"Welcome to Lanxie, my friend Língxi... as always."
Kage Ou stood tall in the middle of his vast hall, arms outstretched with an overly dramatic flair, his long black sleeves rushing like curtains in the wind. His voice was smooth—far too smooth—almost unrecognizable from the one that had coldly tortured Xio only minutes earlier. A coy smirk played at the corners of his lips.
"Good morning. I hope you don't mind us arriving so early," Língxi said calmly.
Both Língxi and Xuĕ Lánhuā bowed politely. Língxi stood upright again, posture regal, his expression unreadable. One hand rested behind his back, the other gently gripping his sword. He made no move to return Kage Ou's theatrics.
Kage Ou's arms slowly fell to his sides. For a moment, his cheeks reddened from embarrassment. Língxi hadn't said anything rude, yet his stoic silence had the effect of a subtle, surgical insult. Kage Ou cleared his throat, awkwardly looking away. He'd always been like this—ever since childhood, Língxi had managed to throw him off balance with little more than a look. It was like an immovable block of ice had developed a heartbeat, and still, Kage Ou found himself craving just one moment of warmth from him. Maybe, just maybe, this time Língxi would return a gesture. Maybe even a hug.
Lánhuā gave a polite, almost apologetic smile, well aware of the strange tension. Her father's behavior was often criticized even by other Daos—"too prideful," "too cold," or simply "too difficult to approach."
"N-no, of course not! Why would I mind? We're friends, after all... We could meet anytime—day or night, early morning or late evening," Kage Ou stumbled over his words, voice cracking slightly.
Realizing what he'd just said sounded like a double entendre, he flushed deeper. But Língxi showed no reaction, not even a blink.
"W-why are you just standing there? Come, let's sit and talk," Kage Ou added quickly, trying to smooth over the awkwardness. His voice was shaky, but Língxi was already used to that. He nodded silently.
They made their way to the grand seating area. The room glittered with golden ornaments, black pearls, and diamond-studded decorations. A servant placed two bottles of wine on the table.
Língxi reached for the wine but Kage Ou intercepted it, pouring the wine into their cups himself.
"Let me do it for you~ You're my guest..you're at my clan right now . " Kage Ou said with that signature smirk.
Lánhuā sat quietly, her polite smile unwavering, though her eyes occasionally darted upstairs—impatient to see Xio.
Língxi simply looked at Kage Ou. His royal blue eyes were half-lidded, lips slightly parted. The hand that had been about to take the bottle now rested quietly over the table. He didn't say anything, but his eyes spoke clearly: "I could have done that myself."
He'd been known by a nickname since childhood—Lù Yèyǐn (陆夜引)—Night's Calling. People often said his eyes could draw others in, like a cold, silent invitation into a beautiful yet dangerous abyss. And right now, those eyes made their point.
"Ah, I know, I know... But you've come to my clan. I should be the one serving you, shouldn't I? It's not anything new," Kage Ou chuckled, resting his cheek on one palm while holding his wine with the other.
Língxi sighed and finally lifted his cup. Lánhuā joined him. The three cups met with a soft clink before they drank.
"Would you mind if Lánhuā and I stayed the night? There's a task I wish to discuss with you," Língxi asked politely, voice soft and composed.
Kage Ou nearly choked on his wine. His heart skipped a beat. Was this visit planned all along?
Lánhuā looked surprised. She hadn't expected an overnight stay. Her smile widened briefly before she quickly suppressed it, lips pressed together and cheeks tinged pink.
Língxi blinked at Kage Ou, waiting.
"O-of course! Stay as long as you'd like. Make yourselves comfortable," Kage Ou replied too eagerly. He bit his lower lip, realizing he may have overreacted. He cleared his throat.
"I mean, I'm always available when you need me. We're friends... cultivator partners, so it's normal . "
"Glad to hear that," Língxi said, his smile subtle but genuine. For Kage Ou, it felt like a hard-earned reward—a balm to the unease building in his chest.
"Have you had breakfast? It's still early, and we haven't eaten either. If you agree, we can sit together. I'll call Xio too. Poor young man—he's injured from his mission. Always manages to get himself into trouble," Kage Ou said, masking his guilt with concern.
Língxi had a soft spot for children. He would accept almost anything, but not cruelty toward the young. Despite his cold exterior, he adored children and carried the grief of losing his own. It was the one pain that softened even him.
Lánhuā's eyes widened with worry upon hearing Xio was hurt. Her body instinctively tensed, aching to run to him.
"It's fine, we've—" Língxi began to decline, raising a hand.
"No no no, you've got to eat," Kage Ou interrupted eagerly. "Forbidden rituals aren't enough to sustain health."
He snapped his fingers.
"Yes, Master?" a servant asked.
"Prepare a special meal. The First and Second Grandmasters of Miè Rán Clan will be dining with us," Kage Ou ordered.
"As you wish, Master. Please allow us a moment," the servant said with a bow before leaving.
Língxi sighed. Kage Ou always won these small arguments.
Unable to hold back any longer, Lánhuā looked at her father with desperate eyes.
He turned to her. Their gaze met—light blue to royal blue. A silent conversation passed between them.
Língxi gave a gentle nod and closed his eyes briefly.
Lánhuā smiled and quickly stood. One hand gently held her robes as she rushed toward the stairs. Her boots echoed softly against the marble floor, and her robe fluttered like blue flower petals in the wind.
Kage Ou and Língxi were now alone in the hall.
Kage Ou watched Lànhuā go. His gaze Especially Língxi. Even after all these years, he still felt new—elusive, unreachable. Yet somehow, in this moment, with his best friend here and his niece rushing up the stairs, Kage Ou didn't feel like a villain anymore.
Just a man, with only one person in the world who truly mattered to him.