Xiao Xiao's consciousness drifted into the Offworld with the smoothness of long habit.The transition was almost seamless — the sensation of one world slipping away, the weight of another settling in.
The air here always felt cleaner, lighter, touched by the faint coolness of mountain streams.Above her, the sky stretched wide in a soft gradient of dawn gold.She stood on the worn flagstones of her assigned sect's outer courtyard, the vast, tiled roofs curving like the backs of great slumbering beasts.
Her robes today were a pale celadon green, the outer layer fluttering gently despite the absence of wind.A slender jade hairpin held up her hair in the neat style of a junior disciple.In this world, she was not merely Xiao Xiao the student.She was Disciple Xiao, outer member of the golden dragon sect — a sect known for its clean swordsmanship and strict adherence to the Dao of Balance.
It should have been an ordinary training day.But when she looked beyond the courtyard walls, she noticed something strange.
A thin mist lay over the distant footpath — a path she had walked countless times to reach the training fields.It wasn't just morning fog.It clung to the stones, unmoving, as though the air itself refused to let it disperse.
And beyond it… she could just make out a village.
She frowned.There was no village there.Not in any map, not in any elder's instruction.
Curiosity prickled at her.The Offworld had its own rules, its own fixed geography.For a village to appear where none should be — that was a sign.Either a sect illusion formation had been set up… or something far older was bleeding into the realm.
She tightened her grip on the hilt of her practice sword and stepped forward.Each footstep felt heavier the closer she came to the mist.It wasn't spiritual pressure, exactly — more like the air itself was dense, and reluctant to part for her.
When she finally crossed the threshold, the sound of the sect behind her muted instantly.Her breathing seemed louder, her heartbeat sharper in her ears.
The "village" was small — maybe two dozen houses, all built in the same grey timber, roofs sagging under age.But there were no people.Not even the sound of animals.
And yet… she felt eyes on her.
She turned sharply — but saw nothing.The empty street stretched ahead, each door closed, each window shuttered.
Still, the sensation remained.Something was watching from inside the houses.Not moving.Just waiting.
A faint shiver worked its way down her spine.
She did not stay long.There were rules for Offworld explorers, and one of them was clear — when you find a place that should not exist, you leave before it notices you.
The mist closed behind her as she returned to the courtyard, almost too quickly — as if the village had never been there at all.
That night, back in the real world, Xiao Xiao lay in bed staring at the ceiling.She told herself it was nothing — perhaps a test, perhaps a new training field.But she could not forget the way the mist clung to her skin, or the sense of stillness inside those wooden houses.
Somewhere, far across the city, Lau Rhen sat alone, his own mind lingering on the faceless creature that had appeared in his room.
Neither of them knew yet that what she had seen in the Offworld, and what had crossed into his world… were the same.
Lau Rhen's eyes remained half-closed as his consciousness threaded into the Offworld.He didn't need grand rituals or meditation beads — his control over Qi was far too precise.
Where most used slow breathing to align with the world's rhythm, he bent that rhythm to his own pulse.And once in, he did not enter the place his own consciousness had left last time.
No.He followed hers.
Qi was more than life-force.It was the world's nervous system, a lattice connecting realms.If one knew where to look — if one could read the faint pressure lines like rivers on a map — they could follow the resonance of another's consciousness like a hunter following a wounded deer through snow.
Xiao Xiao's signature was bright and clean, like a jade bell's chime in the fog.It didn't take long to trace her steps to the location she had visited the night before.
The mist was still there.Only… it wasn't mist.
Up close, Lau Rhen could see it for what it truly was — threads.Thin, hairlike filaments of pale Qi, drifting lazily as if stirred by invisible hands.
When he stepped into them, they clung — not to his body, but to his consciousness.They brushed against his mind with the faintest whisper.Not words.Just the texture of breath.
The village was the same size as Xiao Xiao had seen.Same houses, same sagging roofs.But here, in his eyes, the wood was damp and swollen, dripping with dark water that pooled in the dirt.
And the windows…
The windows were not shuttered.
They were open.Every single one.
He stopped in the middle of the street.Nothing moved.But behind each window, in the blackness of the houses, something was there.
Not human.Not beast.Shapes bent in ways no joints allowed, their outlines shifting just slightly, enough to tell the eye it should look again.Faces — if they could be called faces — had no symmetry.A cheekbone where an eye should be.A mouth that did not close.
They did not attack.They only watched.
For the first time in years, Lau Rhen felt the faintest brush of unease under his ribs.These things… they weren't reverted cultivators.They weren't Offworld beasts.They were something else entirely — something that the system of the world did not account for.
He turned to leave.
But the street was longer now.
The houses were closer.Windows tilted, leaning toward him as if to hear his thoughts.
He didn't run.Running meant showing the prey's back.Instead, he pushed through the threads of Qi, unspooling them with a thought until the real world slammed back into him like cold water.
His room was silent.Empty.
And yet…when he glanced at the window, for just a fraction of a heartbeat, he saw another open window looking back at him — from somewhere else.
The air in Lau Rhen's room still carried the faint scent of the Offworld — that strange mixture of old wood, damp soil, and something metallic just under the surface.He had been back for less than an hour, and yet he knew the night wasn't over.
The watcher had not followed him by accident.The open windows were no dream.He had felt the tether of Qi pull taut just before leaving, as if something — or someone — had marked him.
Across the district, Xiao Xiao's home glimmered faintly with resonance.Lau Rhen didn't need to see her to know she had entered the Offworld again.The Qi signature was sharper this time, almost hurried.
A less disciplined mind might have worried for her.Lau Rhen simply adjusted the rhythm of his breathing, let his own Qi sink into the hidden current beneath the normal flow of the world, and followed.
There was no slow settling of form, no gradual reveal of mist and sky.It was as if he had stepped forward in the real world and the ground had simply ceased to exist, dropping him into the other realm mid-stride.
The mist was heavier.The pale threads from before now glowed faintly, pulsing as if in time with a heartbeat that wasn't his.
He found Xiao Xiao in the village street.She wore the same pale blue ancient dress he had glimpsed before — fitted at the waist, sleeves flowing like river water.Her hair, pinned high with a jade clasp, caught the mist in a faint halo.
She didn't see him yet.Her gaze was fixed ahead, to the houses.
"They're watching again," she said softly, not to him, but to the air.
Lau Rhen moved closer without a sound.She didn't startle; she must have sensed him.Her eyes met his briefly — enough for him to see a flicker of relief beneath her usual calm.
"They don't attack," she continued, "but they're… closer than last time."
He said nothing.Words would only acknowledge the watchers.
The windows were all open again.Shapes shifted behind them.No movement was large, but every time the mist stirred, a shadow seemed to change position — just slightly closer to the frame.
The threads of Qi clung to his consciousness more insistently now.They weren't just brushing; they were pulling.
Then came the sound.Not loud — not even sharp.It was like the wet creak of wood under strain, drawn out until it almost became a groan.
The nearest window leaned outward by a fraction.The shadow behind it uncoiled.
A head emerged — or something that resembled a head.It was too long, too narrow, the skin stretched thin over a shape that wasn't bone.Where eyes should have been were deep, empty hollows.
It didn't leave the window.It simply looked.
Lau Rhen could feel the weight of its attention pressing against his mind — not as malice, but as a cold, impersonal curiosity.The way a scholar might examine a pinned insect.
Beside him, Xiao Xiao's hand tightened around the edge of her sleeve.Not fear — control.She was holding herself still.
Then every window in the village opened wider at once.The groan became a chorus.Dozens — no, hundreds — of heads leaned out into the mist.
None advanced.But each one tilted in unison toward Lau Rhen and Xiao Xiao.
The threads of Qi trembled violently.He realized with absolute clarity that they were no longer in control of their own link to the Offworld.
Something else was holding the line.
Lau Rhen reached for his Dao within the Offworld, the yang force that balanced Qi's yin.The moment he touched it, the heads retreated — not in fear, but in the slow, deliberate way a predator steps back when it no longer needs to chase.
The windows closed.The mist settled.
And then, from somewhere deep within the village, a voice that was not a voice spoke directly into their consciousness:
"You've both been here before…"