Beijing's early summer arrived without ceremony.
The heat crept in through open windows, cicadas clinging to tree trunks along the streets, while the city carried on—unaware that beneath its concrete skin, the Golden Era was quietly reorganizing everything.
For the Fang household, that reorganization came in the form of luggage.
Two medium-sized suitcases stood near the door.
Neatly packed. Properly labeled.
Fang Yuhan checked them once more, fingers pressing down on the zippers as if testing reality.
"ID. Admission letter. Bank card."
She paused. "Phone charger."
Fang Xiaoyu raised her hand from the couch. "Already in the side pocket. I checked."
Fang Yuhan nodded. "Good."
Fang Linying hovered nearby, holding a reusable bag stuffed with snacks, supplements, and at least three items that clearly didn't belong on any packing list.
"You don't have to eat cafeteria food every day," she said seriously. "Your stomach is sensitive."
"Mom," Fang Yuhan replied patiently, "it's Beihang University, not a wilderness expedition."
Fang Yubo adjusted his tie and cleared his throat. "Dorm life builds independence. Don't overdo it."
Fang Linying shot him a look. "You lived off instant noodles for six years."
"That was character building."
Fang Ze watched the scene from the dining table, calm and observant.
To outsiders, this was nothing more than a capable daughter heading to a top-tier university.
To him, it was a node.
Beihang University sat close to multiple research institutes, old military facilities, and—more importantly—an emerging Qi density fluctuation that would only become obvious years later.
In his previous life, Fang Yuhan had entered university during chaos.
This time, she entered during calm.
That mattered.
"You don't look nervous," Fang Yuhan said suddenly, turning to Fang Ze.
He shrugged. "Why should I?"
"You're usually more… watchful."
"Maybe I trust you," he replied.
She studied him for a moment, then smiled faintly. "You've been strange lately."
"Define strange."
"Like you're older than you look."
Fang Xiaoyu snorted. "He lectures me like a grandpa."
"That's because you deserve it," Fang Ze said without missing a beat.
Laughter broke the tension.
When they finally stepped outside, the air shimmered faintly—nothing visible, nothing dramatic. Just the quiet hum Fang Ze now noticed everywhere.
A passing student stumbled slightly.
A cyclist braked too late.
Minor disturbances. Nothing dangerous.
Yet.
At the curb, Fang Ze helped load the suitcases into the car.
As Fang Yuhan climbed in, she hesitated.
"Hey."
He looked up.
"Don't cause trouble while I'm gone," she said.
He smiled. "I'll try."
She paused, then added, quieter, "And… take care of Xiaoyu."
Fang Ze met her eyes steadily. "Always."
The car pulled away.
As it merged into traffic, Fang Ze's senses stretched outward—briefly, carefully.
Beihang University.
Stable for now.
But attention was gathering.
Not from cultivators.
From systems.
Institutions.
Observers who hadn't yet realized what they were observing.
Behind him, Fang Xiaoyu tugged his sleeve.
"It's quieter without her."
"It won't be for long," Fang Ze replied.
That evening, Fang Ze sat cross-legged in his room, breathing slow and even.
His Qi moved like a deep river—steady, refined, obedient.
No turbulence.
No excess.
Outside, Beijing continued to adapt.
Online, the Golden List remained the hottest topic.
New names surfaced.
Old rankings were challenged.
Speculation grew louder.
And somewhere within Beihang University's vast campus, Fang Yuhan stepped into a new environment—one that would, in time, brush against the same undercurrents reshaping the nation.
Fang Ze opened his eyes.
"Everyone is taking their first steps," he thought.
Some toward brilliance.
Some toward ruin.
Some without realizing they'd already entered the game.
The Golden Era didn't announce itself with explosions.
It began like this.
With ordinary departures.