As the Soul Tool car entered Eastsea Academy's gates, dusk had already draped the entire campus like a veil of gauze. Streetlights lit up one after another, casting dim yellow halos across the tree-lined paths and stretching the eight figures' shadows into uneven lengths, like an abstract paper-cutting.
Wu Changkong was the first to rise. Without a word, he bent down and lifted the still-unconscious Tang Wulin into his arms, his movements as gentle as though he were holding a fallen leaf.
The fluctuations of Tang Wulin's Bluesilver Grass martial soul formed a pale blue glow around him, brightening and dimming faintly with his breathing like a cocoon still being woven. Wu Changkong's icy aura spread almost imperceptibly, forming a thin veil of frostmist around them and blocking any possible disturbances from outside.
"I'm taking him to the staff quarters!" With that, his figure vanished into the shadows at the end of the tree-lined path. The frost-white hem of his clothes flashed beneath the streetlights, then disappeared.
The others dispersed in twos and threes. Zhang Yangzi and Wang Jinxi slung their arms around each other's shoulders as they staggered toward the boys' dormitory, their shadows tangled together on the ground until they were impossible to distinguish.
Before leaving, Xie Xie still found time to wink and make faces at Yun Zhiyu. His lips moved soundlessly, and from the shape of them, he was probably saying some nonsense like, "Don't forget the auction." Gu Yue shot him a cold glance, and he shrank his neck sheepishly before chasing after Zhang Yangzi.
Wei Xiaofeng walked alone at the very back. The habits of his Azure Shadow Serpent martial soul made him prefer shadows. His steps were light, making almost no sound on the fallen leaves, like a genuine shadow slipping through the dormitory entrance.
When Yun Zhiyu returned to her dormitory, she almost immediately collapsed into sleep. The emptiness left after withdrawing the Xuanyuan Sword into her body, the backlash from unsealing her Torch Dragon Bloodline, and the exhausted Soul Power from fighting the Thousand-Year Purple-Gold Python all piled together, dragging her consciousness into a pitch-black sea. She did not even have time to change out of her mud- and blood-stained academy uniform. Curled beneath the blankets, her breathing soon became deep and steady.
The light outside shifted from gold to orange, then from orange to crimson, before finally sinking into a gray-blue hue between day and night. Dusk came silently to Eastsea City, like an uninvited visitor who lightly knocked on the window lattice, then patiently waited for an answer.
Yun Zhiyu woke within that gray-blue light.
Her consciousness slowly floated up from the deep sea like a fish swimming against the current, passing through layers upon layers of dream fragments before finally breaking the surface. The first thing she saw when she opened her eyes was the familiar crack in the ceiling—a mark left when the aura of her Xuanyuan Sword martial soul had accidentally leaked during meditation last week.
She blinked, and her pupils gradually focused in the dim light. Her body still retained the numbness of sleep, as though invisible threads had bound her all night. Her limbs felt too heavy to obey her, but three or four tenths of the Soul Power in her meridians had recovered. The Xuanyuan Sword gave a lazy hum within her spiritual sea, like a beast stretching after waking.
Yun Zhiyu braced herself against the bed and sat up, rubbing the sore back of her neck. The sky outside told her it was roughly dusk, two or three hours after she had fallen asleep. She remembered Uncle Mu Chen's instructions, tomorrow afternoon's Myriad Treasures Pavilion auction, and the invitation still lying in a drawer at the Forging Masters Association.
I need to go get it.
She threw back the blanket and stepped barefoot onto the cold tiles. Soul Power flowed faintly through the soles of her feet, driving away the last trace of drowsiness.
The mud on her academy uniform had dried into dark brown crusts, carrying the distinctive smell of the Ascension Platform—a mixture of humus and blood. Frowning, she pulled out a clean set of casual clothes from her wardrobe: a moon-white short jacket and dark teal trousers, the most ordinary attire for a girl in Eastsea City.
After taking a bath and changing, she turned the Xuanyuan Sword into a streak of light and absorbed it into her palm before opening the door.
The moment the door opened, she froze.
Gu Yue stood in the corridor, leaning against the opposite wall. Her black hair carried an almost translucent softness in the dusk light. She was not wearing her academy uniform, instead dressed in a light gray hooded jacket with the zipper pulled only to her chest, revealing a white high-collared shirt beneath.
Her hands were tucked into her pockets, and she held her usual lazy posture, like a cat curled up on a windowsill, detached and indifferent to everything around her.
Yet when she raised her eyes and looked at Yun Zhiyu, something quietly melted within those black eyes as deep as ancient pools.
"Do you need something?" Yun Zhiyu asked instinctively, her voice still hoarse from sleep.
Gu Yue shook her head. Her movement was gentle, and her silver hair swayed lightly, tracing a soft curve over her neck.
"You're going out?" she asked, her tone as flat as though she were stating something already known.
Yun Zhiyu nodded. "I'm going to the Forging Masters Association to pick up an invitation."
"I'll come with you!"
It was neither a question nor a request, but a statement that sounded almost self-evident.
Gu Yue straightened from the wall and crossed to Yun Zhiyu's side in two or three steps. They stood close enough to catch the faint fragrance in each other's hair—a woody scent, like moss deep in a forest after rain. It strangely complemented the scorched feeling unique to Yun Zhiyu's lightning-attributed Soul Power.
Yun Zhiyu opened her mouth, intending to say, "No need to trouble yourself," but swallowed the words. Gu Yue's profile seemed especially soft beneath the evening light. Her usual aloofness, which kept everyone at a distance, was like a thin layer of ice melted by the setting sun, revealing something warm beneath.
"...All right."
The two walked side by side down the dormitory steps. Eastsea Academy at dusk was covered in a honey-colored glow. The streetlights along the tree-lined paths had just lit up, mingling with the last traces of sunset in the west to create an ambiguous shade. In the distance came the bustle of the dining hall, mixed with the faint vibration of Soul Tool cars rolling over speed bumps, like a lazy tune from everyday life.
They had just turned past the flowerbed in front of the dormitory when a streak of sword light slashed diagonally across the lawn beside them.
Wu Nianbing was practicing swordsmanship.
The Icebound Frost Sword became a cool streak of light in her hands. The path of Frostmark Sword Shadow carved translucent arcs through the twilight, and each swing of her blade left a thin layer of frost on the grass. Her posture was straight as a pine, her moon-white training clothes billowing softly in the evening breeze. Her hair rose with the movement of her sword, revealing a stretch of fair neck.
Skyfrost Mist Shadow.
She gave a low shout, and her second soul ring lit beneath her feet. The frostmarks on her blade abruptly intensified, transforming into a hazy mist that spread outward. Wherever it passed, dewdrops on the grass froze into ice crystals that glittered beneath the streetlights like scattered stars.
"Nianbing," Yun Zhiyu called, stopping in her tracks.
The sword light came to an abrupt halt. Wu Nianbing sheathed her sword and turned around, several clear beads of sweat hanging at her temples and refracting rainbow colors in the sunset. Her cheeks were faintly flushed from exertion, replacing her usual maturity beyond her years with lively vitality, like an ink painting suddenly touched with bright color.
"Sister Yun? Gu Yue?" She was breathing slightly hard as the Icebound Frost Sword became a streak of light and returned to her palm. "Where are you going?"
"To the Forging Masters Association." Yun Zhiyu shook her wrist, and the dark gold bracelet there gleamed faintly in the twilight. "We're picking up an invitation for the auction. Want to come?"
Wu Nianbing nodded almost without hesitation. "Wait for me to change."
She turned and ran toward the girls' dormitory. Her moon-white figure resembled a crane spreading its wings in the dusk, soon vanishing around the stairwell corner.
Yun Zhiyu and Gu Yue waited where they were for about five minutes. When they saw her again, she had changed into a lavender dress with an off-white knitted cardigan over it. Her hair was simply tied into a ponytail, exposing her smooth forehead.
"Let's go." She naturally linked her arm with Yun Zhiyu's other arm, and the three headed side by side toward the academy gates.
The Forging Masters Association stood on a quiet street within Eastsea City's commercial district. Its exterior was so ancient that it bordered on clumsy, with ivy crawling across its gray-white Stone Wall and front steps polished smooth as mirrors by countless feet. Yun Zhiyu made her way through the front hall with practiced ease, then headed straight for the president's office on the second floor under the surprised gaze of the old man on duty.
Mu Chen was not there. Only a note lay pressed atop the invitations, its handwriting so messy that it looked as though it had been written while running: "Zhiyu, Wulin will collect his own. —Chen"
There were two dark gold invitations, their gilded patterns flowing with restrained luster beneath the lights. Yun Zhiyu placed one into her bracelet's storage space and held the other in her hand, feeling the paper's distinctive rough texture against her fingertips.
"Got them?" Wu Nianbing leaned over, the hem of her lavender dress brushing Yun Zhiyu's hand with the softness unique to fabric.
"Mm." Yun Zhiyu put away the invitation and turned to look out the window.
"It's still early. Want to take a look around?"
Eastsea City's evening market was at its liveliest at this time of day. Although the small street where the Forging Masters Association stood was not as prosperous as the main commercial district, it had its own cozy air of everyday life. All kinds of stalls lined the road—sugar paintings, dough figurines, acrobatics, snacks. Calls and laughter intertwined like a pot of boiling soup.
Wu Nianbing's eyes lit up the instant she stepped into the market.
She was always far too quiet in ordinary times. As Wu Changkong's daughter and the inheritor of the Heavenfrost Sword martial soul, she bore a weight far beyond her age. Yet amidst the lively commotion of the market at dusk, that burden seemed temporarily set aside, revealing the vibrant, curious soul that should have belonged to a seven- or eight-year-old girl.
"That one!" She pointed at a sugar-painting stall on the street corner, her voice carrying a hint of barely restrained excitement.
The vendor was a gray-haired old man. The copper spoon in his hand darted across a slate board, while amber sugar syrup melted under high heat into flowing golden threads. With a turn of his wrist, it gradually solidified into a phoenix with spread wings. Every feather in its tail was finely detailed, and it glowed translucently beneath the setting sun like a fragile, exquisite work of art.
"What would you like, young lady?" the old man asked with a smile.
"I want that!" Wu Nianbing pointed at a completed sample on display—a coiling dragon with flowing whiskers and distinct scales. It swayed gently on its bamboo stick as though it might ride away on the wind.
"Coming right up!" The old man scooped up another spoonful of sugar syrup. "A dragon, five Federation Credits."
Yun Zhiyu was about to pay when Gu Yue beat her to it, placing a silver coin on the stall. The motion was natural, as though she had done it countless times. As she withdrew her hand, she casually tucked a windblown strand of Yun Zhiyu's hair behind her ear.
The gesture was so light, light as a butterfly's wingbeat, yet it made Yun Zhiyu pause.
"Thank you!" Wu Nianbing accepted the sugar dragon and eagerly bit into it. Amber sugar crumbs stuck to the corner of her lips, but she did not notice at all. She only narrowed her eyes and smiled in satisfaction.
That smile was especially soft beneath the dusk light, like a plum blossom suddenly blooming in winter, carrying an untimely but heartwarming warmth.
As Yun Zhiyu watched her, she suddenly thought of someone.
Yun Zhishu.
Her younger sister, Yun Ming and Ya Li's biological daughter. She should be attending class in some room at Shrek Academy right now, or reading some heavy tome beneath the shelter of the Tree of Life.
That girl was lively and lovable, like an enthusiastic little sun. But Yun Zhiyu remembered secretly taking Zhishu out of the academy to buy her a skewer of candied hawthorn at Shrek City's night market. She had narrowed her eyes just like this, with sugar crumbs all over her lips, yet smiled as though she owned the whole world. Yun Zhiyu also remembered that girl whose eyes held only swords, Yuan En's pale gray face, Li Zhi's chubby smile, and Na'er's timidity.
"Zhiyu?" Wu Nianbing's voice pulled her from her memories. "Do you want some?"
She shook the sugar painting in her hand, its dragon head already half bitten away. The amber sugar glowed warmly under the sunset.
Yun Zhiyu smiled and shook her head. "You eat it."
The three continued onward. Gu Yue walked beside Yun Zhiyu, her black hair appearing and disappearing among the crowd like a crescent moon half-hidden behind clouds. Her gaze occasionally fell on Yun Zhiyu with an indescribable focus, as though the surrounding clamor had nothing to do with her and only the person before her was real, worthy of watching.
A thunderous burst of drums and gongs sounded from a nearby street corner. The three looked over and found a group of traveling performers putting on a show. A young woman in red was performing a balancing act, lying on her back with her feet in the air as she steadily balanced a blue-and-white porcelain bowl on her toes. The water in the bowl did not ripple at all. A crowd surrounded her, and cheers rose one after another.
Wu Nianbing squeezed toward the front of the crowd, tilting her head up and staring without blinking at the spinning porcelain bowl. Her sugar dragon had already been eaten, and she held the bamboo stick in her hand like a tiny sword.
"Good!" When the young woman tossed the bowl into the air and caught it steadily on her toes, Wu Nianbing could not help clapping and cheering. The hem of her lavender dress lifted softly with the movement.
Yun Zhiyu stood behind her, the corners of her lips unconsciously rising. At some point, Gu Yue had bought three bags of candied roasted chestnuts. The paper bag gave off a warm, sweet fragrance in her palm. She lowered her head, peeled away the dark brown shell of a chestnut with her slender fingers to reveal the golden flesh inside, then naturally held it out to Yun Zhiyu's lips.
Yun Zhiyu instinctively opened her mouth and accepted it. The chestnut's soft sweetness melted over her tongue, carrying a warmth that made her feel at ease. She paused and turned to Gu Yue, but Gu Yue had already lowered her head and begun peeling a second chestnut, looking as focused as though she were conducting some precise Soul Tool experiment.
"...Thank you," Yun Zhiyu said vaguely, chestnut crumbs sticking to the corner of her lips.
Gu Yue looked up at her but said nothing. She merely reached out and gently wiped away the crumbs from the corner of Yun Zhiyu's mouth with her thumb. The action was so natural, as natural as breathing, that Yun Zhiyu froze again.
She remembered Gu Yue's words in the Ascension Platform when she had taken the Amethyst-Gold Python's tail strike head-on: "I could have been faster." She remembered the flash of worry in Gu Yue's eyes when she had said, "Don't take it head-on next time," in the Soul Tool car. And she remembered that now, in the noisy evening market, this person was peeling chestnuts for her, wiping her mouth, and carrying all the little things she had not had time to put into her storage space.
Is it because of the Torch Dragon Bloodline?
Yun Zhiyu asked herself silently. Although she had concealed her Torch Dragon Bloodline well, Gu Yue possessed the origin of the Silver Dragon King. Her powerful spiritual strength gave her an almost instinctive sensitivity to energy fluctuations. Perhaps she had noticed something long ago. The resonance between dragon bloodlines might have made Gu Yue feel a closeness to her, almost like one of her own kind.
The explanation seemed reasonable. Yun Zhiyu nodded and silently accepted it, failing to notice the half-second Gu Yue's fingertips lingered after wiping the crumbs from her lips, or the almost indulgent gentleness that flickered through those black eyes beneath her hair.
The acrobatic performance ended, and the crowd gradually dispersed. Still wanting more, Wu Nianbing turned around, her cheeks flushed with excitement. "There's more ahead! I can smell roasted sweet potatoes!"
She grabbed Yun Zhiyu's hand and ran forward, her lavender skirt darting through the crowd like a nimble fish.
Gu Yue followed behind them. Her cool eyes carried a soft glow beneath the sunset. In one hand, she held the unfinished bag of candied roasted chestnuts; in the other, a packet of dragon's beard candy Yun Zhiyu had casually handed her earlier.
The roasted sweet potato stall stood at the end of the street. The vendor was a plump middle-aged woman whose smile looked as though it had been molded into place, warm and enthusiastic toward everyone. The sweet potatoes roasted in an iron barrel until their juices ran, caramel-colored syrup seeping through split skins and sizzling beneath the coals. Their fragrance drifted halfway down the street.
"Three." Gu Yue stepped forward and put a gold coin on the stall. "Pick the soft ones."
The woman smiled until her eyes narrowed into slits. She used iron tongs to rummage through the bottom of the barrel, selecting three sweet potatoes with charred skins that sank at the lightest squeeze, then packed them separately in paper bags. Yun Zhiyu took her portion. Her fingertips turned slightly red from the heat, but she could not bear to let go. She only shifted it back and forth between her hands while tearing open the crisp skin with her teeth.
Golden sweet potato flesh was exposed to the air, steaming hot and carrying a simple sweetness. Yun Zhiyu took a bite and immediately began blowing out breaths from the heat, tears welling in her eyes, but she could not bear to spit it out. She only held her mouth open and fanned herself with one hand.
Gu Yue watched her, then suddenly gave a soft laugh.
The laugh was faint, like a spring breeze brushing the surface of a deep pool, raising ripples that vanished in an instant. She stepped forward, took the sweet potato from Yun Zhiyu's hands, peeled away the hottest outer skin with her fingertips to expose the flesh that had cooled slightly, then handed it back.
"Slow down," she said, her voice carrying a softness even she had not noticed.
Wu Nianbing watched from the side. The sharp senses granted by her Icebound Frost Sword martial soul caught a strange atmosphere in the air. But she said nothing. She merely lowered her head and focused on her own sweet potato, while the corners of her mouth quietly curved in understanding.
The three squatted on the stone steps at the end of the street, watching the final trace of sunlight sink behind distant buildings. The sweet scent of roasted sweet potatoes filled the air. The bag of candied roasted chestnuts sat between two of them, and crumbs from the dragon's beard candy clung to Yun Zhiyu's sleeve before Gu Yue gently brushed them away.
"Tomorrow's auction!" Wu Nianbing suddenly said, anticipation in her voice.
"Sister Yun, what do you think there'll be?"
"I don't know." Yun Zhiyu bit into her sweet potato and answered vaguely, "Uncle Mu Chen said there would be a few things useful to us, but he didn't say exactly what."
"Soul bones?" Wu Nianbing's eyes brightened.
"Not very likely," Gu Yue said calmly. Her dark eyes dimmed slightly as she brought the final peeled chestnut to Yun Zhiyu's lips.
"Although Myriad Treasures Pavilion's auction isn't low-end, the true finale items won't appear at an event open to the public. It'll most likely be rare metals, advanced Soul Tools, or..."
She paused, her gaze falling on the silver-white bracelet around Yun Zhiyu's wrist. She did not continue.
"Or what?" Wu Nianbing pressed.
"Or," Yun Zhiyu said after swallowing the chestnut, taking over, "materials related to dragon bloodlines. Or Battle Armor components."
As she spoke, her eyes briefly met Gu Yue's. A faint gleam flickered deep within Gu Yue's black eyes, like a star rising from the bottom of a deep pool before sinking again into still silence.
Dusk finally gave way to night. The streetlights became bright and clear, throwing the three girls' shadows across the stone steps, tangled into a blurred wash of ink. In the distance came calls of vendors packing up, while the performers' drums and gongs gradually faded. For the final time, the old sugar-painting vendor's copper spoon swept across the slate board, forming a butterfly with spread wings that was bought by some lucky child.
"Let's head back." Yun Zhiyu stood and brushed sweet potato skin crumbs from her trousers. "We still have to get up early tomorrow."
Gu Yue and Wu Nianbing rose at the same time. The three walked side by side on the way home, their shadows stretched into different lengths by the streetlights like a moving silhouette painting. Gu Yue walked beside Yun Zhiyu, her hair stirring softly in the night breeze and occasionally brushing against Yun Zhiyu's hand with a cool touch.
As they waited at an intersection for a Soul Tool traffic light, Gu Yue suddenly spoke, her voice so soft it was almost like she was talking to herself. "Were you... happy today?"
Yun Zhiyu turned to look at her. Streetlight spilled down from above, dividing Gu Yue's profile into light and shadow. Under the strong light, those black eyes appeared almost transparent dark brown, like precious amber preserving ancient secrets.
"I was!" Yun Zhiyu heard herself say, the corners of her lips lifting unconsciously. "Thank you, and Nianbing too."
Wu Nianbing linked her arm with Yun Zhiyu's from the other side. Her lavender skirt brushed against Yun Zhiyu's trousers, carrying the softness unique to fabric. "I should be thanking you two. It's been... a long time since I've gone out like this."
She did not say how long "a long time" had been, but Yun Zhiyu understood.
As Wu Changkong's daughter, with her mother having died when she was young and as the inheritor of the Heavenfrost Sword martial soul, Wu Nianbing carried far more than others her age. This brief, almost extravagant indulgence today might have been one of the few moments in her memory that belonged to a "girl" rather than a "Soul Master."
The light turned green, and the three crossed the street with the flow of people. Gu Yue lagged half a step behind, her gaze fixed on Yun Zhiyu's back. Complex emotions churned in her black eyes—indulgence, affection, and a protective obsession even she herself did not fully understand.
It isn't because of the Torch Dragon Bloodline.
She said it silently in her heart without making a sound. The night breeze lifted her hair like a crescent moon half-hidden by clouds, quietly watching the moon-white figure ahead.
It is simply because you are you.
Perhaps she would not say that answer aloud until much later. But now, in the night of Eastsea City and the lingering warmth of the bustling market, she merely followed quietly, carrying the unfinished candied roasted chestnuts, that person's dragon's beard candy, the paper bag of roasted sweet potatoes, and every trivial, warm burden.
That was enough.
Before you continue