The sky over Duyin City had not yet cleared. Clouds still hung low, as if holding on to the sorrow left behind by the recent battle. Yet that morning, the streets began to stir. The townspeople came out carrying brooms, shovels, and buckets. They started clearing the rubble scattered across the roads.
Every head turned as the figure of Mo Tian walked slowly down the main street. Some citizens paused their work, others bowed in respect, their eyes filled with awe and deep admiration.
A middle-aged woman approached him, her hands trembling as she bowed, wiping away the tears she could no longer hold back.
> "Master Mo... if not for you... this city would've turned to ash…"
Mo Tian looked at her gently. "I only did what I could," he said softly, his eyes sweeping over the dusty street stained with dried blood. "It was all of you who stood your ground. You chose to keep standing."
In the distance, the allied forces led by So Lin He were seen retreating in order. They carried the emblem of their sect with solemn pride—a symbol that their mission was done.
Now, Duyin stood on its own, with a single light shining at its center: Mo Tian.
Children ran up to him, holding wildflowers freshly picked from the fields slowly turning green again. They offered the blooms to Mo Tian with innocent giggles.
> "These are for Uncle Hero!"
Mo Tian smiled faintly, kneeling to accept the flowers.
> "Thank you... But the true heroes are people like you—those who refuse to give up, even when the world seems to crumble."
A young man shouted, "We'll rebuild this city! Stronger this time... more alive!"
Cheers erupted at his words. Smiles began to bloom. For the first time, Duyin wasn't just standing—it was truly alive again.
As the sun dipped westward, Mo Tian wandered through a narrow alley near the marketplace. The scent of warm bread and bamboo shoot soup filled the late afternoon air. At a corner, he accidentally ran into two small figures.
A young boy with dark brown hair was walking while carrying a straw bag full of vegetables. Beside him, a narrow-eyed teenager chuckled as he bit into an apple.
Mo Tian stopped. His eyes widened.
That boy… Leon.
The seven-year-old looked up—and his eyes sparkled instantly.
> "Master...!"
His cry turned several heads. Leon dropped his bag and ran straight into Mo Tian's arms, hugging his waist tightly.
> "Master! Master! I thought you forgot about me…"
Mo Tian smiled—tired, but genuine. He knelt down, looking into the dust-streaked face of the boy.
> "Leon... I was worried. You suddenly vanished from the Pavilion and never came back. And here you are in Duyin, going to the market?" he chuckled softly.
Leon wiped his tears. "Sorry, Master. I was chased by three mysterious people. I got scared… Then I accidentally met Brother Tang Wu, and I stayed with him... for now."
Mo Tian fell silent. His expression grew serious. Leon was a bright child, a scholar-to-be under his wing. Hearing this, the tired emotions he had long held back began to rise.
> "Who were they, Leon?!" he asked, panicked.
Before the tension could grow, Tang Wu—who had been standing beside Leon—placed a hand on Mo Tian's shoulder.
> "For now, let's go home first. We'll talk over dinner," Tang Wu said calmly.
Mo Tian took a deep breath. His anger slowly subsided.
> "Alright... I'll follow your lead."
The sky turned orange. As the sun dipped near the horizon, the three of them made their way home—carrying stories, longings, and a bit of peace in a world not yet fully at rest.
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