The Spirit Valley grew quieter as night descended.
Mist rolled across the ground like a living thing, carrying faint traces of spirit energy that seeped into Lin Yao's pores with every breath. His body still ached from the trial, but beneath the pain, his cultivation base pulsed with unfamiliar strength. The Primordial Chaos fragment had not gone dormant. If anything, it felt more alert—watchful.
Lin Yao followed the sound of flowing water deeper into the valley, drawn by instinct rather than reason.
Soon, he arrived at a hidden spirit spring, nestled between ancient stone walls covered in glowing moss. The water shimmered faintly blue, its surface rippling with condensed spiritual essence. Even standing several steps away, Lin Yao could feel his meridians relaxing, greedily absorbing the energy in the air.
"This place…" he murmured. "It's perfect for cultivation."
He hesitated only a moment before removing his outer robe and stepping closer to the spring. But just as he prepared to sit down—
A soft splash echoed.
Lin Yao froze.
Someone else was already there.
From behind a veil of mist, a female figure slowly emerged from the spring. Long black hair clung to pale skin, water sliding down graceful curves illuminated by the faint spirit light. Her expression was calm, almost cold, yet her eyes—sharp and crystalline—locked onto Lin Yao with immediate alertness.
Neither of them spoke.
The air itself seemed to stop breathing.
Then—
"You shouldn't be here," the girl said quietly, her voice cool but steady.
Lin Yao immediately turned his head away. "I didn't know anyone was— I'll leave."
A brief pause followed. When he glanced back, she had already stepped out of the spring, now wrapped in a thin robe that barely concealed the lingering aura of spirit water clinging to her skin.
"You're injured," she said, her gaze flicking briefly to the dried blood at his shoulder.
"It's nothing," Lin Yao replied.
She studied him more carefully now, and her eyes narrowed slightly. "You're the one who awakened the Primordial Martial Soul today."
It wasn't a question.
Lin Yao's heart tightened. "So word spread that fast."
"This valley listens," she replied. "And so do I."
She introduced herself simply.
Su Qingxue.
An inner disciple.
A genius.
Someone whose name Lin Yao had heard whispered with awe—and fear.
She stepped closer, and with every step, Lin Yao felt pressure building in his chest. Her cultivation was far beyond his current realm. And yet… the Primordial Chaos fragment stirred, reacting to her presence in a way that felt oddly intimate.
"You carry something dangerous," Su Qingxue said softly. "Many will try to take it from you."
"I know."
"And yet you're calm."
Lin Yao met her gaze. "If I panic now, I'll die later."
For the first time, something like interest flickered across her expression.
She raised her hand, hesitated, then pressed her palm lightly against his shoulder. A warm, soothing energy flowed into him, threading through his damaged meridians with practiced precision. Lin Yao sucked in a breath, not from pain—but from the sudden closeness.
Their auras brushed.
For a brief moment, the Chaos fragment responded, sending a subtle pulse outward. The spirit spring trembled. Su Qingxue's breath caught.
"…What was that?" she whispered.
Lin Yao could feel it too. A resonance. As if their cultivations—no, their souls—had brushed against the same hidden frequency.
She withdrew her hand abruptly, stepping back. Her cheeks were faintly flushed, though her expression remained composed.
"You should leave the valley before dawn," she said. "Others will sense what happened here."
Lin Yao nodded. "Thank you. For the help."
As he turned to go, her voice stopped him.
"Lin Yao."
He looked back.
"This world doesn't allow weak men to keep what they desire," she said quietly. "If you want to stand beside someone like me one day… you'll need to become far stronger."
There was no mockery in her words. Only truth.
Lin Yao smiled faintly. "Then I'll climb fast."
Their eyes met one last time before he left the spirit spring, unaware that behind him, Su Qingxue remained standing in the mist long after he was gone—her heartbeat still unsteady, her cultivation faintly disturbed.
Far above the valley, unseen by either of them, the heavens shifted slightly.
Another thread of fate had been woven.