The garden was different now.
Once silent and still, it had started to bloom in unexpected ways.
Tiny white flowers appeared near the pond. The cherry blossom tree near the edge had begun to blossom out of season. Even the koi in the small stream swam closer to the Sage than they ever dared before.
And at the center of it all sat Lian Xue, humming softly, placing new petals beside the stone path.
She didn't know why she was smiling.
Maybe it was the warmth in the air.Maybe it was the way the disciples-in-shadow bowed to her, not out of fear—but with respect.Or maybe… it was because he was watching.
Not openly. Not obviously.
But every time she moved near the pond, every time she knelt to tend to the plants, she could feel his presence.
Like the moon behind thin clouds—subtle, cold, but always present.
The Sage stood at the far corner of the garden, hands behind his back, watching the wind move through the trees.
Lian Xue walked up beside him with a gentle tone.
"Do you like the changes I've made?"
He didn't answer right away.
But his gaze lingered on the freshly planted roses, the flowering herbs, the warmth that now danced through the space.
Finally, he said, "You've made the garden feel… alive."
She turned to him, head tilted.
"It wasn't alive before?"
He glanced at her. "It was still. Ordered. Balanced. Like a sword that's never drawn."
She smiled.
"And now?"
He looked around once more. The small vine curling up the wooden fence. The pink petal stuck to the tip of his robe.
"Now it's… chaotic," he murmured. "But beautiful."
She giggled. "That's the nicest thing you've ever said."
He turned slightly, but his face remained calm.
"You smile often," he noted.
She blinked. "Is that bad?"
"No. It's strange."
"Why?"
He looked at her, eyes deep like a storm that had finally stopped raging.
"Because I don't remember what smiling felt like."
She didn't speak for a moment.
But then, she walked to the edge of the garden, plucked a single white flower, and returned to him.
With delicate fingers, she tucked it behind his ear.
He didn't flinch.
He didn't remove it.
He simply stood there, letting it stay.
She whispered, "Then maybe… it's time you remembered."
That night, the Sage sat alone on the stone bench.
Moonlight spilled across the garden like silver ink. His robe shimmered faintly beneath it. The flower she placed behind his ear had withered slightly, but he hadn't touched it.
In his hand was a scroll.
Not one of cultivation. Not one of destruction.
It was filled with her handwriting.
Messy. Curved. Full of small hearts in the margins.
"Emotion cultivation."That's what she called it.
An idea so ridiculous, so mortal… and yet, so powerful.
The Sage closed his eyes.
And for a brief moment…
He remembered.
A battlefield.
Corpses everywhere.
His blade dripping.
His hands trembling.
And in the distance—his own reflection, standing alone, unreachable.
That was the day he realized:
He could kill anything… except his own emptiness.
Now, in this small garden, surrounded by flowers and foolish dreams, something inside him shifted.
He felt something again.
Small. Faint.
But it was there.
The next morning, she found him tending the garden.
Not with spiritual arts.
But with bare hands.
Removing weeds.
Watering the roots.
Touching the soil.
She gasped softly.
"You're… helping?"
"I'm preserving balance," he said without looking at her.
She laughed.
"No. You're being gentle."
He looked up. The sky was blue. The wind was kind. And her smile was like sunlight through cold fog.
"…Perhaps."
But peace never lasts long in the mortal world.
Especially not for those who shine too brightly.
That same day, news arrived.
The Grand Merchant Lian Zhen had been invited to a secret council—a gathering of the Twelve Great Merchant Clans. An alliance, they claimed. A unity pact. But Lian Zhen knew better.
It was a trap.
Lian Xue rushed to the Sage.
"They've called him to the capital. I'm afraid they'll try to remove him… silently."
The Sage placed down his watering jug.
"Then he shouldn't go."
"But if he refuses, they'll brand him a traitor. Cut off his trade routes. Collapse everything."
The Sage closed his eyes.
"Then let them try."
She hesitated. "Will you go with him?"
He opened his eyes again.
And said gently:
"I've already returned to the world once. I won't do it again unless I choose to."
She nodded. But her eyes were full of worry.
He walked past her.
Paused.
Then, very softly:
"But I will send someone."
That evening, one of his disciples stood before him.
The blind boy who could hear truth.
"Master," he bowed.
"There is something only you can do," the Sage said.
The boy smiled.
"Then I'll listen."
And so, without banners.Without armies.Without a sect's backing.
A boy with no eyes… walked into the heart of a corrupt world.
Carrying nothing but a single message.
"He sees you, even when he does not look."
Back in the garden, the Sage sat once more on the stone bench.
Lian Xue curled beside him, her head resting on the edge of his robe.
She didn't speak.
He didn't move.
But for the first time in a long time…
He felt no killing intent in his heart.
Just stillness.
And perhaps… something warm.