As evening approached, Baihe Village settled into an uneasy hush. Villagers took their evening meals behind closed doors, lanterns glowing faintly through shuttered windows. A few men and women—armed with farm tools—patrolled the perimeter, guided by Elder Shui's orders, though their nervousness was apparent.
Lan Zhuoran had spent the afternoon gathering travel provisions: dried meat, rice cakes, a spare set of clothes. Borrowing a horse had proven difficult since Baihe possessed few strong animals, and most belonged to villagers who relied on them to till the fields. In the end, Elder Shui managed to negotiate a half-day loan of a sturdy mule from Old Man Liu, but that was hardly a swift mount. Still, it was better than walking for someone injured.
Upon returning home, he found Yin Feiyan dozing on a mat near the hearth, the relic laid gently at her side. Madam Qiu dozed in a nearby chair, exhausted from worry and strain. Candlelight cast flickering shadows across the walls, and Lan Zhuoran considered stepping back outside to let them rest, but something made him pause.
He studied the relic's cloth covering, drawn to the faint swirl of etched steel he had glimpsed before. A memory tickled the back of his mind: something about his father's old stories, the ones about ancient dynasties and lost technologies that once blended with cultivation techniques. He recalled references to hidden artifacts—"Systems," some called them—that harnessed both magical energy and advanced machinery. Could this relic be one of those?
Carefully, he approached. The temptation to peel back the cloth and discover the relic's form tugged at him, but he hesitated. It wasn't his to reveal, nor was it wise to disturb something Yin Feiyan guarded with her life. Yet his curiosity burned. If this object held power enough to warrant lethal pursuit, perhaps understanding it could help him protect the village and Yin Feiyan.
He sat cross-legged near the mat, memories of his father's teachings flooding back:
"Zhuoran, the Five-Winds Form isn't just about footwork and strikes—it's about harmonizing with the flow of energy around you. In ancient times, men and women who truly mastered cultivation could sense the threads of power within relics and even machinery… if they maintained a pure heart."
He closed his eyes briefly, letting the gentle crackle of the fire guide his breathing. In the dim recesses of his mind, he tried to summon the sense of calm and focus essential to deep meditation. The world faded to the soft pulse of his own heartbeat. For a moment, he felt the faintest of resonances—like a low hum or a ripple in still water—emanating from the relic's direction.
Suddenly, Yin Feiyan stirred, her eyes fluttering open. Lan Zhuoran jolted, feeling as if he'd been caught in a private act. She blinked, noticing how close he sat. "I… didn't realize you were back," she said softly.
He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. "Just returned from the village. Didn't mean to disturb you."
She shifted, wincing at a twinge of pain in her arm. "No, it's fine. I must've dozed off." After a moment's pause, her gaze fell on the relic. "It's drawn your attention, hasn't it?"
Lan Zhuoran hesitated, but decided honesty was best. "It has. You've mentioned how dangerous it is, and… well, I've heard tales of advanced relics from older times. Stories my father told me. Is it something like that?"
A faint, sad smile crossed her lips. "Your father must have been well-versed in legends. This relic… it's part of a lineage of artifacts known as 'Systems.' They blur the line between technology and cultivation. In skilled hands, they can heal nations—or destroy them."
He absorbed her words, pulse quickening. "So it's true. These systems… I thought they were myths."
Yin Feiyan brushed a hand over the relic's covering as if to comfort it. "Some of them are real enough. This one is called Skyfire Protocol. My mentor discovered it in the ruins of an ancient city, hidden away to prevent misuse. He believed there might be a rightful heir out there, someone destined to wield its powers responsibly."
Lan Zhuoran thought of his modest training, the humble life in Baihe. If such a relic existed, could it truly fall into the hands of someone unscrupulous? He pictured men in black cloaks, armed to the teeth, tearing through the countryside for a chance to harness Skyfire Protocol's capabilities.
"Why you?" he asked softly. "Why did your mentor entrust it to you to deliver?"
She let out a weary sigh. "I trained under him for years, learning not just martial arts but also how technology and cultivation can intersect. He was confident I'd keep it out of the wrong hands. I… I just never expected to be ambushed so soon or injured before reaching the capital."
Lan Zhuoran frowned. "Could they have known your route in advance?"
"It's possible there's a traitor among my mentor's allies, or perhaps a spy in the capital. I only know that multiple factions would pay handsomely for this relic." Her eyes flickered with an old pain. "Some would kill entire villages to get it."
Her words struck him like a bolt of lightning. Lan Zhuoran pictured Baihe's simple wooden houses ablaze, neighbors fleeing in terror. A chill gripped him. "We have to go, then," he said, voice trembling slightly. "Tomorrow morning. We'll leave before dawn."
Yin Feiyan touched the bandage on her arm. "I can walk, albeit slowly. But you'll have to help me stay hidden if we encounter anyone on the roads."
"Of course," he replied, swallowing hard. In the span of days, his life had shifted from routine martial practice to a potential cross-country flight from ruthless enemies. Despite the fear, a flicker of determination glowed within him. He wouldn't fail in protecting her or the relic—no matter what dangers lay ahead.
They lapsed into silence, broken only by the crackle of the hearth. Outside, the village seemed to hold its collective breath. Tomorrow would bring the dawn of a new trial, one that might be the first step on a path neither of them had envisioned. And in that quiet moment, an unspoken bond seemed to form: they would face the unknown together.