Feng Xiu stared at the boy. The request was so simple. So innocent. Built on a foundation of kindness that the Lin Clan barely possessed.
The silence stretched. The wind died down. The artificial twilight began to bleed into the sky, turning the clouds a bruised purple.
Feng Xiu couldn't do it. He couldn't keep the mask on any longer. The disparity between Lin Kai's hopeful plans and the crushing reality was too great.
"Kai..."
The tone of his voice made Lin Kai stop. The smile on the boy's face faltered, then slowly faded as he took in the old man's devastating expression.
"Master Feng?" Lin Kai asked, his voice dropping to a whisper. "What happened? Did... did Deacon Quan say no to the ship ticket? I can wait for the next one. It's okay. I can work in the kitchens until then."
Feng Xiu closed his eyes. Tears leaked out, tracing the deep ravines of his face.
"The Clan Leader," Feng Xiu choked out, forcing the words through the lump in his throat. "He rejected your request."
Lin Kai froze.
"He rejected...?"
"You cannot leave," Feng Xiu said, his voice defeated, hollow. "You are forbidden from leaving the Ancestral Pocket Realm. You are forbidden from entering Flame Cloud City. You are to remain in this Southern Quadrant wildness... indefinitely."
The words hung in the air like a sentence of execution.
Lin Kai didn't scream. He didn't rage. He just stood there, the charcoal stick slipping from his numb fingers. It hit the ground with a soft snap, breaking in two.
"Why?" Lin Kai whispered, his voice trembling. "I... I just wanted to disappear. I promised to be invisible. I promised to change my name. Why?"
"I don't know," Feng Xiu lied, unable to burden the boy with the truth about his mother and the bait. "I tried... I tried to reason..."
The old man's legs gave out. He began to hunch over, his knees bending, preparing to prostrate himself in the dirt.
"I am helpless," Feng Xiu sobbed, his dignity shattering. "I am a useless old man. I couldn't save you. Forgive me, Kai. Forgive me!"
He started to bow, shame radiating from him in waves.
Whoosh.
Before Feng Xiu's knees could touch the ground, a pair of strong, callous hands caught him by the shoulders.
Lin Kai held him up.
The boy was trembling. His face was pale, his eyes wide and glassy with unshed tears, but his grip was firm.
"Don't," Lin Kai said, his voice cracking. "Don't bow to me, Master Feng."
"But I failed you..."
"You are the only one who didn't," Lin Kai pulled the old man into a hug. It was clumsy and desperate. He buried his face in the coarse fabric of the healer's robe, his body shaking with silent sobs.
"It's okay," Lin Kai choked out, comforting the man who was supposed to be comforting him. "I'm used to it. I'm used to disappointment. It's just... just another day in the Lin Clan, right?"
He laughed, a wet, broken sound. "At least I still have my hut. At least I have you. I have Xiao Bai also. So many things."
Feng Xiu stood there, stunned by the resilience of the child in his arms. He slowly raised his hand and patted Lin Kai's back, feeling the tension in the boy's muscles—muscles that had been pushed to the limit during his training earlier that day.
"I know it is meaningless to say," Feng Xiu whispered into the boy's hair. "But do not lose hope, Kai. You are something. I am sure of it. The Prism saw the Darkness. You are not empty."
Lin Kai didn't answer. The adrenaline of the day—the training, the hope, the art, the crushing despair—finally took its toll.
His body went slack. His breathing turned heavy and rhythmic.
He had passed out from emotional exhaustion.
"Sleep, child," Feng Xiu murmured.
With a thought, the old healer channeled a stream of gentle wood-attribute Qi. He lifted Lin Kai's sleeping form into the air as if he weighed nothing.
He carried him into the hut. The interior was sparse—a straw bed, a cold stove, a rickety table. Feng Xiu lowered him onto the bed, covering him with the thin woolen blanket.
Lin Kai's face was stained with tear tracks, but in sleep, he looked peaceful.
Creak.
The door pushed open further. Xiao Bai padded in. She didn't make a sound. She hopped onto the bed and curled up next to Lin Kai's head, her golden eyes glowing in the gloom. She looked at Feng Xiu, and for a moment, the beast and the elder shared a look of profound understanding.
"Xiao Bai," Feng Xiu whispered. "Don't disturb him. Let him rest."
He paused, looking at the small white fox.
"Please," he added, his voice solemn. "Take care of him. I cannot stay for long. The eyes of the Clan are watching. You are his only guard now."
Xiao Bai nodded—a distinct, human-like nod. She swirled her three tails around Lin Kai's head, creating a protective barrier of warmth. She laid her chin on her paws, her gaze turning toward the door, vigilantly watching the darkness.
Feng Xiu smiled sadly. "Good."
He turned and walked out, closing the door gently and sliding the wooden latch into place.
Outside, the artificial sky had fully darkened. The sun mechanism had set, replaced by the glowing formations that mimicked constellations. It was a beautiful, flawless night sky.
And it was completely fake.
Feng Xiu looked up at the glittering dome that trapped them all.
"Is this his destiny?" Feng Xiu asked the silent stars. "To rot here? To be a prisoner of his own bloodline?"
He looked back at the hut one last time, where the portrait of Lin Yun'er still sat on the easel outside, smiling eternally at a future that would never happen.
"No," Feng Xiu muttered, gripping his staff as he began the long walk back to his home. "A dragon cannot be kept in a pond forever. Eventually... he will either drown, or he will break the sky."
With a heavy heart, the old healer faded into the shadows of the forest, leaving the boy and his fox to face the long night alone.