It was a quiet afternoon.
The clear blue sky adorned the blazing celestial orb and was decorated with myriad pattern clouds.
"Thank you for the meal."
Kyorin clasped his hands as he began to eat his meal: a block of rice so dry it was like biscuits, and salty water with a single uncooked spinach leaf.
Though the textures were interesting, to say the least, they were still edible, and so he ate without restraint.
Watching him eat, Changli's face turned into a tomato as she turned away, facing the wall, god forbid what kind of turmoil her head was in.
This morning, she stirred the pot by preparing the meal. However, due to her inexperience, she failed miserably, resulting in a hard mass of dry, blocky rice, and a spinach chucked into the ocean water.
Normally, Kyorin handled the culinary aspect of this household, but Changli insisted that he let her do the work since his left arm was injured. She was still feeling guilty about that earlier outburst.
Kyorin naturally agreed, but it ended horribly. Changli could not even eat it, as she had developed her palate to enjoy delicious food after a year living here.
She thought, 'I have grown soft.'
She had previously resorted to eating warm rocks while in rags, but now, in riches, she had forgotten her roots.
Still, she gazed at Kyorin, who did not complain and ate it, as she thought, 'Is he truly undeterred?'
But even if she looked for signs of disgust, none were found. After some time, Kyorin finished the meal and said, "Whew, I am stuffed.
Changli looked at the empty bowl and thought, 'Maybe he is trying to be nice.'
She then called out, "Kyorin."
Kyorin gazed at her as she said, "You do not need to pretend." She expected him to react differently, but quizzically, Kyorin asked, "What is there to pretend?"
Changli frowned before thinking, 'Why is he so stubborn? Can he not say that he hates it?'
"Alright, alright, you are a better chef," she admitted in defeat, hoping for honesty, but Kyorin still did not respond as she wanted.
"Thank you," Kyorin replied before Changli let out a frustrated sigh.
"Can you... Leave for a while? I will take care of the house and dinner." She asked, seriously needing some space after what had transpired this morning until now.
"Sure."
With that, Kyorin had left the house that afternoon as Changli looked at the dirty dishes and sighed, "I should clean up before meditating a little," she decided.
***
Today was quite the day. Changli had been angry for a long time—not just at Kyorin, but at herself.
After becoming aware of his high Resonance control talents, she started to live unconsciously, even while awake, drifting from her path.
Knowing that someone close to her possessed something impressive had muddled her thoughts. Distractions became her compass whenever she faintly recalled Xunamiao's declaration.
This feeling of someone talented, especially someone so close, had made her jealous. That jealousy burned into a fire of rage and contempt, and she began to distance herself out of spite.
Eventually, she stopped distinguishing the nature of her actions, resulting in her junior brother getting harmed.
Fortunately, having a junior brother like Kyorin was a blessing for her as his words eased her fire of jealousy.
Even still, some of it lingered, partially in the form of tiny sparks.
However, Xuanmiao's sudden departure had luckily suppressed the tiny sparks before they could reignite the flame, as both Changli and Kyorin suddenly found themselves in each other's care.
Since they were the only ones left, Changli naturally thought of sharing the same roof. Though she was shy, she never considered it indecent.
She was just socially awkward. Besides, they shared a sibling-like relationship—siblings in name only, but siblings nonetheless.
This thought, like dawn dispelling the veil of night, cleared the fog of jealousy that had blinded her with anger.
She realized that the talent she had grown so attached to didn't belong to a rival, but to a friend—family.
As this understanding settled in, the last embers of her jealousy fizzled out. But soon after came another thought: 'Why had I become so blind?'
The explanation rested in the dynamic between them. As the eldest, she bore a quiet sense of duty toward her younger sibling.
But due to Kyorin's rapid growth and extraordinary talent, she had come to a helpless realization: he would soon surpass her.
And though that wasn't something to fear, what truly scared her was the thought of separation.
Changli assumed that once Kyorin became stronger, a vast gap would grow between them, eventually driving them apart.
She did not want that.
This was why having Kyorin as a younger brother was a blessing—for her and the martial, in-name-only bond they shared.
Kyorin was aware of her jealousy, but he also knew that Changli's anger wasn't born from jealousy alone.
After all, how could the good fortune of someone dear become a reason for envy? Even though it shouldn't be a reason for envy, it still was, making her feel worse.
Perhaps in a well-established household, maybe among royals or the powerful. But for a modest family like theirs, jealousy had no place.
Afterall, they relied on each other, and no one was there to take something from the other. Whatever they had, they were the ones to receive.
The jealousy had vanished as Changli's turmoil of an inferiority complex was lifted.
'I was foolish...' She realized.
She quietly murmured, "I have been selfish about our hierarchy, when it does not even exist for us."
Deluded by her ego, she had begun thinking: 'I am the older one, I should be the stronger one, and I must be the doer.'
Thinking back, this entire scuffle had begun when she started believing she was failing in her duty—a duty she had imposed upon herself. Perhaps that was the root of her undoing.
But now, as she began to regain control over her clouded emotions—learning to distinguish the true nature of her actions and decisions—she was starting to sober up, freed from the illusion of inferiority.
So what if she was lacking in some ways? Wasn't she still a powerful Resonator who could defeat Kyorin, the so-called greater genius?
She was still the stronger one. And even if Kyorin was growing, what did that change? They sparred daily, exchanging blows, but was that anything more than a simple martial exchange?
There was no need to speak of greatness in this context, so her worries proved unfounded.
As she reached this realization, her tendency to compare faded, clearing a path toward a freer, lighter mind.
Still, having left its mark, the anger had turned into guilt, prompting her to take on the task of preparing the meal as a sign of apology, which ended up in a disaster.
But determined to redeem herself, Changli asked Kyorin to leave for a while as she wanted to think about a recipe, well, that is, after her meditation.
But perhaps because of everything that had happened recently, she had lost track of time. It had slipped by like a passing breeze, and now evening had arrived, marked by the distant cawing of crows.
"—!!?"
Changli's deep state of meditation was disrupted by the caws of the crow outside as dusk had settled in.
'Shit!' she immediately got up from her meditation but that's when—Knock.
Changli froze. Kyorin had arrived at the doorsteps, and she had not even been to the kitchen for the whole duration after cleaning the dishes.
Knock
Another knock echoed, reverberating through her chest like a pulse of guilt. How could she face Kyorin now?
She imagined him standing outside, hungry. Her stomach growled in response, but she ignored it—her thoughts were only of her brother, waiting beyond the door.
With what little courage she had left, she rose to answer. But then… she stopped. Her hands refused to lift. It was as if all strength had drained from her limbs.
The guilt weighed heavily, such that even meeting his eyes felt unbearable. She feared failing his expectations, feared the weight of responsibility she no longer felt worthy to carry.
Perhaps it was because she had always been so strict about duty that now, failing it, she had become so weak.
She couldn't open the door. She turned away—but neither could she leave him out there. Caught between shame and helplessness, she slid down until she sat on the floor, leaning against the door.
Maybe, just maybe, he would come in on his own. Perhaps he would force the door open so she wouldn't have to be the one shamelessly receiving him.
She curled into herself, arms wrapped around her knees, her forehead resting on them. Quiet tears fell as she whispered, "I'm sorry, Kyorin."
***
Outside, however, upon her act of leaning against the wall. A certain thought came to Kyorin: 'She is still angry, wanting to create a conflict out of stubborn pride.'
At that moment, DEVA's voice echoed within him. "Does she not even want you to enter the house now?" she spat, laced with scorn.
The thought aligned with his brewing thought.
But then something clicked. His shoulders relaxed, and he let out a faint smile—not at her, but at the moment itself, as if recognizing it as yet another test the world had placed before him.
As the thoughts clicked, something had begun to become apparent. Hence, he decided to act, an act so unnecessary that it was perhaps beyond the expectation of this world—renunciation.
He left the house and left the weeping Changli. Though DEVA did not hear it, he heard her cries.
'Finally... I have received Karma of my actions,' he thought with a smile as he recalled that river where it all began.
A/N: Reference to Chapter 8: "The one who chases"
***
The streets of Hongzhen still glowed with the warm light of evening, bathed in a golden ambiance.
Amid the lingering bustle, Kyorin walked with the calm air of an ascetic, weaving quietly through the city's fading activity.
"Hahaha!"
The laughter of children rang out, high and bright.
"I'm telling you, I saw them—the Black Shores!"
"You're bluffing!"
A group of locals swapped stories of unexpected encounters at a food stall.
"Hey! What are you doing?"
"Whose brush was that?"
"Honey, I don't know what you're talking about!"
Domestic squabbles drifted from open windows—just another evening in the lively city.
"I don't need this torn piece of cloth!"
Someone tossed garbage from a balcony. A tattered crimson hood floated down and landed squarely on Kyorin's head, covering his visage.
The discarded crimson hood reminded him of the assailants that had once cornered him, faces sneering beneath the constraint mask.
As he walked, he passed an elderly woman with a frail frame. His gaze lingered for just a moment. On the nape of her neck, half-hidden beneath wisps of gray hair, was a small Tacet Mark.
The sight stirred something. Each encounter along the way—a burst of laughter, a quarrel, a mark—refreshed fragments of old memories.
Yet Kyorin said nothing. He adjusted the cloak around his shoulders. It hung loosely, worn, but functional.
Now veiled in red, he sneaked past the myriad people of Hongzhen, fading into the city's edge.
But as Kyorin exited the city, a silent observer had been watching from beyond the canopy of trees. The mayor of Hongzhen, Fu, recognized him from afar.
'Hmm... is he perhaps on a mission?' Fu wondered, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully.
Believing his speculation was right, Fu returned to his duties. A dull ache flared in his back, and he winced slightly.
'Maybe it's time to retire,' he mused, 'and let Xinyi take the mantle.'
***
Night flooded the sky like paint floods a canvas, the strokes of glimmering lines marring the empty, starry void.
The silence was dense, but not empty—it carried weight, like a pause between breaths.
Kyorin wandered quietly along the outer edge of Hongzhen, the city's sounds fading behind him, replaced by rustling trees and the distant creak of lanterns swaying in the breeze.
He hadn't yet found a place to rest. Still, he walked.
"Let's head back," DEVA suggested, her voice breaking the hush.
"Changli should be asleep by now," Kyorin murmured, eyes soft, distant.
And indeed, in the house behind them, Changli had fallen asleep—her tears exhausted, her breath uneven, curled like a child against the door.
DEVA said suddenly, "Let's break in."
Kyorin gave a soft huff through his nose. "Are we burglars now? Breaking into our own home?"
A pause.
"Home," he repeated, the word trailing off like smoke.
DEVA replied, "What if closing the door wasn't her true intention?"
Kyorin stopped walking and looked toward the moonlit house in the far distance.
"Even if that's the case," he said, "she still shut the door. That's the truth of the moment. We are not welcome."
Silence again. A wind stirred the trees. Somewhere, a bell chimed softly.
"Kyorin," DEVA spoke, voice gentler now, as though unsure. "What is happening? Everything... somehow it feels odd."
Kyorin didn't respond at first. He let her words hang in the air, swaying like the chimes above them.
He unhooked her from his belt, letting her return to her orb form. DEVA hovered before him, her gaze sharp as she said, almost certain, "I feel like something is very wrong here."
Instead of answering, Kyorin asked, "How so?"
"It's just that…" DEVA paused, struggling to articulate the sensation. "No—everything feels natural. Too natural. But why do I feel we're not seeing the full picture, like we usually do?"
"What is there to see? Besides, did we both not agree that Changli is guarding the door?" Kyorin asked.
To his answer, DEVA responded with suspicion, "Kyorin… have you done something I'm unaware of?"
"I've been with you the entire time," he said evenly.
"Please," she urged, "tell me. I know something's off."
"Nothing seems odd," Kyorin replied. Then, in a calm, quiet voice, he added, "The manifestation of this present came in silence. There was no bang. And everything we've seen so far… has happened before us."
DEVA hovered in silence, her orb pulsing faintly, as if reacting to something beyond them both.
"…Then why does it feel like we've stepped into a memory we didn't create?" she finally said. "Like we're walking inside someone else's dream."
"Well, I'm not sure about walking into someone's dream," Kyorin said with a faint smirk, "but I do hope we're not wandering into a wild beast's den."
He gestured forward toward an entrance barely visible in the shadows.
DEVA floated slightly ahead, her orb dimming. Her tone dropped."This place…"
Kyorin turned to her. "You know this place?"
"Yes. This is the dwelling of that Long—Jue." She stared at the threshold, her earlier suspicion replaced by a cold stillness as her gaze locked onto the darkened threshold.
Drip.
A single droplet of dew fell on Kyorin's head. He blinked.
The wind stirred once more.
A lone leaf skittered across the dirt path, spinning in erratic spirals before falling flat.
Kyorin looked up at the churning sky.
"Hmm," he muttered, "might be a thunderstorm."
Lightning crackled faintly in the distance—white veins across a charcoal sky.
To be continued...
***
A/N: Hope you like the new temporary cover page. Ahem, spoiler. Will revert following chapter.