Elsewhere, Xiu Zhao awoke chained inside a cage.
A crowd watched him with hungry eyes.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" shouted a woman, spreading her arms wide. "Today we have a brand-new product! Let the auction begin!"
"Twenty thousand silver pieces!"
"Fifty thousand!"
The voices rose. The woman smiled, pleased — until a new voice echoed:
"Ten thousand gold pieces."
Silence fell. Everyone turned. A tall man in dark armor walked through the crowd.
"General Sheng…" they whispered.
"Release him," he ordered. "He's just a child."
The woman gestured, and two men opened the cage. Xiu Zhao stumbled but managed to stand. The general took him by the arm and led him out.
Snow was falling as they mounted a white horse. They galloped through the night until they reached a mansion lit by lanterns.
"Have a good night," said the general with a faint smile, leaving him before a room.
Xiu Zhao entered. The room was simple but warm. He removed his boots and lay down.
"I should have stayed on guard…" he murmured before falling asleep.
The next morning, he bathed and dressed in a turquoise hanfu. He had barely finished getting ready when someone knocked at the door.
"General Sheng and Madam are waiting for you," said a maid.
He followed her to the hall, where the general and his wife awaited.
"Sit," said the general kindly.
Xiu Zhao obeyed. Lady Sheng watched him with admiration.
"Is there something on my face?" he asked, expressionless.
"N-no, nothing," she replied, blushing.
"What a strange woman," he thought.
"We called you to eat. We don't want you to go hungry," she said sweetly.
"Will it be like this until someone comes to fetch me?" he asked, disappointed.
"Yes," the woman replied cheerfully.
"I'm vegetarian," he said curtly.
"Perfect! I'll make every vegetarian dish I can think of!"
During the meal, the general questioned him curiously.
"Where did you live before?"
"I moved a few months ago. I'm not sure where I live yet," he answered calmly.
"And your other home?"
"It's abandoned."
Lady Sheng sighed.
The day passed gently. Xiu Zhao helped her with chores, shopping, even bookkeeping. She was kind — always insisting he wear light colors, though he remained loyal to darker tones.
At night, they dined together with the general, who had returned late.
"How was your day?" he asked.
"Wonderful! We did so many things!" his wife replied.
"I'm glad you get along," said the general, smiling.
"He's a delight! Who wouldn't like him?"
"Stop flattering the boy, you'll embarrass him."
"You're just jealous," she teased.
Xiu Zhao sighed, watching the couple with a neutral expression. The general and his wife laughed.
"Eat," he muttered. "And stop laughing like fools."
The next morning, the servants passing through the courtyard stopped to watch him — sitting beneath a tree, surrounded by snow.
"He's so beautiful…"
"What luck to be born with a face like that…"
The whispers were constant. And, as always, Lady Sheng would end up scolding the servants.
The days settled into a routine — a quiet cycle of work, laughter, and silent gazes.
But even in the calm, Xiu Zhao knew: the storm was still to come.
...
Night rested gently over the Sheng mansion.
Inside the chamber, the scent of warm tea and freshly prepared sweets lingered in the air.
Xiu Zhao sat at the table, motionless, his eyes lost in the amber reflection within his cup.
The Sheng couple spoke cheerfully about their day — soft laughter, light memories — yet to him, their voices felt distant, muffled, as if coming from another world.
He merely drank his tea, one quiet sip at a time, and tasted the sweets without thought.
Outwardly calm.
Inwardly weary.
The doors creaked open.
A young man entered, moving with quiet grace.
Xiu Zhao didn't look up; his gaze remained fixed on the tea's surface, undisturbed.
But Madam Sheng and the General rose to their feet at once, excitement lighting their faces.
"My son!" the woman cried, rushing to embrace him.
"You're back!" She rubbed her cheek against his, laughter and tears mingling.
"Hi, mother…" was all the boy could manage.
"Xu Mei, let him breathe," the General scolded gently.
She pouted but let go, smiling still.
"All right… but it seems I've been replaced."
"Him?" she said, laughing, gesturing toward Xiu Zhao. "He's not here to replace you, dear. Come, sit down — you must be exhausted from the journey!"
She pulled out a chair eagerly, her joy unrestrained.
"Hi, I'm Yi Tian!" said the young man, smiling brightly at Xiu Zhao.
Slowly, Xiu Zhao lifted his eyes.
His gaze — cold, distant — met Yi Tian's for only a heartbeat, yet that single glance was enough to silence the boy's smile.
Then he turned back to the cup, staring into the tea as if the world beyond it no longer existed.
Yi Tian couldn't help but keep watching him.
There was something magnetic about that stillness, that silence that spoke louder than words.
Seconds passed, heavy as minutes.
Feeling the weight of the boy's stare, Xiu Zhao began counting silently to five.
"Can you stop staring at me already?"
His voice sliced through the air — cold, low, and sharp enough to make everyone freeze.
A vein pulsed on his neck; anger flickered like a shadow in his eyes.
"I—I'm sorry," Yi Tian murmured, lowering his head. "I just wanted to know your name."
"Xiu Zhao," he replied curtly, standing up.
The Sheng couple exchanged startled glances — after a whole week together, they finally knew his name.
Xiu Zhao turned toward the door, ready to leave.
But something cut through the air — swift, silent.
An arrow.
In one effortless motion, Xiu Zhao caught it midair.
For an instant, the room froze.
His expression darkened.
Veins surfaced along his neck and hand; a black aura began to leak from his body like living smoke.
He snapped the arrow in two — the sound echoing like a warning.
General Sheng's eyes widened.
"You've had training, haven't you?" he asked, intrigued.
Xiu Zhao turned his head slightly, voice dripping with irony.
"Who knows if I have or not."
"Who trained you?" Madam Sheng asked, curiosity bright in her tone.
"No one. Just a reflex."
"You expect us to believe that?" Yi Tian asked, half in awe, half in disbelief.
"Did I ask you to?" he shot back, smirking faintly.
Silence fell again.
Without another word, Xiu Zhao turned and left the room.
In his chamber, a cold breeze greeted him.
The window stood open — curtains swaying under the pale moonlight.
He closed the door behind him, then walked to the window and shut it slowly.
For a long moment, he simply stood there.
The moonlight traced his face like porcelain — serene, almost fragile.
But behind those calm eyes, something darker stirred.
Ancient. Restless.
As if the world, unknowingly, had just awakened what should never have been disturbed.