Chapter 10: The Storm Behind His Smile

Chapter 10: The Storm Behind His Smile

Rain had not touched the mountain in years.

And yet that morning, thin veils of silver mist clung to the Spirit Valley as if mourning something long forgotten. Dew gathered quietly on the plum blossoms, and low thunder murmured beyond the sacred cliffs.

Luo Qingshen sat beneath the shade of an ancient tree, a teacup warming his hands. He stared toward the inner courtyard where the silver-haired girl lay resting—still unconscious, though her wounds had healed without medicine.

The sect healers claimed it was luck. One elder whispered it was fate.

Luo said nothing.

From behind him, footsteps approached—hesitant and loud. It was the kind of arrogance that thought it could walk among dragons.

"Senior Brother Luo," came the voice of Wen Ziyang, a senior outer disciple, his robe spotless and lips curled. "Is it true? You brought in that stray girl from the woods? She doesn't even have a cultivation base. Why bother?"

Luo did not answer. His gaze remained fixed on the far ridges where the clouds hung low, like chains draped over mountains.

Wen Ziyang scoffed and turned toward the girl's room.

"The sect isn't a charity, you know. People like her—"

A gust of wind cut through the courtyard.

And suddenly, Wen Ziyang staggered.

A terrible weight, unseen and ancient, pressed down upon him—like the world had tilted sideways. His breath caught in his throat. Knees buckling, he dropped to the dirt.

Luo Qingshen finally spoke, voice soft and calm.

"Leave."

The pressure vanished as quickly as it came. Wen Ziyang scrambled away, pale as ash, clutching his chest.

Luo returned to his tea. The mist had grown thicker.

Later that day, within the sect's elder hall, whispers stirred.

"Did you feel it? This morning—the Spirit Veins trembled."

"Impossible. They haven't shifted since the Azure Rebirth."

"Something is here. Or someone."

An old white-bearded elder unfurled a scroll, one written in faded celestial script.

"It matches the signs. Distortions in the veins. Natural elements reacting to unseen force."

"You mean the prophecy?"

Silence fell. One word lingered in the shadows.

Returned.

That evening, a hawk descended on the outer gates.

The sect master opened the sealed letter with steady hands.

It bore the crimson sigil of the Thousand Shadow Pavilion, an elusive and feared rival sect.

"To the caretakers of Skypierce Mountain—

A presence stirs within your borders. One not meant for mortal planes.

*We ask only this: Has the Hidden God returned?"

Meanwhile, Luo Qingshen walked alone along the moonlit ridge above the sect.

The air warped subtly around him. Lightning flickered behind clouds that dared not strike.

He paused, tilting his head.

From a nearby peak, a figure cloaked in black robes watched him, still as a statue. Their face hidden beneath a veil of talismanic seals.

Luo did nothing. Said nothing.

The figure turned and vanished into the mist.

Inside the quiet infirmary chamber, the silver-haired girl stirred in her sleep. Her fingers twitched.

In her dreams, a vast sea of stars stretched endlessly.

A voice—faint and warm—echoed across the void.

"Remember... you are not forgotten."

A name hovered on her lips.

But the dream faded.

And she slept on, beneath the quiet storm.