The next morning began peacefully—until it didn't.
Tian Shen awoke to the familiar warmth of blankets, the distant chirping of birds, and the scent of tea leaves steeped nearby.
As usual, Little Mei had curled into his arm sometime during the night, and Feng Yin had risen early, as she always did, practicing her sword movements in the courtyard with her calm, graceful aura.
Everything felt tranquil.
Until it happened.
"BAAAAWK!"
The screech tore through the courtyard like a demonic shriek, followed by an explosion of qi so dense it rippled through the air and knocked a few tiles off the roof.
Tian Shen sat up abruptly.
"…Was that a chicken?"
Little Mei, bleary-eyed and half-conscious, muttered into his chest, "Mmm… chicken soup?"
Another explosion rocked the sect grounds.
Tian Shen threw on his robe and rushed outside, only to find Feng Yin standing motionless in the courtyard, sword in hand, staring skyward with wide eyes.
"…You're seeing this too, right?"
