The scent of dried herbs and chilled tea lingered in the air when Lin Xuanji(Mo Tianzun) awoke.
It was not the sharp, iron-tang of a battlefield, nor the rotting chill of ghost aura. This was peace—quiet and unfamiliar. He sat up slowly. The silken bedding rustled under his arms, and soft gauze curtains swayed gently in the breeze. The morning sun filtered in through frost-painted windows, casting silver ribbons across the wooden floor.
His inner robe had been changed to a fine cloth embroidered with pale blue clouds. His wounds had been cleaned. Spiritual threads—gentle, Yin-rich—quietly circulated through the air like drifting mist. He could feel it nurturing his exhausted meridians, slowly easing the damage he'd taken from the ghost attacks.
A gentle knock broke the stillness.
"You may enter," Xuanji said hoarsely.
The sliding door opened, and the old man and child from before stepped inside.
"Ah, you're awake," the elder said, relieved. "That's good. You've been unconscious since the day before last."
The child beamed. "I said he'd wake up! Grandfather said it might take a week!"
Lin Xuanji blinked at them, dazed but alert. "Where am I?"
"This is Snowveil Valley. Our clan estate lies here, nestled among the northern ridges," the elder replied. He bowed politely. "I am Bai Qingshan, a humble elder of the BaiClan. This is my grandson, BaiZhen."
The child bowed enthusiastically, eyes shining with curiosity. "You fell down like a sack of snow! But now you look really cool again."
Xuanji's gaze shifted slightly, then softened. "Thank you… for bringing me here."
"We merely followed our clan's teachings," Bai Qingshan replied gently. "Those injured in the wild must be given shelter, no matter their origin. To offer help without demand—this is the Bai way."
"You did not ask my name," Xuanji said, voice low.
"We didn't need to," the elder answered simply. "The wounded need kindness, not interrogation."
Xuanji nodded faintly. Inwardly, something warm stirred, but he quickly buried it beneath calm detachment.
.
.
.
.
Later that morning, Bai Qingshan led Xuanji to the outer courtyard. The Bai Clan's residence sprawled across gently sloping terraces, each one lined with pale stone lanterns, koi ponds, and slender willow trees dusted with frost.
The atmosphere was calm, serene.
Dozens of disciples in pale blue robes were gathered for morning rites—chanting sutras, meditating, drawing gentle spiritual breath. As Xuanji passed through their midst, the air shifted.
Quietly at first.
Then unmistakably.
A strange pressure descended.
The disciples faltered in their chants. A few glanced around, searching for the source. Even those who had reached the Core Formation stage felt their Qi tremble slightly.
"He's…?"
"That energy… it's like standing beneath a thundercloud... but he hasn't moved at all."
Xuanji walked silently beside Bai Qingshan, eyes downcast. The elder noticed the growing unease and gestured for the disciples to remain calm.
Suddenly, one of the older disciples stepped forward. His name was Bai Heng, and he had the confidence of someone accustomed to being the strongest among his peers.
"Honored guest," Bai Heng said with a respectful bow. "May I request to test something? I mean no offense."
Xuanji paused. "Test?"
"Just a wisp of Qi," Bai Heng explained. "I want to feel how your presence interacts with it. A matter of curiosity. You… give off something I've never sensed before."
After a long silence, Xuanji gave a subtle nod.
Bai Heng released a strand of Yin Qi. It danced like silver silk toward Xuanji.
But the moment it came near—
It broke apart, dissolving into mist.
The surrounding air rippled. The trees swayed as if wind had suddenly passed through. Several younger disciples instinctively stepped back.
Bai Heng stared at his palm, stunned.
"It wasn't burned… it was humbled," he murmured.
A younger girl whispered, "His Yang Qi is too strong… no, not just strong—it's absolute. I've never felt anything like it…"
Another added, "It feels like standing before the sun. Or something older than the sun. I couldn't breathe when he passed me."
Even Bai Qingshan had grown still. His aged eyes glimmered with complex emotion—respect, fear, and something deeper.
"Forgive me, young master," the elder said, bowing low. "But may I ask… who are you, truly?"
Xuanji looked at the courtyard, where disciples had fallen into a silent hush.
"My name," he said slowly, "is Lin Xuanji."
None of them recognized the name. Yet none dared to doubt its weight.
"…Are you a divine envoy?" Bai Heng asked in a hushed voice. "Or perhaps… the reincarnation of one of the ancient Immortal Kings?"
"I'm not a god," Xuanji said quietly. "But gods have bled before me."
That sentence hung in the air like thunder in stillness.
And then—something strange happened.
Little Bai Zhen stepped forward, fearless as ever, and tugged lightly on Xuanji's sleeve. "Even if you're scary to everyone else," he said with a grin, "I still think you're really cool."
Xuanji blinked.
A beat passed.
Then his lips curled just slightly—just enough that Bai Qingshan's eyes widened in surprise.
"…Thank you," Xuanji murmured.
That evening, after most of the clan had retired to their quarters, Xuanji sat alone beneath the Moon Pavilion.
The koi pond beside him shimmered in the moonlight. Snow veil blossoms drifted down from the nearby trees. Peace. For the first time in days, he could rest.
A soft rustling came from behind him.
Bai Zhen peeked out, holding a small porcelain bowl. "You didn't eat dinner again," he said, walking over. "You'll never get strong like me if you skip meals."
Xuanji accepted the bowl. "I'm already stronger than you."
"But are you stronger than Grandfather?"
Xuanji took a slow bite of the porridge. "Probably."
The boy giggled, then sat beside him. "When I grow up, I want to be like you."
"You shouldn't," Xuanji said flatly.
"Why?"
"Because I've seen things that would ruin your dreams."
"…I don't care," the boy whispered. "Even if you've been through scary things… you're still kind."
The silence that followed was thick and long.
"…You're very strange," Xuanji said softly.
Bai Zhen smiled. "So are you."
———
Far below, hidden in the woods, the Crown Prince slowed his spirit beast. The air had changed. Power hung like distant thunderclouds above the valley.
"His overflowing Qi, his here." muttered going down to the entrance of the Snowveil Valley with the Liu Twins and Fenglie following him from behind.