Chapter 4 — Warm Hearth, Quiet Secrets
Cloud Veil Mountain lay wounded.
Boulders were cracked open like eggshells, smoke curled from scorched roots, and the air carried the sharp scent of lightning-burnt wood.
Where gentle mist once drifted, thin streaks of steam now rose from blackened soil.
Long Tan moved silently through the wreckage, steps steady despite the pain in his shoulder.
In the distance, frightened outer-mountain cultivators peeked from behind rocks and tree stumps.
Some crouched beneath dripping ledges, clutching crude talismans, praying the sky would not strike again.
Others crawled among the ashes, desperately plucking half-burnt herbs before the spiritual essence leaked away.
They didn't notice him — his Qi was hidden as deep as his secrets.
The heavens punished this mountain today, he thought, eyes calmly scanning the ruined slopes.
Yet they left me alive.
When he reached the foot of the mountain, the fog thinned.
The small clay houses of the outer settlement came into view, lanterns glowing warm against the wet dusk.
And there, standing at the gate, Su Lan.
Her hands were clenched around her apron, knuckles white.
When her eyes found him, relief flashed across her face — then anger, then worry again.
> "You…!" Her voice trembled. "I thought—you were so late—the storm—"
He raised a hand gently.
> "Just minor injuries. Slipped on wet stone. Nothing dangerous."
A lie soft enough to protect her heart.
Su Lan touched his bandaged arm, brows knitting.
> "Even so… come inside. Rest."
He followed her into their small home.
The familiar warmth inside eased the chill from his bones.
A single oil lamp flickered, casting soft shadows that felt like safety.
---
Home's Quiet Comfort
Su Lan fetched hot water and cloth, rechecking his wound despite his calm expression.
He let her fuss over him.
There was a peace in her gentle touch he had never known in his first life.
> "I was scared," she whispered, tying the bandage. "The thunder sounded so close."
He met her gaze, voice steady and warm.
> "I promised I would return."
She looked down, breath shivering just once — then nodded.
He bathed, warm water washing mud and smoke from his skin.
The exhaustion in his bones loosened, though the faint pulse of the wine gourd still beat softly in his dantian, a secret warmth in the dark.
After washing, he hung his damp clothes and went to work.
A cultivator did not waste a beast.
He unwrapped the Steel-Claw Ape carcass, sharp knife glinting.
Years of hunting had made his hands steady, efficient.
He separated meat from bone, claws from tendon, hide from flesh — clean cuts, neat piles.
The claws and hide he kept — for future forging or bartering.
Bones and unwanted parts wrapped tight for trade tomorrow.
Su Lan swept quietly nearby, the sound of straw broom against wood soothing after the storm.
When the meat was stored and the tools cleaned, he finally sat.
Only then did he dare to close his eyes and look inward.
---
The Gourd's Mystery
The bronze gourd floated in his dantian, ordinary on the outside, fate-changing within.
He willed his consciousness inside.
A small inner space opened before him —
mist-filled, quiet, holding one faint clear pool.
He uncorked his physical wine jug and poured a little inside the gourd.
The liquid vanished instantly.
> "So it truly stores wine…" he murmured.
Then he turned his focus to the second tiny chamber —
the one that held a droplet of Spirit Spring Water.
Clear as crystal.
Pure as winter dew.
He took a mental sip — a drop flowed into his mouth in the real world.
Warmth rose in his chest.
Qi stirred faintly… then stilled.
Nothing changed.
He frowned slightly.
> "Too little?"
He took a bigger sip — half of the tiny pool.
Warmth again.
A faint trembling in his meridians… then quiet.
Still nothing.
A breath escaped him, almost a laugh, almost a sigh.
> "Don't tell me it's a fake treasure…"
But then he paused.
No… I am not stuck at a bottleneck.
I am stuck because I never had pills or proper wine to break through.
He touched the wooden table, expression calm once more.
> "Perhaps it only works when truly at a breakthrough wall."
He leaned back, shoulders relaxing.
> "Even so… a storage treasure is already heaven's blessing."
And then a thought struck him — quiet, hopeful, dangerous:
Years ago… I hid a jar of aged spirit wine under the old pine behind our hut.
Perhaps its time has come.
A faint smile touched his lips.
---
Dinner and Moonlight
By nightfall, Su Lan had cooked.
Simple food — rice, greens, and slices of ape meat sizzling with herbs.
Warm steam, earthy fragrance, gentle clinking of bowls.
They ate together quietly.
Sometimes words were unnecessary.
After dinner, they stepped outside.
Clouds drifted slowly, the moon cutting through them like a silver blade through silk.
Su Lan leaned lightly on his shoulder.
He rested his hand over hers.
Two ordinary souls in a quiet corner of the world —
holding warmth against the cold vast sky,
unaware of how heaven had already marked their path.
Tonight, peace.
Tomorrow, cultivation and fate.
And somewhere beneath the earth near their home,
old wine waited for a man who refused to bow to destiny.