The wind in the valley blew once more.
But it brought neither cold nor heat.It simply… passed.Like the breath of a world beginning to awaken to itself.
Heng Zhen stood in the stone gap that separated the valley from the mountains.His final step felt like a period at the end of a long sentence called the old world.His face was calm, his body young—not because time had reversed,but because time no longer applied.
Lao Wen closed his eyes."I… can't see his Qi," he whispered.
San Lie lowered his head."I… can't fight him. Not out of fear. But because… there's nothing left to fight."
Li Rou trembled—not from fear, but because too much silence was speaking all at once.
Lu Wen stepped forward. His breath was heavy, but his steps were light.He stood one step away from Heng Zhen.
"Is this… still you?" he asked softly.
Heng Zhen looked at him—not with eyes, but with a soul that touched without touching.
"I don't know," Heng Zhen replied.
"But if the world has begun to answer…then maybe we no longer need to force the questions."
Yuanqi began to pulse in the valley.
Not forcefully, not overwhelmingly. But… precisely.As if it already knew who was ready, and who was not.
And Lu Wen—the boy who lost his world too soon—shivered.His chest grew warm.His eyes welled up.And deep within him… something brushed the base of a dantian not yet formed.
Resonance.
Not ascension.
Not cultivation.
Resonance.
As though a vibration from outside had found an echo within.
Lu Wen did not faint. He didn't shout a technique's name.He simply… sat. And cried. Quietly.
Li Rou turned. Around her, Yuanqi danced like specks of light.
Not because she desired it.Not because she called it.But because she accepted.
For a moment, the Chaosqi above watched.
It did not strike.It did not touch.It… observed.
As if even chaos was curious.
Lao Wen cleared his throat gently.He stepped beside Heng Zhen, standing like an old student unwilling to admit he had learned.
"I can't touch the Yuanqi," he said.
"Because you're still trying to touch it," replied Heng Zhen.
"Then… what must I do?"
Heng Zhen looked at the sky.Then at the earth.Then at his own eyes reflected in a thin film of water on the stone.
"Let go."
"Let go of what?"
"Something you don't even realize you're holding onto."
The sky remained blue.But that blue… felt unfinished.Like paint that had yet to dry on the canvas of existence.
And in the midst of it all, the world trembled softly.Not from power.
But because silence had found its echo in mankind.