Night had settled heavy as water-soaked cloth. Chen Wuya's footsteps fell on the bluestone slabs without the slightest hesitation. A trace of ash from Sunset Gorge still clung to his shoulder; the wind could not blow it away, and he had not brushed it off.
Bai Zhi followed half a step behind him, her hand never leaving her sword hilt. Mo Feng walked last, cradling the blueprint covered in revision marks in his arms, his fingertips pinning down its edges as though afraid it might fly away.
The courtyard gate stood ajar. When they pushed it open and entered, Chen Xuan was squatting by the threshold, tinkering with a broken crossbow mechanism, while Chen Yao stood on tiptoe to hang a wooden plaque back beneath the eaves. The character for "home" was carved into it in crooked strokes.
"Dad!" Chen Xuan sprang up. "You're back! I tried the rhythm of Reverse Wave Thirteen Strikes three more times just now, and this time I got it completely right!"
Chen Yao ran over too, her eyes shining. "We held them off! Not a single blood corpse got in!"
Chen Wuya did not answer. He merely glanced at the row of bamboo stakes in the yard, trampled crooked. Step by step, he walked to the center and stopped, his gaze sweeping over the two children's excited faces.
"You think you won today?" he asked.
"Of course!" Chen Xuan lifted his chin. "I triggered seven traps, and Yaoyao activated the steel needle array too. Even Uncle Mo said our coordination was seamless."
"But the enemy left." Chen Yao clutched the hem of her skirt. "That means we won."
Chen Wuya slowly crouched and picked up a broken roof tile from the ground, laying it gently in his palm. With a flick of his hand,