After arriving in Zhou City, the atmosphere changed at once.
The air felt different—calmer, steadier, carrying a quiet weight that the Heavenly Martial Sect did not possess. Where the sect rose among peaks and clouds, Zhou City lay grounded, its streets broad and its walls ancient, marked by time rather than spectacle.
Members of the Zhou family were already waiting.
Without ceremony, they stepped forward and took the lead. Kai and Su Yan followed alongside them, while the rest of the group moved naturally in the same direction. There was no need for instructions. Every step felt expected, as though this return had been decided long ago.
The city was not bustling.
Shops were closing for the day, doors being drawn shut as lanterns flickered to life one by one. People along the streets slowed when they noticed the procession, their gazes respectful but restrained. No one spoke loudly. No one lingered.
This was Zhou territory.
Rai walked quietly, her pace steady. Though this was her home city, she had not returned as she once did. The familiar streets looked unchanged, yet she felt herself seeing them from a slight distance—aware, for the first time, that she was no longer merely passing through them as before.
The Zhou estate soon came into view.
Tall gates stood open, the stonework old but meticulously maintained. Beyond them, layered courtyards extended inward, lit by soft, controlled lighting rather than festive brilliance. Servants and elders moved with purpose, their steps measured, their expressions focused.
There was no celebration here.
Only preparation.
Though the baptism had been planned for a long time, tonight required everything to come together. Resources that had been secured over months were being brought out. Containers were carried toward the inner grounds. Seals were checked. Formations were inspected once more, not for appearance, but for stability.
All of it led toward a single place.
Deep within the estate, the platform prepared for the baptism awaited—silent, expansive, and untouched by ornament. It had been built to endure what might come, not to impress those who watched.
As Kai and Su Yan were guided further in, the sky continued to darken.
The sun slipped behind the city walls, its last light stretching thin across rooftops and courtyards before fading entirely. Above, the sky deepened from blue to indigo, the first stars beginning to appear.
Night was approaching.
And with it, the moment that would mark not just a union already completed—but the true beginning of what lay ahead.
Guided deeper into the Zhou estate, the procession did not slow.
Zhou Ming walked at the front, his steps steady, his expression composed. Beside him was his wife, Rui, her posture calm yet attentive, as though every detail unfolding around them had already been weighed countless times in her mind. Rai followed close behind, with Kai at her side, while Su Yan and the others moved with them, the quiet gravity of the moment settling over the group.
They passed through one courtyard after another, each more secluded than the last.
At last, the path opened.
Before them lay the platform prepared for the baptism.
It stood broad and firm beneath the darkening sky, its surface etched with ancient patterns that did not seek attention yet carried unmistakable authority. No excessive ornamentation adorned it—only clean lines, deliberate spacing, and formations embedded so deeply into the stone that they felt like part of the land itself.
This was not a place meant to be admired.
It was a place meant to endure.
Around the platform, preparations had already been completed. Trays of herbs were arranged in precise order, their fragrances faint but layered, each chosen for a specific purpose. Pills sealed within jade containers rested nearby, their surfaces faintly warm with contained energy. Arrays of natural treasures—some subtle, others unmistakably rare—had been placed at measured distances, forming a careful balance rather than excess.
Because this baptism was not for one.
Kai and Rai would undergo it together.
And so, the materials prepared had increased severalfold—not to overwhelm, but to stabilize. Every herb, every pill, every treasure served a role: to temper the flow of spiritual energy, to protect their bodies, and to deepen their affinity with Heaven and Earth rather than strain it.
Baptism was a rite known to all who stepped onto the path of cultivation.
It was the first true opening—a moment where one learned to sense spiritual energy not as something distant, but as something that breathed alongside them. For some, it became a foundation that elevated their future. For others, it revealed limits they could never cross.
The strong grew stronger.
The weak were left behind.
That was the cruelty—and truth—of cultivation.
Tonight, however, the baptism held even greater weight.
Many of the gifts presented by major forces during the marriage—though never publicly announced—had already been brought here. Refined treasures, rare pills, and ancient resources now rested quietly among the preparations, their value undeniable. They were offerings made not merely to celebrate a union, but to invest in what that union might one day become.
As the final arrangements settled into place, the last light of day vanished from the horizon.
Lanterns remained unlit.
The platform waited in silence.
And beneath the vast night sky, Kai and Rai stood on the threshold of a path that could no longer be postponed.
As the final arrangements were being checked and the platform stood ready beneath the darkening sky, Zhou Ming's gaze shifted—drawn by a presence that had not arrived with sound or ceremony.
Someone was already standing there.
He stood slightly apart from the others, robes simple, posture unhurried, as though the gathering of families, treasures, and fate itself had nothing to do with him. Yet the space around him felt subtly different, quieter.
Zhou Ming's expression changed at once.
He stepped forward at once and offered a respectful greeting.
"Senior Qing," Zhou Ming said, his tone sincere. "I did not expect you to be here."
Diviner Qing returned the greeting with a calm nod, his gaze already resting on the platform—and, briefly, on Kai and Rai.
"I came to witness the baptism of the children," he replied simply.
Zhou Ming was momentarily taken aback, then his expression softened into one of genuine welcome. "Senior Qing, you are more than welcome. Your presence honors us."
Diviner Qing gave a faint smile, neither confirming nor denying the weight of those words. To many, he was known as Senior Qing; to others, Diviner Qing—a figure whose insight carried more weight than his position ever suggested.
He stepped slightly closer, hands clasped behind his back, eyes thoughtful.
"This baptism," he said, almost to himself, "will not be an ordinary one."
No one disagreed.
Under the deepening night sky, with preparations complete and witnesses gathered, the platform seemed to grow heavier with expectation—as if Heaven and Earth themselves were quietly observing, waiting for the rite to begin.