"Dumplings are here, Young Master—still warm!"
Zhao Ping'er chirped as she entered the room, balancing a wooden tray heaped with steaming dumplings. Zhao Xunan closed his cultivation manual, setting it aside, and together they arranged the dishes on the low table by the heated kang bed. The sight of the fragrant dumplings, curling with heat, drew a smile to his face.
"A new year's here," Zhao Xunan said, glancing at the steam curling toward the ceiling. "Time to settle the monthly stipends."
Zhao Ping'er tilted her head, her ponytail bobbing. With a playful pout, she reached out and tugged his sleeve. "You always say that… but you know I just want a few extra coins for candied plums!"
Zhao Xunan laughed, pulling her onto the kang. He tapped the embroidered pouch at his waist. "All our savings are here. Take what you need."
"…You're too soft, Master," she huffed, though her eyes sparkled. She plucked a dumpling from the tray and popped it into his mouth. They laughed as steam fogged the air between them.
A clear, lingering bell rang out, cutting through the chatter of fireworks. It was the sound of the ancient bell at Shuijing Temple, marking the start of the Kaiyuan era.
"Clang!"
A plate slipped from the table, shattering on the floor. Zhao Ping'er started to kneel, but Zhao Xunan stayed her hand. He pushed open the window instead, letting in the cold night air—and the glow of a thousand fireworks painting the sky.
"Peace through the ages," Zhao Xunan murmured, wrapping an arm around her as they watched the display. "Old year out, new year in."
The bell tolled twelve times, slow and sonorous. Zhao Xunan's eyes drifted shut, his head resting on Zhao Ping'er's shoulder. The weariness of his frail body finally caught up; he'd forced himself to stay awake all night, but now… sleep claimed him.
When dawn broke, the quiet of Qingliang Prefecture shattered. Servants hurried through the streets, exchanging New Year's greetings, while the Li Manor buzzed with visitors—officials and merchants bearing gifts, their laughter filling the air.
But in the east wing, the small courtyard remained still. Zhao Xunan stirred only when a page boy knocked, his face pale.
"Master… Master Ran passed last night."
Zhao Xunan's heart skipped. Ran Sheng—old, scarred, but kind—had been like a father to him. Last night, they'd shared wine and laughed about the New Year. How could he be gone?
"He was found buried in snow near the South Mountain," the page said. "The steward buried him quietly, to keep the mood light for the celebrations. No family… so we're handling it."
Zhao Xunan's jaw tightened. He grabbed twenty copper coins from Zhao Ping'er and handed them to the page. "Thank you for telling me. Take this as a token."
Back in their room, Zhao Ping'er buried her face in her hands, tears soaking her sleeves. "He… he was fine yesterday. How could he just…?"
Zhao Xunan said nothing. He fetched incense, paper, and a cart, leading her to the South Mountain gravesite. By the time they arrived, a simple tombstone stood there, carved only with "Ran Sheng."
He knelt, burning paper after paper of joss. Zhao Ping'er sobbed, her small frame shaking.
"This world…" Zhao Xunan muttered, his voice hoarse. "It's the same as before, yet different. Why do good people suffer?"
He thought of Ran Sheng's life—decades defending the border, only to die alone in the snow. Resentment flickered in his chest. This… is it even the same world?
"Master… your hands!" Zhao Ping'er gasped.
Zhao Xunan looked down. Where he'd traced a line on the tombstone, stone dust fluttered to the ground—smooth, as if carved by a chisel. His fingertips glowed faintly, a leftover trace of his past life's cultivation.
"Shh," he said, squeezing her shoulder. "A secret. Your Master's learned a thing or two."
Later, as they rode back to Li Manor in a horse-drawn cart, Zhao Ping'er asked, "Why don't we go home? The Li estate is warm."
"We will," Zhao Xunan said. "But first… I need a place of my own. Somewhere I can breathe."
He'd decided: no more relying on the Li family's charity. With the New Year's windfall, he'd rented a small house near the East Gate. It had a well, a clean yard, and space to practice.
"But… your betrothal to Miss Li?" Zhao Ping'er fretted. "She's the 'Phoenix of the North'—everyone says so. How can you leave her?"
Zhao Xunan's expression hardened. "A phoenix deserves a cedar, not a weed like me. She'll find someone better."
"But… what if you change your mind?"
He laughed, though his heart ached. "Ping'er, I've seen the future. The Phoenix's path doesn't include me. Better to part now than humiliate us both later."
The rental house was modest but cozy. Zhao Xunan spent the afternoon sweeping, mending, and arranging his books—including the Fuyao Manual. That night, under the glow of an oil lamp, he tried to cultivate.
But no matter how he focused, his dantian remained empty. No spiritual root, no cultivation.
"C'est la vie," he muttered, tossing the manual aside. "First, strength. Then… everything else."
The next morning, Zhao Ping'er woke to the sound of clashing steel. She peeked outside to see Zhao Xunan in the yard, swinging a sword like an axe.
"That's not swordplay, Master!" she called. "You look like a butcher chopping meat!"
He paused, grinning. "Swords are for gentlemen. Knives are for kings. Right now… I'm a king in training."
Li Ze Yuan returned on the sixth day of the New Year. Zhao Xunan went to greet him, but first, a servant stopped him.
"Master Zhao, the Madam requests your presence. There's… something to discuss."
Zhao Xunan's gut tightened. The Madam—Li Ze Yuan's wife—had never liked him. But with his new status, maybe she'd finally see reason.
He followed the servant into the main hall, where Li Ze Yuan sat behind a desk, his brow furrowed.
"Xunan," he said. "I've heard… you're considering leaving the Li estate."
Zhao Xunan nodded. "With your permission, Uncle. I need space to grow."
Li Ze Yuan sighed. "Very well. But first… about Miss Li."
Zhao Xunan stilled. Here it was. The betrothal. The "Phoenix" he'd been avoiding.
"I know your thoughts," Li Ze Yuan said. "But Miss Li… she's not like other girls. She's destined for great things. If you leave now, you'll regret it."
Zhao Xunan met his gaze. "Uncle, I've seen her path. It doesn't include me. Better to part cleanly."
Li Ze Yuan studied him, then nodded slowly. "Very well. But remember—opportunities come to those who dare. Don't let pride blind you."
As Zhao Xunan left, he felt a chill. Somewhere, a storm was brewing. And he'd be ready.