( sight )
.
From the distance—while all attention had been drawn to the clash, the shock, the impossible wave that had spread through the clearing—
Sang Sang felt it.
Not with sight.
With something deeper.
Her fingers trembled slightly where they rested against her sleeve, the pale fabric brushing softly against her skin. The wind carried something new—something she had never known before. Not just warmth. Not just presence.
Color.
Her hand rose slowly.
Delicately.
And without warning—
She removed the cloth.
The thin strip of fabric slid free from her eyes, falling loosely into her palm.
"What are you doing—"
Zhang Lie's voice halted halfway.
FEI FEI froze.
Because at that exact moment—
Sang Sang's closed lids trembled.
Then—
They opened.
Gray.
Soft.
Unfamiliar.
Her pupils adjusted slowly, as though the world itself was too vast to take in all at once. Tears welled instantly, blurring her vision, sliding down her pale cheeks without restraint.
She didn't wipe them.
She couldn't.
Her breath came out broken—
"…FEI FEI…"
Her voice cracked, fragile, disbelieving.
"…I can see…"
A pause.
Her gaze lifted—unsteady, wandering—
"…everything…"
The sky stretched endlessly above her, painted in soft hues of fading blue and drifting gold. Leaves shimmered in shades she had never imagined—greens layered upon greens, light filtering through them like living glass.
"…the sky…"
Her fingers trembled as she reached forward slightly, as if trying to touch the air itself.
"…the colors…"
Her lips parted, her entire body shaking now.
"…everything…"
Silence fell.
Complete.
Utter.
Even the wind seemed to still in reverence.
Elder Mi's breath paused—just for a fraction—his sharp gaze fixed entirely on her.
The elders behind him stiffened.
Disciples stared, unmoving.
Because what stood before them—
Was impossible.
A blindness that no physician, no healer, no technique had ever touched—
Now gone.
As if it had never existed.
"Is it… true…?"
Zhang Lin stepped forward slowly.
Carefully.
His usual composure fractured by disbelief.
Sang Sang's gaze shifted—finding him.
Really finding him.
Her pupils adjusted again, focusing, tracing the outline of his figure.
"…you…"
Her voice softened, steadier now.
"…your robes are torn… the right sleeve more than the left…"
Lin froze.
"…there's blood… here…"
Her hand lifted instinctively, pointing—accurate.
Exact.
"…and your hair…"
A faint smile broke through her tears.
"…it's darker than I imagined…"
That was enough.
FEI FEI didn't wait.
She rushed forward, pulling Sang Sang into a tight embrace.
"Sang Sang—!"
Her voice broke completely.
The two sisters clung to each other, trembling, tears falling freely—not from sorrow—
But overwhelming joy.
Years of darkness—
Gone.
Just like that.
Their robes pressed together, soft fabrics brushing, trembling with each uneven breath they shared. FEI FEI's warmth wrapped around Sang Sang, but for the first time—Sang Sang could see it. Not just feel it.
She laughed through her tears.
A soft, broken sound.
"I can see you…"
And then—
Her gaze shifted.
Past them.
Toward him.
Zhang Wei.
He stood there.
Still.
Confused.
His gray robe clung lightly to his frame, wrinkled from the fall, slightly damp with sweat. His white hair fell loosely around his shoulders, strands catching the light like threads of silver. His blue eyes—touched faintly with pink—reflected uncertainty more than pride.
"…Wei…"
She stepped forward.
Slowly.
As if afraid he might disappear.
Then suddenly—
She embraced him.
Tightly.
Her fingers gripped the back of his robe, clutching the soft fabric as though anchoring herself to reality.
"…thank you…"
Her voice was barely above a whisper.
Wei stiffened slightly.
"…I… didn't…"
He didn't understand.
Not fully.
But he smiled anyway.
Softly.
Because she was smiling.
Because she was seeing.
And that…
Was enough.
Elder Mi watched.
Silently.
But his expression—
Had changed.
Not softened.
No.
Sharpened.
Danger.
That was the word forming in his mind.
Not admiration.
Not relief.
Danger.
His gaze lingered on Wei.
That boy…
That power…
If the world knew—
Kings would kneel.
Kingdoms would burn.
Wars would rise from nothing.
And if they could not claim him—
They would destroy him.
Piece by piece.
Until nothing remained but what they could use.
"This matter…"
His voice cut through the moment.
Cold.
Firm.
"…stays within this group."
The joy in the air faltered.
Reality returned.
Heavy.
Unavoidable.
Even the two elders behind him straightened immediately, their expressions turning solemn.
"…do you understand?"
They nodded.
All of them.
Without hesitation.
Because they understood.
Too well.
Elder Mi's gaze hardened.
"If any word of this leaves your mouth…"
A pause.
"…you will not see him alive again."
Silence.
Deep.
Crushing.
"…the boy will be hunted," he continued, voice lower now.
"…taken… broken… used."
Wei's fingers curled slightly at his sides.
His feet trembled.
"…medical vessels… experiments… tools…"
The words pressed into him.
Heavy.
Real.
His breath grew uneven.
Fear—cold and sharp—settled deep within his chest.
"Zhang Lie. Zhang Lin."
Elder Mi didn't look away from Wei.
"Take him inside."
His tone left no room for argument.
"From this moment onward…"
A pause.
"…he is not to be left alone."
The wind picked up slightly, rustling through the trees.
"…not a single scratch…"
His eyes narrowed.
"…because we do not yet understand what else he may become."
Zhang Lin stepped forward first.
Silent.
Steady.
Zhang Lie followed, his usual sharpness replaced with something heavier—protectiveness.
Wei didn't resist.
Didn't speak.
He simply walked between them.
Small.
Quiet.
His gray robe brushing softly against theirs as they moved.
Behind them—
The forest remained unchanged.
Birds called softly.
Leaves swayed gently.
Nature carried on—
Unaffected.
Unaware.
But within that small group—
Everything had changed.
The dining hall carried a low hum of life—bowls clinking softly, chopsticks tapping porcelain, muted conversations drifting like smoke between tables. Sunlight filtered through the carved wooden windows, laying warm patterns across the polished floor.
At the center of it all—
Zhang Wei sat.
Quiet.
Surrounded.
Sang Sang had changed.
Her robes now flowed in a dim blue tone, soft and elegant, the fabric layered like calm water at dusk. The color suited her—gentle, steady—but there was something else now. Something new.
Her eyes.
Open.
Seeing.
They moved carefully, curiously, drinking in every detail as though the world itself might disappear if she blinked too long. Yet despite that wonder—her attention remained fixed on one person.
Wei.
"Open your mouth."
Her voice was soft.
Familiar.
But there was a warmth in it now that hadn't existed before.
Wei blinked.
"…I can eat on my own."
He said it—but still leaned forward slightly.
Instinct.
Sang Sang didn't argue.
She simply held the chopsticks steady, guiding a small portion of food toward him. The motion was slow, careful, almost practiced—as though she had done this countless times.
Wei hesitated—then accepted it.
"…thank you…"
His voice was quiet.
Almost shy.
Around them—
People noticed.
They couldn't help it.
Eyes lingered.
Whispers stirred.
"…isn't she—"
"Wasn't she blind…?"
"How is she—"
"Miracle doctor, perhaps…"
The conclusion came easily.
It made sense.
In a world like this, miracles could be explained—if one tried hard enough.
So they accepted it.
Or pretended to.
But that wasn't what truly held their attention.
It was him.
Zhang Wei.
"The boy…"
"…he's too… cared for…"
"…always surrounded…"
"…look at him…"
Their gazes sharpened slightly.
Wei's skin was unblemished. His expression open—unguarded. His reactions… untrained. When something caught his attention, it showed immediately in his eyes. When he was confused, he didn't hide it. When he smiled, it reached too easily.
There was no edge to him.
No iron.
Not like the others.
Zhang Lin stood nearby—silent, composed, his presence sharp like a drawn blade. Sang sang leaned slightly against the table, arms feeding, gaze warmth but watchful. Even FEI FEI, gentle as she was, carried a quiet strength beneath her warmth.
But Wei—
Was different.
Soft.
Untouched.
Like something that had never truly faced the world.
A figure stepped forward.
An elder.
His robes were deep brown, embroidered with faint golden threads that caught the light when he moved. His steps were slow but deliberate, his presence carrying weight.
He stopped near Elder Mi.
Didn't lower his voice.
"Why does the Zhang family spoil this child so much?"
The words fell—
Clear.
Direct.
Unfiltered.
The hall quieted.
Not completely.
But enough.
Enough for everyone to listen.
Because they were all wondering the same thing.
Elder Mi paused.
His gaze shifted—
Not to the elder.
But to Sang Sang.
She was still feeding Wei.
Piece by piece.
Her movements gentle.
Her eyes—bright.
Grateful.
Alive.
For a brief moment—
Elder Mi's expression softened.
A memory flickered behind his gaze.
Of darkness.
Of silence.
Of years lost.
He exhaled slowly.
Then—
He smiled.
Faintly.
"The boy…"
He began calmly.
"…was born weak."
The words were simple.
Believable.
"He nearly died as an infant."
A few brows lifted.
"…the clan leader and his wife feared for his life ever since."
His tone remained steady, measured, controlled.
"…after that, they chose to keep him close. Protected. Sheltered from the outside world."
A pause.
"…that is why he is like this."
Murmurs rose.
Soft.
Understanding.
"…I see…"
"…that explains it…"
"…no wonder…"
The pieces fit too well.
Too neatly.
"That's why he feels so… pure…"
Someone whispered.
"…untouched…"
No one disagreed.
The elder nodded slowly, stroking his beard.
"…so this is his first time outside the Zhang estate?"
His tone carried curiosity—not judgment.
Elder Mi inclined his head slightly.
"Yes."
"…I thought it best to let him see the world."
A small smile.
"…as experience."
A perfect answer.
Nothing more needed.
Then—
The elder laughed.
Loud.
Unexpected.
"Well then!"
He clapped his hands lightly.
"If that's the case—"
He gestured casually.
"My daughter is around his age."
The hall stilled again.
"…why not a marriage alliance?"
Silence.
Complete.
Utter.
Even Wei froze mid-chew.
His eyes widened slightly.
"…huh?"
Zhang Lie's expression darkened immediately.
Zhang Lin's gaze sharpened.
FEI FEI paused.
Even Sang Sang's hand stilled slightly in the air.
Of all the things—
Not this.
Not here.
Not now.
Elder Mi laughed.
Smooth.
Controlled.
Deflecting.
"…let's discuss such matters another time."
His hand rested lightly on the elder's shoulder—firm enough to guide him away without offense.
"Come, come…"
He moved him along, their conversation drifting further from the table.
The tension eased.
Slowly.
But not completely.
Wei blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Then looked around.
"…what just happened?"
His voice was genuinely confused.
Zhang Lie let out a short breath through his nose.
"…nothing you need to worry about."
Zhang Lin didn't speak.
But his eyes remained on the direction the elder had gone.
Careful.
Calculating.
Sang Sang lowered her chopsticks slightly.
Then—
She smiled.
Soft.
Gentle.
"…just eat."
Wei nodded slowly.
Still confused.
But obedient.
Around them—
The hall returned to life.
But the whispers had changed.
Not just curiosity anymore.
But interest.
Calculation.
Possibility.
And at the center of it all—
Zhang Wei continued eating.
Unaware.
Unprepared.
And now—
Unintentionally becoming something far more dangerous than anyone had expected.