Deep within a dense, emerald-green forest, threads of pale white energy seeped from the air itself, weaving like invisible silk before flowing ceaselessly into the slumbering body of the young boy.
Xiao Xun'er watched with quiet delight as Xiao Yan became the epicenter of this invisible torrent. She took a careful step backward, her senses sharpening as she assumed a protective stance. One careless sound, one sudden movement, and he might be torn from this precious state — and that, she knew, would be a loss far greater than either of them could afford.
The breakthrough came with the ease of a river finding its way downhill. With each passing moment, Dou Qi surged through the air and into Xiao Yan's body, carrying with it a faint luminescence that settled over his features. The fatigue that had clung to his face like a shadow slowly dissolved, and in its place, his youthful features took on the soft, warm glow of polished jade.
For over an hour, the forest trembled with the quiet violence of Dou Qi's convergence. Then, like a tide retreating at dawn, the energy flow gradually subsided, and stillness returned to the small glade. The scorching rays of the sun filtered once more through the canopy above.
Xun'er let out a breath she had not realized she was holding. Xiao Yan's eyes remained closed, but his breathing had settled into a deep, even rhythm — the unmistakable sign of a cultivator who had crossed a threshold. A smile bloomed across her face.
"Finally, the ninth stage," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "Perhaps in another half year, Brother Xiao Yan will be able to condense a Dou Qi cyclone and become a true Dou Warrior."
She leapt lightly onto a flat boulder nearby, settling into a cross-legged position with her chin resting in the palm of her hand. Her luminous eyes never left his face as she waited.
...
When Xiao Yan opened his eyes, the sky had deepened to the amber hues of dusk. He blinked, momentarily disoriented, his mind still half-submerged in the fog of deep cultivation. Slowly, awareness returned — and with it, the sight of Xun'er, perched on her boulder, her figure draped in the gauze of golden sunlight. Their gazes met, and a quiet smile passed between them.
"Brother Xiao Yan, you're awake?" she called, her voice bright with unguarded joy.
He nodded, stretching his limbs as he rose to his feet. A cascade of sharp cracks echoed through the clearing as his joints popped and settled — the unmistakable sound of a body that had been remade in sleep. The sensation that followed was one he recognized intimately: the fullness of power, the feeling that every muscle, every sinew had been reforged at a deeper level.
He clenched his fist experimentally. A grin spread across his face.
"Did I... did I actually reach the ninth stage?" he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.
Xun'er laughed, a sound like wind chimes in a summer breeze, and nodded.
When confirmation came, Xiao Yan's grin widened — and then, almost immediately, shifted into an expression caught somewhere between elation and exasperation. The last time he had broken through, he had been sleepwalking. This time, he had done it while unconscious. The absurdity of it was not lost on him.
He threw a series of quick punches into the air, each one trailing a visible ripple of Dou Qi. The power behind them was easily triple what it had been mere hours ago, and he could not suppress a short laugh of satisfaction.
When the rush of excitement finally ebbed, he became aware of the darkening sky and the patient girl watching him from her perch. A guilty smile crossed his face — she had been here the entire afternoon, guarding him.
He snatched up his robes and dressed quickly, then turned to her with a teasing glint in his eye. "Shall we go? Today calls for a celebration. I'll treat you to a proper meal in Wutan City."
Xun'er's laughter rang through the forest as she hopped lightly from the stone, landing at his side with the grace of falling petals. "I want the most expensive thing on the menu!" she declared.
...
True to his word, Xiao Yan spent the rest of the afternoon escorting Xun'er through the winding streets of Wutan City, treating her to everything her heart desired before they finally parted at the gates of the clan compound.
Back in his own quarters, he collapsed onto his bed with a heavy thud, wrapping himself in the soft folds of his blanket. A smile lingered on his face as he stared at the ceiling, whispering to himself, "I'm almost a Dou Warrior again..."
"Ha! You have that little girl to thank for this breakthrough." The voice came from the shadows — ancient, dry, and unmistakably amused.
Xiao Yan lifted one eyelid to find Yao Lao's translucent figure seated in a chair that had not been occupied a moment before. "What does Xun'er have to do with it?" he asked, frowning.
"More than you realize. Without her presence, you would have needed at least another week to break through." Yao Lao's spectral form shifted slightly, his tone carrying the casual authority of someone who had witnessed a thousand such advancements.
Xiao Yan shrugged helplessly and buried his face in the pillow. "Nine stages now. To reach the Dou Warrior level, I'll need another six months at least..." He trailed off, and then, without warning, threw the blanket aside. His face, which had been alight with satisfaction moments before, turned dark — and in his voice, there was a blade's edge of cold.
"It's been over a year already, and I still haven't become a Dou Warrior. At this rate, three years from now... I still won't catch up to Nalan Yanran."
Yao Lao raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
"Nalan Yanran was chosen as the next sect master of the Yun Lan Sect. Her talent is extraordinary, and the sect itself is immensely powerful — with alchemists of the highest caliber at their disposal, including Pill King Gu He. If he were to aid her cultivation, her progress would not be slower than mine." Xiao Yan spoke as though reasoning with himself, his voice low and tight.
Yao Lao glanced sidelong at his pupil and saw the boy's eyes burning with an intensity that could not be ignored. A slow, knowing smile crept across the old man's face — but he offered no response.
Xiao Yan waited. When no answer came, he rolled his eyes in exaggerated frustration. The speech, it seemed, had been for nothing.
After a long silence, Yao Lao cleared his throat with deliberate slowness and rose from his chair. He paced once, twice, and then stopped, his translucent lips curling into a disdainful sneer.
"Gu He? A mere sixth-tier Alchemist — and he dares call himself Pill King? When it comes to the art of alchemy, what is he compared to me?"
A grin broke across Xiao Yan's face like dawn breaking over the horizon. He knew that tone — the quiet, dangerous confidence of his mysterious master. Yao Lao was ready to act.
"Go buy the materials tomorrow," Yao Lao declared, his spectral hands clasped behind his back. "Tch — Qi Gathering Powder? I'll refine so many of them you'll eat them like peanuts. Let's see if that Nalan Yanran has ever had such treatment!"