The morning sun poured through the open window, casting a warm golden glow across Xiao Yan's desk. He sat beneath it, leaning back in his chair, legs outstretched, a spirit pigeon preening proudly on the sill—as if delivering the latest scroll had granted it immortality.
Xiao Yan unfurled Yanran's letter lazily at first.
By the second paragraph, he was already laughing.
> "Chaos pigeon."
"Season finale."
"Tea bags under her eyes."
"She's getting too good at this," he muttered between chuckles, shaking his head.
Then he reached the final line:
> "If she throws another twig, I'm hiding behind you without shame. That's what fiancés are for, right?"
His laughter stopped.
His eyes narrowed.
His lips twitched.
"…She did not just say that."
No one saw the faint blush creeping across his ears. No one heard the quiet breath he exhaled. There was no smile—but something warm lingered beneath the silence.
---
Later that day, he sat beside his mother in the sun-drenched courtyard, bees drifting lazily through the flowers, wind chimes whispering above them.
"She said she'll come next spring," he said casually, popping a dried fruit into his mouth.
Gu Wenxin raised an eyebrow over her teacup. "Spring, hm? I suppose I can wait. As long as she brings good tea. And wears soft colors."
Xiao Yan froze. "…You read the letter?"
She smirked. "Please. You were smiling like a fool. I can read faces better than words."
He rolled his eyes, but didn't bother hiding the faint grin tugging at his mouth.
---
Days Later...
Life moved quietly.
Gu Wenxin's health improved by the day. The household brimmed with warmth. The clan elders—still clueless about Xiao Ranyu's hidden brilliance—shook their heads in wonder at Xiao Yan's progress.
> "Best among his generation in the Jia Ma Empire." "An eleven-year-old Dou Fighter." "Even Nalan Yanran didn't reach that level so soon."
The rumors spread quickly:
> "A genius has awakened in the Xiao Clan."
"Eleven-year-old Dou Fighter."
"The Xiao Clan might rise again. They may even return to the capital…"
Xiao Yan said nothing.
He trained. He meditated. He laughed with his mother. He wrote to Yanran when the mood struck.
Life was good.
Until it wasn't.
---
It happened during meditation.
The world was still. Wisps of Dou Qi swirled softly around him. His breath was deep, steady, the flow of energy smooth—perfect.
Until the ring on his finger shimmered.
Just once.
A pulse, faint… like a sigh.
Xiao Yan didn't notice . He was too deep within the current of his cultivation. But then, something changed.
The air chilled. His core trembled.
And then—his Dou Qi began to unravel.
"What…?"
His eyes flew open. His hands shook.
He tried to suppress it. Seal it. Reverse the flow.
But nothing worked.
His cultivation slipped away like sand through fingers.
9-star Dou Qi... 6-star... 4…
Then—3rd stage Dou Qi.
He collapsed to one knee, gasping.
Sweat drenched his back. His limbs felt hollow. The swirling aura around him had vanished completely.
Silence.
Then a long, shaking breath.
Xiao Yan slowly sat cross-legged again, determination etched onto his pale face.
"I just need to gather it again… That's all. A fluctuation. Nothing serious."
He pressed a palm to his lower abdomen and called upon the world's energy.
The air answered.
Wisps of Dou Qi drifted toward him, obedient and clear. He guided them into his meridians, tried to refine them with calm control.
For a moment—it worked.
The energy circled. His core flickered.
Then—it dispersed.
Gone. Instantly.
Again.
And again.
Every attempt ended the same. The energy dissolved just before he could make it his own.
His chest heaved.
Finally, he slumped back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling.
Eyes empty.
His fingers curled slowly around the ring.
"…Why?"
No answer came.
Only silence.
And the feeling that something inside him had broken.
---
The Next Morning
The family residence buzzed with tension. When Xiao Yan didn't appear for training—and a servant whispered that his room was "too quiet"—worry spread like wildfire.
Gu Wenxin was the first to reach his door. Xiao Zhan followed. Her voice was sharp with dread.
"He didn't even respond. That's not like him."
Then came the brothers.
Xiao Diao, as calm as ever, but brows drawn tight.
Xiao Li, storming up the stairs, fists clenched like he meant to punch a hole through everything.
And Xiao Ranyu, wide-eyed, innocent—playing his role with precision.
They found Xiao Yan sitting on the bed, pale and silent.
He didn't speak. He didn't have to.
Gu Wenxin stepped forward. Her voice was quiet. "You… lost your Dou Fighter cultivation?"
A slow nod.
The air turned heavy.
Xiao Zhan's jaw clenched. Xiao Diao said nothing, but his gaze darkened.
Xiao Li cursed and slammed his fist into the wall. Wood cracked.
Only Xiao Ranyu stood still—expression blank. But his thoughts…
> It's begun.
> The ring… Yao Lao is awakening. Slowly. Absorbing Xiao Yan's strength to recover.
The spirit inside is still weak. It will take time…
> Three more years. Just three. And he'll rise beyond anything this continent has seen.
Xiao Ranyu blinked and stepped forward, his voice trembling just enough to be convincing.
"Third brother… maybe it's temporary. You'll recover. You always do."
Xiao Yan didn't respond. He just sat there, staring.
Xiao Li growled, "What do we tell the clan?! First he's a genius, now this? They'll say he's cursed!"
Gu Wenxin's eyes flashed. "We tell them nothing. No outsider gets to label my son anything ."
Xiao Zhan added, low and steady, "We'll find a way. We always do."
Still, Xiao Yan said nothing.
But deep within the silence…
Something is awakening.
The ring was silent.
But fate was no longer still.