The days that followed passed beneath a weary sun.
The forest thinned as they journeyed eastward, giving way to winding trails and grasslands streaked with pale mist. The morning dew clung to their boots, and the scent of pine faded into the dry, earthy fragrance of distant hills. Yet despite the gentler terrain, their progress was slow.
Li Tianlan, for all his determination, was still a mortal. His steps faltered as the hours dragged on, his breath growing ragged beneath the weight of his pack. Every incline burned through his legs, and every stone-cut path left his soles aching.
Mingyue never complained — she merely slowed her pace to match his, though he noticed the faint impatience that sometimes flickered in her eyes when she thought he wasn't looking. Her gait remained smooth, her posture unbending, but there was a certain stillness to her movements — the calm of one who was suppressing the desire to move faster.
And then there was the little fox — the fiery creature padding silently at their side, its fur glimmering faintly with red-gold light.
At first glance, she seemed like nothing more than a small spirit beast, her fluffy tail swaying lazily as she walked. But within those amber eyes hid the intelligence of one who had once touched the heavens themselves.
When they paused at dusk one evening, Tianlan collapsed beside the campfire, gasping.
He tried to hide his exhaustion, but Mingyue noticed. Without a word, she set a small pot of herbs to boil and glanced his way.
"You're overexerting yourself," she said quietly. "Your body isn't used to channeling qi, even passively. Rest."
He gave a faint, sheepish smile. "You make it sound so easy."
"It will never be easy," she replied, stirring the pot. "But persistence is a form of strength, too."
Her tone was almost gentle — or perhaps it only felt that way because it was the first warmth she had shown him since the battle in the forest.
The little fox, curled beside the fire, opened one eye lazily. Persistent, yes… but fragile, she thought silently. Her gaze lingered on the boy — the faint thread of mortal life pulsing within him. And yet… someone watches this one. Someone powerful.
She turned her head slightly, ears twitching.
There — in the faint rustle beyond the trees — the presence again.
It never drew close enough to reveal itself, never interfered, yet it was always there, like a shadow walking just behind the horizon. Watching. Waiting.
But its focus was not on Mingyue, nor on her.
It was on Li Tianlan.
The fox's fur bristled faintly. Whoever it was, their cultivation far exceeded her own — even at her peak. Now, weakened and bound to this small form, she could do nothing but feign ignorance.
She sighed inwardly. If danger comes, I can only use my essence once more… but then… there will be nothing left of me.
Her gaze softened as she looked at Tianlan again. Perhaps it was pity. Perhaps guilt.
If he were my disciple, she thought faintly, at least he would not walk blindly into death.
Their days became a rhythm — travel, battle, rest.
For though Mingyue dealt with every beast that crossed their path with effortless grace, the forest and plains beyond Yunhe were far from peaceful. Packs of lesser spirit beasts prowled the shadows, drawn to the faint traces of qi that lingered around her.
Each encounter was swift — a blur of silver and moonlight.
To Tianlan, it was both breathtaking and humbling. He had begun to count the battles — not in victories, but in lessons. The way she moved, the way she read the flow of qi before a strike, the way her breathing never faltered — it all became part of a silent scripture he was determined to learn.
Still, every evening he would collapse by the fire, muscles trembling. His body had yet to adapt, and Mingyue's progress slowed because of it. Yet not once did she leave him behind.
Perhaps, she thought, there was something in his persistence that reminded her of a time before coldness had taken root in her heart.
As the twilight deepened one night, the fox lay near the fire, pretending to sleep while her mind wandered.
Her thoughts drifted to Mingyue.
The girl's qi — though restrained — was unmistakably special. It carried the crystalline sharpness of ice essence, refined and pure. But more than that, beneath the calm surface, the fox could sense something sealed — a dormant power cloaked by a treasure meant to hide her true physique.
Ice… and moonlight, the fox mused. Such a combination does not occur by chance.
If she still possessed her cultivation, she might have revealed her curiosity — even taken the girl as her disciple. But that time had long passed.
She remembered the storm of lightning that had marked her failure — the shattering of her tribulation, the fall from grace. The years that followed as a wandering spirit fox, too weak to return to her true form, too proud to die.
Three years of silence. Three years of regret.
Now she followed two mortals — one veiled in mystery, the other burning with impossible resolve — and wondered if fate mocked her or offered her a chance at redemption.
Mingyue's voice broke the quiet.
"We'll reach Yunhe Town within five days. Beyond that lies the border of the Cloudveil Mountains."
Li Tianlan nodded, still catching his breath. "And… that's where you'll continue your journey?"
She glanced at him, expression unreadable. "That's where I'll decide what comes next."
While they discussed their future, the little fox lifted her head, her tails flicking thoughtfully. This mortal… his spiritual root is mediocre at best, she mused. But kindness and heart — those are rarer than talent.
For a long moment, she simply watched him. The boy's hands were calloused, his breath uneven, yet his gaze burned with quiet resolve even as exhaustion pressed him down.
Perhaps… she thought slowly, I should test him first. See if that resolve holds when faced with true despair.
The flames crackled softly, their light flickering over her fur.
Yet as the fire danced, the fox could not shake the feeling — that unseen gaze pressing faintly upon them.
She turned toward the dark horizon, heart heavy.
Who are you… and what do you want with him?
The pace of mortals is slow, yet every step marks the shaping of will.
Patience, fear, and curiosity intertwine beneath the watchful stars.
The fox hesitates at the edge of choice.
The cultivator hides more than her silence reveals.
And the boy — though weak — walks beneath a gaze older than any of them know.