At Clearwater Hollow.
They arrived at dawn, when the morning mist still clung stubbornly to the thatched roofs and the air carried the earthy fragrance of wet soil and blossoming peach trees. The little village, tucked quietly at the foot of the mountain, had only just begun to stir awake. Roosters crowed in distant courtyards, and the muffled thud of a millstone echoed from somewhere down the lane.
The group of disciples made their way along the narrow stone path that wound past clay-tiled houses and small vegetable plots. Wenli's eyes lingered on the ordinary simplicity of the place. Smoke curled from a few chimneys, children darted barefoot through the morning fog, and elderly women hunched by the stream, washing clothes on flat stones. For a brief moment, the heavy weight of sect politics and academy rivalries seemed far away.
At the edge of the village stood the Xu family home — modest, sturdy, with its walls whitened by limewash and a small garden full of marigolds and beans. An old wooden axe leaned against the wall, and the faint creak of chopping echoed from the yard.
As the old woman bent to lift a heavy block of wood for splitting, XiMei's voice rang out, sharp and clear.
"Ma, Pa, what are you doing?"
The sudden shout startled them. The woman dropped the wood she was about to lift, while the axe the old man wielded slipped from his grip and fell with a dull thud. For a heartbeat, confusion and alarm painted their wrinkled faces. But just as quickly, recognition dawned, and their eyes widened with disbelief before shifting into radiant joy.
"XiMei? Is that you?" her mother gasped, her voice trembling between shock and hope.
"Ma, what have I told you about lifting heavy things?" XiMei rushed forward, scolding with the familiar tone of a nagging daughter. "You'll hurt yourself, but you never listen to me." She paused, her voice softening as if struck by something painful. "Remember, your back… you still have that severe pain. Has it healed yet?"
Her mother, Mrs. Xu, smiled despite the scolding, her eyes moist. For her, even being nagged was a blessing — it meant her daughter had returned.
Mr. Xu, the father, cleared his throat, his voice rough with suppressed emotion. "Why are you back, XiMei? I heard disciples rarely go on breaks. What happened now?"
Mrs. Xu quickly added, her brows furrowing. "Yes, dear, what happened? Were you expelled? No… I know my daughter. She would never do anything deserving of expulsion. Someone must have framed you, isn't that so? Ah, my poor child, you've suffered. Look at you — so skinny…" She reached out and cupped XiMei's cheek with calloused hands, her worry pouring out in every word.
The family of three was so immersed in their reunion that they seemed oblivious to the rest of the group standing only a few meters away. Wenli, LuPeng, Hualia, and Wen Ru watched silently, a mix of warmth and ache flickering across their faces. Each of them, in their own way, carried memories of someone they had lost or someone waiting for them elsewhere. All but LuPeng and Wen Ru, whose pasts left them with emptiness rather than someone to return to.
Then, as if jolted by realization, XiMei turned quickly.
"Ma, Pa," she said, gesturing toward her companions. "These are my friends. They've come to spend the days with us. We were granted a three-day break. You don't mind, do you?"
Her parents exchanged a look, then their faces broke into beaming smiles.
"You…?" Mr. Xu began.
"Where are our manners," Mrs. Xu exclaimed. "Welcome, welcome!"
LuPeng stepped forward with a polite bow. "I am LuPeng."
"I'm Zhao Wenli," Wenli said with a soft smile.
"Hualia," the maid bowed respectfully.
"Rong Wen Ru," he added, offering a courteous nod.
The Xu couple returned their greetings with equal respect. Turning to XiMei, her mother whispered, eyes gleaming, "Your friends?"
XiMei nodded proudly.
Mrs. Xu's face lit up even brighter. "Oh my, they are handsome… and beautiful too. XiMei, do you have anyone you wish to marry?"
XiMei's face flushed crimson. "Mom, you're hopeless!" she blurted, which made everyone laugh, the air lightened with warmth.
After their lively chatter, XiMei led her friends inside. The Xu house was small but neat, its walls adorned with handwoven mats and paper lanterns.
"Teacher LuPeng and Wen Ru, you'll share this room," XiMei said, pushing open a wooden door. Dust motes floated lazily in the sunlight pouring through the window. Boxes were stacked against the wall. "I didn't know Mom turned it into a storage room… I'm sorry."
"This is more than enough," LuPeng reassured with a rare softness. "You don't have to apologize." Wen Ru nodded silently in agreement.
Wenli and Hualia shared XiMei's room, where embroidered quilts and a faint scent of lavender filled the air. After settling down, they were called for breakfast — steaming bowls of rice porridge, pickled vegetables, and freshly baked flatbread.
The next day, the courtyard bustled with simple but lively activity. Wen Ru carried firewood in steady bundles, while LuPeng split the logs cleanly with each stroke of the axe. XiMei gathered herbs and vegetables from the garden, while Wenli stirred a pot over the small clay stove.
"You can cook?" XiMei asked curiously, watching Wenli move with surprising familiarity.
"Not much…" Wenli answered, her lips curving faintly. "I used to live alone, when I was at the university. So, I cooked for myself."
"Uni… what?" XiMei blinked, puzzled.
Wenli froze for a moment, then rephrased quickly, "It was a dream. In that dream, I lived in a different world, and in that world… I cooked. I want to see if I can still do it here."
XiMei tilted her head, not fully understanding but nodding anyway.
Everyone gathered for breakfast at the wooden table under the eaves. Laughter mingled with the clatter of bowls as they ate heartily, sharing stories both light and bittersweet. For a moment, the bonds of sects, clans, and burdens seemed distant — they were simply friends, simply a family.
Afterward, they cleared the dishes, Hualia humming softly as she dried the bowls. The morning sunlight was golden when suddenly — knock, knock.
The door rang.
"Did you invite anyone else?" Wenli asked, glancing at XiMei.
All heads turned sharply toward the sound. No one had been expected, and the Xu parents shook their heads just as bewildered as their guests.
XiMei moved instinctively to Wenli's side. Their eyes met — an unspoken message flashing between them: Whoever it is, if they mean trouble, they'll regret it.
The door creaked open. Standing outside were four men clad in immaculate white robes. Their hanfu shimmered faintly in the light, embroidered with intricate patterns of clouds and cranes, their flowing sleeves edged with silver thread. It was a scholar's uniform, refined and elegant, exuding authority — but not the same as those of Wangshou Academy. These belonged to another sect, another academy.
XiMei's tone sharpened. "Who are you?" Her gaze was as fierce as steel, enough to make even hardened rogues falter.
Before they could answer, Mrs. Xu stepped forward with surprising familiarity. "Let them in. We know them."
Every head in the room whipped around to look at the parents. Curiosity and tension rippled through the air. The disciples exchanged wary glances, their wariness rising — yet they held their tongues, waiting. They wanted to hear first what the old couple would reveal… before deciding how to act.