When the first light of morning spilled in, the room where Wei Yi had stayed finally came into full view.
The bed looked like it had survived a war—sheets rumpled, quilt kicked to the floor—all quietly testifying to what had taken place here.
Sunlight skimmed Feixiao's skin, turning it luminous. For someone who'd spent years on campaign, baptized by blood and fire, her body was still as smooth as silk—no scars, not even a hint of sun.
Credit, of course, to Wei Yi's tireless "after-care."
One reaps what one sows.
In these years, Feixiao led sortie after sortie, beating the Abundance's spawn until they scattered in panic—and Wei Yi had no small part in that. Half the credit wouldn't be an exaggeration.
In any war, logistics win.
Before his identity became public, Wei Yi hadn't cured Feixiao's lunar frenzy outright, but he'd prevented it from tormenting her—removing a crippling debuff from the undefeated Heavenly-Smite General. Assassins rely on bursts of power; they're not built for endurance. That used to be Feixiao: high offense, high defense, and a fragile HP bar—burning her own life to fuel her skills.
Her problem wasn't the strength of a single enemy but the number of them—could she finish the field before she burned herself out?
After Wei Yi, that worry vanished.
And now, after receiving Wei Yi's heart, Feixiao was frankly ridiculous.
Shattering a planet with a single strike was the sort of thing she could do on a whim. With Wei Yi's blessing, even she couldn't tell where her limits lay.
The glare reached the bed, and Wei Yi's eyes fluttered open. He felt a soft, warm body pressed tightly to him—something firm and distracting against his chest.
Feixiao's waterfall of hair fanned across the sheets, half veiling both their bodies. Last night had been… enthusiastic. They hadn't even bothered with the quilt by the end—Feixiao had launched it off the bed halfway through.
Now she lay on her side, cheek squished, lips parted, a glimmer of damp spreading where her breath fell against his chest.
Normally, if Wei Yi stirred, Feixiao would too—her perception was razor-keen, and she could read his state at once.
Not today. She was exhausted.
For a simple reason.
Wei Yi had told her the room's soundproofing had limits: Jingliu and Baiheng's rooms were to the east and north. If you don't want them to hear you, hold it in.
A heroic Heavenly-Smite General making those shamefully breathy, dangerously blissed sounds? Out of character—obviously.
And when he sensed she had a little more gas in the tank, he'd… flipped on Kaioken.
A choice moment, and very stimulating.
Shivering to the point of seeing stars while desperately covering her mouth—otherwise Changle Heaven might have echoed with a victorious war-cry.
Right before her consciousness slipped, Feixiao had decided: once this is all over, she's buying a private planet from the Company. Then she can be as loud as she wants.
Fully awake, Wei Yi eased her onto the pillow when she started to slide away, hands bracing the elegant curve of her hips. Her lashes trembled; she stirred, saw his smile, nuzzled his chest once more, then pushed herself up.
"Up. No sleeping in today," Wei Yi said, giving her a light pat on the rear—springy and satisfying under his palm.
"Mmm… no good-morning kiss?"
"These next hours aren't for lingering—and I need to pick someone up. A friend's arriving on the Xianzhou," he said, giving her another gentle pat. Feixiao understood and began dressing, unhurried.
On any other morning, he'd have started something the moment she turned her back. Today really didn't allow it.
They stepped out just as Jingliu and Baiheng opened their door.
"What are you wearing?" Wei Yi asked, eyeing Baiheng's outfit—supporter tee, rally flag, and a tiny megaphone.
"To cheer for our Jingliu! It's the Swordmaster Selection! They haven't held one for seven centuries. My girl's taking the crown. I am President of the Jingliu Support Association! Want in?" Baiheng declared. The tee featured a chibi Jingliu with black stockings and a strategic sliver of thigh.
"How many members?" Wei Yi asked.
"Currently… one! But greatness starts small."
"I'll pass. Also, Robin's performing at the opening. Even if you scream yourself hoarse, her fan legion will drown you out."
"Don't care! I want to watch my Jingliu slaughter the bracket and pick up the Swordmaster title like it's nothing! Then when someone messes with me I can go, 'You sure? My bestie is the Xianzhou Alliance's Swordmaster, Jingliu.'"
"Baiheng, today's competitors are strong. I can't guarantee victory," Jingliu said, helpless.
"Exactly. Don't be taking loans on the trophy. If you miss it, the crowd will brand you a—" Wei Yi paused, realized the slang didn't fit Jingliu, and let it go.
"Crude. Besides, anyone who dares slander the Alliance's swordsmen would be seeking death," Feixiao said—and punched Wei Yi in the arm for good measure.
"My bad." He nodded to Jingliu. She didn't mind. There were only two people she had limitless patience for: Baiheng—and Wei Yi.
"How confident are you?" he asked.
"Not much. Eighty percent," Jingliu replied, dressed in black today—her white hair, an elegant contrast.
"…That's your not much?" Wei Yi rolled his eyes. "When did you become modest?"
"The rosters are set. Across the Xianzhou, only Yaoqing's sword chief is attending; others declined or were detained. Of those present, only Suyi threatens me."
"On sword alone, Suyi might be stronger than me," Feixiao admitted.
"Which is why I'm at only eighty percent." Jingliu's real worry wasn't beating Suyi, but doing it without endangering a life. Between peers, too much of a gap invites complacency; too little, accidents.
"Let's play it by ear. March's morning practice should be over. They're nearby—let's grab them for breakfast, then we'll head to the Edge-Breaker," Wei Yi suggested.
No one objected. He was, after all, their center of gravity.
"Who's this friend you're meeting?" Baiheng asked from behind, voice bright, but there was a flicker of regret in her eyes whenever she glanced at Wei Yi and Feixiao walking hand in hand ahead.
"Hun- g… Huang Quan. After receiving Tirn's effects, she began the next leg of her journey; with no fixed destination, I invited her here to unwind," Wei Yi said plainly.
"Only to relax? You seem worried," Feixiao said softly.
"You read me too well." Wei Yi sighed. "Everyone suspects the 'real' point of this tournament. Our enemies will too. They won't let it run smoothly—yet they also know the Xianzhou is locked down. A simple frontal assault would fail. Even if they tried to revive the Ambrosial Arbor, with so many powerhouses here, Luofu would suppress it easily. But waiting quietly isn't their style. I'm afraid they'll pull something big."
The calmer the eye of the storm, the nearer the storm.
"Don't worry. You have me." Feixiao interlaced their fingers, her pulse a quick, steady beat against his.
"Not just me—there's the Marshal, and everyone on the Xianzhou. As allies, they'll stand with you."
"I'm not worried about winning. I'm worried about innocents getting hurt." After his retainers had been hunted and he'd been forced to hide in Dreamflow Reef, the scars in Wei Yi's mind ran deep.
"I know. I won't let anyone come to harm—least of all you."
"Don't get cocky. Even with my boosts, you're not invincible. This starry sea hides too many masters. We never even heard of someone like Huang Quan before we met her."
"I know," she said, but the confidence never left her eyes. "Trust me. I'll break anything that stands in your way. Because as long as I'm with you, I have endless strength and will. No matter what the enemy is—I'll cut it down."
"You're always like this," he said, chuckling. "At this rate I'll only lean on you more."
"Then lean away—on everything."
"Ugh… suddenly the air smells sour," Baiheng muttered theatrically behind them, giving Jingliu a look of pity. She'd known for ages how Jingliu felt about Wei Yi. But love, alas, had missed its timing.
"Jingliu, you—"
"I know, Baiheng. I always have," Jingliu said calmly.
"Good." Baiheng exhaled. Jingliu's poise would carry her through.
"Congratulations, March. You've graduated. The tournament starts today—we've taught you all we can."
"That's right, March. The road of the sword from here is yours alone," Yanqing and Yunli told her at the practice grounds.
"But… I still feel like there's so much I don't know," March 7th said, flustered.
"You're strong already. Yesterday you beat the Company's newest powered armor. Even I would take that seriously," Yunli smiled. And it was true—March's base was excellent. In seven days she'd surpassed many Cloud Knights who'd trained for years.
"Heh. So I'm kinda strong now? Maybe I'll go deep in the bracket," March preened, twin rapiers flashing as she twirled them.
Wei Yi arrived with the others. "Our little sword saint learned quite a bit," he teased. He'd checked in between meetings with Robin, and he'd slipped March a few restorative pills so yesterday's grind wouldn't wreck today.
"Doctor! Watch me carve up the stage!" March chirped. Then she clocked the white-haired woman beside him. "Oh! You're a swordswoman too, right?"
Jingliu nodded once.
"Great! You must be competing. Maybe we'll fight!" March beamed—completely oblivious to the way Yanqing and Yunli's faces tightened behind her.
"I look forward to it," Jingliu said with a small smile.
"Why are you two laughing?" March asked, catching Feixiao and Wei Yi smirking.
"Just thought of something happy."
"Same," Feixiao added.
"The same thing?"
"We're married. That happens," Wei Yi said solemnly.
"True!" March nodded, none the wiser.
"Time's tight. Feixiao and I are off to meet a friend. You all eat without us," Wei Yi said, waving as they left.
"March really doesn't know Jingliu… come to think of it, the Astral Express never actually met her," Feixiao snorted once they were out of earshot.
"Let's let the host announcement do the reveal. Her face will be priceless," Wei Yi grinned. In the game, players had joked they'd "marry" Jingliu sight unseen—meeting was the last step.
"Doctor—fancy meeting you here! Did you predict I'd arrive and come to greet me? A bit much, no?" a familiar voice called.
Li Zhenran.
"You didn't register for the tourney, did you? Shame," Wei Yi said, shaking his head. Since healing his congenital flaw and sloughing off his burdens, Li Zhenran's strength had skyrocketed—now on par with Yunli and Yanqing. But he didn't care for fame.
"I'm here to show Aisia around. She loves big events," Li said, hand in hand with the girl. Wei Yi noted the neatly trimmed, buffed fingernails—no snags.
He'd learned the same habit after marrying Feixiao. Girls were tender—even Heavenly-Smite Generals had places to protect.
"We'll let you two go. We're catching the opening too—Aisia adores Robin," Li added, waving them off.
"They look about ready to settle," Feixiao murmured with an auntie's smile as they left.
"Mm. That kid's never dated—completely smitten. It helps that Aisia's a good one," Wei Yi said. A girl who used all her savings to buy her boyfriend a brand-new haptic game pod for his birthday—and then wrapped herself as the bonus? Irresistible.
After some talk of old rescues and close calls, they reached the Jade Gate again.
Two tall silhouettes approached together: Black Swan and Huang Quan.
"Together?" Wei Yi arched a brow.
"Met on the road. I ran into a spot of trouble; this beautiful ranger saved me," Black Swan said, winking.
"Only lent a hand," Huang Quan replied.
"What happened?" Wei Yi asked Black Swan.
"Nothing much. A few Memory Incinerators fancied my collection and tried to burn it. I declined. There were… disagreements," she said lightly, glancing at Huang Quan.
"I got lost, found a familiar face, asked her to guide me. They didn't want her to leave," Huang Quan said, deadpan.
"And then?"
"I cut them all down."
"Sounds like you," Wei Yi said, trying not to laugh. Incinerators were nasty—many had converted their bodies into memetic forms. Unfortunately for them, Void never cares about your tricks. Huang Quan's blade bites everything.
"Pity we're not in Penacony. I'd ask you for another dance," Black Swan murmured, fanning a card.
"Come with us to the opening?" Wei Yi invited.
"No." Huang Quan shook her head. "Let this be a brief rest along my journey. I'll sample the Xianzhou's ways quietly."
"That's fine," he nodded. He'd invited her for two reasons: to relax—Void's self-destroying path makes mental health paramount—and as insurance. If someone like Phantylia rolled in with an entourage of Destruction lords, Huang Quan would be the hidden dagger.
"Later, then," Feixiao said with a respectful nod. They parted—Wei Yi reminding Black Swan to keep an eye on Huang Quan so she didn't get lost.
Huang Quan's sense of direction was… Void-touched. She'd once told Wei Yi she'd been searching for her phone for an hour—while holding it and reading the time off it.
Soon, Wei Yi and Feixiao arrived at the Edge-Breaker. The stands were filling fast, the arena floor a sea of heads and rippling flags. Vendors threaded the aisles with rattling carts. The roar hadn't even peaked yet—and the place already throbbed.
Most eye-catching was a block of diehards waving a banner: ROBIN SUPPORT SQUAD. More than a few wore pain-shirts emblazoned: I'm Robin's dog!
"You seem cheerful," Wei Yi said to Jing Yuan in the VIP box, catching his smile.
"Ran into Yingxing—Blade—this morning. He's well. He even smiled at me. Baiheng's return must have eased him," Jing Yuan said. In the game's timeline, Jingliu and Blade's feud would have devastated him. Wei Yi's interventions had saved them from that.
"Thank you, Doctor. Without your cures and your work, we might have met on the battlefield," Jing Yuan said frankly.
"Just did what I could," Wei Yi waved it off.
The host strode out—a snow-owl-headed automaton named Jimi—and launched into a slick, practiced opener. With the Company's help, the logistics were tight. Project lead? Karadina—Aventurine's sister—whom Wei Yi had pulled back from the brink. She'd handled the joint venture flawlessly.
After a short kung fu showcase and a stirring "A Laugh From the Vast Sea," it was time: Robin took the stage. Instead of her usual gown, she wore flowing Xianzhou robes—sleeves like clouds—wearing the local style with starborn poise.
"Robin! Robin! Robin!" the arena thundered, and her voice lifted, airy and free: "The mortal world is laughable, obsession most of all…"
"Why aren't you dancing? Take this glow stick—show Robin how hot her fans are!" a head-banded superfan shoved two light wands into Sunday's hands down in the pit.
At first he was stiff—but the tide swept him along. He loosened, grinning, waving in time.
Robin caught him at the edge of her vision and smiled—a quick, private encouragement. Walk on, brother. Step by step through the world. One day, your ideal will be real.
"Is that Sunday? So that's where he's been," March whispered from the contestants' pen, baffled to see the imposing executive bouncing like a fanboy.
"Fits, actually," Welt murmured. "He's made peace with both faces—Sunday and Van-wit. A person can be both. Few are born to stand above all. After the shackles fall, the true self emerges."
"Seen someone like that before, Uncle Welt?" March tilted her head.
"Yes," he said simply. "Monstrous evil—yet capable, for selfish reasons, of saving millions." His eyes were complicated. "We are contradictions."
"Lu— Luca, ready?" Stelle elbowed their friend. He looked pale.
"I'll win," Luca lied, nerves taut. He carried Belobog's hopes—and pressure frayed his edges. Hallucinations nipped at the corners of his vision.
"Liar," Stelle said cheerfully, producing a jade bottle. "Good thing the great Stelle foresaw this and borrowed a miracle from the Doctor! One pill, cure-all!"
"Cure-all, live forever? That's a scam," Luca said—but he took it.
"This would sell for enough to buy Belobog," Stelle said. "Brewed by a very big deal."
"How big?"
"Remember Topaz? Even her boss would be cut loose if they crossed him—Company would disavow in a heartbeat." Luca stared at the pill, aghast.
"I can't accept—"
"Take it. It's for you. And the Doctor spoils us—if I pout, she hands them out like candy," Stelle said proudly.
He swallowed. Warmth flooded his limbs; the static in his head smoothed to silence; old fighting injuries knit. He shadow-boxed—his fists ripped the air.
"…Strong," he breathed.
"Believe it. That's you," Stelle grinned.
Down below, Jimi's voice rose: "What you've really come for—the Swordmaster Selection! The title has stood vacant for centuries. Today, the Alliance's finest draw their blades! First pair, take the field!"
White hair, simple travel clothes—Jingliu. Opposite, a Honkai-blessed swordsman of the Vidyadhara—Longhui—swaggering, disdainful.
"Longhui: a prodigy among the Vidyadhara. Seven centuries ago, he crossed swords with Luofu's then–Cloud Knights sword chief and lost by a hair. He's returned to claim what was denied!" Jimi boomed. "And… Jingliu—former Cloud Knights sword chief, back to compete for the crown! Old rivals, reunited!"
"It's you! Seven hundred years ago you stole my place! Today I take it back—and the Swordmaster's seat with it!" Longhui shouted.
Jingliu blinked once. Longhui… who?
"Annoying," she said at last.
Longhui snapped—lunged. Jimi kept up a breathless patter: "Longhui opens! What sword light! How will Jingliu respond? Wait—she doesn't move—has Longhui's strike reached the absolute? Has the former chief been frozen in place? Jingliu is in danger—Jingliu—wins in one move! Unbelievable! Experience prevails!"
Jingliu sheathed. Longhui didn't rise.
"And now—Yaoqing's sword chief, Suyi!" Jimi cried. Suyi entered, bowed, and felled her opponent in a single stroke.
Jimi's commentary was a riot—"Jingliu is in danger—now accepts the trophy!" had the stands in stitches.
March, however, wasn't laughing. "Did I mishear? That nice lady from this morning is… Luofu's former sword chief?"
"Correct," Stelle said.
"I… challenged her to a duel," March whispered. "I'd die. I would actually die."
"Relax. She won't take it seriously," Stelle soothed.
Day One ended in thunderous cheers. Every entrant was a monster; the matches were gorgeous. Luca upset a favorite and stole hearts—nothing the crowd loves more than punching up.
Another crowd darling emerged: the Pure Beauty Knight, Argenti. He began every bout with, "Do you acknowledge that Idrila's beauty is peerless?" One brute guffawed and mouthed off.
There was no after.
Argenti wasn't gentle. His strength was terrifying.
Three days passed. No incidents. No attacks.
Which should have been good news. But the longer the lull, the bigger the bang.
....
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