Celebration and Confrontation
The profound silence of the cultivation room was a distant memory, replaced by the warm, chaotic buzz of shared victory. The six students of Class Zero, bound by the trials of the Spirit Ascension Platform, moved through the bustling evening streets of Eastsea City with a lighter step. The grim tension of survival assessments had melted into the easy camaraderie of those who had faced death together and won.
At the center, as natural as breathing, Yao Xuan and Gu Yue walked hand-in-hand. Their linked fingers were a quiet statement, an unspoken anchor amidst the cheerful noise. With each swing of their arms, the back of his hand brushed against hers, a constant, comforting point of contact. To Yao Xuan, it was more than touch; it was a silent conversation, a reaffirmation of the bond that had steadied him during the bloodline's agonizing transformation. A simple, profound happiness settled in his chest.
"I went to cultivate," he explained to the others when they asked about his absence. His gaze briefly met Gu Yue's, a flicker of shared understanding passing between them about the nature of that cultivation.
"Brother Xuan, you're too diligent!" Tang Wulin exclaimed, admiration clear in his voice. "No wonder you're so strong! We're heading to a great barbecue place Xie Xie found to celebrate. You're coming, right?"
"Of course," Yao Xuan nodded. A glance at Gu Yue, a subtle tilt of his head toward her dormitory, was all the question needed.
He found her at her door moments later. She opened it, her silver eyes taking him in. Then, a subtle change crossed her features—a slight, curious tilt of her head. She leaned in, closer than usual, and inhaled softly near his cheek.
"Yao Xuan," she said, a faint, knowing smile on her lips. "You smell… even better now."
The comment was delivered with Gu Yue's characteristic blend of clinical observation and something more personal. It was the Silver Dragon King's bloodline recognizing the deepened, purified essence of the Ancestral Dragon, a sovereign's approval. Yet, the slight flush on her cheeks and the way her eyes held his betrayed the influence of Na'er's simpler, sensory delight. To Na'er, he just smelled wonderfully, comfortingly like home.
Yao Xuan felt a warmth that had nothing to do with his bloodline. 'The attraction is mutual, on a level deeper than either of us can fully articulate.' Aloud, he simply said, "I'm glad you like it. The others want to go for a meal to celebrate. Will you come?"
"A meal? Okay, let's go." Her agreement was immediate, her smile sweetening.
Xie Xie led them not to the familiar, humble Food Street, but to a well-established barbecue restaurant with a polished, rustic charm. The aroma of sizzling meat and complex spices hit them at the door—cumin, roasting fat, sweet glazes, and smoky charcoal. The prices were steep, but for budding Soul Masters and a blacksmith like Tang Wulin, it was a worthy splurge.
Soon, their table was laden. Plates of glistening, sauce-brushed lobster, skewers of perfectly charred meat dripping with juices, tender steaks, honey-glazed rabbit, and crispy squid created a feast for the senses. For a while, conversation died, replaced by the serious, happy business of eating.
Xie Xie, Zhang Yangzi, and Wang Jinxi slowed first, patting satisfied stomachs. Yao Xuan, Gu Yue, and Tang Wulin, however, maintained a steady, impressive pace. Their metabolisms, fueled by powerful martial souls and intense cultivation, demanded far more. The growing pile of clean skewers before them drew occasional glances from other diners, but the trio ate with focused, unselfconscious enjoyment.
It was into this scene of communal contentment that a discordant note arrived.
"It's you!"
The voice was sharp, laced with lingering resentment. Xu Xiaoyu stood at the edge of their seating area, his handsome features set in a frown, his formal suit looking out of place amidst the casual barbecue atmosphere. The memory of their brief, brutal clash in the Spirit Ascension Platform—where Yao Xuan had shattered his ice and sent him fleeing—was clearly fresh.
Yao Xuan looked up, a piece of squid halfway to his mouth. His expression was calm, almost detached. "Oh, it's you. What's wrong?"
"You!" Xu Xiaoyu's temper flared. "You stole that soul beast's spiritual energy! Because of you, my sister and I were eliminated early! You're from Donghai Academy, right? Just fine. I'll remember you."
His accusation hung in the aromatic air. Before Yao Xuan could respond, Tang Wulin was on his feet, his loyalty a fiery shield. "That's not true! The Platform has always been first-come, first-served! And you're the one who attacked Brother Xuan first without even talking!"
Xu Xiaoyu flushed, momentarily stung by the blunt truth of it. His bluster had masked a tactical error, and it was laid bare.
"Alright, brother, that's enough." A new, softer voice intervened. A girl with hair the color of a deep lake stepped from behind Xu Xiaoyu, placing a calming hand on his arm. She was Xu Xiaoyan, her eyes intelligent and calm, though they held a shadow of the exhaustion from their early elimination. "His tone was wrong that day," she said, her gaze shifting to Yao Xuan and his group. "If he had spoken properly, perhaps things could have been different. Talking about killing was… excessive."
Her words were an apology, but not a submission. Her eyes, as they scanned the table, held a spark of keen interest, particularly when they lingered on Yao Xuan. It wasn't a romantic gaze, but the look of a brilliant strategist recognizing a formidable, and puzzling, variable. She had felt the shocking depth of his power and the strange, overwhelming pressure of his aura even through the simulation. Who was he?
Gu Yue, who had been quietly observing the exchange while neatly eating a skewer, felt the shift in the atmosphere. Her silver eyes moved from Xu Xiaoyu's irritation to Xu Xiaoyan's calculating calm. 'Analysis: Female, approximately same age. Soul power fluctuation suggests high intelligence-system type martial soul. Primary emotion: curiosity. Target of curiosity: Yao Xuan. Threat assessment: Low direct combat, moderate strategic. Reason for curiosity likely rooted in his anomalous performance data.'
The analysis was instant and cold. But beneath it, a different, more instinctual part of her—the part that remembered Na'er's singular focus on her 'Big Brother Xuan'—prompted her to casually shift her chair a fraction closer to Yao Xuan's. It was a subtle, possessive motion, a silent reaffirmation of their connection in the face of outside attention.
Yao Xuan met Xu Xiaoyan's gaze evenly. The hostility from her brother was a simple matter, but her thoughtful curiosity was more complex. He gave a slight, non-committal nod. "What's done is done. The Platform is a place of competition. But unnecessary conflict benefits no one."
He wasn't offering friendship, but he was stating a fact. The world of Soul Masters was too small for endless, petty grudges. Xu Xiaoyan's eyes gleamed, reading the pragmatism in his statement. She returned the nod, a silent acknowledgment.
The moment of tension dissipated, leaving the smell of barbecue and the murmur of the restaurant to fill the space again. But a new thread had been introduced into the tapestry of their lives—a thread named Xu, marked by rivalry, defeat, and now, a spark of mutual, wary recognition. The celebration continued, but the world outside their tight-knit group of six had just made its presence known.