Quinn stepped outside the Inn, the cold wind brushing against his face. He hadn't yet placed his mind on what had happened but one thing was certain — Zi had a lot of explanations to do for him.
The street lanterns glowed, casting faint shadows on the walls.
Then he saw him.
The boy stood a few meters away, clutching the wooden box tightly to his chest. His small frame trembled slightly under the moonlight, but his eyes were steady, fixed on Quinn as if waiting for him.
Quinn frowned. "Why are you still here? I told you to run."
The boy didn't move. "I knew you'd come out," he said softly. "You told me to go, but I knew you'd follow."
Quinn stared at him for a moment, his expression unreadable. "You're either brave or foolish."
"Maybe both," the boy replied, his voice barely above a whisper.
For a brief moment, Quinn's lips curved slightly — not quite a smile, but close. "Come on then. Staying here will only bring more trouble."
The boy nodded and quickly fell into step beside him. They walked down the dimly lit street, the silence between them broken only by the distant chirping of insects and the occasional rustle of leaves. The chaos from earlier already felt like a fading echo, but Quinn's mind lingered on it — and on Zi.
He tightened his hand at his side.
After a while, the boy spoke again, his voice hesitant. "My name's Li Chen."
Quinn didn't look at him. "Quinn."
"Thank you… for saving me back there," Li Chen said. "You didn't have to."
Quinn shrugged slightly. "I didn't do it for you."
Li Chen blinked in confusion. "Then why?"
Quinn's gaze stayed forward, his tone calm but distant. "Because I have to make up for what my sister did."
Li Chen's mouth opened slightly, but he didn't speak again. The look in Quinn's eyes, a mix of quiet anger and something far heavier — told him it wasn't the right time to ask more.
They turned down a narrow street, where the houses grew older and the lights dimmer. The road ended at a worn wooden gate, half-covered in vines.
Li Chen's pace quickened. "This way."
He pushed the gate open, the hinges creaking loudly in the silence, and hurried inside. The small courtyard beyond was dark, the scent of damp wood and dried herbs hanging faintly in the air.
"Mother?" Li Chen called out, his voice echoing slightly. "Mother, I'm back!"
No answer.
He frowned, glancing around. "She must be asleep," he muttered, stepping into the house. The lantern by the door was cold, long burnt out.
Quinn followed slowly, his eyes scanning the shadows. Something about the air felt wrong, even the quietness was too odd.
Li Chen called again, louder this time. "Mother!"
Still no response.
He moved quickly down the narrow hallway and reached a small room. Quinn heard the sound of his steps falter, then stop completely.
"Mother…?"
The word broke, trembling.
Quinn stepped inside — and froze.
Li Chen's mother lay on the floor beside the overturned table, her body pale and lifeless. The faint smell of blood hung in the air, dried and dark against the wooden boards. Her eyes were open, staring blankly toward the door.
Li Chen dropped the box and fell to his knees beside her. "No… no, Mother. This can't be, wake up!" His hands shook as he reached for her, his voice cracking. "Please—wake up!"
Quinn's jaw tightened. He crouched beside the body, his gaze scanning the wounds. A clean strike — swift and precise. Whoever had done it was a trained cultivator. His eyes caught something glinting faintly near her hand.
A small piece of crimson fabric.
He reached for it and turned it over, revealing an embroidered silver thread shaped like a phoenix.
"The Feng Clan," he said under his breath.
Li Chen's head snapped toward him. "What did you say?"
Quinn held up the fabric. "They did this."
The boy's face twisted in horror, his breathing turning ragged. "No… they wouldn't… They already took everything from us. Why—why her?!"
Quinn didn't answer. His expression darkened as he looked at the emblem again, his thoughts sharp and cold.
Even though the evidence was visible, he could not help but feel otherwise. If it were really the Feng Clan's doing, they wouldn't have left such vivid evidence.
"Li Chen," he said quietly.
The boy looked up, tears streaking down his cheeks.
"Listen to me," Quinn continued. "This isn't your fault. But from this point on, you can't stay here."
Li Chen stared at him in confusion and pain. "What do you mean? I can't leave her—"
"You can't help her anymore," Quinn said firmly, though his voice softened slightly. "It is pointless staying here. They could come back again for you."
Li Chen's lips trembled. "Then what should I do?"
Quinn rose to his feet, his aura faintly flickering beneath the surface. "You are leaving with me. For now, you will not leave my sight until this is all over."
Quinn's tone was calm, but there was an edge in his voice that allowed no argument. The air around him seemed heavier, colder, as if his presence alone could command the silence.
Li Chen wiped his face with the back of his trembling hand, his breath hitching. "Leave…? But where would we even go?"
Quinn glanced down at the lifeless woman once more. His eyes softened for the briefest moment before hardening again. "The truth is that I do not think the Feng Clan has something to do with this. Although, the evidence is here but deep inside, I feel there is something wrong."
Li Chen frowned. The evidence was there so what was Quinn trying to say?!
Sensing his trouble, Quinn sighed. "I'll explain while we return."
After a long silence between them, Li Chen moved his body. His hands trembled as he lifted his mother's body from the floor, his young shoulders straining beneath the weight of grief more than anything else. Quinn silently stepped beside him, lending his strength without a word. Together, they carried her out into the courtyard beneath the dim silver of the moon.
The air was painfully still— the kind that made every sound echo. Crickets sang somewhere in the grass, unaware of the heaviness that filled the small space.
Li Chen fell to his knees once they reached a patch of earth near the garden. The soil there was soft, the ground lined with withered herbs and the faint scent of flowers that hadn't bloomed in years.
"I… I can't do it," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I can't put her in the ground, not like this."
Quinn crouched beside him, his expression solemn. "She deserves to rest, Li Chen. Keeping her here will only make it harder for you."
Li Chen's fingers curled tightly into the dirt. His tears fell freely now, soaking into the earth. "She was all I had left… and now—"
Quinn didn't interrupt. He simply reached out and placed his hand over the boy's shoulder, firm but steady. "You're not alone anymore."
Li Chen looked up at him through blurred eyes. "Why are you helping me?"
Quinn's gaze shifted toward the grave they were about to dig. "Because I know the pain — the pain of losing someone dear to us."
They worked in silence after that. Quinn used his spiritual energy to harden his hands, cutting through the soil as though it were soft clay. Li Chen followed behind, clearing the loosened dirt with shaking hands. It took them the better part of an hour, the moon now high and pale above them by the time the grave was deep enough.
When they finally lowered her body into the ground, Li Chen's face was streaked with mud and tears. He knelt beside the grave, whispering a prayer under his breath — one only he and the wind could hear.
Quinn stood a few paces away, arms folded, his eyes closed briefly in silent respect. Death was nothing new to him, yet something about this scene — a boy burying his only family — pressed against his chest in a way he hadn't expected.
When the last handful of soil was placed, Quinn spoke softly. "She would want you to live."
Li Chen nodded weakly, staring at the mound of earth as if memorizing it. "I'll make them pay," he murmured. "Whoever did this, I'll make them pay."
Quinn's voice came low and steady. "Revenge can wait until we know the truth. If you act blindly, you'll end up just like her."
The boy swallowed hard but didn't argue. He wiped his face and stood, though his legs trembled beneath him.
"Come," Quinn said, turning toward the gate. "We need to return before dawn."
As they walked through the darkened streets, Li Chen clutched the wooden box tightly once more. The silence between them was heavy, but not empty — it carried unspoken questions and the faint rhythm of two lives momentarily bound by tragedy.
After a while, Li Chen broke the quiet. "Earlier, you said you didn't think the Feng Clan did it. Why?"
Quinn didn't slow his pace. "Because the Feng Clan are known for making pills. Few among them are fighters but they aren't strong, just like the ones I fought with. So whoever killed your mother is a skilled fighter."
Li Chen frowned, trying to understand. "Are you trying to say that someone else killed my mother? But why? I don't remember having issues with anyone else aside the Feng Clan."
"One doesn't need to have a specific reason when it comes to killing anyone or causing them pain" Quinn replied. His eyes gleamed faintly under the moonlight. "But whoever they are, they wanted us to see that emblem. Someone is trying to start a conflict between you and the Feng Clan — or between the Clan and someone else entirely."
Li Chen's fingers tightened on the box. "You think I'm being used as bait."
Quinn gave a faint shake of his head. "I do not know. But now that I'm involved... Something tells me that my peaceful days are soon over."
They continued walking, their shadows stretching long behind them. The first faint colors of dawn were beginning to appear on the horizon, brushing the capital's rooftops in pale gray.
As the Inn came into view, Quinn glanced once more at the boy beside him — his face streaked with exhaustion, his eyes hollow yet burning faintly with determination.
"Once we get inside," Quinn said quietly, "you rest. After that, we'll talk about what comes next."
Li Chen nodded silently.
And though neither of them said it aloud, both knew that this night — the night of loss and unanswered questions had bound their fates together in a way neither could yet understand.