The mountain stirred awake before dawn.
Mist lazily wove its way across the terraces of Cloudspire, wrapping around stone railings and lotus ponds, blurring the world's sharp contours. Distant bells rang softly from the upper halls, their chimes muted by the expanse of the morning.
Lin Feng stood at the edge of the outer platform, gazing down at the clouds rolling beneath him. Rest had eluded him.
Footsteps approached from behind, light and deliberate, wary of shattering the serene stillness. Mei Yun halted a little way off, cradling two small cups of steaming tea.
"You're up early," she remarked.
He turned, caught off guard, then smiled at her. "So are you."
She extended a cup toward him, their fingers brushing momentarily.
They sipped their tea in silence, two figures poised above a world still caught in dreams.
After a moment, Mei Yun broke the quiet. "Elder Xian has been asking about you."
Lin Feng's gaze remained fixed on the clouds. "I'm aware."
"Are you not afraid?"
He pondered her question. "I am, but not in the way most would think."
"Sometimes," he added softly, "I feel that the parchment isn't directing me forward. Instead, it's urging me to pause. To recall something I've left behind."
...........
Later that day, they were assigned to the Herb Pavilion, where their job was to sort spirit leaves for refinement. The work was mundane, repetitive, and quiet — a welcome escape from the attention of cultivation halls.
Surprisingly, Lin Feng found contentment in the monotony.
Mei Yun moved with practiced grace, her sleeves deftly tied back, hair cascading in a loose braid. She patiently explained the distinctions between frost-bloom leaves and moon-veined stems, her voice soothing.
As midday approached, they rested beneath a stone arch overlooking the lower gardens. Mei Yun settled beside him, their shoulders brushing with the lightest gust of wind.
"Do you ever wish," she asked quietly, "for things to be simpler?"
"Yes," he replied with sincerity. "But simplicity isn't handed to us. It's something we create."
She turned to him, curiosity sparking in her eyes. "Then… what are you building?"
He hesitated before responding. Instead, he reached into his robe and unfurled a corner of the parchment, revealing a single rune that glowed faintly.
"I'm not sure yet," he confessed. "But whatever it is… I want it to encompass warmth."
The rune pulsed softly.
Mei Yun inhaled sharply, her gaze shifting from the parchment to his face.
"Then proceed with caution," she whispered. "Warmth attracts attention."
From the garden path below, hidden eyes lingered in the shadows.
That night, as Lin Feng returned to his quarters, he discovered a small bundle tied with plain string at his door. Inside was a charm woven from mountain grass — a minor ward against spiritual imbalance.
He couldn't help but smile.
Above him, unseen by mortal eyes, a scrying mirror flickered faintly — its image obscured by something gentle, human, and quietly defiant.
And for the first time since arriving at Cloudspire Sect, Lin Feng drifted into sleep free from visions of Heaven.