—
Ling Xi froze, staring at Mù Xuán.
Imperial Lake…
—
He scanned the place again.
The golden water reflected sunlight in sharp streaks.
Silver stones were scattered across the shore, smooth and shining.
Mist rose from the lake's surface, curling into the air, giving the place a surreal, almost sacred atmosphere.
The trees surrounding were dense and tall, their branches swaying lightly in the wind.
If she lived here… then she…
He took four steps back, heart pounding, every muscle alert.
—
Mù Xuán glanced at him briefly, her expression unbothered, as she wrung her clothes, arranging them on the stones to dry next to the ones she'd washed earlier that morning.
Without a word, she turned and walked toward the house, leaving Ling Xi standing there.
—
Ling Xi's gaze followed her, unable to look away, a mixture of curiosity and disbelief twisting inside him.
—
Sunlight filtered through paper windows, casting soft squares of light onto the wooden floor.
On the bed lay a set of white robes, soft and flowing, with silver embroidery tracing the hems and sleeves.
—
She changed quickly, tying the sash neatly at her waist, the fabric sliding smoothly over her skin.
She stood before the bronze mirror, brushing her long silver hair until it fell smooth and shining.
Every movement precise, every detail deliberate.
Her reflection stared back at her, serene yet distant.
A thin silver ribbon held the single braid in place, accentuating the refined, ethereal beauty of her features.
—
Stepping out, she scanned the living room, her lips curving into a faint pout.
She hadn't gone to the market because of him.
Now there was only enough rice for one meal.
"What should I make…" she murmured, voice soft.
—
She walked into the kitchen.
The space was tidy and orderly, wooden shelves lined with copper pots, clay jars, and neatly stacked bowls.
Sunlight fell on the polished surfaces, giving the room a gentle glow.
She opened the rice container, sighing softly.
Phoenix Rice Wraps.
A small smile curved her lips.
—
She left the kitchen and glanced around for Ling Xi.
He wasn't there.
She walked to the lake, where she'd left him.
—
He stood at the edge, motionless, gaze fixed on the shimmering water.
His long black hair hung in disheveled strands around his face and shoulders, slightly damp and clinging to his clothes, giving him a wild, almost feral look.
His robes were smudged with dirt and faint traces of dried blood,yet he carried himself with an unyielding, rigid posture.
Yet despite this, there was an undeniable intensity to him, a presence that drew attention even as he stood silent and immobile.
Even in silence, there was a heavy presence about him.
An intensity that drew attention, a quiet authority that made the air around him feel taut, expectant.
—
Her silver brows furrowed slightly.
"What's wrong?" she asked, stepping closer.
Ling Xi turned slowly toward her, expression unreadable, eyes sharp.
"This… is really Imperial Lake?" His voice was calm, cold, measured.
"Yes," she said simply.
He studied her, eyes narrowing. "Then you're… a guardian, right?"
Mù Xuán's lips curved faintly as she nodded.
—
He looked around cautiously, alert.
His mind raced—dragon.
The dragon!!
—
"Zhù Yuan is asleep now," she said quietly noticing his expression.
"Who… is Zhù Yuan?"
"The dragon," she answered.
He blinked in surprise, murmuring. "They… name them?"
"Yes," she said lightly. "We name them."
—
Ling Xi studied her carefully, then finally said, "But… didn't I hear that two hundred years ago, a disaster struck this whole family?"
Her face hardened. Cold.
"Yes," she said.
He opened his mouth to ask more but then closed it.
Why did he want to know?
—
He fell silent, eyes scanning the water.
Finally, he asked, "Why… did you save me?"
"I don't know," she said simply, shrugging.
His eyes narrowed, sharp, piercing.
He stepped closer, voice low and dangerous. "Are you… stupid? Just saving someone and bringing him here… to your home?"
She tilted her head, nodding lightly.
"Yes."
"Why?" he asked, curiousity evident in his eyes.
"Because I could," she said, voice calm as if it were the most natural thing.
He stepped back, face cooling, expression hard.
"Who else… have you saved and brought here?"
"Many," she said lightly, as if naming them didn't matter.
"Oh," he said flatly, cold.
Her lips curved slightly, a hint of amusement.
"I saved Fuli the Fox… Qing Long the serpent… and Yao'er the owl," she said casually.
—
He looked at her in surprise, then amusement flickered across his face.
"You mean… those creatures?"
"Yes," she said, smiling.
Her smile was soft—unbothered, almost childlike, the corners of her lips curving with a kind of quiet pride.
It wasn't the smile of someone aware of danger or fear… but of someone who found joy in the simplest things.
—
For a moment, Ling Xi just stared.
There was something disarming about it, something that slipped past his guarded composure before he could stop it.
He looked away quickly, masking the faint shift in his chest with a cold exhale.
—
He nodded slowly, then pressed a hand to his abdomen, frowning slightly, eyes returning to the lake.
Pain shot through his core, a dull ache radiating outward.
His body felt weak, almost like he could collapse at any moment.
Every breath burned slightly, his pulse racing unnaturally, and a chill ran down his spine.
—
Mù Xuán noticed immediately, her silver brows knitting slightly.
She remembered her inability to fully heal him earlier and sighed softly.
"You want to cultivate?" she asked, voice soft; almost gentle.
He looked at her, cautious. "What…"
"How do you know?" he asked, frowning.
She smiled faintly. "I… feel it."
"How?"
She lifted her hand, pointing to his abdomen.
"I don't know exactly… but I can feel your pulse. Your energy center… it's weak. Injured."
Ling Xi stared at her, awe flickering briefly in his eyes, then coldness returned, a tightness settling over his features.
He recalled the moment before he fainted… she had seemed to know too.
Who was this girl?
—
A sudden pain cut through his abdomen, cold sweat forming on his forehead.
He clenched his jaw.
"Okay," he said, voice tight.
Mù Xuán smiled faintly, then took his hand in hers.
—
He froze—the cold of her touch was almost unbearable—but he allowed her to lead him toward the upper side of the lake.
—
The path opened onto a clearing where a waterfall tumbled down from the cliffs, mist rising like delicate threads in the air.
The energy here was thick, vibrant, wrapping around them like an invisible force, invigorating yet calm.
"This… is my best spot," she said, eyes flicking down to his abdomen.
Her lips murmured almost inaudibly, "How strange…"
—
She looked up at him, then asked the question that had been bothering her.
"Why couldn't I… stabilize your energy center or heal your shoulder?"
She frowned in surprise, noticing that a small part on his shoulder had healed on its own… yet she had done nothing.
How?
—
Ling Xi's cold gaze studied her.
So she had tried…
No wonder the pain in his dream had been unbearable.
Someone had attacked his core… and it hurt.
"I… don't know," he said flatly.
Why had she tried though?
—
"I think I never did it properly," she whispered. "Otherwise… from what I've read in scrolls and from my father… you could…"
—
He didn't answer, eyes scanning the waterfall, the lake, the surrounding trees.
"This place is… good," he said finally. "More energy than I've ever felt. If one cultivated here..."
Mù Xuán nodded lightly. "Take your time. I'll go make food."
She then glanced at him one last time before leaving.
—
He nodded back, sitting cross-legged.
His body trembled slightly as he began to draw Qi from the surrounding energy, gathering it slowly into his core.
He inhaled deeply, focusing, tracing the flow of energy through his meridians, letting the high Qi swirl around him.
Golden light glimmered faintly at his palms, spreading across his body, his expression remaining cold, unreadable, as his energy began to stabilize.
—
The waterfall loomed above him, mist curling around the stones like a delicate curtain, carrying the thick, vibrant Qi of the lake.
He inhaled slowly again, feeling the dense energy pressing against his weakened core.
—
Suddenly, pain shot through his abdomen immediately—a dull, deep ache radiating outward.
His breathing became shallow, uneven, each inhale sending a sharp sting through his ribs.
He clenched his jaw, pressing his palms to the ground, trying to stabilize himself.
The Qi swirled around him, thick and potent, brushing against his energy center with an almost sentient force.
A faint tremor pulsed at his core, subtle but insistent, as if testing him, teasing him.
He ignored the warning, forcing focus, drawing the energy in.
The pain sharpened.
A spasm curled through his stomach.
Blood tinged his lips as he gasped, teeth gritting through the pain.
The world narrowed to a single point: the pulse of energy inside him, the rush of life and force around him, and the unbearable ache demanding release.
—
Then—a flicker.
A sudden, tiny tremor inside his core, rapid and rhythmic.
A spark of heat, like molten gold, shot along his veins, just enough to make his pupils flicker.
He froze, breath hitching, muscles taut, eyes narrowing into slits.
The golden streaks were faint, barely perceptible, but they rippled across his vision, leaving him shaken.
—
Before he could steady himself, the pain flared again, sharp and consuming, and then vanished as suddenly as it had appeared.
The tremor settled.
His breathing grew even, the ache dulled, and energy hummed faintly through his body, subtle but steady.
A faint warmth lingered in his abdomen, almost like a pulse answering another.
Something stirred deep inside.
—
Ling Xi didn't move.
His face remained cold, expressionless, eyes sharp and alert as always.
Even in silence, the lake, the waterfall, the thick Qi around him—all seemed alive, vibrating faintly with the same pulse.
He inhaled again, slow and measured, allowing the energy to flow through him, stabilizing his core, letting the warmth settle like an ember ready to ignite.
—