The thirteen responded to having free time by constructing a battlefield.
Lin Shuying discovered this on the twelfth morning after Jingyuan's transition.
She had come to deliver three reports.
One concerned the northern cultivation district, which had successfully adapted its primary arrays to the lower ambient density without requesting restoration of the old flow.
The second concerned a returning spirit-beast herd that had crossed its ancestral migration route without attacking the village now standing beside it.
The third concerned the eastern regulator, which had survived its second communal furnace cycle and, according to Qi Qinghe's attached note, had only attempted to ruin seventeen hundred refinements instead of two thousand three hundred and eleven.
Lin considered that progress.
She entered the temporary residence Qinghe City had offered the Gatebearers.
Nobody was there.
A servant pointed upward.
Lin looked toward the ceiling.
"Up?"
The servant looked uncertain.
"Not exactly."
That was not helpful.
Lin followed the resonance marker Canglan had permitted her to use for mission reports.
It led to an empty courtyard.
Then stopped.
Lin stared.
A circular gate of pale light appeared.
She stared harder.
Long Canglan stepped through.
He was wearing different clothes than he had worn ten breaths earlier through the projection call.
The outer layer of his robe was torn.
One sleeve was scorched.
Lin looked at him.
Then at the gate.
Then back.
"You said you were resting."
"We are."
A crash came from somewhere beyond the gate.
Not sound exactly.
Pressure translated into sound because Lin's senses lacked a better language for it.
The courtyard stones trembled.
Canglan looked over his shoulder.
Lin folded her arms.
"What do you call this?"
"Training."
"That is not resting."
"It is relative."
Lin closed her eyes.
"You have been spending too much time with Xuanye."
"No."
Another impact passed through the gate.
This one made Lin's formation instincts scream.
She stepped backward.
Canglan noticed.
"The dimension is isolated."
"That did not answer anything."
"It cannot affect Jingyuan."
"That was not my concern."
Canglan looked at her.
Lin pointed toward his sleeve.
"You appear to have lost an argument with something."
He looked down.
"Zhaoyan."
"Of course."
The answer came too quickly.
Lin had met Long Zhaoyan.
It explained itself.
Canglan stepped aside.
"Do you want to see?"
Lin hesitated.
She was a formation master.
Curiosity was a professional illness.
"Yes."
He extended one hand.
Not toward her.
Toward the gate.
"Stay inside the marked boundary."
Lin entered.
The world changed.
There was no sky.
Then there was.
There was no ground.
Then a vast plain appeared beneath her feet.
Mountains rose in the distance.
Not Jingyuan mountains.
Temporary ones.
Constructed.
Replaceable.
Already broken.
Several were missing their upper halves.
Lin stopped walking.
"What happened?"
Canglan followed her gaze.
"Nothing unusual."
She turned slowly.
"Nothing."
"No."
A line of light crossed the horizon.
Long Jinheng struck something.
The mountain behind it disappeared.
Lin stared.
Canglan looked toward the far battlefield.
"Too much."
Lin's voice was quiet.
"That was too much?"
"For the exercise."
She looked at him.
He meant it.
A transparent barrier surrounded the observation platform.
Beyond it, the other Gatebearers were scattered across the temporary dimension.
Ninefold resonance moved between them.
Lin could not see the structure.
She felt the shadow of it.
Thirteen presences overlapping without becoming one.
Mu Shuyin stood beside Qi Qinghe adjusting an array interface woven into her permanent equipment.
Han Zhenyu was several miles away beneath a falling ridge.
He lifted one arm.
The ridge stopped.
Jin Lianzhen shouted something.
His equipment changed.
Not appearance alone.
Function.
The reinforcement around his shoulders loosened as soon as the strain shifted from vertical load to lateral pressure.
Lin narrowed her eyes.
"That armor was different yesterday."
Canglan nodded.
"Lianzhen altered the response pattern."
"New armor?"
"No."
"Then?"
"Same system. More history."
Lin looked toward Jin Lianzhen.
The Pixiu Gatebearer stood beside a temporary forge structure that had not existed when Lin first looked.
Tools floated around her.
Not replacing equipment.
Adjusting it.
Teaching it.
Jin Lianzhen struck a gauntlet plate once.
The metal rang.
Han's shoulder guard changed shape.
He looked toward her.
She pointed.
"Again."
Han shifted.
The armor adjusted earlier this time.
Lianzhen nodded.
Then walked toward him.
Lin glanced at Canglan.
"They do this every day?"
"Something like this."
"You saved my Realm and immediately resumed training."
"We trained before the crisis ended."
Lin stared.
Canglan considered.
"That sounded worse aloud."
"Yes."
A flame crossed the plain.
Lin recognized Zhaoyan before she recognized the fire.
The Primordial Dragon King accelerated through three prepared formation fields without touching the ground.
Every field changed as he entered.
Mu redirected one.
Qinghe altered another.
Shen Yaoran caught the pressure displaced from a third and sent it toward Qiu Liezhen.
Qiu stepped once.
The boundary changed.
The fire had nowhere convenient to go.
Zhaoyan laughed.
Then Long Jinheng hit him.
Lin did not see the strike.
She saw Zhaoyan become very far away.
The barrier around the observation platform hummed.
Canglan's expression sharpened.
Not concern.
Interest.
Lin looked toward Jinheng.
He had not followed.
He stood where he had struck.
Zhaoyan returned.
Much faster.
The next collision cracked the plain.
Lin's eyes widened.
"Are they sparring?"
"Not yet."
She slowly looked at Canglan.
"Not yet."
"This is a drill."
"What is the spar?"
Canglan looked toward the two Dragons.
"They have been discussing that."
Lin decided she did not like the answer.
Zhaoyan landed beside Jinheng.
The two spoke.
Too far for Lin to hear.
Then Zhaoyan pointed toward the scar his impact had carved across the plain.
Jinheng looked.
Shook his head.
Zhaoyan became animated.
Jinheng folded his arms.
Zhaoyan pointed at himself.
Then at Jinheng.
Then toward a mountain.
Jinheng laughed.
Lin looked toward Canglan.
"What are they saying?"
"He says Jinheng only caught him because the exercise limited his acceleration."
"And Jinheng?"
"Says Zhaoyan only believes that because nobody has hit him hard enough recently."
Lin stared.
Canglan:
"They have had this discussion before."
"How often?"
"Today?"
"Yes."
"Three times."
Lin lowered her face into one hand.
Canglan almost smiled.
She saw.
Again.
"You did it."
"No."
"You are becoming careless."
"I am not."
Ji Xuanyue appeared beside them.
Lin jumped.
Ji smiled.
"Morning."
"How long have you been there?"
"Long enough."
Canglan looked at her.
Ji looked innocent.
Lin did not believe her.
Ji leaned toward the barrier.
"Are they finally going to do it?"
Canglan:
"Probably."
Lin turned.
"Do what?"
Ji smiled wider.
Canglan sighed.
"Full-power spar."
Lin looked through the barrier.
At the two beings currently arguing over whether one continent-breaking collision counted as being caught.
"That was not full power."
"No."
Ji sounded delighted.
Lin looked toward Canglan.
He nodded.
Very slightly.
Lin decided the sane response would be to leave.
She did not.
"When?"
Canglan considered.
"A few days."
Ji looked at him.
"They agreed?"
"Not formally."
Zhaoyan shouted across the dimension.
"Jinheng!"
Jinheng turned.
"Tomorrow."
Jinheng answered:
"No."
"Coward."
Jinheng disappeared.
Zhaoyan blocked.
The impact flattened a newly formed ridge.
Jinheng's voice carried:
"Two days."
Zhaoyan laughed.
Ji looked at Lin.
"Two days."
Lin stared at the ruined ridge.
"I understood."
Ji leaned toward her.
"You should come."
Lin looked at her.
"To that?"
"Yes."
"No."
Ji smiled.
Lin hesitated.
"Is it safe?"
Canglan answered.
"Yes."
"Actually safe?"
"Yes."
"How?"
"We reduce what reaches the observation area."
"How much?"
Canglan considered.
"Enough."
Lin narrowed her eyes.
He added:
"Almost all of it."
That answer somehow made her more curious.
Ji saw.
"Come."
Lin looked toward the battlefield.
At Zhaoyan and Jinheng.
At the temporary mountains.
At Canglan's torn sleeve.
"I will consider it."
Ji's smile said she had already won.
Lin hated that smile.
A little.
Training continued until midday.
The thirteen did not train as they had before Jingyuan.
That was the point.
Mission experience entered everything.
When Ninefold opened, Mu no longer assumed every recipient needed equal access to every change.
Relevance routed information.
When an equipment adaptation arose from a temporary condition, Lianzhen marked it provisional until repeated use justified incorporation.
When Shen redirected pressure, she no longer waited for an obvious command structure.
When Zhenyu became an anchor, the others did not build around the assumption that he would remain one.
When a formation failed, they let it fail if another route remained viable.
Xuanye watched.
They lasted longer.
Not against him.
Today he was not the superior opponent.
Canglan was.
The twelve moved around him.
Suppressed.
Fast.
No Ninefold for the first sequence.
Then Ninefold.
Then equipment restrictions.
Then one Primordial source removed from the lattice without warning.
Then another.
Each variation tested something Jingyuan had exposed.
Not whether the structure could remain perfect.
Whether it survived losing perfection.
Lin watched for almost an hour.
Eventually she understood what frightened her most.
They were not practicing attacks.
Not primarily.
They were practicing what happened when their assumptions were wrong.
That was why they improved so quickly.
Afterward, Lianzhen dismantled half her temporary forge.
The other half remained.
Zhenyu sat beside her.
His damaged shoulder guard rested in her hands.
Lin passed them while following Canglan back toward the gate.
Lianzhen did not look up.
"You moved before it finished adapting."
Zhenyu:
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Jinheng was going to hit Shen."
"He was suppressed."
"Yes."
Lianzhen looked at him.
"That is not an answer."
"It is."
She stared.
Zhenyu stared back.
Lianzhen sighed.
"You knew the equipment was mid-transition."
"Yes."
"And moved anyway."
"Yes."
"You could have trusted Shen."
"Yes."
Lin slowed.
Canglan did not.
Ji, walking beside Lin, also slowed.
Lianzhen set the shoulder guard down.
"Then why?"
Zhenyu thought.
"I wanted to."
Lianzhen's expression changed.
Small.
Warm.
She shook her head.
"That is a terrible technical justification."
"Yes."
She leaned closer.
"Do it again and I will make the shoulder lock until adaptation completes."
Zhenyu frowned.
"That could be worse."
"It would."
"You would not."
Lianzhen smiled.
"No."
She touched his jaw.
Briefly.
Then returned to the armor.
"Wait next time."
Zhenyu nodded.
"Yes."
Ji looked at Lin.
Lin looked at Ji.
Neither spoke until they were outside.
Then Lin said:
"They are together."
Ji:
"Yes."
"I thought so."
"Most people do."
Canglan continued ahead.
Lin looked around.
"Most?"
Ji counted on her fingers.
Lin stopped her.
"No."
Ji laughed.
They returned to Qinghe City beneath a clear afternoon sky.
By then, Jingyuan had produced two new reports.
Neither required intervention.
One required advice.
That was becoming common.
The thirteen trained.
Then checked.
Then trained again.
Then checked again.
Quiet did not mean idleness.
It meant they had enough control over their time to decide what deserved attention.
That evening, Feng Chixiao lost an argument with a street vendor.
Qiu Liezhen watched.
This was better than expected.
The night market occupied six levels of Qinghe City's old canal district.
Lanterns hung between buildings.
Formation bridges shifted every few minutes to redirect pedestrian flow.
Music came from somewhere below.
Cooking smoke rose through carved ventilation shafts carrying enough spice to make Feng pause three streets before they reached the first stalls.
Qiu noticed.
"You smell it."
"Yes."
"You said you were not hungry."
"I am not."
"Then?"
Feng looked toward the stall.
"It smells good."
Qiu walked past him.
Feng followed.
Ten breaths later he was buying skewers.
The vendor looked at him.
Then at Qiu.
Then back.
"How spicy?"
Feng considered.
Qiu answered:
"Enough to hurt him."
Feng looked at her.
The vendor grinned.
"I can do that."
"No, you cannot."
The vendor's grin widened.
This was a mistake.
Feng accepted the first skewer.
Bit.
Waited.
Qiu watched carefully.
Nothing happened.
Feng chewed.
The vendor's confidence weakened.
Qiu sighed.
"You ruined it."
"I did nothing."
"That is the problem."
The vendor reached beneath the stall.
Produced another jar.
"This."
Feng looked interested.
Qiu:
"Better."
The second skewer made Feng pause.
Only for half a breath.
Qiu smiled.
"There."
Feng swallowed.
"Still pleasant."
The vendor looked offended.
Qiu laughed.
Feng bought three more.
They walked.
Neither needed food.
That made choosing it more enjoyable.
Qiu stopped at a stall selling carved spirit-stone figures.
Dragons.
Phoenixes.
Qilins.
Pixius.
Qiongqis.
Most were wrong.
Very wrong.
Qiu picked up a Qiongqi figure.
It had four horns.
She had two.
Its wings were too large.
Its claws were shaped like a hawk's.
Its face appeared permanently furious.
Feng looked over her shoulder.
"Accurate."
Qiu elbowed him.
He smiled.
She turned the carving around.
"They have never seen one."
"Apparently."
The vendor looked nervous.
"You know Qiongqi?"
Qiu glanced at Feng.
Feng looked innocent.
Qiu returned the carving.
"A little."
The vendor relaxed.
"There are old records."
"Bad ones."
The vendor frowned.
"What?"
"Nothing."
Feng picked up a Phoenix.
The carving had six tails.
His eyebrows rose.
Qiu looked.
Then at him.
"Accurate."
He laughed.
She bought it.
Feng stared.
"You are keeping that?"
"Yes."
"It has six tails."
"I know."
"You know I do not."
"Yes."
"Why?"
Qiu handed over the spirit-stones.
"Because it annoys you."
Feng smiled slowly.
Then bought the Qiongqi.
Qiu stared.
"It is ugly."
"Yes."
"It has four horns."
"Yes."
"It does not look like me."
"That is why I like it."
She narrowed her eyes.
He handed her the carving.
"Now we both suffer."
Qiu took it.
They walked on.
Feng reached for her hand.
No hesitation.
Qiu gave it to him.
No ceremony.
They had held hands before.
During travel.
After battle.
In private.
This was different only because nothing required it.
The city moved around them.
Nobody cared.
A pair of young cultivators nearly collided with Feng while chasing each other between stalls.
He moved half a step.
They passed.
Never realized who they had almost run into.
Qiu watched them disappear.
"Do you like this?"
Feng looked at her.
"The market?"
"This."
He understood.
People.
Noise.
Ordinary things.
Nobody requiring him to be a Gatebearer.
Nobody measuring the Primordial Phoenix Emperor against some inherited terror.
Nobody waiting for him to save anything.
He looked around.
"Yes."
Qiu squeezed his hand.
"Good."
They found a street game involving rings, floating targets and a deliberately unstable local formation.
Feng watched one round.
"I understand it."
Qiu:
"Of course you do."
"You throw the ring—"
"I know."
"And the formation alters trajectory."
"Yes."
"So compensate."
"Yes."
"Simple."
Qiu paid for three rings.
Handed them to him.
"Do it."
Feng threw.
The ring missed.
Qiu stared.
Feng stared.
The stall keeper covered a smile.
Feng took the second.
Missed.
Qiu's mouth opened.
"No."
Feng looked betrayed.
The stall keeper laughed.
"It reads spiritual intention."
Feng looked toward him.
The man pointed at a sign.
Feng read it.
The formation deliberately exaggerated conscious correction.
The more precisely he attempted to compensate, the farther the ring drifted.
Qiu was already laughing.
Feng handed her the third.
"You."
She threw.
Missed worse.
Feng smiled.
Qiu looked at him.
He laughed.
She bought six more.
They lost all six.
The stall keeper had never been happier.
On the tenth attempt, Qiu stopped trying to control the ring.
She tossed it lazily.
It landed.
The target chimed.
Feng stared.
Qiu raised both hands.
"I am superior."
"You surrendered to randomness."
"I adapted."
"You gave up."
"I won."
The stall keeper presented her with a small carved moonstone charm.
Qiu handed it to Feng.
He looked down.
"For me?"
"You lost more."
"That is not how prizes work."
"It is now."
He attached it to the inner cord of his sleeve.
Qiu noticed.
Said nothing.
They left the stall.
Several streets later, Feng stopped.
Qiu turned.
"What?"
He was looking toward a bridge.
The canal below reflected thousands of lanterns.
A musician played on the opposite bank.
No crisis.
No training.
No deadline measured in breaths.
Feng stepped onto the bridge.
Qiu followed.
They stood at the center.
For a while, neither spoke.
Then Qiu leaned against him.
Feng rested his cheek lightly against her hair.
People passed.
Nobody stopped.
Eventually Qiu said:
"We should do this again."
Feng:
"Lose at children's games?"
"Yes."
"Cruel."
"You liked it."
"Yes."
She smiled.
"So did I."
They remained until the lanterns began dimming.
At the Third Meridian Court, Lin Shuying received a report at midnight.
Canglan received the same one.
Neither should have still been awake.
Both were.
Lin opened the projection.
His face appeared.
"You are awake."
"So are you."
"I asked first."
"You did not ask."
Lin stared.
Canglan's expression remained perfectly calm.
"You did that deliberately."
"No."
"You learned it from Xuanye."
"No."
"Do you have another word?"
"Yes."
Lin waited.
Canglan:
"No."
She laughed.
The report concerned a western tributary.
Spiritual pressure had dropped six percent over four hours.
Not dangerous.
Possibly seasonal.
Possibly a delayed consequence of reconnecting Black Reed Mountain.
Lin opened the historical records.
Canglan did the same.
They worked.
Not because either needed the other.
Because both were there.
After twenty minutes, Lin found a reference to a lunar tide in an archive four hundred years old.
Canglan compared it to the current cycle.
Match.
"Leave it."
Lin nodded.
"Agreed."
She closed the report.
Neither ended the projection.
Lin noticed.
Canglan probably did too.
She leaned back.
"You know, before you arrived, I thought the worst part of this job was people asking me to fix things that were not broken."
Canglan considered.
"And now?"
"People asking me to restore things that are healthier after they changed."
"Worse?"
"Much."
He nodded.
"Reasonable."
Lin smiled.
The light from the projection softened his face.
That was inconvenient.
Again.
She had spent enough time around him now to know he was not always serious.
He chose seriousness when responsibility demanded it.
When it did not, he could be dry.
Patient.
Occasionally ridiculous.
Far too willing to support Ji when she argued with Xuanye.
Lin liked that part more than she should.
She looked down.
Canglan noticed the silence.
"Tired?"
"A little."
"Sleep."
"You too."
"Yes."
Neither moved.
Lin looked back up.
"Do you always listen when someone tells you that?"
"No."
"Of course."
"Do you?"
"No."
Canglan almost smiled.
There.
Again.
Lin's chest tightened unexpectedly.
She hated that she was beginning to recognize the exact difference between his neutral expression and the one immediately before he smiled.
That knowledge seemed dangerous.
"Canglan."
"Yes?"
She nearly said something.
Not confession.
Nothing that large.
Something smaller.
Personal.
Instead:
"Thank you."
He looked at her.
"For what?"
"Staying."
Canglan was quiet.
Then:
"We were not finished."
"I know."
"That is why."
"I know."
Lin smiled.
"Still."
He accepted that.
"You're welcome."
The projection ended shortly afterward.
Lin remained seated.
The Third Meridian Court was almost empty.
She looked toward the Realm map.
Then toward her dark reflection in the inactive section of the projection.
"This is a problem."
Nobody answered.
Probably for the best.
The next two days passed without a major intervention.
That was new.
Not without reports.
Never without reports.
But Jingyuan's changes increasingly fell into three categories.
Healthy.
Manageable locally.
Interesting.
The thirteen began spending less time directly overseeing the first two.
More time teaching people how to distinguish them.
Training intensified.
Not because Mission 1 had gone badly.
Because it had gone well enough to show them where they were still slow.
Mu redesigned one Ninefold routing sequence after noticing that three recipients had received the same southern migration information despite only Ji and Hanyin needing the full sensory detail.
Qinghe reduced the transmission load.
Shen tested whether the recipients could reject irrelevant support without destabilizing the lattice.
They could.
Barely.
Then reliably.
Lianzhen updated equipment interfaces so provisional adaptations expired more cleanly after the producing condition vanished.
Zhenyu's shoulder system learned not to lock him into one anchoring posture simply because that posture had worked recently.
Hanyin refined Stillwater Thread's ability to preserve infrastructure while allowing controlled failure elsewhere.
Ji spent hours learning to widen causal intervals by less.
That annoyed her.
Xuanye watched one attempt.
"You opened it too far."
"I know."
"Again."
"I know."
She tried again.
Too far.
Xuanye:
"Again."
Ji turned.
"Do you have another word?"
"Yes."
She waited.
"No."
Ji stared.
Canglan, watching from a nearby platform:
"Yes."
Xuanye looked at him.
Canglan remained perfectly serious.
Ji laughed and tried again.
This time the interval opened exactly as far as intended.
Xuanye nodded.
"Good."
Ji's irritation vanished instantly.
She hated that.
Across the dimension, Zhaoyan and Jinheng continued making their upcoming spar everyone else's problem.
They had agreed on conditions.
Full ordinary release.
No Ninefold.
Permanent equipment.
No Embodiment.
No Final states.
No external interference.
Temporary dimension expanded to tolerate the encounter.
The others had opinions.
Many.
Zhaoyan rejected most.
Jinheng rejected the rest.
By the evening before the spar, Lianzhen had reinforced the observation structure three times.
Lin visited during the final preparation.
So did the senior Heavenly Reed Sect Master.
His name was Wei Renshu.
He stood inside the unfinished observation platform and looked toward the empty battlefield.
"How much power will reach us?"
Lianzhen answered without looking up.
"Very little."
Wei Renshu nodded.
"How little?"
"Enough."
He looked toward Lin.
Lin whispered:
"That is apparently contagious."
An eastern formation master named Gao Qiren was inspecting the protective arrays.
He looked pale.
"These aren't formations."
Mu stood beside him.
"They are."
"They do not use Jingyuan law structure."
"No."
"They aren't drawing from a world-vein."
"No."
"What sustains them?"
Mu pointed toward Lianzhen.
Gao Qiren looked.
Lianzhen continued working.
His face changed.
"Oh."
Mu smiled.
Lin watched the locals slowly understand that the protected observation area was not built because the Gatebearers expected the spar to be harmless.
It was built because they expected it not to be.
She found Canglan near the upper boundary.
"Are you fighting too?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Not my match."
"That has never stopped Zhaoyan."
Canglan looked toward her.
Lin smiled.
He almost did.
She was becoming reckless.
Ji appeared beside them.
Again.
Lin did not jump this time.
Progress.
Ji looked toward the observation platform.
"You came."
"I said I would consider it."
"You considered correctly."
Lin looked at her.
Ji's attention shifted toward Canglan.
Then back to Lin.
That smile.
Again.
Lin narrowed her eyes.
Ji smiled wider.
Canglan looked between them.
"What?"
Both women answered:
"Nothing."
Canglan frowned.
Ji left.
Lin watched her go.
"Your generation is exhausting."
"Yes."
"You admit it?"
"Yes."
She laughed.
The final Jingyuan report arrived shortly before sunset.
The northern cultivation district had completed its adaptation.
No request for restored flow.
No emergency compensation.
No formation collapse.
The district had simply rebuilt around what Jingyuan now provided.
Lin read the report twice.
Then sent it to Canglan.
He read it.
Canglan opened the common resonance.
The thirteen answered gradually.
Some immediately.
Some from training.
Feng and Qiu from somewhere in the city.
Xuanye last.
Canglan spoke.
"Northern cultivation district has completed adaptation."
Mu:
"East remains stable."
Hanyin:
"West stable."
Ji:
"Southern migration return completed."
Qinghe:
"Second furnace cycle accepted."
Zhaoyan:
"Finally."
Hanyin:
"You did nothing for the furnace cycle."
"I supported it emotionally."
"No."
Feng laughed.
Canglan continued.
"No meaningful post-transition surprise in two days."
Xuanye:
"Assessment?"
Canglan looked toward Lin.
She knew the question was not only for her.
Still, he waited.
Lin looked at Jingyuan's circulation map.
Alive.
Moving.
Not perfect.
Never perfect.
"It no longer needs you here."
The words felt strange.
Good.
Sad.
Both.
Canglan nodded.
He entered the resonance.
"My recommendation is that we begin departure preparation."
No one objected.
Not even Ji.
Xuanye asked:
"How long?"
Canglan looked toward Lin again.
"One final verification cycle."
She thought.
"Two days."
Canglan:
"Two days."
Xuanye:
"Agreed."
The answer settled through the resonance.
The thirteen would leave Jingyuan.
Not immediately.
Not tonight.
But soon.
For the first time, departure became real.
Lin looked toward the city outside.
Two days.
That was not much.
She had known this would happen.
Knowing had not made it pleasant.
Canglan closed the resonance.
Lin turned toward him.
"What comes next?"
He was quiet for a moment.
Then:
"We decide."
"You don't already know?"
"We have candidates."
Lin's eyebrows rose.
"What kind of candidates?"
"Realms."
Of course.
She folded her arms.
"And you decide which one needs thirteen Gatebearers next."
"Not necessarily needs."
She waited.
Canglan continued.
"Some need help. Some need investigation. Some are unfinished obligations."
Lin thought of Jingyuan.
"Which is most likely?"
Canglan looked toward the training field.
Han Zhenyu stood beside Jin Lianzhen.
They were reviewing another equipment adjustment.
Qi Qinghe was nearby.
Canglan's gaze remained on Han.
"His."
Lin followed.
"The quiet one?"
"Yes."
"What happened to his Realm?"
Canglan did not answer immediately.
Enough for Lin to understand the answer would not be simple.
"War?"
"No."
"Calamity?"
"Yes."
He looked toward Han.
"Before us."
Lin remembered the way Han held Qinghe City.
The way he treated children.
The way his silence seemed older than the rest of him.
"Is it recovering?"
"Yes."
"Then why go?"
"To make sure it keeps doing so."
Lin smiled faintly.
Of course.
She looked toward Canglan.
"You really do not know how to leave things alone."
"When leaving them alone is correct, we do."
"That sounds like something I said."
"You learned quickly."
Lin felt the warmth again.
Very inconvenient.
Beyond them, Zhaoyan shouted at Jinheng from across the temporary dimension.
"Tomorrow."
Jinheng answered:
"I know."
"Do not become tired."
Jinheng laughed.
"From what?"
"Existing."
Jinheng looked toward him.
Zhaoyan grinned.
Wei Renshu, standing nearby, looked toward Lin.
"Are they always like this?"
Lin considered.
"I have known them less than two weeks."
"That was not an answer."
"No."
Wei Renshu sighed.
Lin smiled.
Tomorrow, two Primordial Dragon Kings would fight at full ordinary power inside a dimension built so Jingyuan would never feel the consequences.
The day after, the thirteen would perform their final checks.
Then they would choose another Realm.
Another problem.
Another place to change.
Tonight, Qinghe City was still theirs for a little while.
Lin looked toward Canglan.
He was already reading another report.
Of course.
She stepped beside him.
"What now?"
"Dinner."
She blinked.
Canglan looked toward the city.
"You said I should sleep more."
"Yes."
"I did."
"How much?"
"Enough."
"That is not a number."
He looked at her.
Lin stared.
Then laughed.
Canglan almost smiled.
Almost.
"Come on," she said.
He followed.
Behind them, the temporary battlefield waited for morning.
Ahead, Qinghe City lit its lanterns.
And somewhere beyond Jingyuan, a wounded Peak Grand Realm continued healing among distant stars.