At the same time, inside the house,
Grandfather Shen's body jolted violently.
Before he was fully awake, his hand had already shot toward his chest, fingers closing around the familiar shape hidden beneath his robe.
The movement was instinctive, reflexive, etched into muscle and bone long before peaceful nights had ever been an option.
It wasn't thirst that dragged him from sleep.
Nor the dull aches of age that sometimes haunted his bones on cold nights.
It was something far sharper,an alarm honed through decades of hardship, of surviving when others hadn't.
Dense.
Heavy.
Unmistakable.
His aged eyes snapped open in the darkness, pupils contracting as his breath stilled in his chest.
For a brief moment, the old man lay perfectly motionless, listening not with his ears, but with the quiet awareness that had kept him alive long before Shen Yuan ever came into this world.
Then the realization struck.
This feeling... it is definitely...
Killing intent.
Inside my house...?
No.
The thought alone made my chest tighten, a cold pressure spreading outward from my heart.
The killing intent wasn't directed outward.
It wasn't hostile toward us.
But it was real,dense enough to seep through walls, heavy enough to tear an old man from sleep when even thunder no longer could.
And there was only one person in this house capable of releasing something like this.
Yuan'er...
My jaw tightened, teeth pressing together as unease settled deep in my bones.
Then I noticed it.
The house was silent.
Too silent.
My thoughts snapped instantly to the children.
Without hesitation, I rose from the bed, movements careful despite the urgency pounding through my veins.
I slipped into my outer robe and moved down the short corridor, easing the door to the children's room open just enough to peer inside.
Mo Fan slept curled on his side, one arm thrown protectively around the blanket as if shielding it even in his dreams.
Mo Ling lay sprawled messily across the bed, breathing softly, lips slightly parted,perhaps still chasing sweets in whatever childish dream held her captive.
Safe.
At least they weren't affected by it.
I exhaled slowly, forcing some of the tension from my lungs, but the pressure in my chest did not ease.
The killing intent was still there.
Lingering.
Frowning, I turned and headed down the corridor toward Shen Yuan's cultivation room.
My gaze hardened.
My steps were light but quick, controlled.
I had learned long ago that panic only dulled judgment,and dull judgment got people killed.
The door stood open.
Empty.
The room was empty.
My heart sank.
A cold thread crept up my spine, winding itself tightly around my thoughts.
Yuan'er... where are you?
As if answering my unspoken question, the killing intent pulsed again,faint, but unmistakable.
Not inside the house.
Behind it.
The backyard.
My grip tightened around the object hidden beneath my robe as I turned sharply and moved toward the back door, every sense honed, every instinct screaming that whatever I was about to see... would not be ordinary.
He moved toward the back door, pausing just before opening it.
His breathing slowed, each inhale measured, his body coiling unconsciously, like an old hunting beast sensing danger and preparing itself to strike if needed.
Then, slowly, he pushed the door open.
Moonlight spilled into the yard, pale and cold, washing over the earth like a silent tide.
And there he was.
Shen Yuan stood with his back turned, facing the sky.
At first glance, he looked no different than usual.
His hands were clasped behind his back, posture straight yet relaxed.
His head was tilted upward, as though he were simply admiring the stars scattered across the heavens.
But to Grandfather's eyes,
For one terrifying heartbeat,
A dense red mist coiled around him.
Not qi.
Not blood.
But something far more primal.
It writhed like living smoke made of malice and grief, clinging to Shen Yuan's silhouette as if it wished to swallow him whole.
The air itself seemed to thicken, pressing against the chest, carrying a faint metallic tang of blood that was not truly there.
Grandfather's heart skipped violently.
His grip tightened around the handle hidden beneath his robe, knuckles whitening.
Then,
He blinked.
The red mist vanished.
The yard was the same as it had always been.
Quiet. Still. Bathed in pale moonlight.
The grass stirred faintly in the night breeze, and only Shen Yuan remained, standing motionless beneath the stars.
Grandfather lifted a trembling hand and rubbed his eyes with the back of it, his brows knitting together in deep confusion.
A hallucination...?
A trick of old age?
The oppressive pressure eased, just enough for him to loosen his grip on the weapon, though he did not release it entirely.
Caution lingered in his bones as he stepped forward, boots crunching softly against the packed dirt.
"Yuan'er," he called, his voice low, careful not to startle.
No response came.
Shen Yuan remained perfectly still, staring at the sky as if transfixed.
Grandfather took another cautious step closer, his weathered boots making soft sounds against the dirt.
"Yuan'er," he called again, louder this time.
Still nothing.
The boy didn't even twitch, completely lost in whatever thoughts consumed him.
Unease crept back into Grandfather's chest, coiling tightly around his heart like a serpent.
This wasn't normal.
Even deep in meditation, cultivators maintained some awareness of their surroundings.
But Shen Yuan seemed completely disconnected from the physical world.
After a brief hesitation, weighing his options, Grandfather reached out and placed a weathered hand on Shen Yuan's shoulder.
He gave it a light, tentative tap, ready to pull back if needed.
Only then did Shen Yuan finally snap out of his thoughts.
Startled by the touch, my eyes snapped into focus as the world rushed back into place.
I turned quickly and saw Grandfather looking at me with concern.
"Grandfather?" I asked, genuinely surprised. "Why are you awake at this hour?"
For a moment, he didn't answer.
He simply looked at me.
Not a passing glance, not the casual look of reassurance,but a long, searching gaze, as though he were trying to see past my skin and into whatever lingered beneath.
My breathing was steady now. My pulse calm.
Whatever storm had raged moments ago had already been buried deep, sealed behind layers of restraint.
I made sure of it.
Grandfather's eyes lingered on my face, his brows faintly drawn together.
Searching for something he couldn't quite name or understand.
He studied me for a long moment, looking for cracks in my composure.
For signs of whatever darkness he'd glimpsed moments ago.
But I kept my expression neutral, controlled.
Whatever storm had raged inside me was now buried deep, sealed behind layers of discipline.
"...Nothing," he said at last, his voice easing slightly.
The tension in his shoulders loosened just a fraction, though wariness remained in his eyes.
"I woke up feeling thirsty. When I didn't see you in your room, I thought I'd check on you."
A reasonable explanation, delivered in a casual tone.
But we both knew it wasn't the whole truth.
His gaze drifted upward, following the direction of my earlier stare.
Toward the endless spread of stars overhead, countless points of light in the infinite darkness.
"What are you doing out here so late at night?" he asked quietly, genuine concern coloring his words.
"Why not sleep properly? You've been working hard."
I hesitated, feeling the weight of his question.
The memories stirred faintly in my chest again.
Faces half-forgotten by time, voices drowned in screams that echoed across years.
The lingering scent of blood that no amount of distance could erase.
My jaw tightened involuntarily for an instant.
Then I swallowed it all down, burying it where it belonged.
"Just... remembering some things," I replied, my voice low and carefully measured.
I didn't elaborate, didn't explain.
That was all I gave him, and it would have to be enough.
Grandfather understood immediately that I wasn't going to elaborate further.
He didn't press for details, didn't demand explanations I wasn't ready to give.
That was one thing I appreciated about him.
He knew when to push and when to let things be.
Instead, he stepped closer, coming to stand beside me in the moonlight.
Two figures beneath the vast night sky, shoulder to shoulder.
Like any ordinary family admiring the stars together.
The silence between us wasn't awkward or uncomfortable.
It was heavy with unspoken understanding, but warm nonetheless.
For a while, neither of us spoke, simply standing there together.
The night wind whispered through the trees beyond the yard.
Somewhere in the distance, a night bird called out once, then fell silent.
The world continued on around us, indifferent to our moment of shared quiet.
Then Grandfather broke the silence, his voice thoughtful.
"Yuan'er," he said slowly, carefully choosing his words.
I turned my head slightly, meeting his gaze in the dim light.
"I trust you," he said simply.
The words were few, but they struck deeper than any lengthy speech ever could.
They carried weight, history, meaning beyond their surface.
"Whatever you wish to do in the future," he continued, his tone gentle but firm, "think carefully before taking each step. Only move when you are certain of your path, and only act when you are truly prepared for the consequences."
His eyes remained fixed on the distant stars as he spoke.
"Even if it takes a long time to prepare," he added, "waiting is not a weakness or a failure. Patience is strength. Preparation is never wasted, no matter how long it takes."
Each word pressed firmly against my chest, settling into my bones.
This wasn't just advice.
This was wisdom earned through experience, through mistakes, through survival.
"A hasty step can ruin years of careful work," Grandfather said quietly. "A moment of impulse can destroy what took a lifetime to build. I've seen it happen to many good people."
He paused, then added, "Including myself, once upon a time."
I nodded slowly.
"I know," I said.
And this time, I truly meant it.
He reached out and patted my shoulder once again, firm and grounding, as if anchoring me to the present, to this moment, to this world.
"Alright," he said, letting out a quiet breath. "It's late. I'll go back to sleep. Don't stay out here too long. You've been cultivating hard,don't exhaust yourself."
"Good night, Grandfather."
He turned and walked back toward the house, his figure gradually swallowed by shadow until the door closed softly behind him.
I remained where I was, watching the place he disappeared into, a tightness lingering in my chest.
He knew.
Maybe not everything.
But enough.
After the house fell silent again, I lowered myself onto the cool ground beneath the moon.
The chill seeped through my clothes, grounding me, steadying the remnants of my racing heart.
I stayed there until my breathing and thoughts were fully evened out.
Only then did I stand again.
I summoned the system panel and opened the rewards section.
My gaze settled on the lone pulsing Blood Energy reward.
Without hesitation.
I clicked it with firm intention.
The moment the Blood Energy reward activated, my body reacted violently before my mind could even process what was happening.
It was as if a massive floodgate had been torn open deep within my chest.
Crimson power surged forth like a tidal wave, rushing through my heart with overwhelming force.
A torrential wave of scorching energy erupted from my chest, tearing through my meridians with wild abandon.
It flooded every corner of my body, reaching from my core to the tips of my fingers and toes.
My heartbeat thundered violently in my ears, each pulse echoing like a war drum calling soldiers to battle.
The world snapped into painful, crystalline clarity around me.
Every edge seemed too sharp, every sound too crisp and loud.
Every sensation was magnified far beyond comfort or normalcy.
My skin tingled with hypersensitivity, feeling even the gentlest night breeze like scraping blades.
I forced myself to exhale slowly despite the overwhelming sensations.
I planted my feet firmly into the earth, feeling the solid ground beneath me.
Calm, I commanded myself silently.
Control. You've done this before. You know what comes next.
Raising my hands deliberately, I began the first movement of the Primordial Star Refining Celestial Body Art.
My arms moved through the prescribed pattern, each gesture precise despite the energy coursing through me.
Above me, the stars in the night sky responded to my cultivation as they always did.
Invisible yet undeniably real, starlight began converging above my position.
It descended in thin, concentrated streams of celestial energy.
The starlight wrapped around my body like threads of a massive celestial furnace.
Igniting the blood energy already surging wildly beneath my skin.
Heat exploded throughout my entire being.
My skin flared bright crimson almost instantly, glowing as if molten metal had been dragged fresh from a blacksmith's forge.
The air around me began to shimmer and distort from the intense temperature.
The air around me shimmered, waves of distortion rippling outward as the temperature spiked.
First cycle.
The movements flowed smoothly at the beginning.
Each step, each turn, each measured breath guided the blood energy deeper, refining my skin layer by layer.
Pain followed, but it was familiar. Manageable.
Second cycle.
The heat intensified.
My muscles tightened, veins bulging as blood energy churned violently through my body.
Sweat poured down my back, soaking my clothes, only to evaporate before it could drip to the ground.
My breathing grew heavier, but my rhythm held.
Third cycle.
That was when I felt it clearly.
Resistance building up like a wall.
My body began slowing dramatically as if I were wading through thick, heavy mud.
Each movement demanded exponentially more effort than the last.
My bones creaked faintly under the internal pressure, audible even over my laboured breathing.
Tendons screamed in protest under the mounting strain as energy continued building.
The pressure was mounting from within, threatening to tear me apart from the inside.
The skin-tempering process had reached its absolute limit, pushing me to the very edge of what early-stage skin tempering could achieve.
To go further would require breaking through to the next stage entirely.
But I couldn't stop.
Not yet.
Not when I was this close to what I needed.
Tomorrow demanded strength I didn't yet possess, power beyond what should be possible at my level.
So tonight, I would seize that power by force, damn the consequences.