Snow fell lightly in the quiet valley, dusting the rooftops with silver. The Bai Clan's estate stood serene beneath the overhanging cliffs, the gentle hum of Yin Qi weaving through every courtyard like a lullaby.
Lin Xuanji(Mo Tianzun) sat beneath a flowering plum tree, a book in hand. The sleeves of his borrowed robes fluttered in the breeze. Though his posture was straight, his face looked unguarded—peaceful, even. Rest was a rare thing for him, and here, for the first time in what felt like years, he could breathe without bracing for a blade.
The Bai Clan was disciplined, yes—steeped in rules, traditions, and quiet restraint—but not cold. The disciples respected his silence. The elders gave him space. And the children… well, Bai Zhen never stayed quiet for long.
"Senior Xuanji!" the boy cried, running up the steps two at a time. "Come, quick! ElderSisterLanyue is making sweet snow buns! You have to try them before Uncle Heng eats them all!"
Xuanji blinked slowly. "…Snow buns?"
"They're white and soft and hot inside," Bai Zhen said with a grin. "And you like warm food, right?"
He didn't answer. But he stood.
In the courtyard kitchen, Bai Lanyue—one of the senior disciples—was already setting a plate of freshly steamed snow buns on the table. When she saw Xuanji approach, her expression remained calm, but her voice turned gently respectful.
"Senior Lin," she said. "Please, join us."
He hesitated for half a breath, then sat.
Bai Zhen stuffed a bun into his mouth, cheeks bulging like a chipmunk. "Mmm! So good!"
Xuanji picked one up. The dough was soft, the filling warm and sweet—made from spiritual pear paste, subtle and soothing. He didn't say a word, but Bai Lanyue caught the barely-visible softening of his eyes.
"I'm glad it suits your taste," she said.
Another disciple leaned over. "Senior Lin, do you usually live in the north? Your spiritual energy feels like… fire frozen in stone."
"I move often," Xuanji replied.
A younger disciple whispered, "He's probably a wandering immortal. He could be centuries old…"
"I can hear you," Xuanji said flatly.
The table fell into a flustered silence.
And then—he took another snow bun.
Laughter followed, light and surprised.
.
.
.
.
.
Later, Xuanji found himself seated beside the koi pond again, watching snowflakes disappear into the still water. Bai Zhen sat beside him, drawing pictures in the snow with a twig.
"You could stay here, you know," the boy said.
"…Ican't."
"Why not? You don't seem like a bad person. Grandfather said you even helped chase away a ghost."
Xuanji didn't reply right away.
"I'm not a person who brings peace," he said quietly. "People like me… don't get to stay in places like this."
"But you're here now," Bai Zhen said, looking up at him with wide eyes. "That means something, right?"
Xuanji looked into the still water, then at the plum blossoms swaying above.
"…Maybe."
———
In the elder hall, BaiQingshan stood before the ancestral tablets, his expression tight.
That energy… it had returned.
A power vast and burning, like molten gold trapped under heaven's lid. His bones remembered that kind of strength. But it did not belong to any name listed among gods, kings, or sacred cultivators.
It belonged to the unknown. The untold. Something forgotten… or hidden.
——
As dusk fell, bells rang gently at the valley gates.
One of the outer guards rushed into the hall, bowing hastily.
"Elder Bai! Four cultivators have arrived at the gate. They carry royal insignia. One of them claims to be the Crown Prince!"
The atmosphere shifted at once.
.
.
.
Xuanji was still by the pond, Bai Zhen fast asleep beside him, wrapped in a fur shawl. Snow veiled the trees in soft white silence.
Then—
Footsteps.
He turned.
Bai Qingshan approached slowly, but not alone. Behind him stood three figures dressed in elegant robes lined with silver, and one tall figure in deep royal blue.
Xuanji's eyes narrowed the moment he saw them.
The Crown Prince's gaze locked with his.
Liu Zhenhai froze halfway through the courtyard, his eyes wide.
"…YoungMasterXuanji?!"
Liu Fenglan's jaw dropped. "You are really here!"
Xuanji rose to his feet slowly, cloak sliding from his shoulder. "What… are you doing here?"
Fenglie stepped forward, stunned. "We thought you were dead."
"Iwas close."
No one spoke for a moment. The only sound was the snow slipping from the branches above.
"…You disappeared," the Crown Prince said, his voice low. "You were kidnapped by that man in black. We thought—"
"You came looking for me?"
"Of course we did, you idiot!" Liu Fenglan snapped, relief bursting past his formal tone. "You vanished without a trace. We—"
Xuanji turned away slightly, his expression unreadable.
Bai Zhen stirred at his feet, blinking sleepily. "Who are they?" he asked.
Xuanji looked down, then said quietly, "People I know."
The Crown Prince stepped forward again. His voice was calm, but there was tension behind his eyes.
"…Why didn't you try to contact us? You've been here all this time."
"I didn't want to drag this place into my problems," Xuanji answered, his tone turning distant.
"Too late," Bai Qingshan muttered behind him. "he found you."
———
The snow fell harder.
And somewhere in the deepest part of the Bai Clan's shrine, the ancient yin wards shivered—reacting to the presence of a force too vast, too sharp to be held within mortal ground.
Lin Xuanji stood still in the center of it all—between peace and storm, warmth and war.
He had no intention of staying.
But maybe, just maybe…
He wasn't quite readyto leave either.