Somewhere Above The Clouds.
Hundreds of kilometres away, where the last roads gave way to mountain paths, another morning had already begun.
The wind swept across the ridge, carrying pine and damp stone. The mountain was quiet — not because life avoided it. Everything that lived there had learned not to disturb the silence.
Clouds drifted beneath the cliffs rather than above them, turning the valleys into a white sea that stretched to the horizon. Mist moved between the pines, lazy on the wind.
Stone steps wound down the mountainside, their edges worn smooth by generations that had climbed before sunrise and descended after dusk. Wild grass pushed through the cracks. Somewhere nearby, water moved over rock, and birds answered it.
On the flat stone platform near the summit, two figures sat facing the valley. Neither moved. Between them rested a weathered wooden chessboard. The pieces had not been touched for hours.
The wind lifted the sleeves of their robes before letting them fall again but they remained perfectly still.
Time had become difficult to judge around them. Birds landed nearby without fear. Even the wind seemed quieter.
BáiWùShí slowly opened his eyes. He looked no older than twenty-seven, yet there was something strangely settled about him. Like someone who had long ago stopped arguing with the world.
He let out a quiet sigh. The mist before him drifted apart.
"...Still can't cross over?"
RuǎnQīng opened her eyes. Her gaze remained on the valley below, she watched a single leaf spiral down into the valley below. Ruǎn Qīng turned her head and looked at him before immediately understanding what he meant.
Her brows knitted together.
"You still haven't?"
Bái Wù Shí shook his head. His expression remained calm, though a trace of helplessness lingered behind it.
"No."
For nearly three years... His cultivation had remained exactly where it was.
'Tier7.5'.
For someone only twenty-seven years old, reaching such a level should have been enough to shake the cultivation world.
Yet Bái Wù Shí never looked at those beneath him. His eyes were fixed on the step above. A step he simply could not reach.
Ruǎn Qīng studied him quietly. She herself had only recently stepped into Tier6.95. Everyone within the sect believed it was only a matter of time before she reached the next threshold.
But Bái Wù Shí... he had been standing before the same gate for years. No matter how much he cultivated... No matter how deeply he comprehended... The gate refused to open.
"I told you before."
Ruǎn Qīng's voice softened.
"If Zhǎngmén allows it..."
"...let me share the burden with you. You don't have to carry it alone."
Bái Wù Shí smiled faintly, but he didn't answer. His fingers absent-mindedly brushed the weathered wooden bead bracelet around his wrist. The beads had darkened with age... or perhaps with something else.
Ruǎn Qīng watched him.
"...You're still refusing."
"I am."
"Why?"
Bái Wù Shí laughed quietly.
"If I give you half..."
"...then you'll carry half."
"And?"
"I don't want that."
Bái Wù Shí sighed.
"...You're stubborn."
"So I've been told."
She looked away toward the valley below.
"...You're impossible."
"I've heard that before."
A comfortable silence settled between them.
Ruǎn Qīng tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. After a while, Ruǎn Qīng nudged him lightly with her elbow.
"Dà Shīxiōng."
"...Mm?"
"Will you tell me now?"
Bái Wù Shí looked toward the distant horizon.
Far below them lay villages waking to another ordinary day.
Smoke rose from kitchen chimneys. Someone somewhere struck a bell. Children would soon be running through narrow streets.
Life continued exactly as it always had.
"There are things that become lighter after they're spoken."
Ruǎn Qīng smiled.
"And?"
"There are also things that become heavier."
Bái Wù Shí stood without answering. His gaze lingered on the endless mountain ranges beyond the clouds. The movement startled a sparrow perched nearby. It fluttered away into the trees.
Then he began walking toward the stone steps leading downhill.
He picked up neither the chessboard nor the pieces.
Ruǎn Qīng blinked.
"...Again?"
She hurried after him.
"Dà Shīxiōng!"
He didn't slow down.
"You've been keeping this from me for months."
Still nothing.
"You know I hate it when you do this."
The corners of Bái Wù Shí's mouth lifted ever so slightly.
"When you understand... you'll wish you didn't."
Ruǎn Qīng fell silent.
For the first time that morning... She chose not to ask another question.
The mountain breeze suddenly felt colder.
The headquarters of ET had never been a place where people lingered.
Its corridors were spotless, almost unnaturally so. White lights stretched endlessly overhead, reflecting off polished floors that had never known dust. Researchers passed each other carrying stacks of reports and sealed containers, their conversations clipped to only what was necessary.
Efficiency was the closest thing ET had to culture. Nobody talks. ET researchers pass by. Nobody greets anyone. The deeper they go... the colder ET feels.
Somewhere beneath the main research division, a lift descended without stopping. Inside stood four people. No one spoke.
THE SÌ FACES OF DOOM.
Huáng Nián Qīng and the rest of the Sì Faces of Doom had been called back. They had not been requested but ordered.
They've barely recovered from their defeat. Guō Yán Huǒ is still irritated. Shí Kǎi is treating his injuries. Bái Hán Shuāng is unusually quiet. Huáng Nián Qīng is the only one thinking.
Guō Yán Huǒ leaned against the wall with both arms folded across his chest. His bandaged knuckles tapped impatiently against his sleeve.
"Tch."
He clicked his tongue.
"What kind of meeting gets called this suddenly?"
Nobody answered.
Across from him, Bái Hán Shuāng lowered her eyes to the floor. The injuries from her fight with Mù Xiāo Xiāo had healed, but she could still remember the weight behind every punch.
That woman...
...she fought like the earth itself had decided not to move.
Shí Kǎi adjusted the cuff around his wrist.
"It isn't Director-level."
His voice was quiet.
"If it were, we would've been called individually."
Huáng Nián Qīng stood nearest the elevator door. She hadn't spoken since entering. Her gaze remained fixed on the changing floor numbers.
The others thought about their defeat. She thought about Violet.
That woman...
No.
Calling her a woman didn't feel right. She had watched Violet throughout the battle.
She had joked. She had eaten popcorn. She had spoken to Factor IV as though she had arranged the entire battlefield herself.
Not once...
Not once had she looked surprised.
Huáng Nián Qīng disliked opponents she couldn't read.
The elevator slowed. A soft chime echoed. The doors opened.
A researcher in a grey coat bowed slightly.
"The Director is waiting."
The four exchanged brief glances before following.
None of them asked why.
In ET...
...you never asked why.
Several provinces away... in the ETChildren'sWing
The eastern compound of ET looked nothing like its laboratories.
There were no steel walls, no research equipment. Instead, high fences surrounded a large training yard where dozens of children were already running morning drills.
Some couldn't have been older than seven. Others were entering their teens.
A shrill emergency alarm shattered the morning calm.
WEEEEEOOOO—!
WEEEEEOOOO—!
The blaring siren echoed through every corridor of the eastern compound. It wasn't an alarm clock. It was the alarm nobody wanted to hear.
'Escape'.
Nán Lín's eyes snapped open.
"...Ah!"
She sat upright so quickly that her blanket landed on the floor. Her hair was a complete mess. Her face twisted into pure frustration. She glared at the wall where the sound of the offending alarm came, as though sheer hatred might make it explode.
"...Seriously?!"
Outside, the emergency siren continued screaming.
She grabbed the nearest crimson outer robe hanging from a wooden stand. The robe was the traditional style she always preferred—light enough to move freely in, its sleeves narrow enough not to interfere with combat, the deep red fabric flowing only to her calves.
Within moments she had tied the sash around her waist and stormed outside.
The alarm was still blaring.
Children were already scattering across the training yard. Some ran toward the dormitories. Others froze where they stood. One little boy was almost over the perimeter fence.
Nán Lín spotted him immediately.
"Oh, for heaven's sake..."
She strode across the yard without hurrying. The closer she came, the colder the air became. She didn't even sigh anymore. She simply raised one hand. Cold spread across the ground.
The grass whitened.
Just as the boy swung one leg over the fence—
Crack.
Ice shot forward in a thin line before wrapping itself neatly around the boy's ankle. He yelped as both feet left the fence and landed awkwardly on the ground.
Nán Lín stopped a few metres away. Her expression wasn't fierce. It was tired.
"I said..."
Her voice carried across the entire yard.
"...stop trying to escape."
Her voice wasn't loud. Every child froze. She looked from one child to another before rubbing her forehead.
The morning suddenly became very quiet.
"Do you all think... that I enjoy waking up to this alarm every other morning?"
Nán Lín walked over, rubbing sleep from one eye. She looked more tired than angry.
"Do you all think..."
She stopped in front of them.
"...that I actually enjoy babysitting?"
Nobody answered.
The little boy lowered his head.
"...Sorry."
Nán Lín sighed.
"I'm twenty-three. I should be sleeping. I should be doing literally anything else."
She looked around at the rows of frightened children.
"Instead..."
She gestured toward the children.
"...I'm chasing all of you before breakfast."
One little girl sniffled. Then another.
One little girl suddenly burst into tears. Another followed.
Within moments, crying spread through the yard.
Nán Lín stared blankly at the scene.
"..."
"Oh, come on."
She looked genuinely defeated.
"I wasn't even shouting."
The instructor standing nearby hid his laughter by coughing into his fist.
Nán Lín shot him a glare.
"You think this is funny?"
"...No."
"It looked like you did."
"...I value my life too much."
"Why are you even here?"
"Bi-weekly inspection."
Nán Lín spoke rapidly.
"Another escape attempt. Successfully thwarted. Thank you very much. Tip up my salary."
She clicked her tongue and waved a hand. The ice around the little boy's ankle melted away.
"Go line up."
He scrambled back into formation without another word.
One little girl quietly raises a hand.
"...Miss Nán..."
"What?"
"...Can I go to the toilet?"
"...Go."
"...Thank you."
The little girl runs away.
Nán Lín watches her leave.
"...At least someone asks."
Nán Lín watched the children settle down before letting out a long breath.
Sometimes she wondered...
Who exactly was imprisoned here?
The children?
Or everyone else?