Chapter 85 – Fading Distance, Growing Flame
A gentle drizzle veiled the Liu Clan courtyard, turning every leaf into a shard of jade. The rain carried a fragrance of earth and herbs, the kind of quiet calm that followed months of relentless cultivation.
Under the garden pavilion, Anika sat cross-legged beside a low brazier, her raven hair damp at the edges. A teapot hissed softly, the steam curling between them like pale silk. Lin Xuan faced her across the table, his black eyes faintly glowing with that inner white light—quiet, unreadable.
They did not speak for a while. The sound of the rain filled the silence.
Anika broke it first, her tone gentle. "You've been spending more time with Yue'er lately."
Lin Xuan poured tea into her cup, his movements measured. "She's learning quickly. Her control over Soul Spark Revival has surpassed expectation."
Anika smiled faintly, not in jealousy but in warmth. "She reminds me of someone. The way she burns so brightly, even when she's afraid."
He looked up. "Someone from your past?"
Anika's gaze drifted beyond the mist, to where Liu Yue trained beneath the rain, violet embers flickering around her palms. "A friend or a brother figure," she said softly. "He was brilliant, but his heart was... heavy. Always walking ahead of everyone, yet never truly beside anyone." She traced a finger along her cup's rim, the tremor barely visible. "I suppose some paths aren't meant to be shared."
Lin Xuan studied her face—the faint sorrow in her smile, the strength behind it. "And yet you still look for him."
Her eyes met his, calm and deep. "Wouldn't you?"
He didn't answer. The rain slowed to a whisper.
When night came, the air turned cool. Lanterns flickered across the veranda, painting golden pools of light on wet stone. Lin Xuan and Anika remained beneath the pavilion, the world narrowing to the quiet between them.
She refilled his cup, fingers brushing his for a heartbeat too long. "Power makes us lonely," she said softly. "But it also keeps us alive. Tell me, when did you stop fearing solitude?"
He considered that, the glow of the lantern reflecting in his eyes. "When I learned it wasn't the same as emptiness. Solitude can be strength, if you learn to listen to it."
Anika smiled—small, real. "Then you've been listening for a long time."
A faint breeze stirred, carrying the scent of rain-soaked blossoms. In that moment, they did not seem like cultivators burdened by realms and destiny, but simply two souls sharing the same silence.
Days blurred into months, and months into a full year.
The Liu Clan thrived. The clang of weapons and the pulse of qi filled its courtyards from dawn until dusk.
Liu Yang stood at the training grounds, his Soulbrand Glaive tracing arcs of crimson light through the air. His movements were no longer clumsy or unsure—each strike carried rhythm and control. He had reached the 6th Layer of the Profound Heavenly Realm, mastering seamless transitions between weapons under Lin Xuan's strict eye.
Liu Yue trained in the garden, obsidian-violet flames swirling around her hands as she mastered the advanced forms of Soul Spark Revival. Each spark she conjured sang with life, flickering with delicate precision instead of raw power. When Lin Xuan corrected her stance, their qi resonated for a breath, harmonizing like two notes meeting in a single melody. She smiled more often now.
Luo Shuang had become the quiet anchor of their household. Her cultivation rose steadily to the 7th Layer, her understanding of alchemy and healing deepening. She spent her days tending the garden, her presence a calm that bound them all together.
Beyond Dawnriver, the Soul Lamp Hall had grown into a shadow empire. Merchants whispered their name in the Tier-3 markets, while nobles in Tier-2 kingdoms quietly hired their mercenaries. In Tier-1, even court officials sought their rare artifacts and silent protection. Under Xiao Fen's guidance, the Hall became both sword and shield—an unseen network that shaped the Southern Land's balance of power.
At the heart of it all, Lin Xuan remained the axis around which their worlds turned.
His cultivation reached the 8th Layer of the Profound Heavenly Realm, his aura refined and vast. Yet, in the quiet of his chamber, when the moonlight brushed the edge of his bed, his thoughts drifted not to conquest, but to the people who filled the once-empty halls of the Liu Clan.
Sometimes, when the night was long and the lamps burned low, he would step outside and find Anika waiting beneath the peach tree. They didn't always speak. Sometimes, silence said more.
"Do you ever wonder," she once asked, "if all this—teaching, guiding, building—might just be our way of chasing peace we've never known?"
Lin Xuan's faintly glowing eyes softened as he answered, "Then I'll keep chasing."
And she smiled.
Because for the first time in centuries, she wasn't chasing alone.
The year ended quietly. No grand wars, no heavenly omens—just the steady pulse of growth, the slow weaving of bonds stronger than steel.
In the rain-washed courtyard, Lin Xuan watched his family train and laugh beneath the dawn's pale glow. For a fleeting moment, the world felt still.
He closed his eyes, feeling that stillness settle in his chest like a promise.
> "This peace," he whispered, "I'll make it last."
And the wind carried his vow across the Liu Clan grounds—soft, resolute, and alive.