The early morning sun peeked through the curtains of Jigen's room, painting golden streaks across the tiled floor. The alarm clock buzzed exactly at 7:00 AM, a sharp beep that resonated in the stillness of the peaceful home. Jigen slowly stirred, his eyes fluttering open to the familiar sight of the ceiling he'd memorized since childhood. Another ordinary day in the city of Shanghai—ordinary for everyone else, at least.
He sat up, brushed his raven-black hair away from his face, and let out a small yawn. A moment later, he reached for his glasses—not because he needed them, but because they completed the image he maintained: the average, unremarkable teenager.
Downstairs, the aroma of freshly cooked breakfast wafted upward, wrapping Jigen in its warm embrace. His mother, elegant as always, stood by the kitchen counter dressed in a floral hanfu, flipping scallion pancakes with precise grace.
"Morning, sweetheart," she said with a smile that could rival the sunrise.
"Morning, Mom." Jigen slid into a chair and began sipping the soy milk she'd poured for him. His father sat across the table, casually flipping through the digital newspaper.
Jiang Mu, Jigen's father, glanced at his son over the rim of his cup. "Another day at school, huh?" he asked, a spark of amusement dancing in his eyes.
Jigen nodded. "Same routine. Nothing special."
His mother chuckled as she placed a plate in front of him. "You say that, but Akai has been calling here every morning for the past three days. She's quite the enthusiastic friend."
Jigen shrugged. "She's just… persistent."
"She's the only girl in a decade who's managed to get past your iron wall," his father added.
Jigen offered no reply. Instead, he quietly finished his breakfast and headed upstairs to change into his uniform. The mirror caught his reflection: tall, slender frame, eyes that held infinite calm, and a smile that barely reached his lips. An enigma wrapped in a mundane disguise.
---
At school, the courtyard buzzed with life. Students gathered in clusters, chatting about cultivation techniques, sparring results, or the latest rumors circulating the school network. Jigen strolled through them like a ghost in daylight—acknowledged but never fully seen.
Akai spotted him the moment he entered the gate.
She sprinted across the courtyard, her long white hair flowing behind her like a celestial banner. "Jigen!" she called, waving her arm frantically. Her silver eyes sparkled under the morning sun.
He sighed softly. "Here we go again."
Akai slowed as she reached him, panting slightly but smiling wide. "Did you see the post on the school forum? They're starting the cultivation dueling championship next week."
"I'm not a cultivator," Jigen replied coolly.
"Exactly why I think you should join."
He gave her a sidelong glance. "You do know how logic works, right?"
Akai laughed. "I do. But rules are just social constructs. Break 'em!"
She grabbed his sleeve and led him toward the classroom.
---
Class began with Master Yan delivering a detailed lecture on Qi synchronization. The class listened attentively, jotting down notes and asking occasional questions. Jigen, however, simply stared out the window.
"Jigen."
He turned slowly. "Yes, Master Yan?"
"What's the primary method of detecting spiritual imbalance during cultivation?"
Jigen blinked. "You're asking the one guy here who doesn't cultivate."
A few students chuckled, but Master Yan remained firm. "And yet, I suspect you still know the answer."
Jigen let out a breath. "Pulse reflection. It's based on the rate and irregularity of Qi flow observed through the central meridians."
Silence.
"Correct," the teacher said with a satisfied nod. "Excellent."
Akai smirked from the seat beside him. "For someone who claims to be average, you sure answer questions like a Sage."
"I read," Jigen said simply.
---
The day unfolded without surprises. Lunchtime arrived, and students scattered across the courtyard and cafeteria. Jigen, as usual, chose solitude under the ginkgo tree.
But Akai had other plans.
She appeared with a lunch box—two, actually. One neatly packed, and the other slightly messier.
"I made these," she declared.
"I have lunch."
She ignored him and sat down. "So do I."
Jigen blinked at the second box. "That's mine, isn't it?"
"Maybe."
He accepted it with a sigh. "Persistent."
"And proud of it."
As they ate together under the golden leaves, Akai suddenly asked, "Why do you avoid people?"
He paused, chewing slowly. "I don't. People just don't try as hard as you do."
"So you like effort?"
He gave her a look. "I tolerate it."
She beamed. "That's basically love in Jigen-language."
He nearly choked on his rice.
---
After school, as they walked toward the gate, a group of upperclassmen stood blocking the path. Among them was Lin Zhen, the self-proclaimed prince of martial arts.
"Well, well, the non-cultivator and his guardian angel," Lin sneered.
Akai took a step forward. "Wanna try me again?"
Lin chuckled. "You're scary, but we're not here for a fight. Just curious. What makes you so interested in this guy?"
Akai crossed her arms. "Because he's honest. And that makes him rare."
Lin rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Don't come crying when he breaks your heart."
Jigen, unfazed, said calmly, "Thanks for your unsolicited concern."
The group eventually dispersed, and Akai exhaled. "They're always trying to provoke you."
"I'm not easy to provoke."
"That's why it's so satisfying to watch them fail."
Jigen gave her a rare smile.
Akai blinked, stunned. "Wait… did you just smile?"
"I do that sometimes," he replied.
She grinned. "I'm keeping that memory forever."
---
Later that night, Jigen sat at his desk, staring at a blank screen. The world outside was quiet. The lights of Shanghai flickered like stars below the heavens.
He reached for his journal, flipped to a blank page, and wrote:
"Today felt… less ordinary."
Then he stopped, staring at the words.
Was this what normal felt like?
Even the strongest being in the world could crave a simple moment of peace. Maybe, just maybe, this ordinary life was extraordinary after all.
The sun had set, casting an amber glow over the towering skyline of Shanghai City. Cultivation lights blinked in the distance like celestial lanterns, illuminating the urban canopy as if the stars themselves had descended to mingle with mortals. But amidst this stunning fusion of the ancient and futuristic, Jigen sat in silence, flipping through a worn manga volume, his eyes tracing each panel with idle interest.
It had been a long day at school. The rainstorm that started in the afternoon had subsided, but a soft drizzle still laced the air, misting the windows of his bedroom. On his desk lay untouched scrolls of cultivation theory—mandatory assignments for every student—though Jigen had no need for them. With a yawn, he set the manga down and glanced at the digital clock on his wall: 7:45 PM.
A soft knock echoed through the room.
"Jigen," his mother, Xian Ni, called from outside. "Akai's here. She says it's important."
Jigen blinked. He hadn't expected company.
He opened the door, revealing Akai standing in the hallway, her long white hair slightly damp, tied loosely behind her. She still wore her school uniform, but the jacket was unbuttoned, revealing a layered lavender blouse beneath. Her eyes, like sharp fragments of moonlight, met his.
"Hey," she said. "Can I come in?"
He stepped aside. "Sure."
She walked in, trailing droplets of water behind her. Jigen handed her a towel from the closet.
"Thanks," she murmured, drying her hair.
Silence hovered between them for a moment. The only sound was the hum of a hovercar passing outside.
"So... what's up?" Jigen asked, leaning back against his desk.
Akai hesitated before sitting on the edge of his bed. She stared down at her shoes, then up at him. "I wanted to talk about today."
"About the rain?"
"No. About you."
Jigen raised a brow but said nothing.
She continued, her voice softer now. "You keep everything to yourself. You don't talk to anyone in class. You dodge every friendly gesture. Even when I try to help... you're distant."
Jigen scratched his head. "I'm just not used to people, that's all."
"You say that, but... it feels more like you're hiding something."
He tensed subtly. "Everyone hides something."
Akai tilted her head, studying him. "Are you hiding pain? Or strength?"
That question lingered in the air longer than either expected.
Jigen looked away. "Neither. I'm just trying to live a quiet life."
She smiled faintly. "Quiet doesn't mean lonely."
They sat in silence again. Outside, the drizzle deepened, blurring the city lights into hazy brilliance.
Suddenly, Akai stood. "Let's go for a walk."
"Now? It's raining."
She shrugged. "So? That's the best time to talk."
Jigen sighed but stood as well. Moments later, the two were strolling down the neon-lit alley beside his apartment. The rain painted their surroundings in shifting hues of red, blue, and violet. A thin mist curled around their ankles like curious spirits.
They walked without speaking for a while. The rhythm of their steps mingled with the soft patter of raindrops.
"You know," Akai finally said, "when I first saw you at school, I thought you were just another rich boy with no cultivation talent."
Jigen smirked. "Not far off."
"But then I saw your eyes. They're different. Like you know more than you let on."
He said nothing.
"And today," she added, "when those upperclassmen tried to bully you, you didn't even flinch. It was like you were humoring them."
Jigen turned toward her. "Do you think I'm some kind of secret master cultivator?"
She laughed. "I don't know what you are. But you're not normal."
Jigen looked up at the rainclouds. "Maybe not. But I just want to live an ordinary life. No attention, no drama."
"Even if the world pulls you into something greater?"
"Even then."
Akai slowed to a stop. They were standing beneath a glowing crystal tree—a product of cultivation technology that absorbed rain and emitted warmth. She leaned against it, arms folded.
"Then at least let someone walk with you in that quiet life."
Jigen turned to her, his expression unreadable. "Why?"
"Because... I like being around you. Even if you don't say much. Even if you act like you don't care."
He chuckled softly. "You're persistent."
"And you're stubborn. So we balance each other out."
A pause.
Then he said, "Fine. Friends, then."
Her smile widened. "I'll take that. For now."
They continued walking, side by side, under the gentle rain.
Back at home, Jigen stared at his reflection in the mirror. The boy looking back wore the mask of ordinary life well. But beneath it...
He sighed.
"Let's keep this up," he whispered to himself. "Just a while longer."