking worried while the latter was already bracing herself for whatever was to come.

Because when Nie Mingjue said celebration, it rarely ended moderately.

Chapter Text

They didn't know how they ended up in this situation. It wasn't part of their plan—nor did they expect it. You could say they had , anticipated trouble, but certainly not this much.

Wei Yixiang glared at the ground, gritting her teeth as the discipline ruler struck her back. Each hit stung sharply, echoing through the silent courtyard. Beside her, Wen Qing gripped her skirt tightly, her gaze unwavering and cold. Not a single sound escaped her lips.

Jiang Yanli, kneeling nearby, could only watch, her hands trembling in her lap. She hadn't received any strokes from the discipline ruler. Wei Yixiang had taken hers, knowing Yanli wasn’t physically strong enough to endure it.

Nie Mingjue muttered curses under his breath, his jaw clenched, while Lan Xichen kept his eyes shut tightly, as though that might lessen the sting of the punishment.

"Language, Nie-gongzi," a senior Lan disciple warned, swinging the discipline ruler again with precise restraint.

How did it come to this again?

After Mingjue told them he had a plan, none of them knew what kind of plan it was. Still, they followed him, something they already suspected was a bad idea.

"What are these for, Mingjue?" Yixiang asked, staring at the basket in her hands, filled with food. In his own hand, Mingjue held another basket—its contents still a mystery. Yanli carried a picnic mat, while A-Qing had her own basket of food, and Xichen... was holding a basket of fruits?

"For our celebration," Mingjue replied with a smirk.

"Why don't we buy a present for both Jiang-gongzi and Wei-gongzi as congratulations too?" Xichen suggested, ever the voice of reason.

They all agreed, so they decided to split up—though not before asking about Wei Ying and Jiang Cheng’s likes and interests.

"Wait," A-Qing stopped them mid-step, her brow furrowed. "How are we supposed to buy gifts if we don’t even know what kind of things they like?"

"Point taken," Xichen said with a small smile, turning to the two sisters for answers.

Yanli and Yixiang exchanged a knowing look.

"Wei Ying…" Yixiang began, "he loves cultivating and experimenting with anything that piques his curiosity. He's not afraid to try new things, or do the strangest ones, just to satisfy his mind."

Yanli giggled softly. "He mostly experiments with talismans. I'd say he really likes creating them."

That surprised the other three. Talismans weren't an easy subject, and to casually experiment and craft one was far from simple. To think that someone so young could already do it was... astonishing.

"Music," Yanli continued. "A-Ying likes following Dajie around, so when Dajie excelled in music, he followed right after. He’s especially good at the dizi."

Yixiang couldn't help but smile, pride flickering in her eyes.

"Wei Ying likes food. Especially spicy food, the kind no one else can handle. It's his own fault, really. He developed that taste when we were kids." She sighed softly. "A-Ying is a free and playful soul. He loves wandering wherever he can and is always teasing everyone around him. He's fond of animals too—well, not dogs, at least before. But I think he's comfortable with them now."

"A-Ying isn:t afraid to learn new things," Yanli added with a gentle smile. "But his curiosity leans more toward the philosophical. That kid likes to question almost everything, which sometimes worries us. He's restless and can't sit still even for a minute, but when it truly matters, he knows how to follow rules."

"That's all we can say about A-Ying. There's more, but I think that’s enough," Yixiang said, crossing her arms. "As for A-Cheng… he shares similar interests with A-Ying when it comes to cultivation and martial arts. He might not admit it, but A-Cheng is strongly attached to the color purple and the lotus."

"Given, his sect's color and symbol are purple and lotus," Wen Qing remarked, and Yixiang smiled in agreement.

"A-Cheng also likes dogs. He eats well—just as much as A-Ying does, though not with the same level of spice A-Ying can handle. He’s fond of weapons and likes to train a lot with his brother," Yanli added.

"That kid isn't very vocal about his likes and wants," Yixiang continued. "He’s spoiled, but not actually spoiled. He's got attitude, temper, and he's easily angered, but he's a good kid. Caring, even. He prefers the solitude of being alone most of the time, but with A-Ying around, I don't think he ever really gets to have that."

The five of them chuckled at her words.

"Secretly, A-Cheng likes beautiful things," Yanli said, making Yixiang smile.

"He's undoubtedly in denial about a lot of things. Sometimes he doesn't allow himself to be free or to enjoy them. We can't say why, but anything meaningful and beautiful means a lot to him," Yixiang added softly. "Even A-Ying."

"Hmn. It doesn't have to be something expensive—just something that comes from the heart, given with pure intention, is already enough." Yanli's last words seemed to assure the three of them.

"You two really have a way with words," Wen Qing smiled.

Yanli gently nudged Yixiang. "Well, I learned from the best."

That made Yixiang chuckle. "You humble me, A-Li."

The exchange between the two sisters made the other three miss their own siblings.

It wasn't as though Xichen hadn't seen his little brother recently, but A-Zhan was an aloof child—always calm, impassive, and rarely showing emotion. Huaisang, on the other hand, was timid. He was supposed to come with Mingjue this year, but the younger Nie had managed to find an excuse not to attend, leaving Mingjue to come alone.

As for Wen Qing, her thoughts lingered on her younger brother, Wen Ning, a shy boy who stuttered and gets flustered easily. She had worried about leaving him behind to attend the Guest Lecture, but she knew their parents would never let anything happen to A-Ning.

"Alright," Mingjue grumbled, snapping everyone back to the moment. "Let's all go now." He turned on his heel and began walking away to buy gifts for A-Ying and A-Cheng.

The four exchanged a look, small smiles tugging at their lips, before parting ways. None of them realized how long it would take to find suitable gifts for the two boys, and worse, no one mentioned where or when they'd meet afterward.

Nie Mingjue sighed as he looked around, scanning the crowded street in frustration, hoping to spot even a glimpse of his friends. He'd been standing there for what felt like decades, waiting to cross paths with one of them—but no one came.

Vendors and locals in Caiyi Town couldn't help but glance at him. Who wouldn't? A tall, broad-shouldered, grumpy young man, clearly armed, standing stiffly at the side of a meat bun stall like a lost guard dog.

The elderly woman running the stall gave him a few curious looks before finally approaching him, a polite smile on her face.

"Gongzi," she greeted kindly. "Would you like to have this?" She held out a small paper bag of freshly steamed meat buns.

Mngjue blinked at the bag, then at her, then back at the buns, then up again—completely bewildered. The woman chuckled softly at his hesitation. Without waiting for him to respond, she gently took his hand and placed the bag in it.

"You've been standing here for a long time, kid," she said warmly. "I don't know if you're waiting for someone or just thinking about buying something—but here, have one."

Only when the woman was already heading back to her stall did Mingjue snap back to reality. His eye twitched, and he quickly fumbled for his pouch, pulling out a few silver coins.

"H-here, madam. Thank you!" he blurted, pressing the payment into her hand before hurrying away with whatever dignity he had left.

"Dang it," he muttered under his breath, glancing around once more. "Where are they?"

"A-Jue?" To his relief, Mingjue heard Xichen’s voice behind him.

"Finally." He turned, seeing his best friend with Wen Qing beside him.

"What happened?" Xichen asked.

"Nothing," Mingjue grumbled, crossing his arms.

Before anything else could be said, Jiang Yanli and Wei Yixiang appeared, walking toward them.

"Well, that worked out. We've been looking for you all," Yixiang said, slightly breathless. "We forgot to mention where we would meet afterward."

That earned a round of chuckles.

"Did everyone already buy their gifts?" Xichen asked. The others nodded. He turned to Mingjue. "Then what's next, A-Jue?"

Mingjue's plan sparked back to life in his mind. "Follow me." They started walking, letting him lead the way. After some time, Yixiang groaned, grabbing a bamboo stalk for support.

"Where are we going, Mingjue? I should've brought my sword so we could just fly." She sighed and shook her head, clearly tired.

"We're close," he reassured her.

When they finally reached the back hills, Xichen's eyes widened in disbelief. "A-Jue?"

The three women looked around curiously.

"I know, I know," Mingjue said quickly. "Calm down. This is why we came through the back instead of the usual path inside the Cloud Recesses. No one will catch us here." He grinned mischievously.

Xichen didn't know whether to laugh or scold him. But he did neither.

"Come on. It's not like we're doing anything illegal." Mingjue took the picnic mat from Yanli's hands and spread it out. Xichen sighed but helped him set it down. Soon, everyone unpacked the food. "Alright! This is a feast!" Mingjue declared—before pulling out several bottles of Emperor's Smile.

Yixiang pointed at them with her chopsticks, horrified. "That's definitely illegal here. You're a big idiot, Mingjue."

He only laughed. "I'm just curious! It's not like we'll get ourselves drunk."

If only they knew how wrong that was.

Minutes later, chaos reigned.

"Xichen!" Yixiang and Mingjue, now tipsy, chased after a laughing Xichen as he darted between bamboo trees. He had just written his brother's name on a wall and took off singing at the top of his lungs.

"Shit, A-Xiang, get him!" Mingjue roared.

"Idiot! You get him!" she shouted back, but both of them kept chasing him anyway.

Wen Qing rolled her eyes, utterly done with all of them, while Yanli had already fallen asleep on her lap—completely knocked out. Xichen suddenly stopped, pulling out a blank talisman paper. Yixiang and Mingjue froze, exchanging a wary glance.

"What's that?" she mouthed.

Mingjue shrugged, clueless.

When Xichen lifted the talisman, their blood ran cold. The characters drawn on it were unmistakable.

"Wait—no, no, NO—" Before they could stop him, Xichen threw the talisman and activated it.

"Explosion?! Mingjue! Pull him away—Wen Qing, cover!" Yixiang yelled.

They scrambled for cover, and for the first time ever, Cloud Recesses was not peaceful. The explosion wasn't massive, but it was loud enough to shake the hill and alert every senior disciple within range.

And that was how, of course, they got caught.

"This is your fault, Mingjue." Yixiang sighed.

"You agreed," he shot back.

"Alcohol was never part of the plan," she muttered under her breath.

"You drank."

"A single cup."

"Heh…"

She turned to glare at him sharply—only to wince when the final stroke of the discipline ruler landed a bit harder than the rest.

"Ugh…"

Mingjue immediately faced the Lan disciple wielding the ruler. "You're supposed to discipline, not kill. Control your strength," he grumbled.

The disciple bowed low, embarrassed. "Apologies."

He cleared his throat, then continued reading the punishment notice. "Grandmaster Lan decrees that all five of you are to copy the Lan Clan Rules ten times and write five reflection letters. You are also to spend several days in seclusion for repentance. During that time, you are excused from classes, but lecture materials will still be sent to you."

"No expulsion?" Yixiang asked hopefully.

The disciple shook his head. "No. The explosion was caused by Lan-gongzi himself—a heavier offense than drinking within Cloud Recesses. You five violated numerous rules in a single day. Grandmaster Lan wishes for you all to reflect." He bowed and left, followed by the others.

"Hah…" Yixiang exhaled, slumping slightly.

"Good thing I come from a family of healers," Wen Qing said with a snicker.

"You're injured too," Mingjue pointed out.

"Not as much as you are," she retorted, rolling her eyes. She handed a small pouch to Yanli. "We should head to the infirmary." Xichen nodded faintly in agreement.

"Are you alright, Xichen?" Yixiang asked softly. "Sorry… you got dragged into—"

Xichen chuckled. "No need to apologize, A-Xiang. I agreed to it. None of us are to blame, we're all part of this mess."

A quiet laugh rippled through the group. Despite the sting on their backs and the weight of their punishment, the shared moment of absurdity drew smiles from each of them. They helped one another stand, brushed off dust, and made their way toward the Medical Wing.

As soon as they entered, Lan Daifu was already waiting—with a glare that could kill.

Her sharp gaze swept from Yixiang's right hand to each of their faces.

"Next time, I better not see any of you here again. Understood?"

Mingjue smirked. "Sure, Lan Daifu. Your message is well receiv—ow!" The elder woman smacked the back of his head before he could finish.

"Don't look so smug. I'm giving you all a strict diet and a list of recovery tasks before your seven days of seclusion. Don't ever repeat what happened yesterday."

"Yes, Lan Daifu," they chorused meekly.

Yanli remained quietly helpful at the side—occasionally assisting the doctor or tending to one of her friends when needed.

“All of you are good to go,” the doctor finally said, handing out ointments and small bottles of herbal tonic. “Apply this every night. Don’t strain your backs. Go, go!”

Yixiang’s lips twitched into a small, weary smile as the group finally left the Medical Wing.

The five of them split paths—each heading toward their own dorms. But before Yixiang could even take ten steps, a Lan disciple approached and bowed.

"Please follow me. Grandmaster Lan has prepared your seclusion quarters."

They were led through quiet, winding paths in Cloud Recesses, the moonlight guiding their way until they arrived at an unfamiliar courtyard enclosed by high white walls.

Yixiang looked around, blinking. How amazing, she thought. Even their place for repentance feels peaceful.

The disciple placed a few books, a brush, and sheets of paper on the low table. "Tomorrow, your lessons will be brought here," he said, bowing slightly.

Yixiang turned to him, a thought crossing her mind. "Can you bring me a guqin and my sword?"

The disciple frowned. "You're not allowed to play yet." His gaze drifted to her bandaged right hand.

"And neither am I allowed to write," she replied calmly. "Don't worry. I plan to train my left hand instead."

He blinked, momentarily speechless. His eyes lowered to her left hand before he gave a reluctant nod. "Alright. I will inform Grandmaster Lan."

Yixiang nodded, watching him as he disappeared through the doorway. The door slid shut with a muted thud, leaving behind the gentle hush of evening.

She exhaled softly and turned to look around her new confinement.

The room was exactly what she expected from Gusu Lan—restrained, serene, and impossibly neat. Wooden walls polished to a soft sheen, sheer white curtains shifting with the wind, a modest table by the window, a bed folded to perfect symmetry, and a small cabinet that looked untouched for decades. The air that slipped through the window carried the faint scent of pine and mountain mist.

It was quiet. Peaceful, even.

She stepped closer to the window and brushed her fingers against the curtain's edge. The breeze whispered through the silk. "Huh," she murmured to herself. "Meditating here wouldn't be too bad."

Letting the curtain fall, she sat by the table and began arranging the items neatly—stacking papers, aligning brushes, and placing the inkstone dead center.

Finally, she dipped her brush in ink and took a deep breath.

Her left hand trembled. The first stroke was uneven, the second blotched, and by the third she nearly snapped the brush in frustration. But she stopped herself, inhaled deeply, and steadied her wrist.

The ink bled. The characters were shaky and smudged—but she continued.

Line by line, stroke by stroke, she wrote until her wrist began to ache. The writing was messy, yet with every new page, her control improved. Each character grew sharper, steadier, more confident.

By the time the sun had begun to set beyond the hills, painting her room in amber light, Yixiang leaned back and smiled faintly. Her last line looked almost… graceful.

She closed the inkstone, set her brush aside, and rose to shut the window. The evening breeze brushed her hair as the room dimmed.

For the first time since their punishment, she allowed herself a small, content sigh. "Not bad for day one," she whispered.

The next morning, Yixiang woke at Mao Shi—just as the first light brushed across the mountains. She spent her early hours in meditation, her breath steady, her focus anchored deep within her core. The quiet was serene, only broken when a soft knock came from the door.

With a slow exhale, she opened her eyes. For a moment, she simply stared at the door, letting herself return from her meditative state before she rose, donned her outer robe, and went to answer it.

It was the same disciple from the previous night.

He was carrying a guqin in his arms. Behind him stood two other Lan disciples—one holding her sword, the other carrying stacks of books, paper, and fresh ink.

"Here," the disciple said, bowing slightly. "How are you faring, Wei-guniang?"

"I am well," she replied simply.

"That is good to hear." The three disciples returned her bow. "We will take our leave now."

Once again, Yixiang watched as they disappeared beyond the doorway. When the door slid shut, her gaze fell upon the guqin resting in its case. A faint smile tugged at her lips.

And so, she began practicing. Slowly, carefully, training her left hand to play what her right could temporarily not manage.

The following days fell into rhythm. Mornings spent in meditation, afternoons in quiet study, evenings with the guqin or her sword. When she wasn't copying the Lan clan rules or writing her reflections, she was reading the lectures delivered to her daily.

Sometimes, she wondered how the other four were doing. Especially Yanli. Before their seclusion, she had taught her younger sister a particular meditation technique, one that could help strengthen her fragile core. She hoped Yanli was following it.

It amused her how, each day, when the disciples came to deliver her lessons or bring new ink and paper, they would glance at her abdomen in visible surprise. She knew why. Her core was growing stronger. Day by day, she could feel it—steady, bright, unwavering.

When their seclusion finally ended, they were sent back to their dorms. And the next morning, they will resume to their classes.

Yixiang had never realized how much she missed people until then. The silence of seclusion had been peaceful, but too peaceful—sterile, even. She longed for familiar voices again.

"A-Li," she called softly.

"Dajie!"

Yanli's bright voice filled the air as she ran toward her sister. Yixiang immediately opened her arms, embracing her tightly.

"How was your seclusion?" Yixiang asked, pulling back to look at her.

"It was fine," Yanli said with a smile, one that glowed differently now. Yixiang blinked.

"You…" she trailed off. Yanli looked livelier, her complexion clearer, her eyes bright. "You've improved," Yixiang murmured in disbelief. She had always known Yanli's health was fragile, her cultivation weak since birth.

"I spent my time mostly meditating, Dajie," Yanli said shyly.

Yixiang's eyes widened. "A-Li!" She took her sister's wrist and sent her spiritual energy gently through her meridians. Her breath caught. "It's stronger. Your core—it's better than before."

Yanlis smile trembled. "I followed your instructions. And the Lan disciples who brought our lessons… they helped me too.” Her eyes glistened. "Dajie, do you think I—"

Yixiang shook her head gently and smiled. "Not yet, A-Li. You can start with the basics, though. But promise me—make meditation your morning habit."

"Yes, Dajie."

When they left their dorm, the Yunmeng Jiang disciples spotted them—and the courtyard erupted in cheerful cries.

"Jiang-guniang! Dajie!" a girl exclaimed before throwing her arms around Yixiang. She laughed, patting the disciple's back.

"Calm down, calm down—we're back now."

"Where were you?!" another cried, joining the hug.

"In seclusion," Yanli laughed softly.

The disciples suddenly froze, eyes widening as they turned toward her. Then one gasped.

"Jiang-guniang! You're—" Yixiang hushed her quickly and nodded with a knowing smile.

"Oh my! Congratulations, Jiang-guniang!" the disciples cheered, visibly elated for their second young lady.

"Thank you," Yanli said, bowing politely, her cheeks glowing with warmth.

"How about going down to the town?" Yixiang suggested with a grin.

The cheer that erupted in response was almost deafening. But Yixiang immediately silenced them, not wanting to get punished once again. The disciples agreed eagerly, gathering their things and heading for the gate.

As they approached the entrance, Yixiang caught sight of Lan Xichen. She smiled, pointed to her group of excited Jiang disciples, and gave him a playful wink before waving. He chuckled softly, returning the gesture with a nod.

Even from afar, she could sense it—Xichen's cultivation had grown stronger.

And she had a feeling they all had.

Chapter Text

Yixiang blocked Mingjue's attack and countered with a swift kick to his abdomen, sending him leaping backward. Twirling gracefully on her feet, she leapt and launched an attack toward Lan Xichen. Though her reflexes were lightning-fast, Xichen moved just in time to evade her sudden strike. Mingjue reappeared behind him, but Xichen countered with a swift kick toward Yixiang while simultaneously deflecting Mingjue's follow-up.

They were currently training in the field. The three of them moved with seamless coordination across the training field, a whirlwind of precision and power. Wen Qing and Yanli watched from the sidelines. A-Qing, absorbed in a medical book, occasionally lifted her gaze to follow the action, while Yanli, as usual, smiled with quiet delight at the display.

It wasn't only the two of them who were watching. Other disciples, drawn by the sounds of clashing energy, had gathered around. All three fighters were perfectly matched, and the crowd was captivated—not only by Mingjue and Xichen, the two top young masters, but also by Yixiang's surprising skill and speed, keeping pace with them effortlessly.

Yixiang upheld her formidable reputation.

Many had wondered: if she were a man, would she be listed among the top young masters too? Not that she needed the recognition—she was already undisputedly the number one among the young ladies in Jianghu.

Her accomplishments spoke for themselves. A self-taught cultivator, Yixiang had formed her own golden core without a master, relying solely on the texts from the nearly abandoned library on Yiling. She was a strong, capable fighter, having led night hunts and accomplished missions deemed too dangerous for most. Her name had become familiar in clans and towns alike, whispered among vendors and townspeople for her willingness to help without expecting anything in return.

And beyond her skill, she had a reputation that once spread like wildfire. A doting and protective elder sister. She didn't know exactly how it started, but she had heard the rumors about her.

"She got angry at Madam Jiang after what happened with Wei Gongzi, Jiang Gongzi, and Jiang Guniang," someone whispered.

"An angry Wei Yixiang? Unheard of."

"Her anger echoed across Yunmeng."

"She's so protective of her little siblings."

"And doting too!"

The rumors traveled fast, eventually spreading beyond Yunmeng to other towns. Yixiang felt a chill run up her spine at the exaggerations—half of it true, half stretched beyond reality. She silently prayed Yu Ziyuan wouldn't pick up on her

Fortunately, the woman avoided her entirely, giving Yixiang a measure of relief.

"You're really great, A-Xiang," Mingjue huffed, eyeing the blade pointed at his neck. He was sitting on the ground, Baxia lying beside him in defeat.

"You're truly one of the strongest cultivators I've met, A-Xiang," Xichen added with a gentle smile—though his own sword was still leveled at her.

Yixiang chuckled softly. "I don't think I can consider myself one of the strongest with the two of you here."

The three of them laughed, the tension of battle dissolving into camaraderie. Yixiang twirled her wrist and swung Hengren in a smooth arc before sheathing it. She was still fighting with her left hand—her right had yet to heal fully. Lan Daifu had strictly forbidden her from using it until it fully recovered.

"Your memory is astounding," Mingjue said as he stood, grunting slightly.

"You pick things up so quickly," Xichen agreed.

"Stop feeding me praises, Nie-gongzi, Lan-gongzi," Yixiang replied with a teasing laugh, earning smiles from both men.

They had been training together for hours—perhaps longer. Yixiang had long since mastered the Yunmeng Jiang sword form and style, so when Xichen offered to teach her the Gusu Lan techniques, she accepted immediately. Much to her delight, Mingjue had then offered to instruct her in the Qinghe Nie sword form as well.

It hadn't taken her long to adapt. Though she stumbled once or twice at first, by the third or fourth attempt she was executing the forms fluidly.

"Can't help but admire you," Xichen said, sheathing Shuoyue. "It's impressive how quickly you've mastered fighting with your left hand."

"I agree," Mingjue said, settling back down and resting his arm on his knee. "Most people would need months to make their non-dominant hand function like their dominant one, but you managed it in just a week."

"You can do dual sword cultivation, Xiang-jie," Wen Qing suddenly said, closing her book as she looked up at them.

"Dual sword... cultivation?" Yanli asked slowly, brows furrowing in confusion. She had never heard of such a thing before.

"I know it's unheard of," Wen Qing continued, "but it’s not entirely impossible. After all, the Yunmeng Jiang motto is to attempt the impossible." A small, knowing smile tugged at her lips. "It's just a theory, but if it's Xiang-jie, I think it could work."

"A-Qing is correct," Xichen said with his usual calm warmth, also considering Wen Qing's theory. "A-Xiang has trained both hands to function as dominant. Once your right hand heals, you'll resume using it, but your left hand's memory won't fade. It's a rare advantage."

Mingjue crossed his arms, nodding in agreement. "If you're going to try it, you'll have to start practicing wielding two swords at once."

Yixiang blinked, momentarily stunned. She wasn't a dumb person, but right now she felt like one. That kind of idea had never even crossed her mind. She'd only trained her left hand out of necessity—she never intended to change her entire cultivation path. But... the more she thought about it, the more tempting the idea became.

"But... isn't that difficult?" Yanli asked, tilting her head. "Aren't sword forms designed for a single weapon?"

"That's one of the things we'll need to consider," Xichen replied, a spark of intrigue glinting in his eyes. "Unless, of course... someone were to create a dual-handed sword form." His lips curved in quiet amusement at the thought.

Wen Qing added smoothly, "And energy consumption, too. Dual swords would require two spiritual weapons, it'll take an immense amount of spiritual energy to balance them."

Yixiang let out a light laugh. "You all didn't even let me speak." The four turned their eyes to her. She sighed with a smile. "Alright, fine. I admit I'm tempted. And I'd love to try it." Her tone grew playful. "It's not like I'll lose anything from attempting it, right?"

"Nothing much," Mingjue said with a smirk. "Just another Jiang attempting the impossible."

That made everyone laugh.

"As long as you all help me," Yixiang added with mock severity, "it was your idea after all."

Mingjue arched a brow. "Are you challenging us?"

Yixiang's grin widened. "Who says I'm challenging anyone?"

Their group erupted in minimal laughter 

It was already Wu Shi, and everyone was gathered in the Dining Hall. Supposedly, each clan should be sitting in their respective places... but—

Yixiang calmly picked up her food and ate as she sat across Grandmaster Lan. Beside him sat Xichen, and on Xichen’s other side was his little brother, Lan Zhan.

The kid had an impassive face, his back perfectly straight, his posture impeccable. Every movement he made was graceful, almost practiced. It wasn't her first time meeting him, Xichen had introduced him to her and Mingjue before—but even now, she couldn't help but be mesmerized by his golden eyes. They were beautiful. The kid himself was beautiful.

Yixiang knew how aloof and silent he was. Lan Zhan was the complete opposite of his elder brother. He rarely spoke, often glared, and usually wore that same emotionless expression—but undeniably, he was a sharp and intelligent child.

He reminded her of her little brother, Wei Ying—though only in age, not in personality. Wei Ying was everything Lan Zhan was not. If those two were ever placed in the same room, it would be fire and ice clashing head-on.

Beside Yixiang sat Mingjue, and on her other side was Yanli. Wen Qing was seated next to Yanli. All of them sat at one table—and it was, to put it mildly, awkward.

Once again, one would wonder how they ended up sitting at the Lan table of all places.

When they entered the Dining Hall, they were about to separate and sit with their respective clans. However, Grandmaster Lan had suddenly spoken.

"Xichen," the old man said, his tone calm yet firm. "Invite your friends to join your table."

Lan Xichen's eyes flicked toward them before he inclined his head respectfully. "Please, join us," he said gently.

It was Grandmaster Lan himself who had extended the invitation, and a direct offer from him was not something they can refuse. The etiquette was unspoken but clear—politeness and respect meant accepting.

So, after a brief exchange of nervous glances, the four of them approached and took their seats, doing their best to act with proper manners.

Silence fell over them.

Not that they'd expected anything else. This was the Lan table, after all.

Yixiang nudged Mingjue when she noticed him awkwardly spit out a vegetable. He didn't do it rudely—he simply plucked it out from his mouth and set it down quietly. Thankfully, it didn't seem like any of the Lans noticed.

Mingjue raised a brow at her. Yixiang widened her eyes in warning, glancing meaningfully at the discarded vegetable before looking back at him.

Mingjue just shrugged and smirked.

Idiot, she thought, biting back a laugh.

After they had all finished eating, no one spoke. Silence hung thick and unmoving over their table—until Xichen finally decided to break it.

"Shufu…" Xichen began.

Grandmaster Lan hummed quietly, his fingers stroking his goatee as his gaze stayed forward. His posture was as straight and composed as ever.

Yixiang didn't back down. She calmly met his gaze across the table, her eyes steady and unflinching.

"What is it, Xichen?" Lan Qiren finally asked, turning his attention to his nephew.

"We…" Xichen looked at the four beside him and smiled faintly. "We would like to take a spiritual oath, and swear siblinghood, Shufu."

Though gossip was forbidden within Cloud Recesses, the nearby disciples who overheard couldn't help the flicker of surprise that crossed their faces.

Even the four of them were taken aback. Xichen had spoken about the idea of sworn siblinghood before with her and Mingjue, but they had not yet discussed it with A-Li and A-Qing. Still, from the way both young women looked—soft smiles and warm eyes—Yixiang could tell the idea wasn't unwelcome.

Slowly, Yixiang stood up, her movements graceful yet resolute. She bowed respectfully.

"We understand it is sudden, Grandmaster Lan," she began. Her tone was calm but sincere. "While I know that, during our short time here, we have caused more trouble than peace—" Lan Qiren gave a quiet cough. "—we will not deny how strong a bond we have formed in our time together," Yixiang continued with a small, knowing smile. "Though I must admit, A-Li and A-Qing were unaware of this plan and were only to be told later. We do not yet know their thoughts on the matter, and it is right that they speak for themselves."

That was their cue. Yanli and Wen Qing both rose from their seats and bowed politely, soft smiles gracing their lips.

"Dajie's words are true," Yanli said, her voice warm yet firm. "But I would also like to share my own thoughts. From the first day of the Guest Lecture, we met each other at the gates of Cloud Recesses, a mere coincidence, or so we thought. None of us knew then that the young masters and young ladies standing at that entrance, each with their disciples behind them, would grow this close or come to cherish each other so deeply. Therefore, I am not against this oath of siblinghood."

"Neither am I, Grandmaster Lan," Wen Qing followed. Her voice was steady, honest. "It's only been months, but I will not deny how much brighter my days have been with them. I would be honored to swear siblinghood with these people."

Hearing this, Nie Mingjue stood up as well. His expression softened, and a rare small smile curved his lips.

"Grandmaster Lan," he said respectfully, "we would like to ask you, and the elders, to bless this sworn siblinghood, and to allow the disciples of our respective clans to honor the ceremony with their presence as our witness."

Finally, Lan Xichen rose from his seat and bowed deeply. "Shufu," he said gently, "please."

The elder Lan regarded them one by one, his expression calm yet thoughtful, and they can see, that beneath his composure lingered a glint of approval. Jiang Yanli, daughter of a sect leade. Wen Qing, an aspiring physician and niece of the Chief Cultivator Wen Rouhan. Wei Yixiang, known across Jianghu as both a sharp mind and formidable cultivator. And Nie Mingjue, heir of Qinghe Nie—each one of them stood in front of him with quiet dignity.

Lan Qiren stroked his goatee, then gave a single approving nod. "Very well. All five of you hold high standing among the gentry clans, thus, the ceremony must be properly arranged. When you have decided on a date, inform me. I shall personally oversee and host your sworn siblinghood ceremony."

Excitement rippled silently among the five, their eyes meeting with restrained but evident joy.

Lan Qiren's gaze softened, though his tone remained firm. "The four of you," he said, looking pointedly at Mingjue, Yixiang, Yanli, and Qing, "are to call me Shufu. If you are to become sworn siblings with my nephew, then you are family."

They bowed deeply and spoke in unison, "Yes, Shufu."

Outside the dining hall, the tension finally lifted.

"That turned out well," Yixiang said with a small grin, her arms placed on her back as they walked into the path.

Xichen chuckled softly. "Apologies, did I surprise everyone?"

"Completely," Yixiang admitted. "I thought we'd talk to A-Li and A-Qing first."

Mingjue’s laughter rumbled low in his chest. "That was the plan—but plans change."

"It's alright," Wen Qing said, her tone light but sincere. "We didn't expect it, but we wanted it too. Thank you."

Yanli smiled gently. "Not once did I imagine I'd gain friends here. I'm glad I came with Dajie."

True to his word, Lan Qiren personally oversaw every preparation for the ceremony. The date was set, and it would take place within the ancestral hall of Cloud Recesses—solemn, pristine, and steeped in the weight of generations.

In the days leading up to it, the disciples from Jiang, Nie, Wen, and Lan were often seen mingling in rare harmony. It seemed as though their young masters and young ladies had become the bridge linking every clan together.

The usually tranquil Cloud Recesses now thrummed with a quiet excitement. Even the famed Three Thousand Rules of the Gusu-Lan could not fully contain it. Whispers and laughter lingered softly in courtyards and corridors—yet no reprimand came. The elders of Gusu-Lan, it seemed, were making a quiet exception… if only for a few days.

Letters had been sent. Nie Mingjue, Wei Yixiang, Jiang Yanli, and Wen Qing each writing to their families to inform them of the sworn siblinghood. And though no replies had yet arrived, they all knew that none would oppose it.

After all, this union was more than a bond of affection—it was the beginning of goodwill, a symbol of peace and alliance between their clans. Who would even deny it?

"Here's the Bridge of Five Lanterns," Zonghui announced suddenly, making himself comfortable as he sat at the table where the five of them were studying.

"Bridge of five... lanterns?" Yanli repeated, puzzled.

"Yeah. You guys really don't know what everyone calls you?" he asked, a teasing grin spreading across his face.

"Not really. Please enlighten us." Yanli said with a gentle smile.

"Nie Mingjue," he began, nodding toward his young master, "the first lantern, the one who leads. Firm as steel and unyielding in will." He chuckled. "Poetic, isn't it?"

Mingjue only rolled his eyes.

Then Zonghui turned to Lan Xichen. "Lan Xichen, the second lantern, calm and orderly. They say you are the warmth that steadies the flame."

Xichen only smiled.

His gaze shifted to Yixiang next. "Wei Yixiang, the bridge, the central lantern that binds you all together. Sharp, steadfast, and honest, a cultivator strong in her own right."

She chuckled. "I thought mine would sound a little different." She said with feign disappointment.

Yanli giggled softly beside her.

Zonghui looked to her next, his tone gentling. "Jiang Yanli, the fourth lantern, the harmony that carries you all when chaos strikes, or so they say."

Finally, he turned to Wen Qing. "And last but not least, Wen Qing, the fifth lantern, one with a healing hand and an honest heart."

A faint smile curved his lips as he looked at them all. "Bridge of Five Lanterns, because together, you five bind the four clans. Each of you carries a different light, but together, you make the night a little less dark. Or to put it more simply, though you're completely different from each other, you complement one another. And because of the five of you, the four clans will never clash because of you five."

"The last statement is an exaggeration," Yixiang pointed out, earning a nod from Xichen. "We don't hold the future. Whatever comes next is beyond our reach, and perhaps beyond our siblinghood as well."

"I must agree with Xiang-jie," A-Qing added, crossing her arms. "How did such a rumor even spread? People are really restless."

"It's not like you can control their mouths," Zonghui said lightly.

"Unless we sew them shut—" All eyes turned to Mingjue. He raised a hand in surrender. "Chill, just kidding..." A brief pause. Then, deadpan, he added, "Or probably not."

"Mingjue," both Xichen and Yixiang said in unison—Xichen's tone exasperated, Yixiang's scolding.

Nie Mingjue only laughed at them.

The auspicious day of their ceremony finally arrived.

Nie Mingjue wore a deep gray and forest-green hanfu, its layers simple yet dignified, with silver threads tracing the edges of his sleeves. Lan Xichen's robes were a calm mix of pale blue and white, flowing and elegant, embroidered with faint cloud patterns that suited his gentle demeanor.

Wei Yixiang stood out in her red and black hanfu, the inner layer dark as night and the outer robe deep crimson, tied with silver threads and subtle embroidery along the sleeves—a bold contrast to the others. Jiang Yanli wore a gentle mix of lavender and white, her hanfu adorned with delicate floral patterns that matched her graceful temperament. Wen Qing's attire was light red and white, subtle and warm, with faint designs of blooming plum blossoms across her sleeves.

All their outfits were newly made in Caiyi Town just a few days earlier. It was Yanli who convinced everyone to have new clothes made for the occasion, and with Xichen supporting her idea, the rest eventually agreed—though not without a few amused sighs.

Yixiang's right hand had finally healed, and she was starting to use it regularly again—much to the delight of the other four. The bandage that had wrapped her hand for weeks is now gone, and Yixiang doesn't feel like her hand is being suffocated anymore.

"Good to see that the bandage is now out of sight," Mingjue mused, glancing at her hand.

"It's amazing how the cut didn't leave a scar," Xichen added with a gentle smile as Yixiang lifted her hand to show them.

"Her spiritual energy probably helped with that," Wen Qing remarked, taking her hand briefly to inspect it. "You should still keep applying the ointment, though."

Yanli chuckled softly from the side. "Heard that, Dajie?"

Yixiang only grunted and nodded in acknowledgment.

Before they could continue, a servant appeared at the door. "Young Masters and Young Ladies, Grandmaster Lan is now calling for you all."

They exchanged excited looks.

"Ready?" Xichen asked, his tone warm and steady.

Laughter filled the room as they rose, walking out together with light steps and smiling faces.

The ancestral hall awaited them—solemn, bright with the scent of burning incense, and lined with watching elders and disciples. At the front stood Lan Qiren, hands clasped behind his back, his expression unreadable but dignified.

The five took their places in a straight line. Yixiang stood at the center between Xichen and Yanli. On Xichen's other side was Mingjue, and beside Yanli stod Wen Qing.

In unison, they stepped forward, stretching their arms forward and bowing low. Afte that, each one of them reached for an incense stick, and lit it up carefully. The faint trails of smoke curled upward toward the carved beams above.

Then, together, their voices rang out clear inside the ancestral hall.

"We bow before Heaven and Earth, to honor truth and sincerity. May the spirits bear witness to this bond."

The first to rise was Nie Mingjue. He stepped forward, lowering himself in a deep bow. "Today, I, Nie Mingjue, pledge my heart and spirit to my sworn siblings. May we share burdens and blessings alike, and hold no deceit between us." He placed the incense stick down with steady reverence.

Next was Lan Xichen. His voice was calm and clear, a quiet strength beneath every word. "Today, I, Lan Xichen, pledge my heart and spirit to my sworn siblings. May we share burdens and blessings alike, and hold no deceit between us." He smiled gently as he set down the incense.

Wei Yixiang followed. She rose with grace, her expression serene yet resolute. "Today, I, Wei Yixiang, pledge my heart and spirit to my sworn siblings. May we share burdens and blessings alike, and hold no deceit between us." With a steady hand, she lowered the incense stick, its smoke curling toward the altar.

Then came Jiang Yanli, her soft voice carrying like a breeze through the hall. "Today, I, Jiang Yanli, pledge my heart and spirit to my sworn siblings. May we share burdens and blessings alike, and hold no deceit between us." She moved gracefully as she placed her incense beside the others.

Lastly, Wen Qing stepped forward. Her tone was firm, her words sharp with sincerity. "Today, I, Wen Qing, pledge my heart and spirit to my sworn siblings. May we share burdens and blessings alike, and hold no deceit between us." Her voice lingered in the air, quiet but resolute, and the others couldn’t help but smile.

Afterward, each of them took up a teapot and began to pour tea for one another. Their movements were slow, deliberate—each gesture symbolic, binding their vow in ritual calm. The fragrance of the tea mingled with incense smoke as they lifted their cups in unison.

They looked ahead, meeting one another's eyes, and together, they drank. The tea was warm, simple, and unadorned, yet the gesture carried a weight that wine could not replace.

Still, Mingjue couldn't help but grumble under his breath, "Would've been better with wine."

Xichen's lips twitched in amusement. "Rules are rules," he replied smoothly.

"Rules I don't agree with," Mingjue muttered, earning a quiet laugh from Yixiang.

Wen Qing crossed her arms. "After what happened last time? Absolutely not." 

Even Yanli chuckled softly, the sound gentle and fond. 

"Take your positions on the array," Lan Qiren instructed, his tone solemn yet steady. He gestured toward the circular formation engraved into the floor. "Your names are inscribed upon these lines. Remember—once you begin, none shall betray."

Slowly, the five of them moved into place, each sitting at one of the five points etched with ancient script. The polished floor shimmered faintly with runic light, and the scent of burning incense lingered in the air. One by one, they pressed a hand to the etched lines in front of them.

The elders had explained the process in detail—how they would channel their Qi into the array, how precision and harmony were vital, and how their focus must not falter. It was a sacred formation of oath-binding, one that demanded immense concentration. Normally, such a ritual would carry risk of backlash, but with Mingjue, Xichen, and Yixiang’s cultivation strength, the elders were confident the formation would remain stable.

A faint hum filled the hall as the array came to life. Light rippled across its lines, each one with a distinct color.

Mingjue's Qi flowed like a green mist, fierce and steady, resonating with strength and earth.

Xichen's Qi shimmered like rippling water, calm yet deep with quiet power.

Yixiang's Qi emerged in a radiant white, so pure it gleamed brighter than the rest.

Yanli's Qi rippled softly in shades of lavender, a hue that's gentle, warm and harmonious.

Qing's Qi flared in vibrant rose, its energy pulsing and alive, like a heartbeat.

Each color reflected the cultivator's nature, their essence intertwined yet distinct. But when Yixiang's Qi flared, the sight drew soft murmurs from the observing elders and disciples. The elders watching couldn't help but exchange looks of awe. The purity of her spiritual energy was beyond what they had imagined—untouched and luminous, a brilliance that stood in stark contrast to the dark hues of her robes.

They exchanged a look—a silent understanding passing among them.

Together, they spoke, their voices melding into one. "Bound not by blood, but by fate and virtue. If one calls, all answers. If one suffers, all defend. May Heaven and Earth witness this bond; may our spirits never betray; may this oath remain unbroken until our last breath."

The array pulsed.

Their chant echoed through the ancestral hall like a resonant chord, vibrating in the air.

A surge of energy swept through them. Mingjue's felt wild, almost violent, like a storm testing his endurance. Xichen's was tranquil, like water weaving through stone. Yixiang's was soothing, wrapping around them with quiet grace. Yanli's was tender, her energy flowing like a comforting breeze. And Wen Qing's—hers rippled strongly, like a tide washing through their meridians, sharp but healing.

It wasn’t painful, it was cleansing.

Of course. Wen Qing's Qi was that of a healer; it instinctively sought to balance, to protect, to purge what was harmful.

 Yixiang remembered what the elders had called it—

The Thread of Resonance.

That was what the elders called it. A bond that would settle deep within their cores—not as a shackle, but as a link. It would not bind their freedom, but it would allow them to sense one another's distress, condition, to share strength, and to protect their hearts from deceit.

Yixiang exhaled slowly, sweat forming at her temple as she sent another steady wave of Qi into the formation. The light flared once more, bright enough to illuminate the entire hall, then it slowly dimmed, settling into a steady glow beneath their palms.

The ritual was complete.

Their bond—sealed by Heaven, witnessed by Earth, and written into their cores.

They did not know how long they had been channeling their qi into the array, only that it was over when the light finally faded, leaving behind drifting motes of golden dust.

Slowly, the five of them looked up. Sweat clung to their skin, but their smiles shone through the exhaustion.

Nie Mingjue was the first to rise. From his sleeve, he drew out several small pendants of dark iron.

"This is an Iron Pendant," he began, his voice firm yet reverent. "Wear it beneath your robes. It symbolizes strength, duty, and unbending will."

He took a deep breath before placing one pendant into each of their hands. "This is the same gift my father bestowed upon me when I first received my sword. Now, I entrust it to you. May it protect you in every journey and battle you face, and remind you of who you once were—before you stood where you are now. Within this pendant is also carved the symbol of my clan, let it be a token of your courage and a sign that Qinghe Nie's support shall always be yours." He paused and stepped back, "Should there come a day when I no longer recognize you, show me this pendant… and I will remember our siblinghood."

"Thank you, Dage," they said softly, almost in unison.

Lan Xichen stepped forward next, holding out the familiar jade tokens of Gusu-Lan, each delicately carved with drifting cloud patterns. His smile was serene, like water flowing over polished stone.

"These are the Jade Tokens of Gusu-Lan," he said softly. "They serve as your keys to Cloud Recesses. With these, you may enter its grounds freely—whether in search of refuge, guidance, or simply a moment of peace. Cloud Recesses will always welcome you."

He paused, his eyes gentle as they swept over his sworn siblings. "Let these tokens remind you that the Lan will forever stand as one of your homes, and that our mountain will never turn you away. Should you ever lose your path, remember—Cloud Recesses shall always remain and unmoved by time."

Yixiang closed her hands around both the Iron Pendant and Jade Token. Their weight felt strangely grounding, as though anchoring her in warmth she hadn't realized she needed. The four turned to her, their eyes full of gentle encouragement

Strange… she thought. It really feels warm.

She stepped forward, drawing from her sleeve four long crimson ribbons. "You know," she began with a soft laugh, "I wasn't quite sure what I would give when the time for exchange came. Then I remembered these."

Carefully, she handed one to each of them. "These ribbons once belonged to my mother. She used to tie them in her hair, and somehow, my brother and I inherited the habit." Her smile deepened with fondness. "Of course, you need not wear them as we do." The others chuckled quietly.

Her voice softened, steady and sincere. "These ribbons will stand as symbols of our connection, loyalty, and emotion. A reminder that in every battle, in every hardship, none of you will ever stand alone." She paused, the faint glow of her spiritual energy flickering at her fingertips. "But it isn't just sentiment. Because each ribbon carries a trace of my spiritual energy. Should danger come, it will guide us to one another."

When she stepped back, her gaze lingered on the ribbons now resting in their hands. A serene smile curved her lips as she bowed in quiet reverence.

Next, Jiang Yanli stepped forward, her smile as soft and serene as a drifting lotus upon water. From her sleeve, she drew several neatly folded handkerchiefs—lavender in hue, each delicately embroidered with a lotus bloom.

"This may not seem like much," she began, her voice calm yet filled with quiet warmth, "but I offer these handkerchiefs as my silent support, and a cloth to wipe away your tears when the world grows too heavy." Though her tone was gentle, it carried a depth of sincerity that could move even the stillest hearts.

"I stitched each one myself," she continued, "with the hope that they remind you after every ending comes a new beginning. That in every fall, there's a reason to rise again. In every setback, it is a chance to reflect and grow." Her gaze lifted, calm and resolute. "Each handkerchief bears the emblem of Lotus Pier. Let this be your token of Yunmeng-Jiang, a home that will always protect your freedom and happiness."

Finally, Wen Qing stepped forward, the last to offer her token. Her smile was small but certain, steady as the pulse of life itself.

"I may be the Chief Cultivator's niece," she began, her voice calm and clear, "but before all else, I am only a daughter of healers."

From her sleeve, she drew out several amber amulets, the gems glowing warmly under the lantern light—like captured sunlight trembling within glass.

"This Amber Amulet represents the Dafan Wen branch, our family of healers," she said, holding one in her open palm. "It symbolizes protection, fortune, and renewal. Let it remind you that it is all right to pause—to breathe, to think, to rest. You are allowed to heal, not only in the body, but in the heart and spirit as well."

Her gaze swept gently over each of them. "May this amulet connect us, and call one another whenever pain or illness should come. Let it be a quiet promise, that no matter the distance, we will help one another find our way back to strength."

Each vow they spoke, each token they offered, was more than a gift, it was a fragment of their hearts, a promise no oath could truly contain.

The witnesses stood in silent awe. None had ever seen a spiritual oath like this—save, perhaps, the elders, whose gazes lingered with quiet reverence. They alone understood the weight of what had just transpired, and though many sworn siblinghood ceremonies had graced the halls of Cloud Recesses, this one felt different—profound, radiant, and alive. To the elders of Lan, it was, without question, the greatest sworn siblinghood they've ever witnessed.

Lan Qiren stepped forward, his voice steady and dignified, echoing through the ancestral hall. "From this day forth, Heaven and Earth shall know you as one. May your hearts remain true, and your paths clear." He paused, then inclined his head slightly. "Congratulations."

The five of them straightened, lined up, and bowed. "Thank you, Shufu."

A quiet ripple of applause filled the hall.

From that day onward, the Bridge of Five Lanterns was born—its light bound not by lineage, but by the unyielding bond of hearts that chose one another.

Chapter Text

"All of you are dismissed."

All five exchanged glances as Lan-Laoshi's voice echoed through the room. Yixiang carefully began tidying her table, methodically stacking her notes, when Nie Zonghui paused in front of her.

"A-Xiang." She looked up, raising a brow.

Zonghui was Mingjue's cousin and his future right-hand man. She still didn't quite understand why he always maintained such formality, but she shrugged it off. Perhaps that's just how things worked for them. Then again, Zonghui was also part of Mingjue's sworn-siblings extended family, so she had insisted that he call her by her name, comfortably, without pretense.

The boy was initially against the idea, but with Xichen on her side, he found himself pressured into agreeing. Xichen's subtle insistence and teasing left him little room to refuse, almost as if he was being gently coerced into compliance.

Xichen is a dangerous guy, alright. She noted.

"What is it?"

"Are you free later? Can you help me with this?" He held out his notes—organized yet chaotic, as if neatness had wrestled with urgency. The layout made sense, every lesson sequenced logically, but the handwriting was messy, smudges marring some words. Still, it was perfectly readable, and surprisingly easy to follow.

"That's easy." It was all she could say, which earned a suppressed snort from Mingjue behind her.

Zonghui's face crumpled, and he rolled his eyes. "For you," he said, pointing at her, "it's easy. But for me…" He tapped his temple. "I'm dumb."

Yixiang blinked in astonishment, and he glared at her in return. She let the corner of her mouth curve upward, a teasing glint sparking in her eyes.

"Okay." Zonghui muttered, momentarily channeling Mingjue's signature grumble, "Fine, I won't ask again." He started to turn, but then shot a glance at Mingjue, who was laughing quietly behind her. "Don't laugh at me—you suck too!" he jabbed, pointing at his cousin.

Yixiang laughed outright at that, while Xichen shook his head and quietly gathered the students' papers. Wen Qing sat silently, absorbed in a book, and Yanli had begun sewing something after clearing her own space. Now, only the six of them remained in the room.

"At least I don't need help," Mingjue shot back, smirking widely.

"Enough." Yixiang raised a hand, halting the bickering. "I'll help you later, I still have music lesson with Elder Hao." She handed her work over to Xichen, who stopped by to collect it.

"Thank you, A-Xiang."

It had been two weeks since their sworn siblinghood ceremony. In that short time, it felt as if the five of them—and their fellow disciples—had grown closer. Beyond the camaraderie, something had subtly shifted in their routines. They were often found together in the library, poring over books, or enjoying the lively streets of Caiyi Town during their free time. Occasionally, they appeared at the training field, though more often it was just Mingjue, Xichen, and Yixiang practicing together.

Their ways of addressing each other had changed slightly, too, though they were still adjusting. They now called Mingjue Da-ge and Xichen Er-ge, while Yixiang remained Da-jie and Yanli Er-jie. Wen Qing, however, was teasingly called Xiao-mei. Their youngest disliked it at first but had eventually grown used to it. Of course, there were still times when they reverted to their old forms of address, out of habit or comfort.

"I'll meet everyone at the library later," Yixiang rose gracefully from her seat. "I'm off to my lesson with Elder Hao." She gave a small wave and gathered her belongings.

Xichen wished her good luck, and Yanli's gentle voice reminded her to enjoy the lesson. Wen Qing merely nodded with a wave, while the grumpy Mingjue grunted, shooing her along with a flick of his hand. Yixiang almost rolled her eyes at that.

Stepping out of the lecture room, she made her way down the silent halls of Cloud Recesses toward the music hall, where Elder Hao was waiting.

Ever since her sworn siblinghood with Xichen, her request to study musical cultivation had been approved. This was her fourth session with the Lan elder, who had proudly declared himself her master and her as his only disciple in the art of musical cultivation.

Technically, Elder Lan Qiren was also supposed to instruct her, but Lan Hao had been more than delighted to take on the responsibility himself. Though Yixiang was officially a Jiang disciple, in terms of musical cultivation, she was now considered Lan Hao's pupil.  Her uncle, Jiang Fengmian, had no objections either.

As a result, she found herself learning more than just the pieces she had requested. Every lesson seemed to offer new challenges and techniques, and she welcomed it eagerly.

If she could, she would probably be bouncing on her feet all the way to the music hall, her excitement barely contained.

"You're here." Elder Hao greeted her.

The elder sat in the center of the room, a guqin laid carefully on the table before him. Around the music hall, various instruments were displayed, their polished surfaces catching the sunlight streaming through the open windows. The gentle rustle of air brushing against the grass outside drifted into the room, lending a calm serenity to the lesson space.

Yixiang stepped forward, hands brought together, and bowed deeply. "This disciple has arrived, Elder Hao." She straightened gracefully and offered a small, respectful smile.

The elder nodded approvingly, then gestured toward the table in front of him. Without hesitation, Yixiang moved to sit and surveyed the guqin placed there.

"You have mastered many instruments, A-Xiang," Elder Hao began. "You have learned much from your extra music classes with Qiren and from our lessons in musical cultivation." He adjusted his sleeves with care and placed a finger lightly on a string. "You should be ready to learn inquiry."

Yixiang suppressed a small celebratory urge, settling instead for a modest smile and a respectful incline of her head. "This disciple is ready to learn, Lan-Laoshi." Elder Hao returned her smile warmly.

"Let us begin with the Qin Language."

Time slipped by almost unnoticed. Yixiang became so absorbed in the lesson that when the gentle chime of a bell announced lunchtime, she was startled to realize how long they had been at it. 

Elder Hao nodded at her with quiet approval. "You are a quick learner," he said as he rose. Yixiang followed suit, and together they returned the guqins to their proper places.

Stepping back, she allowed Elder Hao to leave the hall first, following slowly behind. Her hands were folded in front of her, and her sword was absent, tucked away, since there was no need for it right now.

"Thank you, Lan-Laoshi," she said softly.

"Practice what I have taught you," Elder Hao instructed, "and play a note of inquiry before me in our next meeting."

Yixiang bowed once more, a bright smile gracing her features. "I will take note of that, Elder Hao."

She straightened her back as the elder joined the table of the Lan elders, and she, in turn, returned to the table of the Jiang disciples, her mind already replaying the delicate, measured notes of the guqin in her thoughts.

She sat down beside Yanli.

"Dajie," they greeted, cheeky smiles lighting their faces.

Yixiang couldn't help but let out a soft laugh, just enough for everyone at the table to hear. She stopped Yanli, who was about to serve her some food, and reached for it herself instead.

"How was your music class with Elder Hao, Dajie?" Yanli asked gently.

"It went well." Yixiang popped a piece of vegetable into her mouth, chewed, and swallowed before continuing. "Elder Hao is a patient teacher, and I learned a lot as usual. Today, he started teaching me the Qin Language."

The disciples' eyes widened, sparkling with interest. "Wow—" She quickly hushed them before any more noise could escape.

"Well, I'm sure Dajie can pick it up easily," one disciple said.

"Dajie's a quick learner, it won't be that hard for her," another added.

Yixiang held up her hand to stop them.

"Not really," she said, straightening her back. "It's difficult. Maybe I have a good memory, but that doesn't make it easy. Learning requires patience and a step-by-step process." She let out a light chuckle. "All of you should tone it down—or you might get punished."

They all pouted, but one of them whispered, "Lying is forbidden—we're not lying, though."

"Shh," Yixiang hushed them again, making Yanli giggle quietly beside her.

After lunch, everyone went their separate ways while Yixiang and Yanli rejoined their small group. Yixiang walked between Xichen and Mingjue, while Wen Qing and Yanli strolled a little ahead of them, deep in a discussion about herbs.

"Monkshood is poisonous," their Xiao-mei explained. "Every part of it—especially the roots and seeds. Some warriors use it as poison on their blades, mostly spears and arrows." Qing closed her book as she spoke.

"Then what's the antidote for it?" Yanli asked.

"There is no antidote," Qing replied simply, shaking her head.

Yixiang, Mingjue, and Xichen exchanged a look, small smiles tugging at their lips. Among the five of them, Yanli and Qing were always the most invested when it came to herbs and medicine. Yanli leaned more toward cooking, herbal teas, and simpler medicinal remedies, but her interest remained just as earnest.

Yanli had even started training with her sword recently. After her frequent meditations, her core had begun to improve. Qing had given her something to drink for her core—Yixiang couldn't remember the name, but it seemed effective. Yanli had been born weak and fragile, and when she first formed her core, it was unstable, and attempting to refine it had put a heavy strain on her body.

That was why, after their week of seclusion, when Yanli's core had grown even a little, her body quickly became exhausted. The entire group noticed, and Xichen immediately had her examined by Lan-daifu. Yanli was then placed under strict monitoring—until Wen Qing suddenly produced an elixir, explaining that it would help stabilize her.

Of course, the elixir was inspected by Lan-daifu first. Only after she confirmed it was safe did Yanli drink it.

Whatever Qing gave Yanli worked wonders. Yixiang could see the difference because Yanli's steps were steadier, her complexion clearer, and her spiritual energy stronger than before. She could see the significant improvement in her little sister with each passing day.

She couldn't help but beam at the sight of the Clarity Bells they were all wearing. The purple bell resting against Xichen's light blue and white robes stood out beautifully—an elegant contrast that was almost poetic to look at.

"Dajie? Why did none of you give a Clarity Bell as an exchange gift?" Li Fei asked her after the ceremony had ended.

Around them, everyone was speaking in hushed excitement, celebrating as calmly as Cloud Recesses allowed. Congratulations drifted from group to group, and they accepted each one with polite smiles and soft thanks.

Yixiang glanced at Li Fei, then let her gaze follow the gentle figure of her sister. Yanli stood a short distance away, smiling sweetly as she spoke with a Nie disciple.

"There are two of us," Yixiang said. "Naturally, both of us wanted to give the Clarity Bell. But at the same time, we both wanted to give the chance to the other."

Li Fei nodded slowly, understanding dawning in her expression.

Yixiang remembered the moment she and Yanli had tried to decide what gifts they would offer at the ceremony. Neither of them said it aloud, but both knew exactly what they wanted to present—the Clarity Bell.

It was only natural for Yanli to offer it; she was the daughter of the sect leader. But Yixiang, as the sect leader’s ward and a high-ranking Yunmeng-Jiang disciple, also carried that honor.

But because each assumed the other might want to use the Clarity Bell, both quietly chose different gifts, hoping not to overshadow the other.

And so the two sisters, unknowingly mirroring each other's thoughts, each chose a different gift—assuming the other would be the one to give the Clarity Bell.

Much to their surprise, neither of them did.

When they realized this, both were left staring at each other in stunned silence. In realizing the situation too late, the two had rushed to send a letter to Jiang Fengmian explaining everything.

Fortunately, Jiang Fengmian's reply arrived several days before the ceremony. He reassured them that he would personally gift the Clarity Bells to Mingjue, Xichen, and Qing as a welcome gift—since they, too, had become family.

And so, a week after the ceremony, three boxes arrived, each containing a Clarity Bell and a handwritten letter. Every box had the recipient's name—Mingjue, Xichen, and Qing—carefully carved into the wood.

"Why did you two want to meet here, A-Xiang? A-Li?" Xichen asked as he, Mingjue, and Qing made their way up the Backhill.

Wen Qing glanced around warily, clearly still traumatized by the last incident that had happened here. Yixiang had to bite back a laugh at the expression on her face. Mingjue, on the other hand, wore a smirk—undeniably reminiscing about that chaotic night.

Especially Xichen’s drunk self.

She coughed softly to hide her amusement and turned toward them with a smile. Yanli stood beside her, holding three boxes—each one carved with the name of the person it belonged to.

"We just want to give the three of you something," Yanli said sweetly. At the same time, Yixiang waved the three letters in her hand.

"What's that?" Mingjue asked, curiosity pulling him forward.

"These are from Uncle Jiang." Yanli handed each of them their box while Yixiang continued, "Uncle Jiang wanted to welcome you all as extended members of the Jiang Clan, since you're now sworn siblings to me and Yanli. They're also congratulatory gifts."

She smiled as she distributed the letters.

To say the least, the three of them looked genuinely surprised when they opened the boxes and saw the Clarity Bells inside. Xichen was the first to break into a soft smile, looking up at them.

"This is wonderful… such a precious symbol…" he murmured, gently lifting the bell. "Thank you."

She and Yanli exchanged a knowing look.

Yixiang and Yanli exchanged a knowing look. "Send your thanks to Uncle Jiang," she said with a playful wink, making Xichen chuckle.

"We will."

"But why?" Mingjue asked as he carefully lifted the Clarity Bell from its box.

"Among the five of us, two are from the Jiang Clan," Yanli explained. "While I'm Father's daughter, Dajie is Father's ward—older than me, and a high-ranking disciple of Jiang."

"I told you," Yixiang sighed, "as the sect leader's daughter, you have the right."

Yanli shook her head stubbornly.

"But you are—maybe not biologically—but practically Father's daughter too," she insisted.

The two sisters stared at each other for a long moment before Yixiang finally relented with another sigh. Yanli smiled triumphantly.

"Both of us wanted to give the Clarity Bell during the ceremony," Yixiang explained, "but we also wanted to give the chance to each other. When we realized neither of us did… we sent a quick message to Uncle Jiang. He decided he would be the one to gift them to you three as a welcome gift."

"Tie it for me, A-Xiang," Mingjue said, handing her the bell.

Delighted, she accepted it and stepped forward to fasten the Clarity Bell onto him. Yanli did the same for their Xiao-mei. Qing watched quietly as Yanli secured the bell in her belt.

"Thank you," the youngest murmured softly.

Yixiang smiled before Mingjue nudged her and pointed to Xichen, who stood patiently with his bell in hand. She gladly took it from him and tied it in his belt. The purple bell looked almost out of place against his pale blue and white robes—but somehow, it suited him beautifully.

The three opened their letters and read them together. Inside were handwritten notes from Jiang Fengmian, Wei Ying, and Jiang Cheng, each welcoming them and congratulating them. Jiang Fengmian's letter was, unsurprisingly, much longer than the two younger boys.

Nevertheless, the letters were cherished and kept safe—and neither Yixiang nor Yanli ever found out just how much they meant to the three.

As they arrived in the Library, Zonghui was already waiting at the table where the five of them often gathered. They never knew why, but that table—despite the library being full of disciples—always remained empty.

It was ridiculous, but it felt as though the table had long been reserved for the five of them. She wondered how or why… but really, who cared now?

"What took the five of you so long?" Zonghui complained, scooting over to give Yixiang the spot beside him. She offered a sheepish smile as he opened his notes and spread them on the table.

Mingjue, ever curious, tried to peek, only for his cousin to shove his face away. The sect heir scowled, and Zonghui immediately returned the expression. Yanli laughed softly at their childishness, causing both boys to straighten up instantly.

Without a word, Yixiang picked up Zonghui's notes.

The lesson he needed help with was talismans—unsurprising, considering Zonghui was absolutely terrible at them. The last talisman class she had taken with him ended with him accidentally activating a fire talisman beside a Lan disciple.

The poor disciple's hair had caught fire.

She swears, that was the first time she had ever seen an angry Lan Elder.

They looked like an angry tomato.

"Purification talisman?" she asked as she scanned his notes. Zonghui immediately straightened, attention snapping back to her.

"Yes. It has a lot of characters, and even though they're all for purification, they all mean different things." He pointed at a scribbled diagram. "And since the characters are different, I can’t tell where the activation point is supposed to be." He dropped his hand with a sigh.

"This is pretty easy."

Her sworn siblings burst into laughter the moment Zonghui's face crumpled in despair.

He resisted the urge to flip the table into his cousin's face—especially since Mingjue was laughing the loudest. With a long-suffering sigh, he turned back to Yixiang.

"For you. Not for me."

Shaking her head, Yixiang pulled another notebook from her sleeve and flipped it open to a blank page. Without a word, she reached for the brush and ink sitting in front of Mingjue. The latter rolled his eyes dramatically.

"You're welcome," he muttered.

She inclined her head politely in response, an action that only deepened his scowl.

"Look here." She dipped the brush gently into the ink and began writing.

净

息

和

She tapped the first character. "This is jìng, for cleanse." Then the second. "Xī, for dispersion." Finally, she drew a straight line under the third. "Hé, for harmony restoration."

The other four gradually stopped what they were doing, drawn into the small lesson unfolding before them. Even Mingjue leaned in with mild interest. Yixiang reached into her sleeve again and pulled out a blank talisman paper.

"Now, watch closely." With diligent, fluid strokes, she began writing the characters onto the talisman paper, her brush movements slow and precise.

"Is that the header?" Zonghui leaned in closer to the paper. Wen Qing, sitting beside him and watching, nudged his face slightly toward the page. Xichen let out a soft chuckle.

Zonghui looked up, surprised. Wen Qing raised an eyebrow, her tone slightly irritated. "I thought you couldn't see properly," she said. "I just helped you get a better look since your face wasn't close enough."

The boy scowled. "You could've said excuse me," he barked.

"You could've watched without sticking your nose so close to the paper," the younger girl shot back.

"Do you not know manners?" Zonghui retorted.

"Were you not aware others were watching too?" Wen Qing countered.

Their bickering gradually drew attention from nearby disciples. Yixiang's eyes, however, were caught by a particular Jin disciple. A female she recognized as high-ranking, having once seen her bark orders at the other Jin disciples. She was watching the exchange between Zonghui and Wen Qing with an almost intense focus, her gaze fixed on the youngest girl with unmistakable care… and perhaps admiration.

The Jin disciple lifted her eyes and met Yixiang's gaze. As if caught in an illegal act, she smiled sheepishly, her cheeks flushing as she slowly averted her eyes. Luckily, Yixiang wasn't the only one who noticed—when her eyes met Xichen's, his smile confirmed he, too, had seen the same thing.

Jin Zixuan, the heir of the Jin Clan, had been unable to attend because he fell ill before they could make the journey to Gusu. Technically, the Jin Clan should not have sent any disciples in his absence, but not wanting to miss out entirely, Jin Guangshan still dispatched a few, led by that girl. At least, that's what she had heard.

Shaking her head, Yixiang returned her attention to the two bickering kids, hiding a small, amused smile.

It seemed their youngest had managed to earn herself a devoted admirer.

"That's enough." She cut into their argument, feigning annoyance. "I'm the one you two are pissing off." The two immediately shut their mouths.

"Zonghui's angry at you," Mingjue teased, earning a sharp glare from Zonghui, who looked betrayed at the false accusation.

"I'm not! Don't tell me you actually believe this cranky guy?" Zonghui shot back, pointing at Mingjue, who frowned at his nickname.

"Stop." She interjected before Mingjue could retort further.

Mingjue just rolled his eyes but kept his mouth shut. Zonghui, after a sharp glare from her, followed suit. The last time they had argued in front of her, she had shoved them off the small stairs just to get them to listen.

"Alright, look here." She pointed at the talisman and began her explanation. "As for your question, yes—the character on top is the header. Its character is Qing, for clarity, and this is very important in a purification talisman." She pushed the talisman into the center of the table so everyone could see clearly. "The second character is Jìng, followed by Xī and Hé."

She looked at Zonghui to make sure he was paying attention. The boy raised a brow. "I'm paying attention," he said, sounding slightly offended.

"I haven't said anything yet," she replied flatly, watching his shoulders slump.

"Defensive," Mingjue smirked.

"Dajie is just checking if you understand," Yanli interjected with her usual gentle smile.

Qing snorted. "Did he?"

Seeing all his sworn siblings teasing their friend—despite the fact that he himself could be a master teaser—Xichen decided not to join in for now. He calmly stepped in before Zonghui could storm away in frustration.

"Is the activation point of a talisman always placed below?" Xichen asked, saving Zonghui from further teasing—even though he clearly already knew the answer himself.

Zonghui's eyes lit up as he looked at Er-ge, as if he'd just glimpsed an angel descending before him. Xichen let out a soft chuckle. And perhaps from that moment on, Zonghui would forever view Xichen as his savior—at least until the day it was Xichen himself who began teasing him mercilessly.

Good luck, Zonghui. Out of the five of us, Xichen was by far the biggest bully.

"Not every talisman has the activation point in the same place. It depends on the type," she explained. "For the Purification Talisman, though, the activation point is always below." She pointed to the footer. "Before writing the activation point, you need to draw the footer first. It stabilizes and seals the spiritual energy." Gently, she pushed the talisman toward them.

Wen Qing, Jiang Yanli, and Nie Zonghui crowded around the talisman as she slowly wrote everything into her own notes.

"Let me see it properly," Qing demanded, nudging Zonghui aside, while Yanli silently and politely observed the talisman beside them.

"If you two aren't careful and accidentally activate it, I'll hang you upside down," she warned, scowling. The two immediately quieted down.

"Taking notes?" Xichen and Mingjue peeked over her shoulder, curious.

"I'll give it to the three of them so they can review it," she explained.

Xichen smiled at her neat, organized notes. "That's very thoughtful of you."

"If I were you, I wouldn't bother," Mingjue chimed in, as if his unsolicited opinion were essential.

"Luckily, I'm not you," she shot back, dipping her brush in ink. Xichen laughed quietly, while Mingjue only scowled in response.

Silence settled over their table as everyone busied themselves with their own work—finishing exercises or reviewing notes. Once Zonghui finished his task, he quietly left the table, invited by his friends to step outside.

Xichen then leaned suspiciously over the table, and the other four immediately followed suit, curious about whatever he was about to say.

"Gossip is forbidden," Mingjue groaned, while Yanli giggled. Feeling a little deceived, Yixiang was about to pull back with a glare—until Xichen spoke again. "But Uncle has business with the Wen Clan for the next five days."

Interest instantly flared, and all four leaned forward again, pretending the discussion was of utmost importance. Luckily, no one else paid them any attention.

"Want to go on a night hunt?" Xichen asked, eyes glinting. They all stared at him. "W-what?"

Mingjue slowly smirked and, like a reckless fool, slapped Xichen on the back with enough force to make him writhe slightly in pain.

"Mingjue!" Yixiang scolded, though Mingjue only smiled apologetically at Xichen.

"Are you okay, Xichen-ge?" Yanli asked.

"Clearly…" Wen Qing's bored gaze swept over him before she continued, "He's not okay."

"I'm okay—" Xichen's lips quivered, and Yixiang watched him with a pang of pity.

"Sorry, Xichen," Mingjue apologized yet again—for the sixth time.

Xichen took a deep breath and nodded. Silence fell for a brief moment… then the five of them quietly laughed together.

"So… night hunt?" Yixiang steered the conversation back to the point.

Xichen nodded. "I've asked Uncle, and he approved."

"Who'll watch over Zhan?" Qing asked, remembering that whenever they had free time, Xichen usually stuck with his little brother.

"I spoke with him," Xichen replied. "He'll be busy too."

The five exchanged knowing looks before Yixiang nodded. "Good timing. We can put Yanli's secret training into action… and also my…" She trailed off with a sly smile, confident they understood her meaning even without finishing the sentence.

"I'm in, then," Mingjue huffed.

The next day, everyone was informed that classes would be suspended for five days, just as Xichen had told them. Right after the announcement, the five of them gathered at the entrance of Cloud Recesses, grinning at one another.

"Let's go?" Xichen asked.

"Yeah!" they all answered in unison.

• • •

Yixiang's four sworn siblings watched her with quiet curiosity as another citizen of Caiyi Town—for the fifth time—greeted her with a warm smile.

"Young Lady Wei," an elderly woman called, holding a basket brimming with fruits. "You're here! Are you heading out for another night hunt?"

Yixiang blinked at her for a moment, then returned a polite smile, nodding slightly. "Yes, ma'am. I' m with my friends." She gestured subtly toward her sworn siblings, who the woman had only just noticed.

"Oh!" The elderly woman's eyes widened, and she offered a polite, apologetic smile. "Forgive me." She began to lower herself into a slight bow, but Yixiang moved quickly to stop her.

"There's no need for that, ma'am," Xichen said gently, his calm smile reassuring.

"How considerate of you, young ladies and young masters," the woman said, her eyes softening. She shifted the basket of fruits into Yixiang’s hands. "Here, Young Lady Wei. I never had the chance to properly thank you for helping me in the garden last time."

"Ma'am, there's really no need—" Yixiang began, but the woman hushed her with a gentle wave of her hand.

"Please," she said with a smile that creased the corners of her eyes. "I'd be disheartened if you refused."  With little choice, Yixiang accepted the basket.

Bowing slightly, she smiled. "Thank you, Ma'am. Please don't hesitate to call on me again if you ever need help."

The elderly woman let out a light laugh. "You've already helped me plenty these past few weeks." She held Yixiang's hand, "You've done enough, girl." Steping back, she waved her hand dismissively. "Alright, alright, I won't keep you from your night hunt. Be careful out there."

The five of them bowed in return, and the woman's smile lingered after they turned to leave.

As they drifted slowly away from the town, her four sworn siblings didn't stop eyeing her. With an audible sigh, she finally turned toward them.

"Ask," she grumbled, her tone sharp with mild exasperation.

"What was that?" Mingjue asked, one eyebrow raised.

"What do you mean 'what was that'?" Yixiang retorted.

"He means… the fact that you've been going on night hunts during our stay in Cloud Recesses, and none of us knew," Qing said, tilting her head with curiosity.

Yanli, frowning slightly, chimed in, "I also didn't know you'd been sneaking out from Cloud Recesses Dajie." The confusion was clear on her face, especially since she and Yixiang shared the same dorm room.

"A-Xiang?" Xichen prompted gently, his voice calm yet expectant.

With a sharp click of her tongue, Yixiang finally admitted, "I've been going out on night hunts."

"As we've heard," Mingjue interjected, smirking. He stepped forward and placed a hand lightly on her head. "How long have you been sneaking out behind our backs, huh?"

Yixiang swatted his hand away with a roll of her eyes, leading the way down the path.

"Since we arrived here," she huffed. "Yanli wouldn't notice because there's a door between our beds. And I haven't broken any rules." She held up a finger to forestall another interruption from Mingjue. "I leave before Xu Shi after dinner and return by Mao Shi. That's all."

"You've been doing this for that long without anyone knowing?" Qing asked, surprise in her voice.

"Not exactly. A few Lan Disciples have seen me leaving Cloud Recesses… but they didn't care enough to pay attention," Yixiang said with a shrug.

"No wonder people in town recognized you," Xichen observed, one corner of his mouth twitching in amusement. "Seems you've made quite an impression in Gusu, A-Xiang."

Mingjue grumbled, "Now that I think about it… you're known in Qinghe too. I've overheard other disciples mention you often whenever I pass by them."

"Really?" Yixiang stopped in her tracks, a hint of surprise in her voice.

Mingjue and Qing raised their brows at her, while the other two simply smiled, amused.

"Don't act like you don't know," Mingjue teased.

"I really don't," she insisted, but he nudged her forward.

"Get moving," Mingjue murmured.

Yixiang stumbled slightly and glared at him, irritation flashing in her eyes.

"Who do you think you're pushing?" she barked, though she continued forward, unwilling to slow her pace now that Mingjue had pushed her.

"I think we're close," Qing said, cutting off the brewing argument before it could escalate.

They had received a report about an abandoned house along an old, forgotten path by the west river in Gusu. The route had once been bustling, a thoroughfare frequently traveled by locals. But in recent years, people had started disappearing along the way. Others claimed to have heard cries in the night. Eventually, the path had been abandoned entirely.

True to Qing's words, from their current vantage point, the river stretched clearly into view. The path leading to it was overgrown, littered with fallen leaves and debris, a clear testament to years of neglect. No carriage tracks or footprints marred the trail.

They moved slowly, following the path with caution.

"It's creepy," Mingjue muttered suddenly, breaking the uneasy silence.

"Scared?" the youngest teased, glancing up at him. Mingjue shot her a glare.

"Who's scared? Want me to throw you in the river?" he threatened with mock seriousness, reaching as if to grab Qing by the collar. Quick to react, she sidestepped, landing a few steps away beside Yanli.

"Defensive," Qing shot back, her tone sharp.

"You—" Mingjue began, but Yixiang cut him off with a raised hand.

"Look," she said, pointing across the river. There it stood—a lone house, abandoned and untouched. The wood was streaked with mold, vines crept across the walls, and spiderwebs hung thick in every corner. Dirt and neglect clung to every surface, making the house appear frozen in time.

"One could mistake that for a horror house," Yanli murmured.

"Well, it is a horror house," Xichen replied flatly.

"Awful," Mingjue muttered, his face twisting in disgust. Ever mischievous, Yixiang seized the moment, flicking a spider she had picked up onto his face. "A-Xiang!" she exclaimed in mock indignation. The others laughed at the exchange, while Mingjue only scowled.

"Scaredy-cat," Yixiang teased, grinning. Mingjue's scowled deepened as he wipe his face.

Shaking his head, Xichen stepped forward, leading the group. The gate creaked in protest as he pushed it open. Around the house, all the plants had withered, as if the very ground resented the presence of the abandoned structure. Mingjue's earlier woed seemed justified—the place was truly awful. Yixiang observed the dying plants with a mixture of fascination and unease, noticing how even nature seemed to struggle here.

The night was settling in, shadows stretching along the abandoned path. Yixiang's eyes twitched as a chorus of wails echoed from within the house.

"That's… that's a lot," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Mingjue, Xichen, and Yixiang exchanged grim looks. The cries weren't random—they came from multiple children, trapped and restless, their spirits yet to find peace.

"Do you two want to stay outside?" Xichen asked gently, addressing the two youngest.

"Will we be a hindrance to what you’re about to do inside?" Qing asked politely, her voice steady despite the tension.

Yixiang met Mingjue's gaze for a brief moment. After a pause, he shook his head. "I don't think so."

"Then… can we come in?"

Yanli nodded as well. "We'll stay out of the way. And… this is my first night hunt. I want to learn," she said earnestly.

Yixiang felt an unfamiliar swell of pride. She had always known that Yanli is a brave girl, but this moment made her realize how much her little sister had grown. Even Wen Qing, who avoided fighting and violence and had chosen the path of medicine, still did her best to keep up and properly learn as a cultivator.

Although the eldest trio had assured her she didn't need to force herself, Wen Qing's earnestness—matching Yanli's own—earned their guidance. So Mingjue , Xichen and Yixiang led the two girls carefully.

"Alright," Yixiang said softly. "Be alert, and keep a hand on the hilt of your swords." She nodded at Xichen, who returned the gesture.

The two girls smiled at her appreciatively.

Xichen reached forward and slowly pushed open the door. The group followed, each hand lingering on the hilt of their sword, senses sharpened, cautious with every step. Then, as if moved by unseen hands, the door slammed shut behind them.

"Don't panic," Yixiang whispered, her voice low but firm, a tether of calm amid the rising tension.

Mingjue's eyes swept the room until they caught a flicker of movement. A spirit. A child. "Hey," he called, drawing the attention of his sworn siblings.

All of them immediately turned toward where he was looking. Behind a cracked doorway, a small spirit peeked out, its wide eyes held a mixture of curiosity and fear. Yixiang felt her chest tighten, memories of her own little brother surfacing—the same fearful, hesitant gaze she had once seen in Yiling.

She tugged gently at Mingjue's sleeve just as he stepped forward.

"Let me," she murmured, her voice soft but firm.

The boy stared at her for a long moment, then nodded slowly, stepping aside to give her a way. Yixiang stacked her sword neatly into her sash and stepped forward, her movements deliberate.

"Hello," she said, lowering herself gracefully to one knee. She opened her mouth to speak again, then froze—this was a spirit she was addressing, not a living child.

The spirit's lips parted, but only incoherent sounds emerged. Yixiang's lips pressed together, and with a resigned sigh, she reached into her qiankun pouch and carefully withdrew a guqin

Xichen watched her with quiet surprise.

She looked up at him, offering a sheepish smile. "Would you… oversee my performance? Perhaps give me a review afterward?"

The white-robed boy blinked, then chuckled, nodding in agreement. "Show me what you've learned, A-Xiang."

With a breath, Yixiang set the guqin before her, letting her spiritual energy settle it into place. The instrument was designed for musical cultivation, though not yet on par with the refined quality of Lan Sect instruments. Clean, neat characters were carved into its surface, acting as passages and seals for the spiritual energy she would transmit.

Yixiang inhaled deeply, closed her eyes, and gently placed her fingers on the strings. Slowly, she recalled the Qin Language lessons from Elder Hao.

She struck the strings with delicate precision, sending a melody of spiritual energy toward the child.

Hello. I am Yixiang… What is your name?

She paused and glanced at Xichen. He gave her a subtle nod—a silent affirmation that she was doing it correctly. The guqin vibrated, and the spirit's faint response echoed softly in the room.

I'm… Gao Huye.

Yixiang's fingers hovered over the strings again.

May I… ask why you are here?

For a fleeting moment, fear darkened the child's eyes.

Leave!

Her brows furrowed in confusion.

Why? We're here to help you. I promise.

You can't help us! Leave!

Us?

A sharp intake of breath from Yanli drew her eyes upward. Only then did she notice the others. There were many child spirits scattered throughout the abandoned house, all watching silently from the shadows.

Yixiang lifted her hands to play the guqin again, but before she could, a sudden force hurled her against the wall. Her head struck the rough wood, sending a wave of dizziness through her. The others were caught off guard, unable to react immediately.

A scream pierced the abandoned house.