(Also known as: How Chenglei Drank Soul-Tea, got a Talking Sword, and Faced a Growling Wolf Dad)
It began, as most unfortunate and unpredictable events in Xiulan's life often did, with tea.
Not just tea. Not something you sipped and went "Mmm." This was leyline-infused, soul-peeking, forest-conjured tea brewed from whispering leaves, moon-kissed water, and the slight giggle of an offended mushroom. Tea that hummed when stirred. Tea that quite possibly judged your life decisions. It even purred at your abs, non-existing ones or more.
Xiulan, eight years old and worryingly proud, handed a glowing cup to Chenglei, who had returned as promised—with slightly crooked flowers and very straight nerves.
"Drink," Xiulan said with all the mischief of a sprite pretending to be innocent. "It helps… open your spirit."
Chenglei eyed the cup. The liquid shimmered gold. A squirrel bowed to it. A butterfly landed on the rim. The butterfly promptly fainted.
"…This isn't dangerous, is it?" Please, do not let it make me fat, I hate fattening cabbages.
Xiulan smiled. "Only emotionally."
He drank it.
A heartbeat later, his entire meridian network screamed in operatic clarity. Visions slammed into him like spiritual poetry: his grandmother's soup recipe, the third aunt's fox-dancing techniques, Xiulan glowing like a spirit deity under moonlight, and a distant image of… a pig in ribbons?
And then—of course—came the thunder.
But not from the sky.
It came from the ground. From the forest. From the sound of someone's soul being judged.
A shadow moved beneath the trees.
Uncle Hei.
The massive white-furred guardian, who only ever left his grove when murder or mischief were involved, padded into the clearing. Beast form. Golden eyes. Absolute authority.
Chenglei flinched so hard he dropped the cup.
"This the one?" Hei growled.
"The one what?" Chenglei squeaked.
"The one sipping my cub's soul-infused tea like it's a roadside herb brew!"
Chenglei fell to his knees, hands up. "Sir! It was offered! I respect him deeply—platonically! With reverence!"
Uncle Hei's growl deepened. Somewhere in the trees, Duoduo the parrot cackled, "He's gonna get his legs blessed!"
Chenglei squealed and ran.
He ran like embarrassment could kill.
He tripped on a mushroom. Then a vine. Then on his own pride.
Back in the grove, Xiulan tilted his head. "...Maybe I should've used fewer whispering leaves."
Later That Evening
Xiulan sat cross-legged by a glowing spirit lantern, diary leaf in hand.
Leaf Diary Entry #426
Today Chenglei drank tea. Papa Hei chased him. The birds say I have officially began courting. I do not think that's how tea works.
Next to the entry was a stick drawing of a large wolf, a very flustered boy, and a teacup labeled "DANGER."
The Next Day
Chenglei returned looking like he had fought a pine tree and lost.
"I brought cookies," he mumbled, holding out a leaf-wrapped bundle.
Xiulan blinked. "Are these friendship cookies?"
Chenglei nodded solemnly. "Yes. And also, apology cookies."
Xiulan took them with reverence.
Nearby, Uncle Hei snorted from behind a rock. Baby Po, now in human form, peered from a tree branch.
"What's in the cookies?" Xiulan asked.
"Hope. Regret. And chocolate," Chenglei said seriously.
Xiulan giggled.
Then he looked at Chenglei's sword, still slung at his side. "That looks cold."
Chenglei blinked. "Well, it's a sword."
"I have something," Xiulan said suddenly. He pulled a thin reed of spirit bamboo from his sleeve and used it like a brush, drawing a small rune on a leaf with ink from a squirrel's pouch.
Warm.
Just one word. But the leaf glowed, thrummed, and shimmered like a tiny sun.
He pressed the rune gently to the side of Chenglei's sword.
The metal gleamed.
Suddenly, the sword warmed, softly glowing red—not hot to the touch, but… cozy.
"I didn't mean fire," Xiulan frowned. "But… oh."
The sword hissed faintly, a trail of steam rising as it lit a bush on fire nearby.
"OH!" Chenglei panicked. "It's a sword AND a heater!?"
Baby Po leapt from the tree and stomped the fire out, muttering, "You're lucky it didn't start singing too."
Xiulan, instead of apologizing, clapped his hands. "That's the best rune I've made this week!"
Chenglei looked at his newly fire-breathing, comfort-temperature sword and sighed. "I cannot take this to the sect. They will think I summoned a spirit beast."
"About that," Baby Po said, cracking his knuckles. "You have to leave soon, right?"
Chenglei's face fell.
"Yes. My master sent a hawk. I have been summoned back."
Xiulan looked up at him quietly, hugging his knees. "Will you come again?"
Chenglei's answer was immediate. "Yes."
Xiulan nodded. "Good."
Behind them, Duoduo, Auntie Viper, and Sage Brother Long-Tail whispered among themselves with wide eyes.
"The boy's got a sword that makes soup," Long-Tail muttered.
"Marry him now," Duoduo said. "Lock it down."
"Don't be ridiculous," Baby Po grumbled. "Lan-Lan has more sense than that."
Xiulan turned and narrowed his eyes. "I heard that."
That Night
The moon glowed high above the treetops.
Chenglei and Xiulan sat side by side, sipping slightly safer tea.
"I'll come back," Chenglei said again, gently. "I promise."
Xiulan smiled, then handed him one last item—a spirit pouch of carrot seeds with a rune stitched into the fabric.
"Plant them where you feel safest," he said.
"What'll they grow into?" Chenglei asked.
"I do not know. That is up to you."
Chenglei tucked the pouch close to his heart.
From the shadows, Uncle Hei watched… and said nothing.
Not this time.