The moon hung heavy and swollen above the sect's lofty ridges, its silver light pouring across the rooftops like milk spilled from heaven.
Tian Shen pushed open the modest door to the courtyard residence where he, Feng Yin, Little Mei, and their lazy-birdie had taken root since joining the sect.
A delicate warmth spread through him.
Not from Spiritual Qi.
Not from whatever arcane hitchhiker might be nesting in his soul.
But from the simple sound of clinking bowls and familiar voices.
"You're back!"
Little Mei's muffled shout came from inside, punctuated by a loud slap of something hitting a table.
"If you think we're saving you the crispy dumplings, you're dreaming!"
A lazy voice yawned from further within.
"Let him come in before you start yelling. He might've been eaten by a formation ghost or… got beaten to death by Elder Su."
Feng Yin's voice.
Low But Smug.
Tian Shen blinked, then smirked.
He stepped in.
"You say that like I wouldn't enjoy dying that way."
