In the city, not everyone awoke after the terrifying presence faded away. Those who did considered themselves lucky, yet deep down saw themselves as unfortunate. However, one thing they all shared was the smell surrounding them, the smoke from burned homes. For some, there was something more, something uniquely disturbing and memorable, as striking as a hot iron branding their skin: a sweet, nauseating scent that made them vomit even before seeing its source.

  They were alive, but at what cost? And for how long? There were no answers for those questions, only fear. Fear of the cause. Fear of the silence. And fear of whatever might be watching them from afar, its face forever unseen. Would they have to keep walking along a dark, twisted path without knowing what awaited with each new step? Why? Was their life worth enduring such pain? Maybe not; maybe it would be better to put an end to it all... Yet, no one did, not even after seeing their friends, families, and loves lying cold and stiff, pale, or with hot, marked bodies, realizing they'd never see or hold them again. Everyone was afraid.

  The graves were shallow and numerous, but the tears were deep and alike, equally devastating and painful. Their bodies could take no more, be it the pain or the trembling, but having to watch the earth fall over faces often frozen or disfigured by fire, using their own hands to toss it, was the worst and heaviest trauma.

  Even so, they had no time to grieve in silence, though many wished for it. On one side of the city, houses had burned to the ground, while on the other, ice crystals shimmered in the sunlight but refused to melt. The contrast between heat and cold was stark, with the center remaining more temperate and the south being the least affected. Was the creature to the north of the city? Everyone wondered. That was why new homes were built ever further south, almost chaotically. Thus, rebuilding began, leaving no time to mourn or dry their tears, they would merge with sweat instead. They had to work fast, endure, bear the persistent stench that haunted every corner and dragged back fresh memories they tried to hide in their minds, always failing. Otherwise, how would they feed themselves? Half the crops and livestock were gone, and even after so many deaths, what remained might not be enough for the survivors.

  They wanted to live, even if they didn’t know how long they would last.

  To the northwest, once again, the smoke was brushed aside from the house with a wave of a hand, together with the stench of wounded beasts.

  A deep sigh echoed out.

  After watching the surroundings, the old man turned his back and returned inside the house which, strangely, remained as untouched as possible under the circumstances. Except for the room where Noah and Ting lay, nothing else was affected. The property’s atmosphere remained odd and unstable, swinging dramatically between heat and cold, but that wasn’t a unique phenomenon; it extended to the whole area around.

  Sitting on one of the chairs, he stayed alone and vigilant in the silent room. He feared something might be lurking amid the ice, among burnt logs, or worse yet, much closer than he expected. His sighs came faster with each passing moment.

  When will I fully recover if this goes on...? He clenched his fist weakly, deep in thought. That disorienting barrier won’t last much longer, and it’s useless against anyone at the Golden Core. The best option would be to rebuild the illusion barrier, but… Ling…

  Allowing his tense body to relax, he sighed. His hand came to rest on the table, and he began to drum his fingers against the wood.

  I can’t do this alone now.

  The tapping on the table ended as the old man stood up. He hesitated, glancing at the door. But after another brief sigh, he turned toward the stairs.

  Even after two days, the Qi of this place remains too strange most of the time. Trying to sit and cultivate is riskier than fighting to absorb crumbs of Qi little by little... Ling shouldn’t have had any problems, I hope...

  Stopping at the doorway, he looked back uneasily.

  No... She’s fine, I know she is.

  He shook his head, banishing the fear.

  As the door opened, his heart leapt in his chest and then stopped. Both body and mind froze.

  Long, reddish hair swayed in the breeze drifting in from the open window.

  — Ting’er...? — he tried to say, but failed. The words came out rough, barely a scratch, as if struggling for passage through a tight throat.

  As she turned, her green eyes sparkled in the light.

  — Uncle Fusu...? What’s with that look on your face? — she smiled — So much time has passed you had to change again?

  The old man’s legs trembled, but he didn’t stop. Though shaky, he continued onwards, reaching the bed and embracing her.

  Caught by surprise, Ting froze for a moment. Had more time passed than she realized? Though confused, she returned his embrace with trembling hands, clutching his loose, worn clothing. The fear was mutual, as was the happiness at her awakening. The tears both had been holding back finally fell in their shared silence.

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  Ting sniffled when they parted. She wiped her tears away with her sleeves.

  — For a moment I thought I had died, uncle. Waking up in such a desolate place, and with a stranger by my side... Who is he? The one you borrowed those clothes from?

  Fusu closed his fist lightly and bopped her on the head.

  — Don’t talk nonsense! Hmph! For someone who slept for 130 days, you sure have plenty of energy for jokes, don’t you think?

  She smiled.

  Her laughter faded, as if affected by the shifting temperature of the room. The cold energy overwhelmed the warm Qi — Has it really been that long this time...?

  — Yes... — Fusu stroked her head, worried he’d been too rough — But, thankfully, this will be the last time.

  — The last time...? — Looking into his eyes, the tears returned. She couldn’t understand why he smiled while saying such a thing, and no matter how much she wanted, she couldn’t voice all the words in her mind — So I...?

  — Didn’t I tell you not to talk nonsense? — he wiped away a tear that fell — This is the last time, because you won’t need to sleep like that anymore... You’re cured, Ting’er.

  — Me...? — She hesitated, but her joy did not, exploding in her chest. Yet, she didn’t dare believe it immediately. No simple joke would fool her. As she wiped away the tears, Ting smiled.

  That laugh, though, was heavy and cold. Fusu could feel the weight in each breath she drew.

  — ...That’s not a joke, Ting’er. From now on, you’ll really be fine... — he caressed her gently, containing his own anguish at her smile — He saved you.

  — He...? — Turning to Noah, she looked at him for a while. A young man who seemed her age, the idea he could have done something like that was hard, no, impossible to believe — How...?

  — I’m not sure, either, but the Frozen Flame isn’t with you anymore, is it? Do you feel anything?

  — I don’t know. I... Don’t...? — Her eyes darted quickly and incredulously from Noah back to her uncle — Is—is it really true...? Uncle Fusu, I...

  He nodded.

  She should cry, she knew, and her cocktail of emotions urged it. But Ting couldn’t. Only a single tear, and only with effort, was left. Maybe the rest had been shed moments before? No. After so long, she’d already cried more than enough; repeating it now had no meaning. At a time like this, to smile was the best answer. The desolate scene before her now seemed wondrous. The cold wind on her face felt magical and, oddly, warm, cozy. She saw beyond the ruined trees, picturing streets she could walk again, places she’d visit, people she’d meet. She could finally live.

  Fusu looked away. Noah’s face reminded him of his own words and thoughts, but they clogged in his throat, struggling not to come out.

  — But... — he forced himself to say, in a hoarse whisper — there’s a problem.

  Her smile faded slowly, though her feelings remained. She refused to give up her newfound hope and dreams.

  — A problem...? What is it?

  — This boy, he asked for something in return for saving you... — Fusu glanced away, unable to meet her eyes. He’d failed, and now he had to give her away to someone else to keep her safe — You.

  Or was it just an excuse to send her away? Something he’d wanted for a long time... He wished he didn’t have such doubts, but couldn’t deceive himself.

  — Me...? — She turned to Noah, lost in thought. Part of her freedom seemed to hang by a thread, but not her life. Given time, all she planned could still be realized, just not alone, and maybe that wasn’t so bad. She reconsidered, determined to see things positively, yet she also weighed the alternative — Are you saying as a slave—? — she couldn’t finish the word. It refused to come, no matter how clear it was in her mind — Or a companion...?

  — Don’t ask stupid questions! I never would have agreed to anything like that.

  — I know... — she smiled shyly — Then it's fine... Don’t you remember? You said I should do it if something like this happened.

  — I—Ah, yes, I remember... — Fusu straightened, letting out a soft, subdued laugh. He had indeed said something like that, but it was just him giving her false hope; he never thought she’d remember, much less consider it now — Rest for a bit, I’ll get you something to eat.

  He left after she nodded, but didn’t go far. His legs gave out and all confidence evaporated the moment the door closed. The walls were his support and his refuge, muffling his sobs and providing a place to lock away his thoughts and emotions.

  Soon, Ting turned to the window. She couldn’t help but imagine herself out on the streets, in restaurants, anywhere wonderful waiting for her. She didn’t want to stop. Simple dreams had fascinated her before, and now, the real possibility immersed her in euphoria.

  With her hair fluttering in the warm wind and a smile that wouldn't fade, she gazed at Noah, a still face, strangely serious, but—

  Hm, at least he's handsome... He just seems a little too serious, maybe worse than Uncle Fusu.

  Lying down beside him, she rested her head on one hand, her hair cascading down in long, shiny waves like blood.

  But I guess I shouldn't judge him before even hearing his voice, right...?

  She played with his long black hair with her fingers.

  He could turn out to be kinder than I imagine... or more annoying, she supposed, not very enthusiastically. What if he's like those people who get lost in caves, just cultivating all day, what will I do? Should I try to convince him otherwise? She considered this for a while. Or should I just leave him behind and return to him after some time?

  A long sigh escaped her and Ting wondered when he would finally wake up. No matter how much she poked Noah’s face, there was no reaction.

  Even if we were to really get married, he wouldn't want to keep me by his side all the time, would he? Then again..., would I even have a choice...?

  She gave in and allowed herself to lie on her stomach beside him, always watching him.

  Could I really do something on my own? Or would this cold face protect me? Does he even know what kind of trouble he’s getting into by asking me to stay with him? No… even if he does, he probably doesn’t care...

  Touching him gently, she turned his face so she could see all of it.

  If he was able to do something about the Frozen Flame, he must be strong, maybe one of the strongest people there is. And the strong don’t care about those below them, let alone their problems. Less than a wife or partner... to someone like him, maybe I'm nothing but a toy. So...

  She reached out, just to move stray locks blown across Noah’s face by the wind.

  what will he do with me when he gets tired of playing?