"Thank you," Jia Lie Ao nodded respectfully. "What about you, Master Ning? Will you go to the Academy?"
"I will go," Yoriichi answered without a second of hesitation. His crimson eyes reflected the pale moonlight, shimmering with an unbreakable resolve. "The prospects there are vast. There are powerful opponents, ancient techniques, and the resources I need to forge my path. I can grow much stronger there."
He paused, looking at the young man who had just risked treason to help him. "Do you need me to take care of your clan's youths when they arrive at the Academy?"
Jia Lie Ao chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Hmm, I know a dragon cannot be confined in a small pond like Wu Tan City. You are destined for the heavens, Master Ning. You don't need to babysit them. If they can grow independently in that fierce environment, it is good for our clan. If they struggle and fail, then the clan's doors will always be open for them to return. That is the reality of cultivation."
Yoriichi nodded approvingly. It was a harsh but correct philosophy.
Silence fell over the waterfall once more, save for the rushing water. The conversation had reached its natural conclusion. Yoriichi prepared to stand up, but then he paused.
He thought about the ancient, black scroll resting heavily in his inner pocket. Battle Through the Heavens. He thought about his shattered katana in the forge, and the path he was about to carve into this new universe. He was no longer the arrogant Xiao Ning, but he couldn't completely sever himself from the family that sheltered him.
However, in the world of martial arts, a man needed an identity that belonged solely to his blade.
"Jia Lie Ao," Yoriichi said, his voice taking on a profound, solemn gravity.
"Yes, Master Ning?"
"Call me Yoriichi from now on. Understood?"
Jia Lie Ao blinked, completely taken aback by the sudden declaration. "Eh? Yo... Yoriichi? It sounds a little foreign. Why the sudden change?"
"Hmm... consider it a pseudonym," Yoriichi replied calmly, his expression unreadable. "A title for the martial path. If your clan elders ever discover your new techniques and demand to know the secret of who taught you, you will tell them that name. To the outside world, and in matters of the sword, you will call me by this name only. Okay?"
Jia Lie Ao didn't fully understand the reasoning, but the absolute authority in the older youth's voice left no room for argument. He stood up and offered a deep, formal bow.
"I understand," he said seriously, testing the foreign syllables on his tongue. "Master Yo... Yoriichi."
Yoriichi nodded gently.
They lingered for a few more minutes, with Yoriichi patiently answering a few technical doubts Jia Lie Ao had regarding the circulation of his Dou Qi during combat. Once the youth's mind was clear, they finally exchanged their goodbyes. Jia Lie Ao melted back into the shadows of the market, returning to his clan with a lighter heart.
Yoriichi picked up his basket of vegetables and began the long walk back to the Xiao Clan estate.
The night air was cool against his face. As he walked through the quiet, lantern-lit streets, he turned the name over in his mind. Yoriichi.
'Is this right?' he questioned himself internally, his hand brushing against the hilt of his Wind Sword. 'To reclaim my past name in a new world? I carry the blood of the Xiao Clan in this vessel... yet I feel absolutely no spiritual connection to the name Xiao Ning.'
He looked up at the vast, starry sky of the Dou Qi Continent. The memories of his past life—the demon slayers, his brother Michikatsu, the tragic, blood-soaked battles—they were not burdens to be forgotten. They were the very foundation of his soul.
'My past name suits me more,' he finally concluded, a profound sense of inner peace settling over his Dao heart. 'I am Yoriichi Tsugikuni. The Xiao Clan is my family in this life, but the sword I wield is my own.'
By the time he reached the towering iron gates of the Xiao estate, the market noise had completely faded. He walked through the familiar, manicured gardens, enjoying the absolute tranquility of the sleeping compound.
However, as he approached the entrance to his and his grandfather's private courtyard, his heightened senses immediately picked up a disturbance.
A young servant dressed in the gray robes of the main house was pacing anxiously in front of the wooden gates, wringing his hands together. The moment the servant spotted Yoriichi's tall figure emerging from the shadows, he practically sprinted forward, bowing so low his forehead nearly touched the cobblestones.
"Young Master Ning!" the servant gasped, out of breath. "Thank the heavens you have returned! Please, you must come with me immediately!"
Yoriichi frowned slightly, his hand instinctively resting on the basket of vegetables. "Calm down. What has happened?"
"It is the Patriarch, Young Master!" the servant urged, his eyes wide with nervous urgency. "He has summoned you to his private courtyard. Immediately. He said it is a matter of absolute, critical importance!"
Yoriichi's crimson eyes narrowed.
He looked toward the center of the sprawling estate, where the Clan Leader's compound sat cloaked in darkness. A summons in the dead of night, bypassing the normal channels of the First Elder? That was highly irregular.
'What could be so important at this hour?' Yoriichi thought, his mind racing through the events of the day.
Did Xiao Zhan discover the secret of the black scroll he had taken from the Pavilion? Did the guarding elder report his "foolish" choice, prompting the Patriarch to intervene and force him to change it? Or had something far more dangerous occurred within the clan's walls while he was at the Night Market?
"Lead the way," Yoriichi commanded, his voice cool and utterly devoid of panic.
He handed the basket of vegetables to the bewildered servant and adjusted the dark sash of his robes. As he followed the servant into the deeper, heavily guarded sections of the estate, Yoriichi's hand drifted away from the basket and rested lightly. Whatever the Patriarch wanted at midnight, he was ready to face it.