Evening fell over the Su Manor as the final sunrays colored the sky deep orange. Spirit-stone lanterns lit up on the covered walkways. Their soft light seeped onto the growing twilight.
Inside their courtyard, Su Kang stood patiently. Bai Yunxi was in front of him, her movements calm and deliberate as she helped him with his outer robe. Her movements were graceful, her hands tenderly smoothed the fabric over his shoulders. It was a humble action, yet she performed it with the calm dignity of a matriarch.
She said nothing. Her expression was a mask of placid dignity, but Su Kang felt the faint, lingering worry in her gaze. She was still concerned.
Her hands stilled on his shoulders. A cultivator’s life is like this, she thought internally. It was the same quiet dread she felt when Li Fang left, and she knew this would happen again. Her son and her husband would always seek power and opportunity. I have to become strong. Faster. The resolve surfaced, a silent promise to herself.
Su Kang placed his hands over hers. Her skin was soft. “While I’m away, take care of yourself,” he said softly. He gazed into her emerald eyes. He saw the concern she worked so hard to conceal. “I have already spoken with Cousin Hua. She will look after you.” He paused, a faint smile touching his lips. “And tell Yue Mei to watch over Su Ting. See that he doesn’t slacken because I am away.”
A small, sad smile graced her lips. Bai Yunxi nodded. “I will.”
He said no more and simply pulled her into his arms. The embrace was tight; he hated leaving her. It reminded him of her past when Li Xiao disappeared, a fear he never wanted her to feel again.
She pressed her face against his chest and inhaled his familiar scent. Her hands clutched his robe, fingers twisted in the embroidered silk, as if she could hold him there. Stop him there.
Against her cheek, she felt the steady, reassuring beat of his heart. He held her just as tightly by his side. One hand cradled the back of her head. His fingers combed her hair in slow, deliberate strokes.
Then he leaned down. She tilted her face up in answer. Their lips met.
It was not a hurried farewell. His lips were soft at first, but then they firmed. They claimed hers with a very quiet hunger. She felt the warmth of his skin and the solid muscles pressed against her. Her lips moved against his, drawing him deeper, tasting him. The kiss spoke of longing, of unspoken promises—a vow to return.
The kiss lasted for a long time. Neither was willing to be the first to break away.
When they finally parted, he did not say another word. He gave her hand one last squeeze, then turned and walked away.
Bai Yunxi stood alone in the courtyard. The cool evening air brushed against her rosy cheeks. She watched his back as he walked down the lantern-lit path. His figure grew smaller. Soon he was gone, but she stood there for a long time, watching the cold empty path with the warmth of his kiss still on her lips.
Kang reached the main gate of the Su Manor. His parents and uncle Su Han waited, his uncle’s smile replaced by a somber expression as the lantern glow cast long shadows on the stone.
He stopped before them, bowing deeply. “Father. Mother. Uncle. I will be going now.”
”Su Kang,” Su Han said, his voice lacking its usual playful lilt, “the Ancestor has set a limit. You have two months inside the realm. Do not let greed cloud your judgment.”
”I know, Uncle,” Su Kang replied, his gaze steady.
Dong Yue stepped forward. She reached out and caressed his head in a final maternal touch. “Take care of yourself, Kang’er,” she said, her voice soft but firm. “We will be waiting for your safe return.”
Su Chen simply placed a hand on his son’s shoulder, his grip firm. “I trust you will do well.”
Su Kang bid them a final farewell. He turned. He walked out of the gate.
The world outside the manor felt colder and the sounds of the city were a distant murmur. He moved quickly through the darkening landscape. He soon left the city perimeter behind. He arrived at a desolate, windswept bluff a few miles from Liyun. The last rays of sunset were gone. The sky was a deep, star-dusted indigo.
He waited.
Moments later, two figures appeared from thin air. Their movements were silent. Their presence did not disturb a single blade of grass.
Fei Yan offered a polite smile. “Ready for an adventure, Young Master Su?”
Zhu Zhihao did not wait for an answer. She raised her hand. The elegant purple palanquin materialized before them. It was crafted from a shiny, dark purple wood, with thin silver lines forming shapes of birds and clouds across its surface. It was a carriage for a noble.
It was ten meters wide and thirty meters long. Su Kang had expected something larger. The palanquin, though exquisite, seemed almost understated for a Nascent Soul cultivator.
Fei Yan and Zhu Zhihao entered first, with Fei Yan gesturing for him to follow. Su Kang boarded without a word. As he stepped inside, the world expanded.
The interior was not a confined space; it was a vast, luxurious chamber, at least five times larger than its exterior suggested. This was not a simple carriage. It was a mobile residence. The main chamber alone was vast, furnished with low, darkwood tables and plush seating. He could see a short hallway that led to what were clearly private, closed-door rooms.
Void folding, Su Kang thought, his heart thumping with awe. Storage rings had the same ability, but they could not contain living beings. An artifact with spatial properties that could accommodate people was a treasure of immense value. Even the inner elders of the Heavenly Sword Sect, as far as he knew, did not possess such a spiritual artifact. This was a higher level of spatial refinement. This single object told him more about Zhu Zhihao’s background than any words ever could.
The door closed, sealing them in perfect silence. The view outside the crystalline window shifted instantly from the dark hills of Liyun City to the star-filled blackness of the Tranquil Void.
They were gone.
High above the now-empty bluff, the air shimmered.
A figure materialized in the night sky. His broad frame was draped in a loose robe of black and gold. Long, flowing hair, a mix of black and silver, cascaded down his back. His skin had a brown tone. It was the Su Clan Ancestor.
He stood there. He had watched the entire departure, his presence completely concealed.
”I could not see through them,” he murmured, his deep voice a rumble in the stillness of the night. His spiritual sense had been unable to pierce the veil around their bodies. He could not gauge their true depth.
He sighed. His gaze turned towards the empty patch of sky where the palanquin had vanished. “I can only hope that Su Kang is right in his judgment.”
—
Inside the palanquin, he felt no tremor of movement. No sound penetrated its walls, yet Su Kang knew they were traveling at an incredible speed. The view from the crystalline window was a deep, star-filled blackness.
He sat on a silk cushion, at Fei Yan’s invitation. He maintained a composed exterior. Inside, his mind was racing. He thought of the exquisite spiritual boat Elder Lu Yin had given him in his future vision. That was a peak exquisite-grade spiritual item, a priceless gift for any core formation cultivator. But this palanquin was different. The resources and knowledge required to craft such a thing were on another level entirely.
Is Senior Zhu wealthier than Elder Lu Yin? He found the idea hard to believe. Elder Lu Yin was a peak third-level alchemist in the Heavenly Sword Sect. Can someone from the Xuantian Empire, even a Nascent Soul expert, truly be richer than her?
He filed the thought away. After all, Elder Lu Yin had been able to give away a peak exquisite-grade spiritual boat. Perhaps he had never seen Elder Lu Yin’s true wealth, or perhaps he was underestimating the power Zhu Zhihao represented.
His gaze drifted to the far end of the chamber. Zhu Zhihao sat on a raised dais, her eyes closed in meditation. She was a silent, violet-robed mountain. Her presence dominated the space without a single word.
”Young Master Su.”
His head turned. Fei Yan sat opposite him, a small, steaming teapot on the low table between them.
”Please, have some tea.”
She poured a cup without waiting for his reply. The liquid was pale gold. Its aroma was sharp and floral, a clean scent that cut through the sterile, contained air of the palanquin.
Su Kang accepted it. “Thank you, Senior Fei.”
Fei Yan took her own cup. “The location you provided in the Cangwu Region,” she said, her voice calm and conversational. “We should be able to reach it in three or four days.”
She gestured toward the hallway he had noticed earlier. “There are private rooms if you wish to rest or cultivate.”
Su Kang’s hand paused on its way to the cup. Three or four days?
His own calculations, based on a top-tier spiritual boat, had estimated a non-stop journey of at least three weeks. A Core Formation cultivator flying on their own would need even longer.
No wonder she could travel from the Xuantian Empire to Jiang State on a whim. For others, that was a hard-earned four-month journey one-way. For her, it was just a few weeks’ trip. The sheer difference in power and resources was staggering.
He looked at Fei Yan with genuine admiration.
”It’s truly marvelous,” he said, his voice sincere.
