The wind never returned.
It was as if the world itself had stepped back from the burial hill.
Ling Chen stood frozen near the hut, lantern trembling in his hands. Old Yu had retreated inside, yet he remained near the doorway, unwilling to leave the boy alone. Neither dared interrupt what unfolded before them.
Ren Tianhe and the dark-robed cultivator faced each other silently.
No one moved.
Yet the ground between them slowly split open — thin cracks crawling across the earth like roots searching for water.
Ling Chen could not understand it.
They weren't touching. They weren't even shouting.
But the air felt heavier with every passing moment.
The stranger tilted his head.
"You hide your presence well, old man," he said calmly. "If I hadn't been tracking distortions in Aether flow, I would never have found this place."
Ren Tianhe's expression was peaceful.
"You should leave," he replied. "You have seen nothing here."
The man smiled faintly.
"I disagree."
His eyes shifted toward Ling Chen again.
"I have searched for thirty years for anomalies in Heaven's perception. Every prophecy, every omen, every miscalculation led nowhere…"
His voice softened.
"Until today."
Ling Chen felt cold.
Not physically.
It felt as if someone had noticed him for the first time in his life — and it was not a comforting feeling.
"What do you want?" Ren Tianhe asked.
The stranger raised one hand slowly.
"I want to understand why the Heavenly Dao cannot see that child."
The moment his fingers lifted—
The lantern in Ling Chen's hand shattered.
Glass fragments froze midair.
Not fell.
Froze.
Even the dust hung unmoving.
Ling Chen couldn't breathe.
The entire world had stopped.
Except for three people.
Ren Tianhe stepped forward.
He did not swing his staff.
He simply flicked his sleeve.
The still air exploded.
The suspended fragments shot backward like arrows, embedding into the ground behind the stranger.
The dark-robed man slid back several steps, robes snapping violently in a wind that did not exist anywhere else.
His eyes widened.
"…You broke my domain."
Ren Tianhe's voice was calm but firmer now.
"You mistake curiosity for permission."
The man stared at Ling Chen again.
For the first time — he looked uncertain.
"…Fascinating," he whispered.
He slowly backed away.
"I cannot win tonight. But Heaven will notice eventually."
He smiled slightly.
"And when it does… even you cannot protect him."
His figure blurred.
Then vanished.
The wind returned.
Ling Chen collapsed to his knees.
The world began moving again.
But nothing felt the same anymore.