The night over the Celestial Veil Sect felt heavier than usual—an air pressure that settled on the skin like a warning hand. Lanterns flickered although there was no wind, and even the mountain's familiar silence had taken on a strange, restrained quality, as if the whole peak were holding its breath. Ling Wei felt it first. He stopped midway across the courtyard, his fingers quietly curling at his side. Shen Yu, who had been walking beside him, noticed instantly. "Wei-ge?" he asked, voice low, careful not to disturb whatever invisible thread Ling Wei was sensing. Ling Wei didn't answer immediately. His eyes drifted toward the distant treeline, the shadows pooling unnaturally thick beneath the branches. Something was watching. He didn't know what, or from where, but the instinct that had saved him countless times hummed sharply through his spine. "Nothing," he finally murmured, but his voice lacked its usual calm. "Just… stay alert."
Shen Yu didn't press. He stepped subtly closer, shoulder brushing Ling Wei's, a small signal: I'm here. But the heaviness did not lift. If anything, it grew. On another part of the mountain path, Yu Zhen paused in the middle of instructing Xiao Rong on a sword technique—not that Xiao Rong was focusing well to begin with. The loud boy froze mid-movement when Yu Zhen suddenly grabbed his wrist, eyes narrowing toward the forest below. "What—?" Xiao Rong began, but stopped upon seeing the uncharacteristic intensity in Yu Zhen's expression. Yu Zhen rarely allowed emotion to surface. When it did, it was never without reason. "Someone stepped past the warding boundary," Yu Zhen whispered. "Or something." Xiao Rong's carefree expression vanished. He tightened his grip on his sword. "Just now?" "A few breaths ago." Yu Zhen's voice was steady, but even he couldn't mask the unease threading through his tone.
None of them knew that far below the mountain, in the shadows between two twisted pines, Feng Lan stood watching the lights of the Celestial Veil Sect flicker like distant fireflies. He tilted his head, dark hair falling over eyes that gleamed with an unsettling mix of longing and bitterness. "They look so peaceful up there," he murmured. "Almost makes me want to burn it all down just to see what remains." Behind him, Mo Qing's silhouette was barely visible, more shadow than man, presence as cold as a blade pressed against the back of one's neck. "Not yet," Mo Qing said softly, voice deceptively light. "We don't move until everything is aligned. Patience, Feng Lan." Feng Lan scoffed but did not step forward. Despite his volatile nature, even he respected Mo Qing's quiet authority. "You want to test their defenses again?" he asked. "Test?" Mo Qing gave a soft laugh. "No. Tonight, we observe. Let them feel unease. Let their instincts wake. Fear is a seed—it will grow beautifully once planted."
On the mountaintop, that seed was already blooming. The Sect's guardian arrays pulsed faintly beneath the ground, reacting to a presence they couldn't pinpoint. Ling Wei felt the shift beneath his feet and frowned. "The formation… it's fluctuating." Shen Yu stiffened. "That's bad, right?" "Very." Ling Wei moved to the closest spirit stone pillar and rested his hand on it. The pulse inside was irregular—not damaged, not broken, but disturbed by something foreign. Something testing boundaries. When he withdrew his hand, his face had turned serious, lips pressed tight. "We need to inform Master." Shen Yu nodded, but before they could move, the wind shifted—cold, sharp, unnatural. Shen Yu instinctively grabbed Ling Wei's arm and tugged him back just as a cluster of leaves flew past them, sliced in half midair by something unseen. Not blade, not spirit energy—something stranger. Something precise. Ling Wei's eyes darkened. "We're being watched."
Farther down the path, Yu Zhen and Xiao Rong felt the same shift. A prickling sensation crawled along Yu Zhen's nape—like invisible eyes trailing his spine. "Rong," he murmured, "don't move." Xiao Rong froze instantly, breath quieting. A moment later, a barely audible sound—like a whisper of cloth against bark—echoed from the woods. Yu Zhen didn't turn toward it. He only said, "On my mark, retreat toward the inner courtyard." "Not fight?" Xiao Rong whispered, confused but trusting. "Not without knowing what's hiding. There's more than one presence." Something rustled again. And both boys drew closer together before slowly stepping backward, steps light and silent.
Ling Wei and Shen Yu reached the inner courtyard at nearly the same moment Yu Zhen and Xiao Rong entered from another path. None of them had to speak; their expressions told everything. "You felt it too," Yu Zhen said. Ling Wei nodded. "The boundary was breached for a moment. Not fully—just… disturbed." Shen Yu shivered involuntarily. "Like someone brushing their fingers over the Sect barrier?" "Exactly," Ling Wei replied. "Someone is testing us." Xiao Rong frowned, looking anxious for once, his playful nature suppressed. "But why test and run? Who does something creepy like that?" Ling Wei exchanged a glance with Yu Zhen—two disciplined minds reaching the same grim conclusion. "Someone patient," Yu Zhen said. "Someone confident." "Someone who wants to know how strong we are before they strike," Ling Wei finished.
A long silence followed. Not fearful, but heavy, each of them understanding instinctively that the peace they'd enjoyed these past days was beginning to crack. Shen Yu inhaled slowly, trying to steady himself. "Do you think… something big is coming?" Ling Wei didn't answer right away. He lifted his gaze to the dark horizon where the forest met the sky. The wind whispered again—not a natural breeze, but a cold echo from something intelligent and malicious. "Yes," he finally said. "This was only a warning." Xiao Rong swallowed. "So what do we do?" Ling Wei turned to them, resolve firm but eyes shadowed. "We stay vigilant. No one wanders alone. Strengthen the formations. Report everything." Shen Yu nodded, stepping close enough for their shoulders to touch, grounding himself through Ling Wei's presence. Xiao Rong mirrored him, planting himself at Yu Zhen's side, their closeness steadying the disciplined cultivator's tense stance. Four silhouettes stood beneath the lantern light—young, strong, determined—but behind them, darkness pooled and shifted like a creature waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
And far below, Mo Qing smiled faintly, sensing their rising tension through the trembling of spiritual currents. "Good," he whispered. "They've noticed." Feng Lan glanced up toward the glowing Sect buildings, heart twisting with an emotion he refused to name. "Can we move soon?" "Soon," Mo Qing murmured. "Let the fear take root first. Then we'll break them."
Somewhere on the mountain, the protective wards pulsed again—slow, irregular, warning them that the storm was finally beginning to gather.