SU HAO's heart was lodged in his throat.
Darkness plagued his long walk home from the mountains of Taiwei.
He repressed the emotions in chest, stuffing the suffocating feeling down. The dull throb and bone-deep burn were so fierce, he half forgot how to breathe. He staggered forwards, vision swimming, hyperventilating. Pins and needles crawled from numb limbs up to his brows.
Tonight, the air of Taiwei wrapped around him was different, not the kind, rejuvenating dew mist that granted him hope day after day.
Had the Heavens truly given up on him?
Su Hao's brows creased, eyes spluttering open. They were a cold pair of eyes, deep-set, hunter-shaped. They fell thinly, touched with a flicker of murderous intent that gave them a fierce glint.
"Are you forcing me to give up?" he asked, voice flat with aloof disbelief.
He'd never worshipped the decree of Heaven. Perhaps he was naive, believing that those who abided the Moral Ways and worked against the Sun would be rewarded. Perhaps it was because he didn't believe enough in his early days that he ended up like this.
It was the final hour before Spring's First Breath. A week had passed since the Grand Secretaries formally exiled him from the Taiwei Astral Court. Once, being accepted as an Outer Retainer had been a dream, after the annual beast tide at Winter's Door left him orphaned.
Ten years since then. Ten years of dedicated cultivation, of being the sect handyman, as cannon-fodder for spars, and he still sat at the second layer of the Qi Refining realm. His meridians narrowed year by year before the star embroidered on his robe faded to nothing.
He'd entered Taiwei at fourteen. Ten years later, all he had was age.
Su Hao let out a cold chuckle that frosted the air. He'd been hopeful the day before, melancholic yesterday, and bitter to the marrow today. He didn't want to step into spring bearing a grudge against the Heavens, but what choices had they left him?
He lived now in a small house on the outskirts of the villages where he'd been found, down the Taiwei Mountains. The villages were under the jurisdiction of a small but fair kingdom where stipends were decent. Mortals—commoners like him—lived quite happily around there, as they should.
He couldn't. He wouldn't forget this.
"Ten years," Su Hao muttered, pushing the door open. "What have I achieved? What have I—?"
His words cut short. A child stood behind his door. A little girl, the splitting image of him, with those same sharp eyes.
"—you?"
The little girl didn't flinch. She stood on the reed mat with her back trembling, both hands curled into a ball of fists. A faint glare touched him, gone as quickly as it came.
"Dad," she said. Her voice was soft, clipped, precise. "I found you."
The word snagged. Su Hao stared. The aches and bone-burn hissed to a new extreme under her piercing gaze.
"Who are you?"
"Xu Anxue." She tilted her chin, studying him as if unsure how to treat him. "I am six years old."
He was twenty-four this year. Six years ago, coincidentally, he was of legal age and saved a wandering female cultivator from a wretched poison. They had spent a night together before she vanished without name or trace.
Six years later, she again wandered like the wind, disappearing without a word—this time only leaving him with their daughter born out of wedlock… if the little thing in front of him was even hers.
Who was she? His daughter or not? What was her purpose? What exactly was he supposed to do with this little thing?
Su Hao didn't know what to do. He only ever wanted to cultivate. He only ever knew how to cultivate. He knew nothing about raising a child.
"You must be mistaken. I'm not your Dad," he said, pointing his thumb out the door. "There should be some kind-hearted cultivators in the village square willing to take you."
Su Hao saw the little thing widen her eyes. The headache he'd been fighting spiked into a migraine at her expression. She stood frozen, mouth hung wide, face scrunched with disbelief.
"I'm not your Dad," he repeated, more firmly. "Can we… excuse ourselves?"
The little thing didn't budge.
Su Hao gritted his teeth and stepped inside. He wasn't the type to shirk on responsibilities, but… he couldn't be sure that this little thing was his, could he?
His hand reached forwards to grab her by the scruff and drag her out. The moment they touched, a piercing electric shock lanced through him.
The little thing flinched, shrinking backwards, eyes watering. She'd stood and addressed him confidently before; he hadn't thought she'd cry so easily.
Was she really his daughter? Was that why those tears were bubbling?
Su Hao lifted his hand and, with a begrudging hum, squatted down to meet her lowered head.
"You little thing, you really do look like me. Damn that."
The ventricles of his heart fought itself. One half pitied the little thing; an absent mother and father was no worse than being orphaned. The other half was ready to curse the little thing—her presence felt like the Heavens ordering him to be a caregiver, to live a normal life.
Jaw tight, he caught her chin hard and raised her face, startling her, gazing into the reflection of his own eyes.
"On the merit that you look similar to me, I'll take you in. But understand that I'm no Dad of yours."
Something rang in the air. A silent, cold string plucked in his skull, disregarding all his concerns about speaking too harshly.
[Ding! Awakening conditions met]
[Feedback System is online]
[Searching for a suitable binding partner…. 17%... 39%... 98%... 100%]
[Suitable partner found]
[Host: Su Hao]
[Bound to: Xu Anxue (biological daughter)]
[A new way to cultivate is now underway]
[You will receive double the feedback from the growth of her cultivation, the resources she consumes, and the opportunities she obtains]
With every word, he ignored more of the pain that pinched her features. His fingers tightened beneath her chin.