Xiao Yu liked the quiet places.
Not because she was shy—she wasn't—but because the quiet made it easier to hear things other people missed.
Right now, she sat on a flat stone behind the orphanage, legs swinging slowly as the wind brushed past her face. Ye Chang sat beside her, knees drawn up, staring at the ground.
He always stared at the ground.
"You didn't eat much today," Xiao Yu said.
Ye Chang flinched.
"I did," he replied quickly.
She tilted her head and studied him. "You're lying again."
He opened his mouth, then closed it.
Xiao Yu sighed and leaned closer, pressing her shoulder lightly against his arm. He stiffened at first, then relaxed—just a little.
She could feel it.
Not qi. Not like Gang Hua described.
Something else.
A tightness. Like Ye Chang was holding his breath even when he wasn't.
Ever since his parents died, Ye Chang had felt like a cracked bowl filled with water. No matter how much care people poured in, something always leaked out.
Xiao Yu didn't understand cultivation.
But she understood people.
"Did you go to the cliff again?" she asked softly.
Ye Chang didn't answer.
That was answer enough.
She grabbed his sleeve with both hands. "You promised."
"I didn't go all the way," he said quickly. "I just sat near it."
"That's worse," Xiao Yu said. Her voice trembled, betraying her anger. "You said you wouldn't go alone."
Ye Chang looked away.
The wind picked up, fluttering her hair.
"I'm scared," Xiao Yu said suddenly.
That made him look at her.
"Why?"
She hesitated, then spoke anyway. "Because sometimes when you look at the mountains, it feels like you're already leaving."
Ye Chang froze.
Xiao Yu pressed on before he could pull away.
"You smile more now," she said. "Especially when Gang Hua is around. But when he leaves… you go quiet again."
Her fingers tightened around his sleeve.
"I don't want you to disappear."
For a long moment, Ye Chang didn't speak.
Then, very quietly, he said, "I don't deserve to stay."
Xiao Yu's chest hurt.
She raised her small fist and punched his arm—not hard.
"Don't say that."
He didn't react.
She punched him again, harder this time. "Don't say that."
Ye Chang winced. "That hurts."
"Good," she said stubbornly. "Then you're still here."
He stared at her.
And for just a moment—just one—something in his eyes shifted. Not happiness. Not peace.
But hesitation.
As if, for the first time, he was considering the idea that maybe… staying was allowed.
Xiao Yu felt it immediately.
Like a knot loosening.
She smiled, small and triumphant.
That was when a familiar voice cut in.
"Wow," Gang Hua said, hands on his hips. "I leave for one afternoon and suddenly you're bullying him."
Xiao Yu turned, eyes lighting up. "Gang Hua!"
She ran over and hugged his leg without warning.
Gang Hua stiffened. Then awkwardly patted her head. "Hey—hey—warning first."
Ye Chang watched them.
Something warm flickered in his chest.
Gang Hua crouched down. "What happened? Did he try to brood again?"
Ye Chang scowled. "I wasn't brooding."
Xiao Yu pointed at him immediately. "He was."
Gang Hua nodded. "Thought so."
Ye Chang opened his mouth to argue, then stopped.
He exhaled.
"…Maybe a little."
Gang Hua blinked, surprised.
Xiao Yu grinned.
Gang Hua laughed. "See? Progress."
As they walked back toward the orphanage together, Xiao Yu stayed between them—one hand holding Ye Chang's sleeve, the other occasionally reaching for Gang Hua's fingers when she stumbled.
Neither boy pulled away.
From a distance, Miss Ye watched the three of them, eyes soft.
She didn't know why, but seeing them together eased something heavy in her chest.
Gang Hua glanced down at Xiao Yu.
She was humming softly, a tuneless melody.
He felt it then.
A faint shift in the air.
Not dangerous.
Not chaotic.
But different.
…She stabilizes him, Gang Hua realized again. Not with qi. With presence.
And Ye Chang—
Ye Chang was watching Xiao Yu like she was an anchor.
That night, as Gang Hua lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the image stayed with him.
And the way Xiao Yu, without cultivation or strength, held together something that even powerful spiritual roots couldn't fix.
Maybe strength isn't always about force, he thought.
Outside, the wind passed quietly through the village.
And for once—
Ye Chang slept without dreaming of falling