A campfire on a snowy night

It was the "bicycle" from their first meeting. In the hazy moonlight of the Xiao Clan's old-fashioned rear courtyard, the sudden appearance of this "hunk of iron," so utterly at odds with its surroundings, felt so jarringly out of place that Xiao Yan did not know what expression to make.

By then, the night was deep, and the last glow of sunset had long since vanished behind the western mountains. The bitter wind swept snowflakes through the abandoned courtyard, howling past the dark buildings and making them seem all the more desolate.

Xiao Yan rubbed his half-frozen hands as he watched Xiao Yi park the bicycle beneath the eaves, then head into the woodshed to gather the firewood left there. He looked ready to light a campfire and spend the night here. Xiao Yan had no idea what he was up to this time.

"Big brother, you're not planning to spend the night in this courtyard, are you? Why don't we go back and get some sleep? Stay here overnight, and we'll probably freeze into ice sculptures."

Xiao Yi did not answer Xiao Yan's question directly. He simply went about lighting the campfire, then turned his gaze toward the wine jar, an enigmatic smile curling at the corners of his mouth.

"You don't understand, Xiao Yan. A campfire on a snowy night has a strange kind of magic. It doesn't just drive away the cold. It also dispels the wariness and barriers in people's hearts."

Xiao Yan froze for a moment at his words, then followed Xiao Yi's gaze toward the wine jar holding Yao Lao's soul. He immediately understood Xiao Yi's intention.

Perhaps Xiao Yi's seemingly absurd behavior really was meant to create an opportunity for Yao Lao-and for all of them-to be honest with one another. The cold could clear a person's head, while warm flames could melt even solid ice.

Once he understood that, Xiao Yan drew his collar tighter. The reluctance and confusion on his face gradually faded, replaced by a trace of understanding and agreement.

"I'll go see if there's any bedding we can use inside. Even if it's a little shabby, it's still better than sleeping straight on the snow."

While Xiao Yan went inside to fetch the bedding, Xiao Yi finally got the campfire going. The dancing flames dispelled some of the chill and brought a little light and warmth to the pitch-black courtyard. He placed the wine jar beside the fire, neither too close nor too far away, so that Yao Chen inside could feel its warmth without being roasted.

By the time Xiao Yan emerged with the bedding in his arms, warmth and the toasted fragrance of food had quietly begun to spread. He looked up to find several plump white steamed buns skewered on slender, sharpened branches and propped beside the fire to toast. One side of each bun had already browned, giving off an enticing aroma that stood in stark contrast to the icy, snowy night.

Seeing Xiao Yan emerge, Xiao Yi picked up a skewer bearing a perfectly toasted bun, casually brushed away a little charcoal ash with his free hand, and offered it to him with an easy smile. "Here, have something to tide you over. It's nothing fancy, but it's hot and filling."

He picked up another toasted bun for himself, blew on it, and took a generous bite without ceremony. His cheeks bulged, and he looked thoroughly satisfied.

Xiao Yan set down the bedding in his arms and accepted the golden-brown bun. It was warm in his hand, and its simple wheat fragrance, mingled with the scent of smoke and fire, seemed to coax some feeling back into his icy fingers. Following Xiao Yi's example, he took a bite. The crust was crisp and fragrant, while the inside remained soft, with a faint sweetness.

On a night of wind and snow like this, a mouthful of hot food was an immense comfort. It felt as though a warm current had flowed into his body, spreading from his stomach to every limb and bone. Even the fatigue and chill of the past several days seemed to ease considerably.

Inside the wine jar, Yao Chen's soul quietly sensed everything outside. At first, Xiao Yi's actions had filled him with anger and humiliation. But as time passed, especially beside this unexpected campfire lit amid the wind and snow, a long-forgotten sense of peace quietly settled over him.

The crackle of the campfire and the fragrance of toasted buns, simple and pure, stirred distant, hazy memories from before he had become the esteemed Venerable Yao, when he was merely a youth. Back then, he too had known the joy of a mouthful of hot food when hunger and cold had driven him to desperation.

In that moment, the resentment and pain of the past, along with his anger at fate's injustice, seemed to be slowly melting a little in the warmth of this small campfire on a snowy night.

He began to reflect. When had I become so quick to see enemies in every tree and blade of grass, so unable to trust anyone? Was it Han Feng's betrayal? The disciple he had once treated as his own son, to whom he had taught everything he knew, had ultimately tried to kill him for the Flame Mantra. That pain, piercing his heart and cutting into his bones, remained as vivid as yesterday even after all these years. And so, when he awoke and encountered Xiao Yan, whose soul was likewise unusual, he had instinctively chosen the "safest" approach.

His initial justification for absorbing Xiao Yan's Dou Qi had been that he needed to recover his strength as quickly as possible, so he could guide him better in the future. What a grand and righteous excuse! Yet now, on this cold, snowy night with its strange trace of warmth, Yao Chen had to admit that beneath the facade of "doing it for your own good" lurked a darker selfishness.

He had secretly intended to make this exceptionally gifted youth fall back into the dust and experience the pain and despair of going from genius to "trash." Only then, when Yao Chen offered a helping hand and revealed his heaven-reaching alchemy and mighty soul power, would Xiao Yan depend on him wholeheartedly and regard him as his only salvation. This so-called "collecting tuition in advance" was merely a subtle psychological trap he had laid to keep this disciple of boundless potential firmly under his control.

What sent an even deeper chill through him now was another, more secret thought he had once entertained. Upon discovering Xiao Yan's excessively powerful soul, he had even considered quietly refining away part of Xiao Yan's soul origin.

Of course, his reasoning had been just as "noble"-to remove those useless "impurities" and make Xiao Yan's soul more "native," more pure, so that he could teach and control him more easily in the future.

He had even dressed it up as a way to weaken Xiao Yan's overly powerful soul, lest it place too heavy a burden on his frail body and thin bloodline at the time and damage the foundations of his cultivation. What "thoughtful" and "meticulous" "kindness"!

Yao Chen had told himself it was for Xiao Yan's own good. But beneath that grand and righteous excuse, was there also a shadow lurking deep within my heart? Was I so afraid of being betrayed again by someone closest to me that, subconsciously, I wanted to use this method to hold Xiao Yan firmly in my grasp-even erase the "unpredictable element" in him that did not belong to this world, turning him into a thoroughly "native" disciple who would be easier for me to guide?

These "far-sighted plans," which he had once justified and even taken pride in, now looked so sordid and selfish in the light of the campfire. How were my schemes against Xiao Yan anything but another form of exploitation and control? His motives might have been self-preservation and revenge, but his methods could hardly be called open and honorable. An indescribable heat rose from the depths of his soul, leaving Yao Chen strangely ashamed and agitated.

Was this truly "kindness," or had my heart, gnawed full of holes by repeated betrayals, long since lost the ability to trust anyone openly? Yao Chen dared not pursue the thought. Even if Xiao Yan's soul was unlike an ordinary person's, even if it was incredibly resilient and could endure my "kindness" without becoming a witless wreck... did that really give me the right to do it?

On the Dou Qi Continent, where strength reigned supreme, Dou Qi was everything. He had not only stolen Xiao Yan's Dou Qi but had even sought to tamper with his soul... At that thought, a fierce wave of self-loathing surged through Yao Chen, leaving his already weakened soul even closer to collapse.