What was once a battlefield steeped in dark qi had now settled into stillness, a fragile stillness, like breath held between two heartbeats. The Yellow Tree stood tall in the grove, still flickering with fading remnants of sacred energy, its roots curling over stone like silent guardians.
Aiyu stood a few paces away, arms folded across his chest. His expression was unreadable, carved from ice like always. But his eyes never left her.
Yuzi.
The woman who'd once appeared in the midst of chaos like she belonged to it.
Her face was pale and her breath shallow, but her posture? Straight. Unyielding. Even in weakness, there was no trace of helplessness. Aiyu didn't speak at first. He was watching her not as a man, not as a protector, but like a strategist watching a battlefield he couldn't fully read.
Because something about her didn't make sense..
He finally broke the silence.
"You knew that formation. The Nine Pagodas of Survival."
Yuzi opened her eyes slowly but didn't look at him. Her voice was quiet, flat.
"I did."
"That formation's been lost for over three hundred years. And it doesn't match your spiritual signature."
That made her pause. Just for a second. Then, she stood without wavering.
Aiyu watched her closely. Her movements were deliberate, careful not because she was weak but because she was trained never to show too much.
That alone told him she wasn't an ordinary cultivator.
He narrowed his eyes. "Who taught you?"
Yuzi tilted her head slightly, not in challenge but in disinterest. "Does it matter?"
"It does," he replied coldly. "Because it means you're either lying about who you are, or you're something the Sect hasn't recorded."
She finally met his gaze.
There was no emotion in her expression, just something ancient in her stillness. Not arrogance. Not fear.
Memory.
Aiyu's brows pulled together.
He didn't like puzzles that didn't solve themselves. And he especially didn't like people who could override ancient spiritual signatures like it was a minor inconvenience.
"I don't trust what I can't explain," he said plainly.
Yuzi responded with the ghost of a shrug. "Then don't."
He should've been irritated.
Instead, he found himself more curious.
the first time, this woman helped him to recover from battlefield wounds, and this time, she'd arrived just do something irreversible. Both times, she left with more questions than answers.
And now?
Now, she stood before him, clearly weakened from soul backlash yet completely in control of herself.
The small spirit by her side, Little Blue, floated protectively near her shoulder. Its energy pulsed softly, subtly resonating with her qi. That wasn't normal. Soul spirits didn't form that kind of attachment unless…
Unless they weren't summoned. Unless they were merged.
He glanced at the little spirit, then back at her. "You merged your soul with that thing."
Yuzi didn't deny it.
"I had," she said. Aiyu's eyes narrowed. "That's not something done lightly."
"No," she said, voice unreadable. "It's not."
He waited for her to explain more. She didn't...
There was something about the way she stood there, calm amidst ruin, that made him feel Unsettled. Not admiration. Not attraction. Something older. A pressure in his chest. A dull recognition his logic couldn't explain.
"You're not like the others," he said finally. "Even your spiritual presence feels... fractured. Like it doesn't fully belong here."
She looked at him. Not surprised. Not defensive. Just still.
"I never claimed I did," she replied. Aiyu was silent again.
He wasn't the kind of man to chase ghosts or illusions. He dealt in facts, in power, in measurable force. But this woman, Yuzi....she was none of those things.
She was a walking contradiction.
He didn't trust her. But he couldn't ignore her either. Suddenly, the token on his belt began to glow, a pulse of energy from the cave his team had discovered. The one foretold to hold the key to the ancient map hidden in the Himalayas.
He had to go. But he hesitated. He didn't trust that she wouldn't vanish again.
"You shouldn't be walking yet," he said.
"I'll manage," she answered, already taking a step away from the tree.
He clenched his jaw. "If you push your soul too far again, you'll collapse."
"Then I'll collapse," she said, like it meant nothing.
He hated that kind of recklessness. It reminded him of himself before he learned control. But with her... it felt different. Like she wasn't being reckless, just... detached.
Like she'd lived enough lives to stop fearing what this one could take from her. He turned to leave. But stopped mid-step.
"You didn't tell me your name," he said without looking back. "What should I call you now?"
She was quiet for a moment. "Yuzi will do."
He nodded once. Then disappeared into the shadows of the forest. But long after he left, the strange tug in his chest remained. He would see her again. He didn't know why. He didn't even know if he wanted to. But he knew this:
She wasn't just another cultivator. And whatever she was... She was woven into the storm that was coming...