For the first time since stepping into the Ascendant Grounds, Chen Yuan slept without cultivation.
That alone felt unnatural.
No circulating qi.
No vigilance stretched to its limit.
No awareness pushed outward like an exposed blade.
Just rest.
When he opened his eyes, morning light filtered through thin paper windows, soft and unthreatening. The room they had rented overlooked an inner street of Qiang City, already alive with voices and movement.
Laughter.
Actual laughter.
Chen Yuan sat up slowly, exhaling.
So this is what safety feels like.
Lin Xue was already awake.
She stood near the window, her long hair loosely tied, watching the street below with mild curiosity rather than caution. When she noticed him stirring, she turned.
"You slept," she said, faint surprise coloring her voice.
"So did you," Chen Yuan replied.
She nodded once. "This city is… quiet. Not weak. Quiet."
"A controlled quiet," Chen Yuan said. "That only exists when everyone knows who stands above them."
As if summoned by the words, a group of children ran past the street below, waving small wooden swords and shouting.
"Qiang Hao strikes again!"
"No one can block that move!"
"I'll be Qiang Hao today!"
Chen Yuan paused.
Lin Xue blinked. Then, after a second, she laughed.
A short sound. Unrestrained.
Chen Yuan looked at her—not sharply, not analytically. Simply looked.
It occurred to him that this might be the first time he had seen her laugh without tension behind it.
They left the inn together.
The streets of Qiang City were broader than most sect settlements, designed for commerce rather than defense. Stalls lined the roads in organized rows. Cultivators and mortals mingled freely, the power imbalance restrained by unspoken rules.
And everywhere—
Qiang Hao.
A vendor waved enthusiastically. "Fresh morning buns! Qiang Hao special! One bite, and you'll feel his spirit!"
Lin Xue slowed. "Did he… approve this?"
Chen Yuan's lips twitched. "I doubt he knows."
They stopped anyway.
The buns were stamped with an absurdly detailed face carved into the dough—sharp eyes, firm jaw, heroic scowl.
Lin Xue stared at it for a long moment.
"…I feel bad eating this."
"You won't," Chen Yuan said, taking a bite of his own.
She hesitated, then followed.
Warm. Soft. Sweet filling.
"…It's good," she admitted.
"Strongest bun of this era," Chen Yuan replied.
She shook her head, a small smile lingering.
Later, Lin Xue stopped abruptly in front of a small shop.
"What is that?" she asked.
The sign displayed a steaming cup painted black, with swirling mist rising from it. Beneath it, bold characters read:
QIANG HAO COFFEE — DRINK THE WILL OF A SUPREME
Inside, the walls were plastered with portraits of Qiang Hao in increasingly dramatic poses. One showed him standing atop a mountain. Another depicted him seated calmly while lightning bent around his silhouette.
The cups themselves bore his face.
Lin Xue picked one up, inspecting it closely. "Why does he look angry?"
"He always looks angry," Chen Yuan said. "It inspires confidence."
They ordered.
The liquid was dark, bitter, steaming faintly.
Lin Xue sniffed it, then took a careful sip.
Her face froze.
"…This is poison."
Chen Yuan took a sip of his own. "It is an acquired taste."
She stared at the cup like it had betrayed her. "People drink this willingly?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
He shrugged. "Suffering builds character."
She took another sip, slower this time. "…It's less terrible now."
Chen Yuan watched her over the rim of his cup, a quiet amusement settling in his chest.
The hot springs lay on the eastern side of the city, nestled against a natural cliff. Steam rose gently into the air, carrying mineral scents that eased the senses.
They chose a secluded pool.
The heat seeped into Chen Yuan's muscles, loosening knots he had not realized were there. For a while, neither spoke.
Lin Xue leaned back against the stone edge, eyes half-closed.
"I forgot what this feels like," she said softly.
"Peace?" Chen Yuan asked.
"Normalcy."
He considered that. "I am not sure I ever knew it."
She opened her eyes, turning her head slightly toward him. "You are calmer here."
"So are you."
A pause.
The steam curled between them.
"…Chen Yuan," she said, quieter now.
"Yes?"
"After we leave this city, things will worsen again."
"Yes."
She nodded, as if confirming something to herself. "Then let us remember this properly."
Their shoulders brushed.
Neither moved away.
As evening fell, they walked the lantern-lit streets.
A massive mural dominated the central square—Qiang Hao standing with his back to the city, gaze fixed toward an unseen horizon. Beneath it, an inscription read:
"As long as he stands, Qiang City will not fall."
Citizens gathered nearby, speaking animatedly.
"I heard Qiang Hao suppressed three rogue sects with a single move."
"No, no—he didn't even draw his weapon."
"My cousin saw him once. Just standing there felt like cultivation."
Lin Xue leaned closer to Chen Yuan. "Is any of that true?"
"Probably exaggerated," he said.
She tilted her head. "Probably?"
He glanced at the mural again. "…But not by much."
They stopped at the edge of the square.
Lantern light reflected in Lin Xue's eyes.
For a moment, there were no elders, no hunts, no masked predators in the shadows.
Just a city that loved its protector too much.
Just two cultivators standing too close.
Chen Yuan allowed himself to stay there.
Just a little longer.