Night pulled itself over the little camp like a worn but loyal blanket. The shelters that Qiuhan erected earlier—canvas, rope, and the faint whisper of formation script—sat in two curved rows around the brazier's orange glow. The rescued lay inside those shelters: some asleep, some restless, some clinging to the sound of the crackling fire as if it were a lifeline keeping them from drowning.
Haoyang walked among them with a lantern swaying gently from his hand. The light revealed faces bruised, gaunt, weathered, but alive. Thirty souls they had dragged out of the slavers' grip, now settled beside the three children who had been here since the beginning—Liang Shan, Liang Yue, and little Ping'er.
Ping'er tugged Haoyang's sleeve.
"Young Lord… are they gonna be okay?"
Haoyang knelt so their eyes were level. "They will," he said, voice quiet but sure. "We keep them warm. We give them food. And tomorrow, we give them hope."
The girl nodded fiercely as if agreeing to terms of a contract she had just written in her heart.
Liang Shan stood guard nearby, gripping his wooden stick with the solemnity of a sentry defending a fortress.
"If anyone comes back," he muttered, "I'll hit them. Twice."
"You won't need to," Haoyang said gently. "Tonight, no danger comes near us."
A low, amused breath stirred the cold. Qiuhan had stepped close, arms folded behind his back. The Heaven Immortal steward surveyed the camp the way a master carpenter examines the joinery of a roof.
"Young Master," he said, voice steady as polished jade, "the people are calmer when you speak. They rest easier because they believe you mean what you say."
"And do you?" Haoyang asked.
Qiuhan's gaze softened. "Of course."
It was then—when the quiet fell just right—that the System slid into Haoyang's mind with all the grace of a gremlin jumping across a control panel.
[SYSTEM]:
HEY. HOST. TIME FOR A STATUS PULSE.
Initiating diagnostics.
Population = 35 squishy units.
Structural integrity = "will collapse if sneezed on."
Morale = recovering.
Blessing Module = loaded.
RECOMMENDATION: Deploy Blessing Bomb v1.0.
Haoyang rubbed his brow. "Not a bomb," he muttered under his breath.
Ping'er blinked. "Young Lord? You say something?"
"Just thinking," Haoyang replied quickly.
[SYSTEM]: YOU SHOULD SAY 'THANK YOU, ENGINEER.'
Also: pajamas are statistically embarrassing. Do you want dignity? Y/N.
"Not now," Haoyang hissed silently.
Qiuhan watched him for a moment, then stepped closer and spoke quietly.
"Young Master… you're planning something."
Haoyang didn't deny it. "I need to help them. All of them."
Qiuhan bowed slightly—more respect than agreement. "Then instruct me. I will secure the perimeter."
Haoyang rose. "Thank you."
He walked toward the brazier at the center of the camp. The rescued stirred as he passed. Some sat up. Some bowed their heads without meaning to. When Haoyang raised his lantern, the light washed across their worn faces and pooled in their wide eyes.
"Everyone," he said, voice resonant and patient, "come closer. I want to speak with you."
People gathered slowly. A woman with a bruised neck leaned on a younger man. Two children hid behind their mother but peeked out when Haoyang smiled. Soon, all thirty gathered in a rough circle around him, the fire crackling between them like a heart learning to beat again.
Liang Yue stepped forward with her ledger pressed to her chest.
"Do you need me to take names, Young Lord?"
"You've already done well today," Haoyang said. "Stay close."
Qiuhan stood just outside the circle, a quiet sentinel. "Proceed, Young Master," he murmured.
The breeze shifted. The world seemed to draw a breath.
Haoyang closed his eyes.
[SYSTEM]: HEY. READY TO DROP THE BIG ONE?
Blessing payload calibrated: Qi Refining + Minor Body Tempering.
FX mode: "Healing Halo" — very aesthetic.
Recipient count: 35.
Safety rating: 99.8%.
Press start, Host.
Haoyang opened his eyes and whispered, "Execute."
The lantern flickered.
And the world lit.
It began as a faint shimmer above Haoyang's palms—like dew catching morning's first light. Then it expanded outward in a slow, deliberate wave. Symbols—soft, ancient-looking runes—emerged like breath on glass. They circled him, gentle and reverent, before drifting outward toward the ring of people.
Someone gasped.
Another fell to their knees.
A warm, golden halo spread through the night like a sunrise blooming in slow motion. The fire reflected it, making the whole shelter glow as though dawn had arrived early just to watch.
Liang Shan's stick dropped from his hand. "W–whoa…"
Liang Yue whispered, "This… feels like… light…"
Ping'er squeezed her eyes shut, then laughed—small and bright. "Young Lord's doing magic!"
The halo pressed gently against each chest, each pair of trembling shoulders. Bones loosened. Tight muscles unclenched. Old pain dissolved like steam over a kettle.
A middle-aged man touched his own arm, stunned.
"I… I feel… lighter."
A young woman who hadn't spoken since the rescue whispered, "My breath doesn't hurt anymore…"
Qiuhan's expression did not change—but his posture did.
His eyes narrowed. His shoulders straightened.
"Young Master," he murmured softly enough for only Haoyang to hear,
"This… is no mortal art."
Haoyang didn't answer.
[SYSTEM]: AWWWW YEAH. PAYLOAD GOOD. FORMATION CLEAN.
Zero world-rupture events.
Blessing success rate: 35/35.
They are now officially less-squishy.
YOU'RE WELCOME.
Haoyang fought a smile.
Around him, the people continued reacting:
A father dropped to his knees. "Young Master, are you… some high healer?"
A mother clutched her two children. "Why would you help us?"
A ragged woman touched her own chest. "Why give us strength we don't deserve?"
Haoyang raised his hand, quieting the murmurs.
"You do deserve it," he said. "Every single one of you. You were hurt. You survived. Strength is not a gift—it is a right. And from this night onward, you are no longer prey."
Silence.
The kind that roots itself into the soil.
Qiuhan bowed his head slightly. "Young Master speaks truth."
Haoyang stepped closer to the fire. Its flames reflected in his eyes like polished gold.
"This place," he said, "needs a name."
Liang Yue whispered, "A name makes it real."
Haoyang nodded. "A name is a promise."
He looked at the thirty faces: bruised, trembling, but shining now with the faint foundation of Qi.
"This will be a sanctuary," he said. "A place where no slaver can step. Where children will eat and sleep safely. Where you will work and learn and grow without fear. A place lit by the strength we build together."
He breathed out
"I name this place Mingxuan. 明轩.
A Bright Pavilion Under Heaven.
A home that keeps light."
Light rippled again—softer than the blessing, but deeper.
Liang Yue wrote the name in her ledger, tears streaking down her cheeks.
"Mingxuan…" she whispered. "It sounds like dawn."
The rescued murmured it one by one:
"Mingxuan…"
"Mingxuan…"
"Bright Pavilion…"
"Safety…"
Ping'er hopped once. "Mingxuan! That's our home now!"
Even Qiuhan allowed a small, respectful smile.
"An auspicious name, Young Master."
[SYSTEM]: NAME CONFIRMED.
Domain: MINGXUAN (Lv. 1 Sanctuary).
Morale spike: +87%.
Host, do you hear the applause? That's me. I'm applauding.
Also your pajamas are still statistically embarrassing.
Haoyang exhaled a laugh he didn't mean to release.
"Shut up…"
"Hmm?" Qiuhan blinked. "Young Master?"
"Nothing," Haoyang said quickly. "Just—breathing."
A trembling old man raised his hand.
"Lord Haoyang… Young Lord… what should we do now?"
Haoyang stepped forward among them, lantern light crowning his face.
"We do what humans do," he said.
"We heal. We work. We learn."
"And we protect each other."
A quiet but determined hum rose through the crowd.
Liang Shan wiped his nose and planted his stick into the dirt.
"I'll guard Mingxuan. Every day."
Liang Yue raised her ledger.
"I'll write every name so no one disappears again."
Ping'er lifted her chin.
"I'll run messages!"
Haoyang's smile warmed the circle.
"And I will stand with you. Every step."
Qiuhan clasped his hands behind his back. "And I will ensure no harm reaches this place."
A rescued mother bowed. "Then we swear it. Mingxuan will not fall."
One by one, every person bowed, knelt, or placed a hand over their heart. Some did all three.
Haoyang looked at them and felt something tighten and break loose in his chest all at once.
This was no longer a roadside rescue.
This was the birth of a people.
Status Update (Hidden)The System fed a quiet overlay into Haoyang's mind:
[STATUS UPDATE — MINGXUAN]
Population: 5 → 35
Cultivation Base: 35 Qi Refining (Early)
Shelter Level: Basic
Water Level: Functional
Food Supply: Insufficient (but fixable)
Morale: Stabilizing
Economic Output: Near zero
Threat Zone: Low–Moderate (slaver retaliation probable)
NEXT TASK SUGGESTED:
Establish food security & basic training.
Reward: ??? (Hehehehehe)
Haoyang sighed. "Not helping, you little gremlin"
[SYSTEM]: I AM HELPING.
YOU'RE BEING UNGRATEFUL.
ALSO YOUR HAIR IS 11% TOO FLOPPY.
Haoyang dragged a hand through his hair.
Qiuhan, misreading, asked, "Young Master? A headache?"
"Nothing serious," Haoyang said quickly. "Let's rest."
Qiuhan nodded. "I will take the first watch."
As the rescued drifted into sleep—Qi Refining cores flickering like tiny lanterns—Haoyang sat beside the dying fire. Qiuhan stood at his back, silent and alert. The name Mingxuan felt warm in Haoyang's mouth and heavy in his chest, like an oath bound not by ceremony but by conviction.
[SYSTEM]: HOST… good job.
Like, really good job.
Blessing Bomb v1.0 was a huge success.
Requesting celebration snack.
Request level: EXTREMELY IMPORTANT.
Haoyang plucked the last dried fruit from his sleeve and held it still in his hand.
"You get one," he muttered.
[SYSTEM]: ACCEPTED! EXECUTING SNACK PROTOCOL.
The camp quieted again.
Mingxuan, born tonight, breathed like a tiny star.
And Haoyang, absolute origin locked inside mortal skin, watched over it with the weight of a promise he intended to keep.