The sun did not wait for broken men, nor did it pause for shattered swords. It crested over the eastern peaks of Wu Tan City, flooding the Xiao Clan estate in a brilliant, unforgiving golden light.
For the first time since he had awakened in this new world, Yoriichi Tsugikuni missed the dawn.
The absolute physical drain of emptying his Dou Qi, combined with the devastating emotional crash of the forge explosion, had forced his body into a state of deep, restorative hibernation. When his crimson eyes finally fluttered open, the sunlight was already streaming through the paper lattice of the window, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air.
He didn't move immediately. His senses slowly booted up, cataloging the state of his vessel.
The searing agony in his muscles had dulled to a deep, heavy ache. The shallow cut on his chest throbbed slightly, but the bleeding had completely stopped, sealed by his dense physique and the meticulous care he had received.
Then, he felt the weight against his side.
Yoriichi turned his head slightly on the pillow. Xiao Yu was fast asleep, her face buried in the crook of his shoulder, one arm thrown draped securely across his chest. Her breathing was soft and rhythmic. The harsh, bossy exterior she presented to the clan was completely gone, replaced by a peaceful, contented vulnerability.
A incredibly soft smile touched the corners of Yoriichi's lips. It was a fleeting expression, there and gone like a ripple on a pond, but it was genuine.
He slowly raised his right hand, ignoring the stiffness in his joints, and gently patted the crown of her head. He let his fingers brush through her dark hair once, a silent gesture of profound gratitude.
"You anchored me," he thought. "I will not forget."
He needed to begin his day. The sword had failed, but his body still required tempering.
With a level of bodily control that defied human anatomy, Yoriichi executed a variation of his Shadowless Sun Tread while lying down. He shifted his weight millimeter by millimeter, sliding out from under her arm and off the massive mattress without causing a single creak in the wooden frame. He carefully tucked the quilt around her shoulders, ensuring the cool morning air wouldn't wake her.
He walked barefoot to the wooden table, poured himself a cup of cold water from the clay pitcher, and drank it in one long, continuous swallow.
As he set the cup down, his heightened senses—the passive remnants of the Transparent World—picked up a disturbance.
Footsteps were approaching his courtyard. They were light, almost floating, possessing a deliberate cadence that bespoke high-level agility training. Accompanying the footsteps was an aura that Yoriichi recognized from the clan library: a profoundly pure, ancient energy carrying the faint, terrifying signature of golden flames.
Xiao Xun'er.
Yoriichi's brow furrowed slightly. "Why is she coming here?"
Outside the courtyard walls, Xiao Xun'er walked gracefully, her hands clasped behind her back. She was dressed in her usual elegant violet dress, looking like a blooming lotus untouched by the mortal world. However, beneath her serene exterior, her mind was buzzing with calculated curiosity.
Just an hour ago, shortly after she had awakened, a shadow had coalesced in the corner of her room.
Ling Ying, her Dou Huang protector, had delivered his morning report. His duty was never to interfere with her whims or choices, merely to protect her and provide intelligence.
"Miss," Ling Ying's raspy voice had echoed from the dark. "A minor explosion occurred in the Clan's Smithing Hall late last night. The cause was Xiao Ning. According to my observations, he successfully fused a Rank 2 Solar Ape core into a custom blade, but the weapon rejected the foreign Dou Qi injection and detonated. He was attempting to forge a Tier 2 weapon. At the Dou Disciple stage."
Xun'er had been genuinely shocked. A Dou Zhi Qi attempting Tier 2 smithing was akin to a toddler trying to juggle lit torches. It was madness. Yet, according to Ling Ying, he had almost succeeded.
She again recalled his completely altered temperament over the past few weeks. The arrogant, leering boy who used to follow her around like a lovesick puppy had vanished, replaced by a silent, stoic warrior who spent his days sweating in a forge and his evenings reading in the library, not sparing her a single glance.
She decided to visit. She wanted to see if the explosion had broken his newfound resolve, or if he was wallowing in depression. More importantly, she intended to give him a healing pill. Making a rapidly rising, unpredictable variable like "the new Xiao Ning" owe her a minor debt was a smart, cheap investment.
She stepped up to the wooden door of his bedroom and knocked twice.
Knock. Knock.
"Cousin Xiao Ning? Are you awake?" her melodic voice chimed.
The door opened almost immediately.
Xun'er prepared a polite, concerned smile. But the moment her golden eyes took in the scene before her, the smile froze, and she stood rooted to the spot.
Yoriichi stood in the doorway. He was wearing a loose, unbelted white sleeping robe that hung open, revealing his intensely sculpted chest and a fresh, stark-red bandage wrapped around his ribs. His red hair was wildly disheveled from sleep and soot.
But that wasn't what paralyzed Xun'er.
Her gaze drifted past his shoulder, peering into the dim bedroom. There, sprawled comfortably in the center of Yoriichi's massive bed, was Xiao Yu. Her blue silk pajamas were rumpled, the quilt was tangled around her legs, and she was sleeping with a look of absolute, exhausted contentment.
Xun'er possessed a mature mind, shaped by the ruthless, pragmatic politics of the ancient Gu Clan. In the highest echelons of the continent's top-tier clans, maintaining the absolute purity of a supreme bloodline sometimes led to... closed-door practices among close relatives. It was a dark, unspoken reality of power.
Xun'er's golden eyes snapped back to Yoriichi, gazing at him with a strange, highly complex expression.
"Cousin," Xun'er said softly, her tone laced with a mix of shock and dark amusement. "I finally understand why you stopped following me around the estate."
She crossed her arms, leaning slightly against the doorframe. "You have developed a... unique taste. I understand the concept of keeping the bloodline close, but I certainly didn't expect the two of you to progress so fast."
Yoriichi's left eye twitched.
For a man who had lived as a celibate, demon-hunting monk for most of his previous eighty years, this specific brand of misunderstanding was profoundly jarring. The atmosphere in the doorway instantly became thick and intensely awkward.
Maintaining his absolute, stoic poker face, Yoriichi let out a quiet sigh.
"Cousin," Yoriichi said calmly, his voice as flat as a polished stone. "Your imagination is running wildly out of bounds. This is not what you are thinking. She slept here to watch over me. I was injured in the forge yesterday and was exhausted to the point of collapse. She acted as a guard."
He didn't bother defending his honor vehemently; he simply stated the facts. He then smoothly pivoted the conversation, turning his piercing crimson gaze directly into her golden ones.