The next dawn brought with it a sharp clarity. The mist that had blanketed the orchard the past few mornings lifted in thin ribbons, revealing the full breadth of the valley beyond.
Sunlight spilled like honey over the hills, golden and slow, casting long, warm beams through the orchard canopy. The air was thick with the scent of plum blossoms and incense.
Tian Shen woke before the bell, as always. He moved through his forms slowly, deliberately, letting his breath guide his movements. Today, each motion felt heavier. Not in the body—but in the spirit. The Vault was stirring. And with it, the world.
By the time the others emerged—yawning, stretching, their robes tucked and belted for the day—he was already waiting by the training tree. Drowsy watched from above, her ears twitching lazily in the breeze.
Ji Luan approached first, staff in hand. "Are we telling them today?"
Tian Shen didn't look away from the horizon. "Yes. But gently."
