Su Ningyan lay on his stomach, jaw pressed into the pillow, fingers absently turning the flute over and over.
No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't push tonight out of his mind.
Six hours had passed since the battle ended. Six hours since he'd chosen to return to Yan Wuhen's manor, alive, somehow, just to sit with the weight of it all.
He could have died.
That truth settled heavily in his chest.
To the dragons, he had been nothing more than an insect. Easily crushed. Easily ignored. And not just to them, to everyone.
I'm still too weak.
There was no demonic qi to cheat his way forward. No shortcuts. And unlike others, he hadn't been cultivating since childhood.
If he wanted strength, he would have to crawl toward it.
Slowly.
He set the flute aside and closed his eyes.
Lightning split the heavens behind his lids.
Two dragons dropped from the sky like lifeless dolls.
His breath hitched.
Jun Haoxuan…
