The estate held its Awakening Ceremony every year in the second month of spring.
Children of servant blood rarely attended unless sponsored. Yuhao wasn't. But he already knew he would be there.
No one had noticed him, which was the point.
He had cleaned floors, fetched water, mended storage baskets—all while listening. The ceremony would take place at the rear hall near the old spirit array platform. No guards stood watch at dawn, only after breakfast.
He memorized every step in and out.
He wasn't going for approval. He didn't need elders, robes, or declarations.
He just needed the awakening itself.
---
The night before, he sat with Yun'er beneath the paper window. A soft wind stirred the candle flame.
"You're leaving tomorrow," she said softly.
He paused, then nodded.
"Will you come back after?"
Another pause. Then, "Only to get you."
Her eyes glistened. Not with surprise—she had seen this coming. She had seen it since he began brewing medicine better than estate physicians. Since he stopped stumbling when walking with heavy pails.
Since he began watching everyone too quietly for a child.
---
He reached into the floorboard and pulled out the clay jar of coins.
"You found where I hid them," she whispered.
He nodded again, placed a small cloth-wrapped parcel on her lap. Inside were three folded sets of boiled herbs, dried meats, and salted greens—small rations packed from weeks of effort.
"You planned everything."
His gaze didn't waver.
She looked down. "Where are we going?"
"Heaven Dou," he said simply.
Yun'er blinked, surprised by the name.
"A long way."
He didn't reply.
---
The system projected a faint interface over his vision.
> [Martial Soul Awakening Route Confirmed]
[Host Preparation: Physical—Complete / Mental—Complete]
[Soul Ring Absorption: Delayed. Awaiting Post-Awakening Plan]
[Sharingan: Fully Synchronized – Three Tomoe Genjutsu Aptitude (x10)]
[Stealth Rating: High. Escape Risk: Minimal]
At dawn, he would awaken.
Then, they would vanish.
---
The final evening was quiet.
Yuhao sat on the floor sharpening a piece of broken metal into a rough blade—not for defense. Just for cutting rope, cloth, or vines on the road. He tested its weight, balance, and draw time from his waistband.
Outside, crickets hummed low. The last warmth of spring lingered on the stone walls.
Yun'er sat with a thin blanket wrapped around her shoulders, watching him.
"You're always careful."
He stopped and looked at her.
"I'm glad," she said, voice gentle. "But don't forget to breathe too."
He lowered the blade.
Then walked over, placed her hand over his chest.
"Still breathing."
She smiled, eyes wet.
---
That night, he didn't sleep.
He sat cross-legged beside her and regulated his breathing, slow and deep, feeling the last calm before the threshold changed.
Tomorrow would bring power.
And with it—freedom.
Not for conquest. Not for pride.
Just for her.