(Current timeline) One Year Later – Wutan City, Xiao Clan
The once-bright flame of Xiao Yan had dimmed.
Gone was the proud youth whose name echoed across the city as a rising genius. In his place stood a boy with tired eyes, clenched fists, and a silence that cut deeper than any blade.
Every day, he trained—twice as hard, three times as long.
He practiced when others slept, pushed his Dou Qi channels to their breaking point, meditated past the limits of endurance.
But the results never changed.
No breakthrough. No progress.
No light at the end of the tunnel.
At first, he thought it was temporary.
Then he believed he simply had to try harder.
Then… came doubt.
And finally—
Despair.
He stood alone in the training yard under moonlight, knuckles raw and bleeding from punching the stone post again and again.
"Why…?"
His voice cracked.
"Why am I the only one who can't move forward…"
He nearly broke that night.
---
No one knew how the rumors began.
Maybe a servant talked.
Maybe an elder overheard.
Maybe the world just couldn't look away from a falling star.
> "Xiao Yan lost his cultivation."
"So-called genius? A fluke."
"He's stuck at third-stage Dou Qi."
What started as whispers became open laughter.
The same children who once watched him with awe now mocked him.
Even within the Xiao Clan, the admiration had turned to pity.
Then to scorn.
> "There goes the fallen genius."
"I heard his Dou Qi vanished overnight."
"He was too proud anyway—serves him right."
The worst part?
It wasn't just the adults. It was the children, too.
Boys who once mimicked his footwork now showed off their own, grinning smugly.
Girls who once giggled from behind courtyard walls now giggled for different reasons—and not in his direction.
Among them—Xiao Mei.
The girl who used to run to him during festivals, calling him "Brother Yan" with wide, adoring eyes…
Now, she simply stepped aside.
Didn't speak. Didn't mock.
She just avoided him.
And somehow…
That silence hurt more than the insults.
---
At first, Xiao Yan clenched his fists and walked away.
Then—after the tenth time… the hundredth… he stopped reacting.
He began to ask the question that truly mattered:
> "If I'm not a genius… then what am I?"
And through the pain, the silence, the invisible war of a whole year—Xiao Yan began to change.
He stopped talking back.
Stopped trying to prove anything.
But he didn't stop training.
Even when it didn't work.
His eyes grew calmer. His voice steadier. His steps quieter.
The flame that once roared outwardly now burned inward—refining not Dou Qi, but something far deeper.
His will.
His character.
His soul.
---
That night, beneath the stars, he sat alone against the old clan wall. The moonlight spilled across the courtyard. He traced the edge of the ring on his finger.
He no longer expected it to respond.
"I guess… this is what humility feels like," he murmured, lips curling in a dry smile.
The breeze passed gently over him.
He closed his eyes.
> They laughed.
They mocked.
Even Xiao Mei turned away.
But I'm still here.
Still me.
---
Despite everything, his family never wavered.
His father, Xiao Zhan, would sit beside him for long minutes, saying nothing, just resting a firm hand on his son's shoulder.
His mother, Gu Wenxin, brewed bitter tonics he never requested, scolded him for skipping meals, and said quietly, "No flame burns forever. But the ashes… they can still reignite."
Xiao Diao, ever calm, offered silent support.
Xiao Li threatened to beat anyone who whispered his brother's name with disrespect.
And Xiao Ranyu, always innocent, always smiling… watched with knowing eyes.
It was because of them that Xiao Yan didn't break.
Not completely.
But inside…
A storm brewed.
---
Yunlan Sect –
Far atop Yunlan Mountain, Nalan Yanran stared at the sky, holding a scroll that never arrived.
A whole year.
No word.
Six letters sent. None returned.
At first, she thought he was busy.
Then—maybe angry.
Then... something was wrong.
It wasn't until she overheard senior disciples whispering—
> "That Xiao Yan kid lost his strength. Stuck at 3rd stage Dou Qi."
"Yanran used to write to him? Hah. She should let it go."
"He's useless now."
Her grip on the teacup didn't even shake.
But the next day…
A male disciple approached her—Liu Ling, personal student of the Dan King.
Handsome.
Talented.
And full of himself.
"You deserve someone who won't embarrass you, Yanran," he said with a false smile. "
"Why tie yourself to someone so… average?"
She looked him in the eye.
"I don't care about his cultivation," she said. "I care about him."
"But you're the future of the sect—"
"—and capable of deciding my own future," she cut in. "Also: call me Nalan Yanran. Not Yanran. We're not friends."
His smirk twitched. He walked away.
She didn't look back.
---
Later, she sat alone on a wind-blown cliff, her legs dangling over the edge.
Yun Yun arrived quietly. Her master. The only female Dou Huang in Jia Ma Empire.
"You didn't write today," Yun Yun said.
Yanran didn't turn. "He hasn't answered in a year."
"So?"
She blinked. "So what if he's… given up?"
Yun Yun sat beside her, looking into the horizon. "Then what? Will you give up?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because…"
She paused.
"…Because I still care."
Yun Yun smiled faintly. "Then go. When you're ready. Let the world whisper. It has nothing to do with you."
---
Wutan City –
The air shifted.
A light gust swept through the Xiao Clan gates, laced with Dou Qi. Servants paused. Disciples looked up.
Then—
A pale-blue spirit crane landed in the courtyard, glowing like cloudlight.
Upon its back stood a figure in white and blue. Robes embroidered with Yunlan Sect's sigil. Eyes sharp. Hair swept back by wind.
Nalan Yanran had arrived.
Heads turned. Words followed.
> "That's the Yunlan Sect's young master!"
"Is she here to break the engagement?"
---
Inside the main hall, the Three Elders were already waiting. Gossip, after all, traveled faster than wind.
They looked at her with polite smiles—and sharpened expectations.
"Miss Nalan," said the Great Elder smoothly. "We… assume you've come to settle the engagement. Understandable, given the boy's condition."
"It's nothing to be ashamed of," said the Second Elder.
"Wise, even," added the Third, smirking.
Yanran tilted her head.
"I didn't come to break anything," she said.
They blinked. "...Pardon?"
She stepped forward. "Xiao Yan may have lost his cultivation. But I haven't lost my memory. Or my principles."
"You value power over loyalty?" She glanced at them all. "Then no wonder your clan is declining."
Silence.
"And next time—" her voice cut like ice, "—speak to me. Not for me."
She turned and walked out, leaving the elders frozen.
---
Back Mountain –
Afternoon sun bathed the high grass. At the cliff's edge, Xiao Yan sat alone.
Dusty. Thin. Quiet.
He didn't look up when the wind behind him changed.
Then—
"You miserable, letter-ignoring coward."
He turned, just in time to see her hand slap his shoulder—light but sharp.
"Ow! What was that for?!"
"For ignoring me for a year! You ghosted me, Xiao Yan! What did you think I'd do? Sit here writing tragic poems like some hair-flipping maiden?!"
He rubbed his arm, stunned.
"I… didn't want you to see me like this."
"Like what?" she snapped. "Weaker? Sadder? Human?"
Then—without warning—she stepped forward and hugged him.
Tightly.
He froze.
His heart, slow for months, beat loud in his chest.
"I don't care how strong you are," she whispered. "I care that you're you."
He tried to speak, but she interr
upted:
"No more silence. If you fall, I'll pull you up. If you quit, I'll yell at you until you beg me to stop. That's the deal."
She looked up, eyes burning.
"So don't shut me out again."
Xiao Yan said nothing.
But then—
He smiled.
Genuinely.
And for the first time in a year…
It didn't feel so dark anymore.