Morning dawned pale and bruised, the sun rising over walls scarred by battle. Smoke still clung to the air, mingling with the coppery tang of blood. Disciples moved about with weary steps, carrying the wounded, collecting the dead, patching shattered stone with trembling hands.
Azure Heaven Sect had survived the night, but the cost weighed heavy.
Jiang Hao stood on the eastern wall, his sleeves rolled to the elbow as he helped stack broken stones back into place. His movements were unhurried, deliberate, like a craftsman taking quiet satisfaction in simple labor.
A group of junior disciples whispered behind him, their eyes darting nervously.
"Did you see? He walked straight through the battle as if the blades feared him.""I heard he killed three executioners without lifting a finger.""Nonsense. If he were that strong, why would he still be stuck at the Foundation Realm?""But… I saw it with my own eyes!"
Jiang Hao pretended not to hear, though his lips tugged faintly upward. Rumors again. They'll make me sound like a monster if I don't rein it in.
He stacked another stone carefully, brushed the dust from his palms, and straightened. The sun was warm. His tea flask was finally full again. Life, at last, was returning to order.
Or so he hoped.
Lin Xueyao approached, her sword strapped across her back, her clothes freshly washed but her eyes shadowed with fatigue. She halted a few steps away, staring at him with a mixture of confusion and frustration.
"You."
Jiang Hao glanced sideways. "Me."
"You fought last night," she said firmly.
He sipped his tea. "Did I?"
Her brows furrowed. "Don't play coy. I saw you. You killed that executioner with… with nothing. No sword, no seal, no technique. You barely even breathed."
Jiang Hao shrugged. "Perhaps he tripped."
The corner of her lips twitched, part anger, part disbelief. "Why do you hide it? Why act like some lazy mortal when you clearly…" She stopped, lowering her voice. "When you clearly carry power that no one here can fathom."
Jiang Hao leaned against the wall, eyes half-lidded, voice low and calm. "Because I've seen what happens when you flaunt power. You gain enemies. Enemies breed war. War breeds corpses. I want peace, not corpses."
Her breath caught at his words. There was no arrogance, no boast in them. Only weariness, deep and unshakable, like an old wound carried quietly.
She swallowed. "And what of us? What of the sect? If you hide, how can we rely on you?"
Jiang Hao tilted his head, studying her. "You already rely on me. Just not in the way you think."
Silence stretched between them, heavy and taut. Lin Xueyao felt her cheeks warm despite herself, her chest tightening in ways she didn't want to admit. She turned away abruptly, muttering, "You're infuriating."
Jiang Hao smiled faintly into his tea. "I've been told."
Down in the inner courtyard, Elder Tian stood before the Sect Master. The great hall still bore cracks from the night's duel, the incense smoke barely masking the scent of scorched qi.
"You saw him," Elder Tian said quietly.
The Sect Master, robed in deep azure, nodded once. His eyes, sharp as blades, softened for a moment. "I saw. He is not what he pretends to be."
"Then what will you do?"
The Sect Master turned his gaze toward the mountains beyond the window, where the Demon Sect's shadow still lingered. "Nothing. Not yet. He wishes to remain hidden—then we shall let him. Perhaps that will keep Heaven's eyes away a little longer."
Elder Tian's lips pressed tight, but he inclined his head. "He is like a son to me. I will guard him with my life."
The Sect Master's voice dropped low. "Then pray it is enough."
Far beyond, in a cave where the air reeked of blood and incense, the Demon Sect elders gathered.
Their leader, cloaked in crimson, slammed a hand against the stone altar, cracking it down the middle. "Twice we have tested Azure Heaven Sect, and twice we have been repelled. This… this ghost among them. Jiang Hao. He is no ordinary disciple."
Another elder sneered. "If he were so mighty, would he still wear those shabby robes? Would he still toil with stones like a servant?"
"You didn't see him." The executioner who had escaped limped forward, his face pale. "We struck together. Our blades stopped in the air. I felt death before me, suffocating, eternal. He is not human. He is calamity wrapped in flesh."
The cavern fell silent.
The leader's eyes glowed red in the dark. "Then we shall return. Not with raiding parties, not with assassins. With an army. If he is calamity, then we will be the storm that drowns him."
Their laughter echoed, a promise that the war was far from over.
By evening, Azure Heaven Sect's banners flew high again, though the mood was subdued. Disciples gathered in the courtyard, honoring the fallen with incense and prayer. The fires burned until the stars climbed overhead.
Jiang Hao stood at the back, hands tucked in his sleeves, his face unreadable. He bowed once to the dead, then turned away.
Lin Xueyao caught sight of him leaving, her lips parting as if to call out, but no words came. She only watched him walk into the night, his silhouette calm, steady, untouchable.
Who are you really, Jiang Hao? she thought, clutching her sword tightly. And why… why can't I look away?
Later, in his small courtyard, Jiang Hao lay back beneath the plum tree, a flask of fresh tea beside him. The air smelled of blossoms. The stars were sharp against the dark sky.
For a long while, he said nothing.
Then, quietly, he sighed. "I only wanted peace. Why is it so hard to keep?"
His eyes closed, and sleep took him gently.
But in the mountains, in the forests, in the shadows of the world, storms gathered again.
And Heaven, though silent, was beginning to turn its gaze.
The sect grounds were quiet after the rites. Torches flickered along the walkways, their light soft against the night's heaviness. For once, no shouting, no steel ringing, no chaos—only the subdued hush of people who had seen too much blood and lived through it.
Jiang Hao lingered at the edge of the courtyard where disciples whispered. Their voices were too low for most to hear, but not for him.
"They say he's the Sect Master's secret weapon.""No, no, Elder Tian raised him. You saw the way he watched him during the fight—it was like a father guarding his child.""Doesn't matter. You can't hide that kind of power forever. Heaven doesn't allow it."
Jiang Hao took another sip of tea, as if the rumors had nothing to do with him. Inside, though, a faint crease formed in his brow.
Heaven doesn't allow it.
The words clung.
When he returned to his courtyard, he found Elder Tian already waiting by the plum tree, arms folded. The old man's stern face softened when he saw Jiang Hao, though he quickly hid it behind a scowl.
"You," Elder Tian barked. "You worked yourself past sundown again. Do you want me to believe you're made of iron?"
Jiang Hao blinked. "I only stacked some stones."
"Stacked some stones, saved half the sect, broke three assassins, and then pretended it was nothing. Do you think I can't see?" Elder Tian's voice shook, though with pride more than anger. "You carry yourself like a shadow, but I know, boy. I know what you are."
Jiang Hao lowered his gaze, silent.
Elder Tian stepped closer, resting a hand on his shoulder. The rare warmth in that gesture pierced through Jiang Hao's calm like sunlight breaking mist.
"You don't have to tell me," Elder Tian said softly. "But hear this. Whatever storm comes for you—be it the Demon Sect, be it Heaven itself—you are not alone. As long as I breathe, you will have someone to stand beside you."
Jiang Hao looked at him then, really looked, and for a brief moment the weariness in his heart eased. He inclined his head. "Thank you, Master."
"Good. Now get some rest before I hit you with my cane," Elder Tian muttered, turning briskly toward the gate. "And don't drink too much tea before bed—it'll rot your stomach."
Jiang Hao almost smiled. Almost.
Later that night, the moon silvered the courtyard. Lin Xueyao stood outside Jiang Hao's gate, her hand raised to knock. She hesitated, her heart beating faster than she cared to admit.
She wanted to demand answers. To ask why he dismissed power that could save them all. To ask why he seemed so far away even when standing before her.
But she lowered her hand, biting her lip. Instead of knocking, she whispered into the still air, "One day, Jiang Hao… you won't be able to hide from me."
And she walked away, her figure melting into the shadows.
Inside, Jiang Hao sat beneath the plum tree, his tea flask cradled in his hands. He had felt her presence at the gate, but chose not to move.
"Too much trouble," he murmured, though the words rang hollow.
Far above the mountain, where no mortal eyes could see, the heavens shimmered faintly. A golden ripple moved across the stars like the faintest breath of wind.
A presence stirred. Watching. Waiting.
Something ancient had turned its gaze toward the Azure Heaven Sect.
Morning came again. Disciples trained in the courtyard, their forms sluggish but determined. Repairs continued, laughter slowly returning in small, fragile bursts.
Life pressed forward.
Jiang Hao, seated on a bench with his flask of tea, watched it all with the calm detachment of a man who had chosen his place in the world.
Whatever storms gathered beyond, whatever shadows whispered his name, he had made his decision.
Nine to five.Tea at sunrise.Peace, whenever he could steal it.
Even if the heavens themselves tried to tear it from him.