Rekindled Memories

The shop lady's words made Bai Yunxi's cheeks flush with warmth.

The jewelry was beautiful, no doubt — but what truly caught her off guard was Su Kang's decisionto buy it.

Then, the lady called him her husband.

Bai Yunxi opened her mouth to correct her, but no words came.

Before she could react, Su Kang let out a brief chuckle, as if amused.

"Thank you," he said smoothly, his tone easy. "But we really should be going now."

He turned around and moved ahead, she in the end, followed him.

"Sorry," he murmured, his breath warm against her ear. "It was easier than explaining."

Bai Yunxi glanced at him. His expression was slightly stiff, an awkwardness flickering in his eyes that made her pause.

He really was embarrassed.

She didn't argue. There was no need to make a scene.

They walked through the crowded streets, the festive air wrapping around them like a warm embrace.

Laughter, music, and lanterns glowing in the night painted a scene of simple joy.

Bai Yunxi's heart tightened at the sight. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt that lightness — the freedom to simply enjoy life's small pleasures.

By the time they returned to the spiritual boat, the city lights had faded into distant dots scattered across the vast, dark sky.

Inside, the soft silence enveloped her — a quiet peace that seemed out of place, given all she had lived through.

Her thoughts turned inward, memories drifting back to her childhood in Qin City. She had been happy then.

Then, there was Li Xiao.

Her parents had always believed that marriage was the key to her future. They couldn't help her cultivate, couldn't guide her onto a brighter path.

Marriage to a cultivator seemed like the wisest choice.

But fate, it seemed, had other plans.

Her husband had died within a year, and her parents soon after—killed by his enemies. Everything they had sacrificed for her — the future they had envisioned — crumbled.

Now, here she was.

A widow at thirty-seven, with regrets that weighed more than she could carry.

Her eyelids grew heavy.

Hours passed before Su Kang finally entered her room.

He stood beside her sleeping form, his gaze lingering on her peaceful face. Moonlight traced the delicate curve of her cheek, casting faint shadows beneath her eyes.

'She looked… beautiful.'

The thought settled in his mind.

Sitting down beside her, he hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering just above her forehead. A faint pink glow flickered at his fingertips—a delicate light that pulsed softly.

He was going to show her a dream—a memory of their first encounter.

The dream unfolded, pulling her five years into the past.

At that time, Li Fang had just joined the Qingyun Sect, preparing to compete for an inner disciple position. He was about to turn fifteen.

Bai Yunxi had traveled twenty days to celebrate his birthday, carrying his father's robe—a gift laden with unspoken emotions.

Li Fang had been proud of it, but he told her not to visit again.

"Mother, it's dangerous to travel like this."

On her way back to Qin City, she stopped overnight in a small town to rest.

Exhausted, she had asked her maids to prepare a bath. The hot water soothed her travel-weary muscles, easing the tension in her body.

Then—the screams began.

Crashes—sharp and loud—reverberated through the inn.

Before she could react, the door exploded inward.

A red fire lizard—a second-level beast—burst through the doorway, its jaws gaping, fiery breath crackling in its throat.

Its oppressive aura crushed her, freezing her in place.

"This is how I die."

The thought clung to Bai Yunxi's mind—cold, absolute.

All the struggles of her life—the sacrifices, the loneliness—would end here.

Her eyes closed, resignation sinking in.

Suddenly, a strong hand gripped her waist, pulling her away from the flames.

The world spun.

Her wet body pressed against something solid, warm—broad.

Her heart pounded—a stark reminder of how close death had been.

The young man carried her effortlessly, a halberd gleaming in his other hand. With a single stroke—swift and clean—the beast's head thudded to the ground.

Bai Yunxi's breath caught.

A second-level beast… killed in one strike?

"Strange," he muttered, his voice calm, unaffected by the chaos. "How did it get inside the city?"

His tone was steady, almost indifferent, as if none of this concerned him.

It was only after he killed it that Bai Yunxi realized how little she was wearing—just a damp belly band clinging to her skin.

Her bare back pressed against his palm. Her chest—against his heart.

Heat flooded her face, shame crashing through the lingering fear.

"He… he must have seen everything."

The young man seemed to realize it too. He quickly set her down, his gaze firmly averted.

"Ah… sorry." His voice held a trace of awkwardness as he looked around the room—anywhere but at her.

Bai Yunxi didn't know if she wanted to cover herself or disappear into the ground.

Her maids were huddled nearby—frightened but unharmed.

Moments later, the city guards rushed in.

The young man floated toward the window, ready to leave without a word.

"Wait… your name?"

The words left her lips before she even realized.

The man paused, his gaze flicking over her flushed face—the trembling hands clutching her exposed skin.

"You're not asking me to take responsibility… are you?"

Bai Yunxi's breath hitched.

"I… You—"

"I wouldn't mind," he cut in, smirking.

Bai Yunxi's eyes widened, her tongue-tied protest dying in her throat.

Before she could respond, his low laughter echoed—then he vanished into the night, leaving only warmth and unanswered questions behind.

---

The next morning, Bai Yunxi awoke, the dream still vivid in her mind.

And then it hit her.

He was Su Kang.

The young man who had saved her all those years ago.

That was why he felt so familiar.

His awkward smiles. It all made sense now.

Heat crept up her neck as fragments of that night resurfaced.

She should be angry. She should scold him.

But… to do that, she'd have to admit she remembered.

"He mentioned I looked younger compared to before… such a shameless guy."

The more she tried to suppress the memory, the more it clung to her heart.

Bai Yunxi stayed in her room all day, using cultivation as an excuse to avoid him.

Su Kang noticed, of course.

"Too soon. I shouldn't have shown her that."

He had only wanted to give her closure—a small, subtle nudge to melt the walls around her heart.

Instead, she had shut herself off entirely.

---

By the next day, Bai Yunxi finally opened the door.

Carrying the breakfast tray with both hands, she hesitated before stepping toward Su Kang's cabin.

He was sitting by the window, staring at the endless blue skies. His posture was relaxed, but his eyes… distant.

She cleared her throat softly.

"Let's eat together."

"You can eat," he said lightly. "I'll have something later."

Without another word, she set the tray down and sat at the table.

Halfway through the meal, she finally broke the silence.

"Maybe… maybe we could stop in a city."

"I'll keep that in mind." His lips curved slightly into a smile.

As Su Kang and Bai Yunxi passed through a small town on their journey, the vibrant colors of its buildings immediately set it apart.

Houses painted in soft blues, warm yellows, and gentle greens gave the town a lively yet peaceful atmosphere.

The streets bustled with neatly dressed townsfolk, while children in clean yet simple clothes gathered near stalls, their laughter mixing with the scent of sweets in the air.

They walked at a leisurely pace, blending into the market's energy.

Su Kang glanced at various stalls, noting a few that might interest Bai Yunxi. But she remained reserved, merely following his lead.

Then, something caught his eye.

A wooden token lay on display, its surface carved with delicate words of gratitude, love, and appreciation—not for lovers or partners, but for parents.

He picked it up, running his fingers over the engraving.

The shopkeeper, a middle-aged man, noticed Su Kang's fine silk robes and hesitated.

Though he recognized the young man's uncommon status, a flicker of unease passed over his face.

Before he could say anything, two figures approached—a boy around sixteen or seventeen, followed closely by a younger girl, no older than thirteen or fourteen.

The siblings were dressed in worn but clean robes, the fabric patched in places. The girl's twin ponytails bobbed as she hurried behind her brother.

The boy clenched his fists upon seeing Su Kang holding the token, then turned toward the shopkeeper, a silent plea in his gaze.

The girl shrank behind her brother, gripping his robe tightly. Her twin ponytails swayed as she lowered her head.

The boy met Su Kang's gaze for a single defiant moment before dropping his eyes, his shoulders squaring protectively in front of her.

Su Kang took in the scene with quiet contemplation before breaking the silence.

"Is this not for sale?" he asked, his voice calm.

The shopkeeper hesitated, then finally spoke.

"This… was a commissioned piece," the man admitted. "These children left a deposit for this token some days ago. They were supposed to pay the rest today."