The village atmosphere was tense with unease after what happened with Zhang Yi.
A strange silence filled the narrow streets; even the wind seemed to avoid passing between the houses.
Under the evening light, Mo Xing walked calmly toward his usual training spot, just a few meters away from his house.
He didn't need to go far—the space in front of his home was enough. Wooden equipment he built himself: short logs, poles tied with ropes, and a small board for rune testing.
The clan test had been postponed for another day, which only increased the tension.
Mo Xing didn't want to waste time thinking or listening to people's gossip.
All he wanted was to leave the chaos behind and train.
In this world, runes are everything.
Your grade and level determine your status, and those without a rune are treated as commoners, as if their fate was sealed at birth.
Only a few are born with rune talent—the rest are mere shadows of them.
For Mo Xing, who possessed only a first-grade Moon Blossom Rune, he was considered barely talented—closer to the commoners than to the ranked elites.
What troubled him most was that two years had passed without any real progress.
He stood before his wooden equipment and took a deep breath.
A strike... another strike...
He stepped back, then kicked hard at the wooden post.
The echo of wood resounded through the place, mixing with his ragged breathing.
As night fell, he was alone, as always. He never saw solitude as a burden; it was his companion.
Whenever he grew tired, he raised his hand and pressed the rune onto his body. "Heal..."
A faint light glowed from his chest, and a warm sensation spread through his sore muscles.
"Even though I'm not from a high level... I'll try again. If I fail tonight..."
He stopped. His thoughts clashed violently inside his head.
Confidence... doubt... anger... and that disturbing feeling of unease.
It felt like an endless battle within him, as if his own mind was a beast attacking him in the dark.
Then suddenly...
A faint sound—barely a whisper of wind passing his ear.
He froze.
No footsteps. No movement. Only that eerie sense... that someone was standing behind him.
He slowly turned around...
A tall man with long hair stood there, silent, observing the training tools as if revisiting an old memory.
Moonlight poured over his face, revealing a faint, unreadable smile.
The air around Mo Xing grew heavy, and coldness crept into his fingers.
"How did he get here without me sensing him?"
He stepped back, his body instinctively shifting into a defensive stance.
The stranger didn't speak. He moved slowly between the wooden tools, touching, observing—as if searching for something lost.
When he finally spoke, his tone was calm yet carried something strange—a mix of nostalgia and turmoil.
"These tools... they're exactly like the ones I used before... with your father."
A short, faint laugh escaped him, followed by a heavy silence.
Mo Xing froze.
He couldn't tell if he was dreaming or facing real danger.
He finally raised his voice, filled with tension:
"What are you doing here? Answer me... What do you want?"
No reply. Only that slow movement, the man's face still shrouded in shadow.
Then, in a low voice, as if talking to himself:
"Zhang Yi... No, impossible. He couldn't have regained consciousness this fast..."
Mo Xing frowned, tension rising.
He took a cautious step forward, ready to strike at any moment.
After a few seconds, the man spoke again, this time clearer, calmer:
"The tournament tomorrow... are you going to participate?"
The tone had changed—less tense, almost casual, though still unsettling.
"I will. Do you have a problem with that? Or did you come to preach nonsense like my mother?"
He said it with a challenging tone.
Zhang Yi sat up halfway, resting on his arms, staring directly at him.
His eyes were serious, his voice low but carrying an odd weight.
"Mo Xing... listen to me. I advise you not to join tomorrow. What I saw today in your ring—
I haven't seen it in one hundred and sixty years. The Moon Blossom Ru—"
Before he could finish, his voice was abruptly cut off.
"Mo Xiiing! You idiot, where are you?!"
A woman's voice called from the direction of the house.
He turned quickly—it was his stepmother, Han Xiao, walking fast toward him, her face tired from a long day.
"Are you here?! Things outside aren't looking good—come back home!"
He looked back again... but the man was gone.
Vanished as suddenly as he appeared. No sound, no trace—only an eerie chill lingering in the air.
Han Xiao stopped near him, noticing his tense expression as he stared into nothing.
"Are you talking to yourself again?" she muttered under her breath, then spoke louder:
"Come on, it's late. The weather feels strange tonight."
He didn't answer.
His eyes were still fixed on the empty space where the man had stood.
Inside him, a mix of caution and confusion. He wasn't afraid, but he knew something was very wrong.
Without thinking, he reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the house.
"What are you—?!" she gasped in surprise. It was the first time he had ever held her hand like that.
They walked back quickly.
On the way, she broke the silence with a light cough and said in a sarcastic tone:
"Am I your new training tool now?"
He didn't respond.
Just gave her a short, cold glance before continuing toward the door.
Mo Xing lay on his bed, sleepless.
Every time he closed his eyes, that scene replayed in his mind—the sudden appearance of Zhang Yi.
He turned to his side and exhaled sharply.
"He's a manipulator... trying to toy with me."
He muttered softly, as if afraid to hear his own words.
Yet deep down, he wasn't entirely convinced.
That man—his gaze, his manner, his cryptic words—everything about him felt different.
What did he mean by "the second time in a hundred and sixty years"?
What kind of madness was that?
Curiosity began to gnaw at his chest.
He wanted to know what Zhang Yi was hiding.
He raised his hand before his eyes, looking at the faint glow of the rune ring on his finger—the weak shimmer of the Moon Blossom Rune.
"Weak..." he murmured, firmly.
But even so, he didn't feel despair.
"Mo Xing! Wake up already, it's getting late!"