The next morning, Lau Rhen awoke before the alarm.
He stared at the pale ceiling of his room for a few seconds, listening to the faint hum of the refrigerator downstairs and the distant sound of a motorbike passing by outside.
It was quiet… too quiet for a city morning.
He sat up, rubbing his temples. The faint residue of last night's qi manipulation still lingered in his meridians like faint static in the air. The human-shaped silhouette of the monster he had killed replayed in his mind—how it screamed without a mouth, how it bled without flesh.
A knock came on his door.
Too light for Dad, too hesitant for Mom…
"Rhen, breakfast." His mother's voice. Calm, neutral—almost practiced.
He muttered a noncommittal "Yeah," then stood, splashing water over his face. In the mirror, his eyes looked sharper than usual. Not tired—just… watchful.
School that day felt mechanical. People moved in predictable patterns, voices blurring into background noise. Xao Xao wasn't in the classroom yet. He took his seat, leaned back, and let his gaze wander.
When she finally entered, conversations in the room shifted instantly—half whispers, half stolen glances. Her presence had that effect, whether she wanted it or not. She didn't look at anyone, didn't smile. Just walked to her desk.
Except… that desk was no longer hers.
"Class," the teacher announced, adjusting her glasses. "We're starting a new section rotation. Everyone, please move to your assigned seats as listed on the board."
Lau Rhen's eyes flicked to the list. And there it was—her name next to his.
A quiet ripple of surprise moved through the room.
She walked over, setting her bag down beside him without meeting his gaze. He said nothing.
It wasn't until halfway through the lesson that Xao Xao finally spoke, voice low enough that only he could hear.
"You don't seem surprised."
"Should I be?" he replied, still taking notes.
Most people would have stumbled at his coldness. She didn't. "Everyone's staring. They think I planned this."
"You didn't?"
"No." Her pen tapped against the page in a slow rhythm. "And I don't care what they think."
Lunch break came, and Lau Rhen noticed her ignoring the usual group of friends that expected her at their table. Instead, she walked straight past the cafeteria, through the back corridors of the school.
Strange…
He followed at a distance, careful not to be seen.
The hall grew quieter the further they went, until the faint smell of dust and paper told him they'd reached the old storage section. He slowed his steps, listening.
Through the half-open door, he saw her disappear inside.
He slipped in after her, staying behind a stack of old bookshelves.
They weren't alone.
A group of students stood in a dimly lit corner.
The tallest, a sharp-eyed boy with neatly tied hair, spoke first. "We meet again, Xao Xao." His tone carried authority far beyond his age. Lau Rhen recognized the title whispered in their conversation: Fourth Clan Elder. His name, he later learned, was Li Shen.
Beside him stood a girl with an almost ethereal presence—pale skin, hair like black silk. Her name was Zhang Mei, a known genius in the Foundation Establishment stage, and a scholar of the Off World.
Others in the group were no less intimidating—disciples, young prodigies, and influential figures tied to the Sect. Their qi leaked subtly into the air, each presence distinct.
They spoke of the Watcher.
Li Shen's voice lowered. "Some of us can see it. Not because we want to—but because our connection to the Off World leaves us exposed. Sometimes… a sudden awakening in someone disrupts the balance of both worlds. They wield dao and qi without discipline. That… attracts them."
Those words struck Lau Rhen harder than he expected.
His gaze flicked toward the far wall—and froze.
A Watcher was there.
Its tall, warped frame stood utterly still, its head tilting in slow, unnatural increments. No one else seemed to notice.
And in that moment, Lau Rhen's calculations began to align. A human… no, something human in nature, was controlling these things. That would explain their restraint. Their purpose wasn't to kill—at least not yet.
When the meeting ended, Lau Rhen walked beside one of the group's younger members, a boy named Chen Yao. He forced himself to act casually, masking the subtle tension in his voice as he asked about harmless topics.
Chen Yao seemed friendly enough but offered nothing useful—until they passed through a narrow street on the way home.
The Watchers were there again. Several this time, standing at a distance, unmoving.
They didn't attack.
Later, in a small café, Chen Yao showed him a video on his phone.
People disappearing. Flames conjured from bare hands. Shadows moving with intent.
Lau Rhen stored every detail in memory before heading home.
That night, his parents tried to talk about the divorce again.
He cut them off gently. "I'm fine. Really."
They didn't believe him, but they didn't push.
In his room, Lau Rhen sat cross-legged. A slow breath in, qi flowing through his meridians, forming the precise pattern of a consciousness transfer.
The Off World answered his call.
***
The moon over the City looked fractured that night, as though some unseen force had taken a hammer to its silver surface and left a web of cracks. The pale light filtering through the clouds was dimmer than usual, weaker… and somehow wrong.
Lau Rhen leaned against the balustrade of the sect's upper courtyard, his fingers drumming absently on the carved wood. He wasn't looking at the moon—he was listening. The wind carried things when you knew how to hear them: the faint hum of distant talismans, the quickened breath of disciples patrolling nearby, and… something else. A deeper pulse. Like the beat of a slow, immense heart.
Xao Xao emerged from the shadows behind him. She didn't bother to announce herself—he'd already felt her qi signature long before she came close.
"You're not sleeping," she said.
"Neither are you," he replied without turning.
"I had a feeling you'd be here," she said, stepping up beside him. "Moon's strange tonight."
"It's not the moon," Rhen murmured. "It's the qi currents. They're… bending."
"Bending?"
He glanced at her. "Like a river forced to change course. And I think something's damming the flow."
Below them, the city's streets twisted like veins beneath the dark, lit only by the glow of paper lanterns swaying in the breeze. But at the far end—where the Lotus District met the old stone wall—there was a pocket of darkness so deep it seemed to swallow the lantern light entirely.
Xao Xao followed his gaze. "That's new."
"It started three nights ago," Rhen said. "Small at first. Barely noticeable. But every night it's spread further. Now, I can feel it here."
She frowned. "That's too fast. Qi corruption doesn't spread like that unless someone's feeding it directly."
"My thought exactly," Rhen said, his tone sharp.
They stood in silence for a moment, listening to the faint rustle of bamboo leaves and the distant clang of the night watchman's gong. Then Xao Xao broke the stillness.
"Do you think it's the Watchers?"
Rhen shook his head. "No. The Watchers leave chaos. This… is precision. Like a blade carving a pattern."
"Which means it's someone with control."
"And purpose."
Footsteps approached from behind—light, measured, deliberate. Both of them turned.
A young disciple bowed, her eyes darting nervously between them. "Senior Lau, Senior Xao… Elder Jin requests your presence in the Moonlit Hall. Immediately."
Xao Xao's brows knit. "At this hour?"
"Yes, Senior," the girl said. "He said it concerns… an incident at the Lotus Pool."
The moment the words left her lips, Rhen and Xao Xao exchanged a look. The Lotus Pool was sacred ground for the Sect. If something had happened there… it wasn't small.
They followed the disciple through the winding corridors of the compound. The halls were lit only by sparse lanterns, their flames guttering in the draft. Rhen could feel it now—the slow, deliberate pulse he'd sensed earlier was stronger, closer.
When they entered the Moonlit Hall, Elder Jin was already there, standing before the great window that framed the fractured moon. His long hair was tied back neatly, and his robe sleeves hung still despite the breeze from the open window.
"Elder," Rhen greeted.
"You've felt it too," Elder Jin said without turning.
"Yes," Rhen replied. "The qi currents are being altered."
"Not altered," Jin said, finally turning to face them. "Redirected." His eyes were hard. "The Lotus Pool has become the epicenter. And tonight, it… awakened."
Xao Xao stepped forward. "Awakened? How?"
"There was movement in the water. Shapes that should not exist in this realm. One of our warding arrays failed."
"That shouldn't be possible," Rhen said. "The pool's protections are woven into the sect's foundation. You'd have to—"
"—fracture the moonstone at the heart of the array," Jin finished for him. "Which someone has done."
A silence stretched between them. Rhen's mind was already racing. The moonstone was hidden deep beneath the water. No ordinary disciple could reach it without being torn apart by the defensive wards.
Which meant…
"It's someone from inside," Rhen said flatly.
Elder Jin's expression didn't change, but his silence was enough confirmation.
"I called you both," Jin said, "because I believe this is linked to the disturbances in the Lotus District. And because I trust you will handle it… discreetly."
Xao Xao's lips curved faintly. "Discreet isn't exactly what we're known for."
"This time," Jin said, "it must be."
When they left the hall, the fractured moon was higher in the sky, its broken light spilling across the Lotus Pool in the distance.
"You know," Xao Xao said quietly, "when Elder Jin says 'discreet,' what he means is 'don't get caught.'"
Rhen smirked faintly. "Good thing we're both good at that."
But inside, his mind was already forming a map of possibilities. Whoever had done this wasn't just meddling with the sect's sacred grounds—they were manipulating the city's qi flows themselves. And that kind of power… was never harmless.