The room went dead still.
Xun Er blinked. Her mask of indifference cracked for a split second.
He... thanked me?
She had expected denial. She had expected him to scream that he would kill Xiao Yan. She had expected him to beg for her favor or cry about unfairness.
She did not expect him to agree with her threat and dismiss it with politeness. It threw her off balance. It was like punching cotton—there was no resistance, and thus, no satisfaction.
"You... know your place?" Xun Er repeated, skepticism coloring her tone. She took a step closer, probing his aura with her own.
"I do," Yoriichi replied simply. "The weak should not provoke the strong without cause. I was weak. I lost. That is the reality."
He paused, and for a moment, the red in his right eye seemed to swirl like magma.
"However," Yoriichi added softly, "strength is not static. Today's loser may be tomorrow's victor. But rest assured, if I face him again, it will be in the arena, under the sun, not in the shadows. I have no interest in petty schemes."
Xun Er stared at him. She felt a strange chill run down her spine—not of fear, but of recognition. This wasn't the speech of a coward giving up. It was the speech of a warrior declaring a ceasefire to sharpen his blade.
She regained her composure quickly, masking her surprise. This boy... he was dangerous. Not because of his power, but because he was unreadable.
"It is good that you understand," Xun Er said, her voice returning to its cool, detached baseline. "I hope you keep your word, Xiao Ning. For your own sake. Good luck with your... recovery."
She didn't wait for a response. She turned on her heel, her purple dress swirling around her ankles, and slipped out of the room. She moved so quietly that she seemed to vanish rather than walk, like smoke dissipating in the wind.
Yoriichi watched the empty doorway for a long moment, his eyes narrowing.
Hmm, Something is near, he noted. What is it? Hope I can manage to probe it in future.
He turned back to his sister.
Xiao Yu was staring at him with her mouth open in a perfect 'O' shape. She looked like she had just seen a pig fly or the sun rise from the west.
Yoriichi smiled—a rare, mischievous quirk of his lips—and reached out to gently push her chin up, closing her mouth with a soft clack.
"What is the matter?" he asked, his tone light. "Why so surprised? Are flies tasty in this region?"
Xiao Yu slapped his hand away, her eyes wide.
"You... you were polite to her?!" she exclaimed, her voice rising an octave in disbelief. "Usually, you're all 'Oh Xun Er, please look at me, I'll buy you the moon, trample on me please!' But now? You sounded like... like you didn't even care! You sounded like an elder!"
She paused, then threw her hands up in dramatic exasperation. "Oh gods, I'm going insane. Sitting with this hopeless brother of mine is warping my reality. Who are you and what have you done with the idiot Ning'er?"
Yoriichi chuckled. He leaned back against the pillows, looking at the wooden ceiling beams.
"That love..." he began thoughtfully, channeling the wisdom of a man who had lived eighty years, a man who had loved and lost everything. "It was like the fever of youth. Every teenager feels it during puberty. It comes like a storm, confusing desire with destiny. But eventually, the storm passes."
He looked at his hands, clenching them into fists. "Sometimes, it stays forever, becoming a demon in the heart. But I have woken up. I understand now what I need to do. Maybe I am not worthy of her. Or maybe... I was simply too weak to see that we are people from different worlds."
He sighed, a sound that carried the weight of a lifetime. "It is useless to chase the moon when you cannot even walk on the ground. I have a sword to forge before I can think of flowers."
Xiao Yu stared at him. The playfulness vanished from her face.
Hearing such simple, yet profoundly heavy words coming from the mouth of her younger brother... it unsettled her. It felt complex. It felt sad. It felt like he had aged ten years in a single day.
He grew up, she realized with a pang of heartache. Getting beaten that badly... it broke his childish dreams. It killed the boy and left a man.
She felt a surge of fierce protectiveness. She lunged forward, grabbing his shoulders with both hands, shaking him gently.
"No, no! Don't think like that!" she insisted, her voice fierce. "You are far more worthy than that cold-hearted witch! She's just a snob with a pretty face! You are handsome, you are talented, and you have me!"
She grinned, forcing a bright expression to cheer him up. "Forget about her. Your Big Sister will find you a better girl. Someone with actual warmth! I'll introduce you to the beauties at Jia Nan Academy. You'll have to beat them off with a stick, don't worry! I'll filter them myself!"
Yoriichi laughed. It was a genuine, hearty laugh that made his ribs ache, but it felt good. It was the first time he had laughed in... sixty years?
"Sure. If I need a matchmaker, I will come to you," he said, wiping a tear from his eye. "But first, tell me about your love life, Sister. Have you found your dream hero? Or are the men at the Academy too terrified of your legendary temper?"
Xiao Yu huffed, tossing her hair over her shoulder proudly, her nose in the air. "Hmph! No one is a match for your sister! As a beauty with brains and talent, I am chased by countless males. But they are all pigs trying to swim upstream. None of them can handle me. They all want the beauty, but they can't handle the fire!"
"I pity the men of the Academy," Yoriichi quipped dryly.
"Hey!" She smacked his arm, but she was laughing too.
Yoriichi looked out the window. The sky had turned a deep, burnt orange, signaling the end of the day. The shadows in the garden were lengthening, turning the traditional landscape into a painting of silhouettes.
His stomach gave a traitorous growl, loud enough to be heard in the silence.
Xiao Yu blinked, then giggled.
"Hungry?" she asked.
"Starving," Yoriichi admitted. "Fighting death works up an appetite."
Xiao Yu jumped up, her energy renewed. "Okay! I'll go get something delicious. The kitchens should have made medicinal soup for you. Don't move! If you try to walk, I'll break your other leg!"
"I wouldn't dream of it," Yoriichi promised, watching her bustle around the room.
"I'll be right back!" she called out, dashing out of the room with the boundless energy of a storm.
Yoriichi was alone again.
The room grew darker as the sun finally dipped below the horizon. The playful atmosphere evaporated, replaced by the solitary silence Yoriichi knew so well.
He lay back, staring at the darkening ceiling.
This world, he mused, tracing the flow of Qi in his body. It is vast. Xiao Yan. Xun Er. The Clans. The Academy.
He closed his eyes, visualizing the Transparent World. He saw the potential within his own body—the clogged meridians that needed clearing, the weak muscles that needed forging. He began to plan. He needed to adapt the Breath of the Sun. He needed to understand Alchemist fire. He needed to survive the internal politics of the clan.
I have much to do. First, I must heal. Then...
He was just beginning to formulate a training plan in his head when a sound broke his concentration.
It wasn't a footstep. It wasn't the wind.
It was a sharp, vibrating thwack.
Yoriichi's eyes snapped open. He held his breath, extending his senses outward.
He turned his head slowly toward the window.
A small, folded piece of paper was stuck to the outside of the window frame, held in place by a tiny, vibrating needle of Dou Qi.
The second life of the Sun Breather was not going to be quiet.