Witnessing the scene unfold before him, Yun Qingjue felt his lips curve upward involuntarily.
A smile broke across his face—part amusement, part wonder, wholly curious.
His eyes gleamed with understanding as pieces of an invisible puzzle began falling into place.
"Dijun," he ventured, his tone lighter, tinged with cautious hope, "you didn't get hurt. Does that mean you finally healed?"
His Dijun's hand stilled on the blanket.
For a moment, he remained perfectly motionless, frozen in contemplation.
His gaze lingered on Yu Xiao's face—tracing the delicate line of her jaw, the soft rise and fall of her breathing.
"I'm not certain," he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
There was something vulnerable in those words, a rare crack in his impenetrable armor.
His thumb brushed unconsciously against the edge of the blanket, a small, absent gesture that betrayed far more than he likely intended.
Then his eyes darkened with resolve. His jaw set as he spoke again, his voice carrying unwavering conviction.
"But I want her to stay."
The words hung in the air between them—heavy with implication, thick with unspoken meaning.
Not a casual statement.
A declaration, a claim, a decision that would set everything in motion.
Yun Qingjue's smile widened.
He understood now, perhaps more clearly than his Dijun realized.
He could feel the dense spiritual energy coiling through the underground den, thick and ancient in this sealed chamber.
The qi flows differently here, he thought absently.
"Qingjue, keep an eye on her. Don't let her leave when she wakes."
Without hesitation, Yun Qingjue pressed his fist to his palm and bowed deeply.
"Yes, Dijun."
After receiving his confirmation, his Dijun turned and departed, leaving him alone with the sleeping woman.
Yun Qingjue straightened, his expression settling into something colder, more analytical as he studied Yu Xiao's peaceful face.
Questions circled through his mind like restless spirits, refusing to settle.
"The world is vast, yet our paths converge as though drawn by a single thread. You, Yu Xiao, are no ordinary mortal. First, it was Xue Wuya who saved you from certain death. Then I became the second. And if I hadn't appeared that day, you never would have crossed paths with Dijun—never would have been carried here in his arms, sheltered beneath his protection. How fortunate you are."
He took a slow breath, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully.
"But it's more than fortune, isn't it? Dijun didn't simply save you—he's keeping you here, shielding you from whatever danger lurks beyond these walls. Now I understand what Xue Wuya meant when he spoke of you recently."
His words echo clearer now.
Yun Qingjue's lips curved into a knowing smile, though his eyes remained sharp and watchful.
"You truly are a precious jewel. Now, Dijun wants you to stay here. When you wake up, would you consider his plea?"
Time, however, did not stop.
Day surrendered to the deepest hours of night.
Who thought that Yu Xiao was resting peacefully?
No.
Clearly not.
Amidst her rest, the recent incident invaded her mind, twisting her dreams into nightmares.
Without warning, she jolted awake, her heart hammering violently against her ribs.
Her eyes flew open, wide and unfocused, staring at the ceiling above as she gasped for air. Her hands shot out instinctively, fingers clutching the edge of the blanket with desperate strength, knuckles white from the grip.
Cold sweat beaded at her temples, trickling down the sides of her face.
For a long moment, she remained frozen—body rigid, chest heaving with shallow, rapid breaths. Her lips parted slightly as she struggled to separate dream from reality, the phantom terror still clinging to her consciousness.
Tears welled in her eyes, blurring her vision, threatening to spill over.
She looked like a fish pulled from water, gasping helplessly, caught between two worlds—the nightmare she'd escaped and the waking world she couldn't yet fully grasp.
A voice cut through her panicked state—familiar, calm, drifting from beyond the chamber curtain.
"You're awake."
Yu Xiao's head snapped toward the sound, her gaze fixing on the hanging curtain that separated her from the speaker.
Slowly, she pushed herself upright, muscles trembling from the lingering adrenaline.
She sat rigid, waiting, as the measured echo of footsteps approached—each one deliberate, unhurried, growing louder with every passing second.
The curtain swept aside in one fluid, dramatic motion, revealing the silhouette of a man framed in the doorway.
Even through the dim lighting of the chamber, she recognized something familiar about him—the posture, the presence.
"Shall I go in, Lady Yu?"
Lady Yu?
Her breath caught.
How does he know my name?
The thought struck her like a blow.
Her eyes strained through the shadows, trying to make out his features, but the darkness rendered his face unclear—only the outline of his form visible against the faint glow from beyond the curtain.
"Don't be afraid. I won't harm you."
His voice was gentle, reassuring, yet it did little to calm the storm of questions swirling in her mind.
She swallowed hard, her throat dry, and managed only the smallest of nods. Her voice came out weak, barely audible—a soft, uncertain sound.
"Hmn…"
The man walked in silently, arms folded across his chest.
His movements were measured, deliberate, carrying an air of composed authority.
As he stepped closer, the faint light from beyond the curtain illuminated his features.
Yu Xiao's eyes widened in recognition—the sharp jawline, the elegant bearing, the calm intensity in his gaze.
"Y—Young Master?" Her voice trembled with disbelief, the words catching in her throat.
"It's me." His response was simple, steady, confirming what her eyes could hardly believe.
Yu Xiao's gaze darted around the unfamiliar chamber, taking in the dim surroundings—the carved wooden beams overhead, the silk hangings, the subtle scent of incense lingering in the air.
Her mind raced with confusion and questions.
Where am I?
How did I get here?
Then her eyes snapped back to Yun Qingjue, who now stood close beside her bed, his expression unreadable yet somehow concerned.
"How do you feel?" His voice carried genuine inquiry, though his posture remained formal, controlled—a careful balance between concern and propriety.
"Feeling better now."
She replied with a faint smile, though exhaustion still shadowed her features.
Her curiosity quickly overtook her weariness.
"By the way, how did you get in here? Did the vortex sucked or pulled you in as well?"
Yun Qingjue's brow furrowed slightly, genuine confusion flickering across his face.
"Sucked? Pulled?"
He tilted his head, studying her with a mixture of concern and bewilderment.
"What vortex are you talking about? I can enter and leave this place freely, whenever I wish. There's no force compelling me."
His tone carried a note of gentle correction, as though explaining something obvious.
"Why would you think I was dragged here against my will?"
Yu Xiao opened her mouth, then closed it again, the words dying on her tongue.
Her hand rose instinctively to the back of her head, fingers scratching through her disheveled hair in a gesture of pure awkwardness.
A sheepish smile tugged at the corner of her lips, though it didn't quite reach her eyes.
"I... I see."
The words came out small, almost apologetic.
Her gaze drifted away from his face, unable to hold his steady regard.
"So you weren't... pulled in like I was."
The realization settled over her like a cold blanket.
Of course. How foolish of me. He wasn't dragged here by some mysterious, violent force. He belongs in this world—he commands it, moves through it freely.
Meanwhile, she was the helpless one, swept up like debris in a storm, deposited in an unfamiliar place without warning or understanding.
Heat crept up her neck and bloomed across her cheeks.
She cleared her throat, her hand still scratching absently at her head, fingers now tangling in a loose strand of hair.
"That makes sense. I just thought…"
She trailed off, the sentence hanging incomplete in the air between them.
Her fingers twisted the strand of hair nervously as she stared at a point somewhere beyond his shoulder, anywhere but at his face.
"Never mind. Forget I asked."
The embarrassment was palpable in her voice, in the way her shoulders hunched slightly inward, in the continued fidgeting that betrayed her discomfort at her own ignorance.
Yun Qingjue's expression softened, his features easing into something gentler, more understanding.
He gestured toward the bed with a graceful motion of his hand.
"My Lady, you're anxious. Please, get back to rest and calm yourself first."
His voice carried the soothing cadence of reassurance.
"Thankfully, you were cast into the right place—a sanctuary, not a trap. Don't worry."
He paused, his gaze steady and sincere.
"With me here, and with Dijun's protection, you'll be safe."
Dijun?
The name struck her like a stone dropped into still water, ripples of confusion spreading through her mind.
Her brows drew together as a realization crystallized—sharp and sudden.
So it wasn't him who carried me here last time? Then who…?
Her head snapped up, eyes locking onto Yun Qingjue's face with sudden urgency.
The question burst from her lips before she could stop it.
"Wait! Who is Dijun?"
Yun Qingjue's expression shifted, becoming more solemn, weighted with reverence.
He drew in a measured breath before speaking, his voice taking on a formal quality—the tone one uses when speaking of legends.
"Dijun," he began, each word deliberate and respectful, "is the most revered person in the entire realm. His name alone commands absolute respect—and absolute fear."
His eyes grew distant, as though seeing something beyond the walls of the chamber.
"Those who hear his title tremble. Even the most powerful cultivators lower their heads in his presence."
He paused, letting the gravity of those words settle between them before continuing.
"Yet for the past three hundred years, he has secluded himself here in this hidden sanctuary."
Yun Qingjue's gaze returned to Yu Xiao's face, studying her reaction carefully.
"One reason drove him to isolation—one purpose that outweighs all the power and authority he once wielded openly in the world above."
His expression softened then, a flicker of something more personal crossing his features—affection, perhaps, or gratitude.
"He raised me," Yun Qingjue added quietly, his voice losing some of its formal edge.
"Took me in when I had nothing, taught me everything I know. He's been more than a master to me."
A faint smile touched his lips.
"If one truly thinks about it, I acknowledge him as my uncle—not by blood, but by bonds far stronger."
"Ah."
Yu Xiao's response came out soft, almost breathless—a sound of understanding that barely masked the whirlwind of thoughts spinning through her mind.
Her eyes flickered with something unreadable, a flash of recognition or perhaps realization that she quickly suppressed.
Yun Qingjue's head tilted slightly, his sharp gaze narrowing with curiosity.
He studied her face, searching for the meaning behind that simple syllable, behind the subtle shift in her expression.
"Why did you suddenly ask?"
His question was gentle but probing, carrying the weight of genuine interest.
There was no accusation in his tone, only a careful inquiry—as though he sensed there was more to her question than idle curiosity.