Zhang Tian had somehow flipped directions opposite Liu Mo Fei in his sleep—his head nestled against Liu Mo Fei's shin, arms wrapped tightly around the man's leg like it was a prized bolster pillow. One leg sprawled possessively across Liu Mo Fei's abdomen, as if in some unconscious attempt to claim territory with his thigh.
Liu Mo Fei, to his eternal credit—or total obliviousness—looked almost serene. His arm rested limply across his chest like a master lost in deep meditation… if one politely ignored the hand that had somehow drifted to rest over Zhang Tian's other hip, which was tucked beside him, as though he were grabbing some hard-won prize and absolutely refused to let go.
It was absurd. Absurd and utterly, delightfully perfect.
Jia Wei Xin clapped a hand over her mouth as a startled laugh bubbled out of her chest. She tried to stop, truly she did, but the combination of nightmare trauma and this ridiculous cuddle puddle was too much. Her shoulders shook with silent laughter until she was red in the face.
These two.
These proud, powerful, arrogant cultivators who could level mountains with a flick of their wrists…
…looked like they had fallen asleep halfway through a romantic drama.
And in that moment, her dream suddenly seemed… foolish.
A cruel distortion of her deepest fear.
Because no matter what her unconscious mind threw at her, reality was here—drunk, ridiculous, and wrapped in each other like dumplings.
She once thought she stood at the pinnacle too. At twenty-six, she was the youngest CEO of one of the fastest-growing IT companies in Asia, with a loyal team that felt more like family than colleagues. They had built something incredible together—late nights, wild dreams, breakthroughs fueled by caffeine and belief.
Then came the betrayal. The man she trusted with her heart—and her future—stabbed her in both.
"You need to resign, Jia. It's best for everyone."
His voice still echoed. Calm. Calculated. Cold.
In a single week, she lost everything. Not just love. Her job. Her name. Her comrades. The people she'd gone to war with in boardrooms and code sprints turned their backs on her, believing the lies. Believing she betrayed them too. Her fall wasn't just painful. It was public. Brutal. Complete. Like being exiled from her own life.
So yes. She knew what it meant to stand at the top… and to crash so hard the pieces no longer looked like a person.
But this moment—this ridiculous, tangled mess of limbs and loyalty—was nothing like that.
Because here, against all odds, she wasn't alone.
And this time, she knew the truth.
Zhang Tian had gone against everything he was raised to be—defying his demon sect instincts to save not just her, but even Liu Mo Fei.
And Liu Mo Fei, bound by duty and status, had crossed lines no sect leader ever should have, breaking rules for her without hesitation.
They bickered, they postured, constantly circling each other like wolves—but when it truly mattered, when everything was on the line… they both showed up. Without fail. Without question.
They weren't perfect.
But she absolutely trusted them.
With everything. With a certainty that resonated through her very soul.
She'd almost lost herself in that nightmare. The dream was a fear, yes. A lingering shadow from her past. But looking at the way Liu Mo Fei's brow furrowed in his sleep and Zhang Tian's hand twitched like he was fighting off a dream-ghost, she knew—
Even if the world did come for her, even if ancient bloodlines rose and prophecies screamed doom—
The reality is she wouldn't face it alone.
Not anymore.
And whatever happened next… they'd face it together.
Though honestly, she was half-tempted to just sit there and wait for them to wake up—if only to watch their expressions when they realized the full extent of their entanglement. If only she had a camera. Or a spirit mirror. Or literally anything that could capture this legendary moment for future blackmail purposes.
Cultivation scrolls be damned—this was the kind of artifact worth preserving.
She rose to her feet with a soft exhale and stepped toward the sliding doors, easing them open to let in the morning chill. A thin mist clung to the rooftops, silvering the tiles and softening the world. Beyond the trees, the peaks of the distant mountains pierced the sky like quiet sentinels.
Here, there was no boardroom. No startup shares. No press releases or betrayals waiting in polished shoes.
Just qi. Sky. And the scent of rain.
She leaned against the wooden railing, letting the air clear her thoughts. The pain from her old life was still there, etched into her bones—but it no longer ruled her. Not when she had new bonds being forged, one absurd cuddle disaster at a time.
And then—A flicker.
A ripple of qi, sharp and ancient, brushed her senses.
Not hostile. But old. Familiar in a way that made her skin prickle.
Jia Wei Xin straightened and scanned the treeline. There, near the edge of the mist, a figure stood—half-shrouded by fog and moonlight, as if the world itself hadn't decided whether she belonged to it.
She moved without sound. Her robes were simple, but the embroidery shimmered faintly with power. Her face was hidden beneath a gauzy veil, but her voice, when it came, was clear and low and resonant with memory.
"You've started to awaken," the woman said.
Jia Wei Xin's breath caught. "Who are you?"
The woman tilted her head. "They've begun to move. The old bloodlines. The ones who remember. They've sensed your lineage returning. Your presence stirs what was meant to stay buried."
Jia Wei Xin took a cautious step forward. "What do you mean?"
"You must recover the Shard of Xaen. Without it, your power—and your enemies—will consume you."
"Where—"
But the woman was already fading. The mist surged upward like breath drawn inward, and then she was gone.
No sound. No flash. No trace.
Just silence.
Jia Wei Xin stood alone in the mist.
The chill bit deep—but her resolve burned hotter.
The Shard of Xaen.
She would find it.
No matter what it took.