After finishing his al, Yu Xuan was served the desert — Jadefruit Snow Jelly. Under the soft glow of the moonlight, the translucent dessert shimred like moon-kissed crystal.
He scooped a spoonful and took a bite. A sharp tang hit first, refreshing and cool, but it was quickly wrapped in a layer of llow sweetness that lingered pleasantly on his tongue.
"Mmm... not bad," he murmured. ’This world really does have its culinary wonders.’
Then, tilting his head slightly, he asked with innocent curiosity, "Old man, are you a scholar or sothing?"
The middle-aged man, who was calmly wiping a dish, froze mid-motion. "...I’m not old," he said, his voice flat.
"Really? You don’t look that young either," Yu Xuan said with a cheeky smile, spooning more jelly into his mouth. "So, a middle-aged scholar, then?"
"I’m not a scholar either," the man muttered, clearly questioning his life choices.
"Oh," Yu Xuan nodded as if understanding sothing profound. "So this is how it is now. Even scholars have to open food stalls to make a living."
The man paused, spoon in hand, and gave Yu Xuan a long, unreadable look.
’This brat has no filter,’ he thought. ’Audacious little thing.’
Still... he didn’t correct him. Today he was here, to just to have a look at Yu Xuan.
Soon after finishing the dessert, Yu Xuan stood up, feeling completely satisfied. He paid the middle-aged man, who gave a faint nod in return, then turned and began walking back toward his temporary residence.
"The food was truly great," he murmured to himself, hands tucked behind his back.
The streets were still alive with activity. Disciples in various robes wandered about — so laughing, so chatting, others bartering at night stalls glowing under lantern light.
At one point, he passed by a young cultivator confessing his love under a blossom tree... only to be swiftly and gently rejected.
Yu Xuan paused, watching from a distance, and couldn’t help but think of Ban. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
"Life really does move slow and fast in cultivation world," he whispered.
Eventually, after a quiet walk under the moonlit sky, he reached the building housing his quarters. With no hesitation, he climbed the stairs and entered his room, closing the door softly behind him.
He took one last look at the dark ceiling above, then fell into bed.
A lot had happened today — from nearly getting robbed, to being told he would beco rich... and then actually getting rich. There were surprises, battles, strange predictions, a good middle-aged cook, and of course — the Goats.
He shuddered slightly at the mory.
Still, the highlight of it all might’ve been that al. The best he’d ever had.
With a peaceful exhale, he let the thoughts drift away, and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Like a log.
***
The middle-aged man stood quietly, his gaze lingering in the direction Yu Xuan had walked. He didn’t move, didn’t speak, just watched.
And though buildings and distance separated them, his eyes saw clearly, unobstructed by space or walls. He followed Yu Xuan’s silhouette all the way until the boy returned to his room and fell asleep.
Then, without fanfare, his form began to change.
The appearance of the middle-aged cook lted away like smoke caught in the wind.
In his place now stood an old man, his features partially hidden beneath a strange cloth mask. Only his eyes were visible beneath it — ancient, deep, and unreadable.
And yet, not a single person around him noticed. Neither his transformation, nor the disappearance of the food stall itself. It was as if both had never existed to begin with.
The crowd bustled, laughed, and passed by. But no one glanced in his direction. No one rembered a thing.
The old man lifted his gaze to the moon, its light gleaming off his hidden expression. Then, with a voice too soft for mortal ears to hear but hoarse, he muttered to the night:
"...Interesting. I cannot read his past."
A rare thing.
An unexpected anomaly.
He had only co to this town on a passing whim — to briefly observe Yu Xuan whose fate was interwoven with his own disciple.
But now, what he found was far more intriguing.
"The future will be full of surprises," the old man murmured, half-smiling beneath the cloth that veiled his face.
With a casual flick of his fingers, he traced a series of gestures in the air — gestures so subtle and profound that even the strongest cultivator in the sect would have noticed nothing unless their focus was wholly attuned to one specific thing:
A golden thread.
Invisible to the mortal eye, this gossar strand stretched far across mountains and peaks, linked to a soul of person with great destiny.
And now, by the old man’s will, that thread, glowing faintly with ancient light — was severed.
Silent. Clean.
A mont later, the golden strand drifted, like a feather caught on wind, and reattached itself, not to the lofty place it once belonged, but to Yu Xuan.
The mont it latched onto him, a faint ripple passed through the fabric of reality, unnoticed by all.
Far away, in the Martial Heaven Main Peak, a youth sat in deep ditation. His breathing was slow, his cultivation vast — an early stage cultivator of the Supernatural Realm. Around him, the air trembled faintly from the sheer weight of his presence.
But suddenly... his brows furrowed.
A strange sensation struck him. Not pain — but an ache, deep in the soul. As if sothing precious, sothing destined for him... had been stolen.
His concentration faltered, and an unshakable sense of loss settled in his chest, inexplicable and sharp, like the quiet absence of a sound you didn’t know you loved until it vanished.
He opened his eyes slowly.
"...Sothing’s changed," he muttered.
But he was no fool. At his level, such a sensation was not re coincidence. Premonitions, especially ones that struck this deeply, were not to be ignored.
Without hesitation, he rose from ditation and, with a flash of movent, left his chamber.
There was only one person who might understand what had just occurred — his master.
And so, beneath the star-strewn sky, one youth sought answers...
...while another, unaware, slept peacefully, now tied to a destiny far greater than he could ever imagine or could he?
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