Outside Yan Mansion, night had just begun to fall, and the streets blazed with light.
The Imperial Capital's thoroughfares had shed the restlessness of the day, replaced by another kind of bustling prosperity. Carriages streamed past, voices filled the air, and strings of lanterns lining the shops on either side formed a winding fire dragon, illuminating every groove in the ancient flagstones.
Su Chen walked ahead, his steps unhurried.
The scattered lamplight stretched his silhouette into a tall, slender shape. His loose black robe seemed like an invisible boundary, setting him apart from the mundane world around him. The clamor flowed by, yet he remained utterly unmoved, exuding an aloofness that seemed to place him beyond the mortal realm.
Nalan Yanran followed three paces behind in silence.
Three paces was not far, yet it had already become an uncrossable chasm.
She gazed at his back, her heart churning as the dikes holding back her old convictions crumbled inch by inch.
Her grandfather's recovery, her clan's future... Those burdens that had once weighed on her until she could scarcely breathe had vanished without a trace after that near-miraculous treatment. But a new emotion, one even heavier and more bewildering, had broken through from the depths of her heart. It grew like a frenzied vine, winding tightly around her soul.
She remembered that day at Mittel Manor, when he had spoken with effortless calm.
"A true powerhouse never needs to defeat a fallen youth to prove himself."
She also remembered today, when he had casually discarded that priceless Poison Fire Crystal, displaying an air of detachment from worldly concerns.
"Putting knowledge into practice is far more interesting than gold."
At that moment, those words became red-hot brands, scorching their way with pinpoint accuracy into the heart of a "heaven-blessed prodigy," wrapped in