Morning Heat

Jiang's eyes opened to the dim morning light filtering through the wooden lattice windows. A dull ache throbbed at the back of his head—not unbearable, but enough to remind him of his restless night. 

He exhaled, rubbing his temples. 

Did I even sleep?

His mind refused to quiet down, thoughts looping endlessly. Old Jiang's memories weren't just invading his mind—they were becoming part of him.

Well, no use thinking about it now.

Clicking his tongue, he threw the blanket off and swung his legs over the side of the bed. The cold wooden floor jolted him fully awake.

Crossing the room, he picked up a ceramic ewer and poured cool water into the basin. He splashed his face, the chill clearing the lingering fog in his mind.

His reflection stared back from the bronze mirror—crimson eyes sharp, unreadable. He combed through his hair, straightened his posture, and reached for his martial robes.

The black fabric, embroidered with crimson patterns, felt smooth under his fingertips. He tied the sash firmly, adjusting the fit. The weight of it felt almost natural now.

With one last glance at the mirror, he turned toward the door.

Time to execute my plan for Chen Feng.

Jiang stepped out of the Senior Disciple's Dormitory, the morning air crisp against his skin. The path to Hall Master Rumei's residence was quiet, lined with tall bamboo groves swaying gently in the breeze. As he crossed the white stone bridge, his gaze lingered for a moment on a familiar path.

Isn't that the Junior Disciples' Dormitory...

His eyes narrowed slightly before he shook his head and looked away.

I'll talk to her later—now's not the time.

Continuing forward, he entered the training grounds of Hall Master Rumei's hall. The rhythmic sound of practice filled the air—steady footfalls, controlled breaths, the sharp swish of fabric cutting through the morning breeze. A group of disciples moved in perfect sync, their forms precise yet fluid.

Jiang glanced across the training ground, his gaze sweeping over the rows of disciples.

There are this many?

He absently counted a few.

Looks like they have more than the nepotistic Sword Hall.

His brows lifted slightly in surprise just as a familiar figure noticed him. Bai, standing at the front, turned away from the group and approached with a small bow.

"Young Master, are you looking for Master Rumei?"

"Yes. Where is she?" Jiang's gaze flicked right, then left, searching.

"She is finishing her morning practice. Please wait inside the Inner Hall," Bai said politely.

Jiang hummed in response and walked past the training ground, entering the Inner Hall. The room was quiet, the scent of faint incense lingering in the air. He sat down, waiting.

A soft knock came at the door moments later.

"Senior Brother, may I come in?" A young girl's voice.

"Enter."

A young female disciple stepped inside, carefully placing a tray before him—a cup of tea and a small plate of refreshments. With a respectful bow, she left without another word.

Jiang glanced at the tea, then at the door as it closed behind her.

Disciplined and well-mannered.

His fingers traced the edge of the porcelain cup as his thoughts drifted.

Old Jiang was too narrow-minded. All that branch and main family nonsense—wasting the potential of a high-grade support system.

He downed the tea in one go.

What a waste!

Exhaling softly, he set the cup down.

If I can form a faction with this many disciples…

Hmm… A squad…

His eyes sharpened slightly.

I should talk to Rumei about this.

Just as the thought settled, the door creaked open. 

Jiang glanced up.

Jiang Rumei stepped in, the morning light spilling over her, making the sweat on her skin glisten. Her martial robe was loose at the collar, the fabric slightly open, revealing the soft curve of her collarbone and a teasing hint of skin. Damp cloth clung to her body, outlining the toned lines of her waist and chest.

A bead of sweat trailed down her throat, disappearing beneath the half-tied sash at her waist. Her sleeves were pushed up, exposing her sculpted arms. but Jiang's eyes drifted lower—to where the hem of her robe had ridden up, revealing smooth, well-trained thighs. 

With each step, the fabric shifted, teasing more of her skin before falling back into place. Damp cloth clung to her thighs, tracing every curve as sweat glistened along her skin. The slit in her robe parted slightly as she moved, offering glimpses of firm, toned legs—just enough to draw the eye before the fabric covered them again.

Jiang's throat went dry.

She exhaled, rolling her shoulders, and the motion made her damp robe shift against her body. For a moment, the loose neckline slipped even lower, exposing more of her chest before she casually tugged it back—completely unaware of the effect.

His fingers twitched. His gaze darted away—then right back.

What the hell? A fan service scene right now?!

Jiang's heart pounded, a strange heat stirring inside him.

The f—? Heart, stop beating so fast. Even if she's not my real aunt, I still have the body of Old Jiang…

Stop thinking weird sh-t, damn it!

"I didn't expect you to visit me early in the morning, Shen'er," Rumei murmured, reaching for a cloth and bringing it to her face. 

She wiped slowly, dragging the fabric over her flushed cheeks and down to her neck, soaking up the sweat that clung to her skin. Without thinking, she lifted her arm slightly, dabbing at the dampness along her collarbone before trailing lower—wiping the sweat from the curve of her exposed armpit.

The movement made her robe shift, parting just a little more before she casually tossed the cloth aside. Her voice was low, slightly rough from exertion. "Why did you visit me?"

Jiang, still trying to force his thoughts back on track, opened his mouth—and his brain promptly short-circuited.

"You're looking sexy today."

Silence.

Rumei blinked.

Jiang blinked.

…The air froze.

Jiang's soul left his body.

F—. F—. F—. F—. F—. F—.

Rumei tilted her head slightly. "What?"

Jiang's brain crashed. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. His mind went blank, like a failed system reboot.

Her brows furrowed. "…Seksi? Saexi?" She tried to pronounce it, clearly unfamiliar with the word.

Jiang's panic hit a new high. His instincts screamed at him to fix this, fix this now.

His words tumbled out too fast. "You—uh—you look strong. Very strong."

Rumei's eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of confusion crossing her face.

"Why don't you change your clothes first?" Now, his voice was steadier than before, but there was still a slight edge of urgency.

Rumei frowned, visibly more confused. "But… if you visited so early, isn't it something important you want to talk about?"

Jiang exhaled lightly, keeping his tone smooth. "It is. But this can wait. Attend to yourself first."

Rumei stared at him, her confusion deepening. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she studied him—like she was trying to figure out what was wrong with him.

"…O-Okay," she said slowly, still watching him as if trying to decipher something.

Jiang exhaled subtly as she finally walked away to change.

The moment she disappeared, he ran a hand down his face, fingers pressing against his temple.

What the f— was that?

Jiang let out a slow breath of relief, his shoulders easing slightly.

I need to get my sh-t together before I dig my own grave.

A stray thought surfaced.

Is this what they call, "When he was needed the most, he didn't appear"?

Where the f— are you, Personality Speech?!