Zhao Xiao sharpened his hearing again, trying to catch even the smallest breath he knew better than his own heartbeat. But every time he focused, new sounds burst violently inside his head—footsteps, the murmurs of merchants, children's laughter, even the snorting of animals far from the stalls. Everything blended into chaos.
"There's nothing… still nothing…" he muttered hoarsely. "If that's the case… I'll expand it even further."
He forced his body to move and stretched his senses outward. Yet the wider he pushed his awareness, the heavier the pressure on his chest became, as if the world was raining invisible hammers upon his body. His breath grew ragged, blood rising to his throat. The sounds that had once been clear now turned into thousands of needles stabbing into his ears. He clutched the sides of his head, trying to hold back the pain.
"Long'er… where are you…"
The more he forced himself, the wilder the sounds became. He heard too many breaths—the breaths of women bargaining, men lifting goods, exhausted beasts tied nearby. Everything drowned out the one breath he desperately sought.
His panic spiked sharply.
"No… could Long'er… have been kidnapped?" he whispered, breath trembling. His mind leapt instantly to the worst possibility. "Or… that old cultivator earlier… did he actually hold a grudge against me? Did he take Long'er…?"
The old man's once-kind expression darkened in Zhao Xiao's mind, twisted by fear. Maybe that smile had only been a mask. Maybe he had pretended to be benevolent for the sake of image. Maybe he wanted something from him—or from Zhao Long.
His thoughts spiraled further, deeper, darker.
"All of this… all the bad things today… could they be connected…?"
He recalled the merchants who smiled too easily, the crowd that didn't care, even the arrogant cultivator who had beaten him the day before while he was carrying goods.
"They all… all of them made me lower my guard…" he whispered, breath shortening. "If only I hadn't trusted them… if only I had been more careful…"
Guilt and paranoia wrapped around his chest like chains of iron. His frail body—a mere ordinary human—was never meant to endure the strain of a cultivator's senses. But he kept pushing his limits.
Until finally, fresh blood burst past his lips.
He vomited it out.
The warm liquid splattered on the stone path, making some onlookers turn with alarm. But Zhao Xiao didn't care. He wiped the blood shakily, his chest burning as if torn open from within.
"I… I can't stop… Long'er… Father is coming…"
Stumbling, he continued walking. His eyes reddened, his vision trembling. He no longer knew which direction he had gone, which path he had already searched. The world spun, but his resolve stayed firm like steel.
As long as his body could move, he had to keep searching.
At last, his feet stopped before a small stall… the one Zhao Long always liked, selling sweet snacks he used to buy for him. The faint aroma of sugar tugged memories to the surface with a single breath.
There, beneath the cracked wooden roof, he froze.
"Long'er likes this snack…" he whispered, voice breaking. His knees weakened. He grabbed the edge of the wooden counter to keep himself from collapsing. His gaze locked onto the neatly arranged treats, and the tears he had been holding back finally spilled over.
"Whatever it takes… I must find him… even if it means pushing past my own limits…"
But his fear-twisted mind continued to spiral into darker places.
"The merchants… they only pretended to be kind… they distracted me… maybe they know something…" he muttered, chest tight. "And those cultivators who beat me yesterday… are they just playing with me again? But why…?"
Seeds of hostility began to grow. His vision shook between terror and anger.
But before those shadows could take deeper root—
"—Father!!!"
Zhao Xiao froze.
That voice—small, trembling, yet clearer than the sun breaking through a storm—cut through the entire noise of the world.
He turned slowly, hardly daring to believe his ears.
Through the blur of people, Zhao Long broke free from the hand of the old woman guiding him and ran toward him with his tiny, trembling legs. His face was streaked with tears, but overflowing with joy.
"Father!! Father, I'm here!!"
Zhao Xiao's heart collapsed in an instant.
Every ounce of hostility, suspicion, and darkness inside him vanished like mist swept away by wind. He turned fully, and when Zhao Long crashed into him, he wrapped his arms around the child with all his strength—as if the world might steal him away again.
"Long'er… Long'er…" he whispered through tears, voice shattered by relief. "Father… will never… leave you again. Never…"
Zhao Long clung to him, crying into his chest. "Father… I was scared… I thought I wouldn't see you again…"
Zhao Xiao stroked his back gently, eyes closed, letting his tears fall freely. "I'm sorry… from now on… I'll always be by your side… no matter what."
He held Zhao Long until the child's trembling slowly faded. Only then did he open his eyes and notice the old woman who had guided his son standing nearby, watching them with a warm, gentle gaze.
Before he approached her, Zhao Xiao wiped the remaining blood from the corner of his lips. His fingers trembled at the metallic taste lingering on his tongue. The internal injury from forcing his senses still burned hot, but he forced himself to stand straight so he wouldn't worry Zhao Long.
As expected, the boy looked up at him with widened eyes. "Father… why is there blood? Were you attacked? Are you hurt badly?" His voice was soft, but full of lingering fear.
Zhao Xiao offered a faint smile, trying to look calm. "Father just fell hard while searching for you," he replied gently, though he knew he had nearly vomited out his heart from overexertion. He didn't want to burden the child with the bitter truth.
He squeezed Zhao Long's hand—firmly, tightly—as if ensuring the world would never take him away again.
"As long as Father can stand," he murmured, "I will always find you."
Only then did he lead Zhao Long toward the elderly woman. Zhao Xiao bowed deeply—far deeper than a normal greeting. His voice trembled, but carried overflowing sincerity.
"Thank you… thank you for protecting my child. I… I don't know how to repay kindness this great."
Zhao Long bowed as well, copying his father. "Thank you, Grandma… thank you for helping me find Father."
The old woman chuckled softly, her warm laughter soothing against the fading noise of the market. "Stand up, both of you. No need to bow so low. I only did what anyone should."
She looked at Zhao Xiao with wise, gentle eyes. "Your child… is a treasure beyond measure. Don't ever let him slip from your grasp again."
Zhao Xiao nodded, warmth flowing through him, washing away the darkness that had clouded his heart minutes before.
"I… truly misjudged the world," he thought. Fear had made him see threats everywhere. "But in reality… there are still people who care. Still hands willing to help without expecting anything."
He glanced at Zhao Long, who held the hem of his clothes tightly, afraid of losing him again. That small happiness made his legs feel lighter, though his body was still on the verge of collapsing earlier.
All that pain… had led to this moment.
But amidst the relief, Zhao Xiao suddenly remembered something.
"The vegetables…" he whispered.
Only now did he realize the basket of ingredients for their dinner had fallen somewhere. The sun was sinking, casting soft golden light over the rooftops. The market was closing; merchants were packing their stalls.
"Should I search the whole market again… or go home with Zhao Long?" He touched his chin, brows furrowed. The vegetables were important, but not as important as his son's safety. Still, responsibility tugged at him.
As he hesitated, Zhao Long tugged his sleeve. "Father… father?"
Zhao Xiao blinked and looked at him. The child's wide, worried eyes were enough to soften his heart instantly. He sighed and smiled gently, brushing the boy's hair.
"It's alright, Long'er. Those vegetables… are nothing to worry about now."
In his heart, he whispered, "Right… nothing could ever replace you, Long'er." Warmth flowed through him. The choice was easy.
"We should go home. It's getting late," he said softly.
Zhao Long nodded quickly, as if afraid delaying would make his father disappear again.
They took their first step when someone called out behind them.
"Wait a moment!"
Zhao Xiao turned. A young woman with fair skin and flowing red hair approached. She carried a small basket filled with some bread—and to his surprise, the exact same vegetables he had bought earlier. The evening light made her crimson hair glimmer gold as the wind lifted its ends.
She smiled warmly, her expression soft and clear. "Here," she said, offering the basket. "I saw you drop your groceries while you were searching for your child. I… couldn't just ignore it."
Zhao Xiao stared for a few seconds before accepting it with both hands. "I… I don't know how to thank you…" he said, voice trembling—not with fear now, but gratitude.
The woman shook her head gently. "No need to repay me. A father who loves his child… is a rare sight."
Zhao Long waved his tiny hand at her and the old woman behind. "Thank you!" he shouted happily.
The red-haired woman giggled. "Don't wander away from your father again, alright?"
Zhao Long nodded strongly, and Zhao Xiao simply smiled.
With steps lighter than before, Zhao Xiao and Zhao Long walked home, leaving the market slowly sinking into the soft glow of dusk.