Chapter 17: Warmth Between Storms
Morning in the Nine Gates Sect
The mists had cleared.
The walls were repaired. The younger disciples had returned to their daily routines, laughter slowly replacing fear. There were bruises, yes. Scars. But also pride.
Because they had survived.
And more than that — they had won.
Li Feng's Residence
A knock at the door.
Li Feng glanced up from his paperwork — reports, complaints, bills about rebuilding the east corridor, another petition from the alchemy division to allow spirit flame experiments again (he'd said no. Twice.).
The door slid open.
Shen Yun stood there holding a tray. A ceramic teapot, two cups, and something suspiciously fragrant under a cloth.
Li Feng arched a brow. "Tea?"
"Not poisoned," Shen Yun said with a straight face. "Probably."
Li Feng stared.
Then slowly… put his pen down.
A Rare Moment
They sat beneath the flowering lantern tree in the courtyard. The blossoms were white this time of year, fluttering down like soft snow.
Shen Yun poured the tea.
It smelled faintly of cinnamon and roasted barley. Warm. Toasty.
"What's under the cloth?" Li Feng asked.
"Sticky buns."
"…You made them?"
"No, Wei Lan did," Shen Yun admitted. "But I threatened to burn his favorite boots if he didn't give me some."
Li Feng actually laughed — a rare sound. Soft and brief, but real.
Shen Yun blinked. "Did… did you just laugh?"
"No."
"You so did."
"I didn't."
Shen Yun smirked. "I'm writing this down in my journal. 'Day 102: Sect Leader laughs. Apocalypse likely.'"
Li Feng shook his head but didn't argue.
He took a sip of tea.
It was good. A little sweet. Not too bitter. Comfortable.
Just like Shen Yun.
A Pause in the Conversation
For a while, they didn't speak.
Birds chirped softly in the trees. A couple of disciples ran past laughing, one chasing the other with a broom.
Li Feng looked at Shen Yun — really looked.
His eyes weren't as wide as before. His jaw was sharper. He carried his sword differently now — with confidence.
"You've grown," he said quietly.
Shen Yun tilted his head. "Because I'm taller now?"
Li Feng gave him a flat look. "…No."
"Oh, you meant emotionally."
"I'm going back inside."
"Okay, okay!" Shen Yun chuckled. "Seriously though… you really scared me, you know?"
Li Feng's gaze flickered.
"When?"
"When you collapsed near the Core Chamber." Shen Yun's tone lowered. "I thought for a second… you were gone."
Li Feng's hand tightened slightly around the cup.
"I'm fine," he said.
"You always say that."
This time, Li Feng didn't answer.
But Shen Yun didn't push. He just looked at the sky, sipping his tea.
"I don't want to lose anyone else," Shen Yun said finally. "Especially not you."
Li Feng glanced sideways.
"…You won't."
"Good," Shen Yun said softly.
Because that was enough.
For now.
Later That Evening
The courtyard lanterns were lit.
Shen Yun had somehow convinced the kitchen to send dessert. There were tiny rice cakes shaped like rabbits. Wei Lan came to complain, saw the sticky buns, and sat down without asking.
Even Elder Xun wandered over eventually, muttering about "lazy discipline," then sat on the bench and didn't leave for an hour.
Someone brought out an old guqin.
Someone else — probably Shen Yun — challenged Wei Lan to a dumpling-eating contest.
And for the first time in a while…
The Nine Gates Sect felt alive.
Not just safe.
Home.
That Night — Li Feng's Room
He stood by the window, robe loosened at the collar, watching the moon.
His fingers brushed over his chest.
The mark from the poison still pulsed faintly — asleep, but not gone.
But for tonight…
It was quiet.
And outside, under the soft glow of paper lanterns, the people he'd sworn to protect were laughing.
Living.
He let out a breath.
Then whispered, "…Just a little longer."
End of Chapter 17