The moment they stepped into the Elder private chamber, the atmosphere changed.
The noise of the outside world seemed to fade away.
Warm yellow lights illuminated the spacious room. Rows of wooden cabinets lined the walls, each drawer marked with handwritten labels that had long faded with age.
Bundles of dried herbs hung neatly from overhead racks, their earthy scent blending with the faint aroma of sandalwood drifting from a burner near the window.
Despite belonging to one of the most respected Seers of the Lycan Clans, the chamber resembled an old-fashioned clinic more than anything mystical.
A kettle quietly heated water in one corner.
An electric clock ticked softly against the wall.
Ancient traditions existed alongside modern conveniences.
No one found it strange anymore.
Well...
Almost no one.
Cheung Qi still stared at the sight with undisguised disbelief.
No matter how many times he visited the ancestral grounds, he still found the contrast absurd.
Outside, people lived in a world of smartphones, online banking, and artificial intelligence. Businesses ran on digital systems, meetings were held through video calls, and almost everything could be done with the touch of a screen.
Yet inside the elders' residence, medicine was still measured by hand. Herbs were ground using stone mortars, and remedies were brewed according to recipes older than the recorded history of the Lycan Clans.
Once, unable to hold back his curiosity, he had even offered to purchase modern equipment before to make their work easier.
Machines, electronic scales, and automatic herbal grinders.
Anything that could save them from unnecessary labor, but the elder seers had merely smiled at him, and said.
'Old tools carry patience. Patience carries intention.'
Then, she added in her usual cryptic manner,
'Modern creations are born from convenience, but convenience often breeds greed. Too much comfort entertains the mind, weakens discipline, and teaches people to depend on ease rather than effort.'
Cheung Qi, hadn't fully understood what she meant.
To be fair, seers rarely spoke in straightforward answers. They preferred parables and riddles, offering truths wrapped in lessons that only revealed themselves much later.
In the end, he had simply nodded and let them continue living as they always had.
Simple, unhurried, and unchanged by the outside world.
Because if there was one thing Cheung Qi had learned growing up among them, it was this; among all the people he knew, the seers were the ones who had witnessed the most.
They saw what others overlooked, remembered what others had forgotten, and sometimes...
They understood truths that ordinary people were not yet ready to hear.
Cheung Qi glanced toward the Elder seers back as she led them deeper into her chamber.
He couldn't help but rub the back of his neck.
Hei Bao carefully carried Gou Feng deeper into the room.
The young man remained asleep in his arms.
Even unconscious, his brows were faintly furrowed.
The Elder seers, whose name is Memu, turned toward a cushioned examination bed.
"Lay him there."
Without hesitation, Hei Bao obeyed.
His movements were unusually careful as he lowered Gou Feng onto the bed. He adjusted the blanket around the sleeping young man and brushed a few damp strands of hair away from his face.
Only after making sure Gou Feng was comfortable did he straighten and step back.
Cheung Qi stood nearby, unable to conceal the worry etched across his face.
Behind Elder Memu, her three apprentices worked in silence.
One prepared several small instruments, another arranged clean clothes on a nearby table, while the third moved toward the kettle heating over the stove.
Memu slowly approached the bed, and her weathered hand settled gently around Gou Feng's wrist.
She closed her eyes, and immediately silence descended upon the chamber.
The only sounds were the steady breathing of the sleeping young man.
Several moments passed, and several more.
Cheung Qi shifted uneasily on the couch, and called quietly.
"...Elder?"
Memu's fingers trembled almost imperceptibly. At last, her clouded eyes opened.
She lowered her gaze to Gou Feng's sleeping face.
"...This child has suffered since he was very young."
The quiet statement caused everyone in the room to fall still.
Memu continued softly.
"Even after being given another home... another identity..."
Her gaze shifted briefly toward Hei Bao.
"...he has barely learned how to open his heart and tell others about the burdens he carries."
Cheung Qi lowered his eyes.
It was true. Gou Feng rarely complained, and rarely asked for help as well.
Even after becoming part of the Lycan Clan, he remained cautious and restrained.
Quiet, as though he believed that revealing too much of himself would only burden those around him.
Memu's expression softened.
"He still believes that some pain is his alone to endure."
Hei Bao's gaze settled on Gou Feng.
Even in sleep, the young man's expression remained troubled.
One of Memu's apprentices stepped forward.
"Elder."
Memu nodded.
"Let it boil for thirty minutes."
The apprentice bowed and moved toward the kettle.
Elder Memu turned back to Hei Bao and Cheung Qi, who now sat on separate couches nearby.
"I will have him drink Moonveil Dewroot."
Cheung Qi blinked.
"Moonveil Dewroot?"
"It is a medicinal herb that grows only within our ancestral grounds," Memu explained.
"It blooms beneath the first full moon of each season and wilts before sunrise."
One of the apprentices respectfully presented a small ceramic container.
Inside lay several pale silver petals, delicate as frost.
"It cannot stop the dreams," Memu said.
"Nor can it erase whatever troubles him."
Her eyes returned to Gou Feng.
"But it can replenish the energy he loses after each nightmare. It will strengthen his body and lessen the strain these recurring episodes place upon him."
Cheung Qi visibly relaxed.
"Then that's good—"
"It's not a cure," Memu interrupted gently.
The fragile sense of relief in the room faded at once.
"It merely allows his body to endure."
Cheung Qi's expression stiffened, while Hei Bao's brows furrowed.
"What exactly are these dreams?" he asked, his voice low and steady.
He looked at the sleeping young man on the bed before returning his gaze to the elder.
"Why have they been tormenting him like this?"
Memu fell silent, it took a while before she finally spoke.
"As Seers, we are sometimes permitted to witness fragments of what lies ahead. But we are forbidden from interfering."
Cheung Qi frowned.
"What do you mean?"
Memu lifted her gaze to meet his.
"What we are allowed to do is offer warnings. No more. No less."
Her expression remained calm and composed.
"If we defy the laws of nature, time, and heaven..."
She paused briefly before continuing.
"...our gift will abandon us, and we will die alongside it."
A heavy silence settled over the chamber.
Even Cheung Qi, who always seemed to have something to say, found himself speechless.
Memu lowered her hand, and gently stroked the top of Gou Feng's head.
The gesture was tender, resembling that of a grandmother comforting a sleeping child.
"This child is approaching a breakthrough."
Hei Bao's brows drew together.
"A breakthrough?"
Memu nodded.
"The blood sleeping within him is awakening."
Her voice remained soft and steady.
"He was born human. Because of that, his body will struggle to adjust once again, much like it did the first time he drank your blood as a child."
Hei Bao's gaze sharpened.
"But that is not the only reason for his suffering." Memu's hand rested lightly against Gou Feng's white hair.
"Your golden blood did more than preserve his life. It also stirred the karma carried by his soul." She further explains.
"The debts and unfinished ties from his previous life are beginning to awaken."
Hearing those words, the apprentices standing nearby exchanged subtle glances with one another.
It was a brief reaction, gone almost as quickly as it appeared.
Neither Hei Bao nor Cheung Qi noticed.
Cheung Qi swallowed.
"...Previous life?"
Memu did not answer him directly.
Instead, she continued.
"People connected to his past will gradually reappear."
Her clouded eyes lowered to Gou Feng's sleeping face.
"Some will return because of gratitude. Others because of regret, affection, and resentment. The threads left unfinished will eventually find their way back to him."
She slowly raised her eyes.
"And when that time comes..."
Her gaze settled directly on Hei Bao.
"...you must be prepared."
Hei Bao frowned at that.
"Prepared for what?"
Memu looked at him quietly, and she said,
"Otherwise, you may lose the opportunity to heal yourself."
Cheung Qi blinked in confusion.
"Heal himself?"
Memu paid no attention to the question.
"There was a reason this child's soul was born into the human realm," she said softly.
"But even Seers cannot fully comprehend heaven's intentions."
Her fingers lightly brushed Gou Feng's forehead.
"The path ahead has already begun to change."
Her expression remained tranquil, but an unusual solemnity lingered in her eyes.
"This child… will soon stand face to face with the person he once was."
The chamber fell silent once more.
No one spoke.
Cheung Qi felt a chill creep down his spine.
Hei Bao lowered his gaze toward the sleeping young man on the bed.
Gou Feng remained unconscious, unaware of the storm gathering around him.
His breathing was soft and even.
Yet the tears staining the corners of his eyes had not completely dried.
As though, somewhere deep within those dreams, a forgotten past was already calling him home.