The days in Heaven Dou City bled into one another in a pleasant, sun-drenched haze. The frenetic energy of the metropolis, once so alien and overwhelming, had become a familiar rhythm. For Jin Xi, it was a grand, unfolding adventure. For Huo Yuhao, it was a period of tranquil growth, a peaceful interlude between the home he had found and the perilous quest that lay ahead.
Their little grilled fish stall was a roaring success, a tiny island of savory aroma in the vast ocean of the market square. It provided them with more than enough coin for their needs, allowing them to trade their simple bedrolls for the genuine comfort of a proper inn.
The inn was a modest but clean establishment called the 'Weary Traveler's Rest'. The bed was soft, the room was warm, and for the first time in his life, Huo Yuhao knew the simple luxury of sleeping on a mattress, a stark contrast to the cold woodshed floors and packed-earth forest caves of his past.
He recalled their first night at the inn with a fresh wave of embarrassment that had since mellowed into fond exasperation. He had, with a great sense of propriety, booked a room with two single beds, placing them on opposite sides of the room. He had been proud of his foresight, of his adherence to the human world's unspoken rules.
His pride had lasted all of five minutes.
As he was about to settle into his bed, Jin Xi had simply picked up her entire bedframe—mattress, sheets, and all—with an effortless grace that belied the heavy oak, and set it down flush against his own, the two single beds now forming one large one.
"What are you doing?!" he had whispered, his eyes wide with panic as he looked at the closed door, as if the innkeeper might burst in at any moment.
She had looked at him, her ruby eyes glinting with amusement. "I am arranging the sleeping situation to be more comfortable, of course. Why are you whispering?"
"This isn't proper, Xi'er!" he had argued, his voice a strained hiss. "In the human world, unmarried men and women don't… they don't do this! The innkeeper will think… strange things!"
She had simply laughed, a soft, melodic sound that made his arguments feel childish and silly. "Let him think what he wants. He is an insignificant human. His thoughts have no bearing on me. Besides," she had added, her voice dropping to that familiar, teasing purr as she slipped under the covers, "I am your protector. How can I protect you from all the way over there? What if you have a nightmare? It would be terribly inefficient for me to have to run all the way across the room."
He had run out of arguments. He had climbed into his own bed, his body rigid, his mind a whirlwind of adolescent panic. And then, he had felt her arm snake around his waist, pulling him close against her. She was impossibly warm, and her blonde hair, spread out on the pillow beside him, smelled faintly of sunlight and the clean air of the high forest.
His initial tension had slowly, night by night, melted away. Her nightly embrace was no longer a source of panic, but one of profound comfort. He felt safe in a way he never had before, a deep, primal security that went beyond the protection of the Ferocious Beasts. It was the simple, undeniable warmth of his partner, his friend, his… Xi'er. He had to admit, even if only to himself, that he slept better now than he ever had in his entire life.
It was during one such peaceful evening, as they lay resting in their joined beds after a long day at the stall, that the tranquility was shattered.
"KID! ARE WE EVER LEAVING THIS SMELLY, OVERCROWDED, BORING CITY?!"
Brother Skydream's soul spirit form erupted from Huo Yuhao's forehead, buzzing around the room like an oversized, diamond-encrusted hornet. He was shimmering with an energy of pure, unadulterated impatience.
"It's been a week! A whole week! I've slept, I've woken up, I've counted the dust motes on your ceiling, and we're still here! Selling stinky fish to sweaty humans! My grand plan to make you a god does not involve you becoming a glorified street cook!"
Jin Xi, who had been lazily tracing patterns on Huo Yuhao's back, sat up, her expression one of deep annoyance. The simple robe she wore as a nightgown slipped from one shoulder, revealing the perfect, pale curve of her skin. "Be quiet, you noisy bug. You're disturbing our rest."
"Noisy bug?!" Skydream shrieked, zipping right in front of her face. "I am the Million-Year Skydream Iceworm! And you should be just as impatient as I am! The Extreme North awaits! Bingbing awaits! The key to your partner's future as a supreme, dual-spirit, ultimate-attribute-wielding powerhouse is wasting away in a frozen wasteland while he's here playing house!"
Huo Yuhao sat up, placing a calming hand on Jin Xi's arm before she could retort. He looked at his frantic first companion with a patient, understanding smile.
"Calm down, Brother Skydream," he projected, his mental voice a soothing balm. "We are not wasting time. We are preparing."
"Preparing?! Preparing for what? To open a second fish stall?"
"No," Huo Yuhao said, his gaze shifting to Jin Xi, a gentle warmth in his eyes. "This is the first time Xi'er has ever been in a human city. For her, everything is new, everything is an adventure. After she gave up so much to come with me, how could I just drag her from one dangerous quest to another without giving her a chance to breathe, a chance to simply… enjoy this? We will go to the North. But we will go when we are both ready, and after she has had her fill of this new world. A few more days will make no difference."
The words hung in the quiet room. Skydream's frantic buzzing subsided. Jin Xi's annoyed expression melted away, replaced by a soft, luminous glow in her ruby eyes.
She looked at Huo Yuhao, at the sincere consideration on his young face, and her heart did a strange, fluttering little flip.
With a happy little cry, she threw her arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug. "Did you hear that, you silly worm? He's staying for me! Because he cares about my happiness more than your silly, rushed plans!" She nuzzled her cheek against his, then turned to glare playfully at the hovering Skydream. "Now, shoo! Go back to your dusty corner and sleep. The adults are talking."
Skydream's crystalline form seemed to droop with theatrical sadness. "Hmph. Brothers abandoned for a beautiful woman. It truly is the cruelest of worlds. Fine. I'll go. But don't come crying to me when you're old and grey and still flipping fish in this backwater city!"
With a final, melodramatic sigh, he zipped back into the sanctuary of Huo Yuhao's Spiritual Sea, leaving a comfortable silence in his wake. Jin Xi just giggled and hugged Huo Yuhao tighter, a deep, contented purr rumbling in her chest.
They spent the next few days in blissful leisure, truly embracing the life of tourists. The fish stall became a morning-only affair, providing them with more than enough income for their daily adventures. They visited the grand Heaven Dou Library, where Jin Xi stared in awe at the endless rows of books, a concept so foreign to her. They watched a play in a crowded theatre, a dramatic retelling of a heroic battle that made Jin Xi whisper critiques about the actors' poor combat stances.
It was during one of these excursions, while sipping tea in a bustling teahouse, that Huo Yuhao's keen ears picked up on a conversation from a nearby table of traveling merchants.
"…and I tell you, the whole Dou Ling Empire is in an uproar," one merchant said, leaning forward conspiratorially. "Temples popping up everywhere. Sea God temples! Haven't seen this much religious fervor in a hundred years."
"Temples?" his companion scoffed. "That's not the strangest part. I heard it from my cousin who works in the Shrek City administration. He said the ones building the temples, these people from Sea God Island, caused a huge commotion at the Heaven Dou Imperial Academy and other Imperial Academies of other Empires and even at the Shrek a few months back. A really big one happened at the Shrek Academy."
Huo Yuaho's attention sharpened, his teacup pausing halfway to his lips.
"What kind of commotion?" the first merchant asked, his eyes wide.
"They tested all the first-year students," the second merchant whispered, his voice dropping. "And here's the strange part. They only tested the ones under twelve years old. My cousin said they had some kind of magic pearl, and when one of the students touched it, the sky lit up like the gods themselves had descended. Scared the wits out of everyone. Then, the Sea God Island people just up and left, said their search was over, and started this whole temple-building business."
The blood ran cold in Huo Yuhao's veins.
Under twelve. A search. A divine reaction.
His mind raced, connecting the pieces with a terrifying clarity. The book of fate, his future self's life story, had never mentioned any of this. In that timeline, Sea God Island had remained a reclusive, mythical place. They had never interfered on the mainland.
This was a deviation. A huge one.
'Tang San,' he thought, his heart pounding a slow, heavy rhythm. 'He couldn't find me. The protection Elder Huo gave me, it worked. The Sea God can't spy on my destiny directly. So… he sent his followers on a physical search.'
A cold smile touched his lips. It was a smile of grim satisfaction. His enemy was blind. His enemy was fumbling in the dark, using a brute-force method to find a needle in a continent-sized haystack. And the fact that they had stopped their search and moved on to building temples meant they had likely given up, or had been misled by that strange event at Shrek.
'For now, I am free,' he concluded. 'The leash is not around my neck. But he is not idle. He is moving his pieces on the board, spreading his influence. I cannot afford to be complacent.'
He looked across the table at Jin Xi, who was happily munching on a sweet pastry, oblivious to the storm of thoughts in his mind. He made a silent vow. He would not tell her. He would not burden her with the weight of this invisible god, this celestial puppet master. This was his fight, his secret. He would carry it alone.
Their daily routine continued. The fish stall remained a fixture in the market square, a beacon of deliciousness in the outer district. And every day, like clockwork, Jiang Nannan would appear.
She had become their most loyal customer. She would arrive in the late afternoon, her face holding its usual quiet, melancholic grace. She would never join the noisy queue, but would wait patiently off to the side until the main rush had subsided.
She always bought two fish.
"Thank you," she would say, her voice soft and polite, as she handed Huo Yuhao the twenty copper coins. She would then walk away, her back straight and her steps measured, carrying the two warm, fragrant parcels.
Huo Yuhao found himself looking forward to her quiet visits. She never made small talk, never asked questions, but there was a simple, respectful civility in their daily transaction that he appreciated.
One bright, clear afternoon, as the sun began its slow descent towards the horizon, Jiang Nannan arrived at her usual time. Huo Yuhao had saved two of his best fish for her, grilling them to a perfect golden-brown.
He was just about to hand them to her when a frantic cry cut through the market's din.
"Nannan! Jiang Nannan!"
A young woman, her face pale and streaked with tears, pushed her way through the thinning crowd. She grabbed Jiang Nannan's arm, her voice trembling with panic.
"It's your mother! The doctors… they said she's taken a turn for the worse! They said… they said she might not make it through the night!"
The world seemed to stop.
The polite, calm mask on Jiang Nannan's face shattered, replaced by a look of raw, stark terror. Her hand, the one holding the two carefully wrapped fish, went limp.
The parcels fell, hitting the dusty ground with a soft, final thud.
She didn't even seem to notice. Her dark eyes were wide with a dawning horror. Without a word, without a sound, she turned and ran, pushing past the stunned onlookers, her slender form a blur of desperate motion as she sprinted in the direction of the city's medical district.
Huo Yuhao stood frozen behind his stall, his heart clenching with a painful, familiar ache. He watched her disappear, and in her panicked flight, he saw an echo of his own past. He saw himself, a small, helpless boy, watching his own mother's life slip away, her breath growing shallower, her body colder. He felt the cold dread, the suffocating helplessness, the desperate, futile prayer for a miracle that would never come.
'Her mother… is dying from an illness,' he thought, the memory a fresh, open wound in his soul.
Jin Xi, who had been quietly observing the scene, turned her veiled face to him. She saw the look in his eyes—not pity, but a deep, personal pain. She saw the ghost of a weeping child reflected in the gaze of the strong young man before her. She understood instantly.
She reached out and placed a gentle hand on his arm, her touch pulling him back from the precipice of his own dark memories.
"Go," she said softly, her ruby eyes full of a profound understanding and a gentle strength. "Go to her. If you wish to help, then go."
He looked at her, his expression lost. "But the stall… the remaining fish…"
She gave his arm a reassuring squeeze. "I will handle this. They are just fish. Your heart is troubled. Go and set it at ease."
Gratitude, deep and overwhelming, washed over him, clearing the fog of his grief. He looked at his partner, his friend, and saw not the teasing princess, but a queen of profound wisdom and empathy.
He nodded, his voice thick with emotion. "Thank you, Xi'er."
Without another word, he untied his apron, vaulted over the side of his stall, and broke into a run, his eyes fixed on the path Jiang Nannan had taken, his heart pounding with a single, desperate thought: 'I can't let another person feel the pain I felt. Not if I can help it.'