Renjia Town slowly awakened beneath the morning light.
Bluestone streets stretched quietly between rows of homes. Breakfast stalls opened one by one, wooden doors creaking as smoke rose into the cool air. Soon, voices followed.
Ordinary.
Yet alive.
Jiu Shu walked ahead with steady steps, his expression calm. There was a quiet dignity about him—something built over years of living among these people.
At his side walked Uchiha Mo.
His clothes were simple, even rough, yet his posture remained straight. Refined features. Controlled aura.
Even in plain attire—
He stood out.
"Morning, Jiu Shu!"
"Have you eaten?"
"Fresh buns—take some!"
The greetings came naturally, warm and unforced.
No hesitation.
No distance.
"Good morning," Jiu Shu replied calmly.
His tone was polite and measured, every response perfectly balanced—never distant, yet never overly familiar.
Mo observed everything in silence.
This—
Was connection.
Roots.
Trust.
Something the Uchiha had never truly possessed.
"Jiu Shu is well respected here," Mo said casually.
Jiu Shu smiled faintly. "We're neighbors. We help each other. Those who walk the Dao… protect the people."
Then he glanced at Mo.
"You must hold a position in your clan. Do you often interact with outsiders?"
Mo shook his head.
"There are rules. We stay within the clan. Most matters… remain internal."
"Understandable," Jiu Shu nodded. "But one should still see the world."
They stopped at a stall.
"Best soy milk in town. Want some?"
Mo smiled lightly. "Then two bowls."
As they waited, Jiu Shu pointed casually at passersby.
"This one—stubborn. That one—bad temper."
Simple words.
But behind them—
Years of familiarity.
"A cultivator cannot leave the mortal world behind," Jiu Shu continued. "If you cannot integrate… how can you protect it?"
Mo lowered his gaze slightly.
"Some burdens…"
"…cannot be set aside."
Their paths—
Were different.
Jiu Shu lived among the people, protecting them and earning their trust.
The Uchiha, on the other hand, had built the village, fought for it—
And yet remained distrusted.
Watched.
Restricted.
The Military Police seemed powerful.
But in truth—
They were bound.
Every move observed.
A trace of coldness flickered through Mo's eyes.
Yes, the Uchiha had flaws—pride, extremes, and their dependence on the Sharingan.
But—
He had lived twice.
Two lives.
Two worlds.
Merged into one.
He could criticize them.
But he would never allow outsiders to do the same.
If Konoha could not accept the Uchiha—
Then—
He wouldn't mind letting it fall.
"…Sigh."
Jiu Shu glanced at him, sensing something deeper beneath the surface.
But—
He said nothing.
They soon arrived at the teahouse.
White walls. Two stories. Western-style architecture.
Orderly.
Refined.
"Reservation?" the manager asked.
Jiu Shu hesitated slightly. "…No."
Mo stepped forward calmly.
"We're guests of Ren Fa."
The response was immediate.
"Please follow me."
Upstairs, the atmosphere changed.
Quiet.
Elegant.
Controlled.
By the window stood a man in silk robes, his smile measured.
"Jiu Shu."
"I've been waiting."
Then his gaze shifted toward Mo.
"And this is…?"
"Mo. A guest," Jiu Shu replied.
Ren Fa studied him carefully.
A flicker of dissatisfaction appeared—
Then vanished.
"Please—sit."
Polite words.
Measured tone.
Nothing revealed.
Then—
A voice rang out.
"Father!"
Clear.
Bright.
A young woman stepped into the room, her movements light and graceful, her dress elegant.
"Tingting," Ren Fa said with a smile. "Greet Jiu Shu."
"Greetings."
She bowed politely.
Then her gaze shifted—
Toward Mo.
Curiosity.
Unhidden.
"This is Mo. A guest."
She studied him for a brief moment, then bowed again.
"Hello… Mr. Mo."
And just like that—
The pieces—
Began to move.