Quiet room.

Shen Yi set down his chopsticks and raised his cup in a casual return gesture.

No polite disclaimers about not needing thanks. With a blunt, direct person like this, some things needed to come out before the chest could settle.

“Hah—“

Zhang Tuhu sat back, and something had returned to his face.

The Jingang School had ground his dignity into the dirt.

If he was being honest — with the gap in their strengths now — even if he threw his life into it, what could he actually do to help?

And yet Shen Yi’s manner was the same as it had been in Baiyun County. Nothing had changed.

“I’m going to take the boy away from Qingzhou city for a while. Find a smaller county somewhere quiet. Once we’re settled, I’ll have someone send word.”

The way things stood, Shen Yi’s rise was obvious to everyone, and after that public show of backing, any number of people in the city would be eager to use Zhang Tuhu as a way to build a connection. The big man saw it more clearly: these weren’t gifts he was entitled to. And for every person who wanted to curry favor, there was someone who wanted to hurt Shen Yi — and someone of his own limited ability could easily become the lever.

“Stay safe.”

Shen Yi nodded, then looked at Fang Heng. “Why do you keep looking at him like he’s your father?”

“…”

Fang Heng rolled his eyes, then sat down as well.

If his own parents had seen things this clearly when he was young, they might not have died defending that small shop — leaving only his grandmother and himself. Watching Zhang Tuhu and the boy in that relief of having made it out alive had stirred something.

The General was a fine teacher. Not so much a capable guardian.

“Grandmother says I’ve changed a lot lately. She’d like to thank you in person.”

He sighed. Changed because since meeting this person, his arms had never properly healed.

Unable to exchange blows, the temper had naturally come down.

“Tomorrow then.”

Shen Yi realized, looking around the small table, that people had started to think about him.

Unexpectedly — it felt acceptable.

All three of them drank only a little before heading to their rooms. Getting drunk to oblivion was a luxury in a world overrun by demons.

The following morning.

Zhang Tuhu left early, before the others were up. No words — he simply took the boy and bowed deeply to Shen Yi’s door before leaving.

Mid-morning, Fang Heng came back from outside with two bags of tangerines.

Shen Yi packed the personal attendant uniform into the silver bell and changed back into the plain dark robe he’d brought from Baiyun County. He pushed the door open.

“Are you leaving again?” Fang Heng looked at what he was wearing and seemed to put something together.

So the old grandmother did give him the bell.

That urgency, that refusal to stop — Fang Heng had only seen it in one other person.

“Can’t stay in the city all the time. Just going for a wander.”

Shen Yi walked out toward the gate.

Half a volume of a Condensate Realm body-refinement method sitting in his pocket, unused — genuinely getting on his nerves.

The two of them reached the General’s courtyard not long after.

Second time here. His state of mind was nothing like the first visit.

Now, standing at this entrance, anyone who saw him would assume he had business to attend to, not that he’d ridden someone else’s connections to get here.

“Xiao Yang, wait a little longer. I want to introduce you to someone.”

“Auntie, please — I only came to bring Commander Fang his salary. I’m not looking for anyone right now.”

“Just take a look first.”

“I really have somewhere to be—”

Voices from inside the courtyard. The young woman sounded like she was losing ground.

As both of them stepped in, she turned. Her gaze passed over Fang Heng without stopping and landed on the tall, dark-robed figure.

“Ah—”

She sat back down on the bench without deciding to. “Actually, I’m not busy after all.”

Fang Heng gave her a sideways look. “Go do your work.”

“I’m not that busy, honestly — hey — don’t pull me — Commander Shen! It’s me! I’m the one who picked out the techniques for you last time!”

Fang Heng walked over and pulled her up by the arm. She took three looks back for every step as she made her reluctant way out of the courtyard, eyes still attached to Shen Yi’s face.

“Could you be a little more civil.” The old woman gave Fang Heng a smack, then turned to Shen Yi with a bright expression. “You came.”

“Came to see how you were doing.”

He nodded. He hadn’t quite expected the constant talk of introductions to be serious.

“Sit down, I’ll cook.”

Old people liked to talk. She knew nothing about cultivation and asked about the everyday things. Shen Yi didn’t find it tiresome — he sat in the courtyard and answered each question carefully.

Somehow only this kind of scene gave him anything close to the settled feeling of his previous life.

By midday, congee and simple dishes were on the table again — this time with a braised pork made especially.

“You helped me straighten out this foolish boy, and he’s been much better behaved. Eat plenty. Put more force in next time.”

Shen Yi picked up his chopsticks, took a piece of the meat under the old woman’s expectant eyes, and just as it reached his lips—

The silver bell at his hip gave a quiet tremor.

He let the half-lean, half-fat piece dissolve on his tongue, took his time with it, and raised the corner of his mouth. “You have a real gift for this.”

“Do I? Then eat more.”

The old woman beamed.

“When there’s a chance.”

Shen Yi emptied the congee bowl quickly, stood with a small bow, and apologized as he took his leave.

Fang Heng caught something in the movement and looked up. “Commander Shen — be careful.”

What ordinary Division Commanders typically faced was less than a tenth of what demon-hunters faced.

“It’s fine. You young people are all busy — go do your things. Come sit with her when you have time.”

Once Shen Yi was gone, the old woman put away the smile. She sat back down and gave Fang Heng another smack.

“I don’t know what you’re always fussing about. Such a fine young man — if he had someone at home waiting for him, would he need to work this hard?”

“That doesn’t mean you can just match him with anyone.” Fang Heng pressed his lips together in rare, quiet protest.

“That’s fair enough.” She thought about it. Then smiled. “That martial elder sister of yours actually reminds me of him quite a bit.”

“You mean Lin martial-elder-sister?” Fang Heng blinked. There was something to that.

“No, the prettier one.” She leaned forward conspiratorially. “Both look cold on the outside, but they’re warm underneath — don’t you think? Why not try to nudge things along?”

Fang Heng went cold.

He shook his head emphatically, both hands up. “Please don’t. Commander Shen looks cold but he’s just quiet. Martial Elder Sister Jiang—” he spread his hands, “—completely different. You’ve misread her.”

She looked unconvinced. He glanced both ways.

He lowered his voice.

“According to Martial Elder Brother You — Elder Sister Jiang was caught in a demon attack when she was young. She crawled out of a pile of bodies alone. When Teacher found her, her only companion was a golden spider monkey that had survived the same disaster. They’d kept watch for each other through the night, split a single wheat cake between them. One disaster, two survivors, and she still had something like hope in her eyes.”

“Then Teacher came along.” He paused. “That’s where things went wrong.”

A beat.

“Teacher took her and the monkey to a courtyard and looked after them both.” Fang Heng laid his chopsticks down, not really eating. “He taught them both martial arts at the same time. The monkey practiced bladework, Elder Sister Jiang practiced the sword. That monkey had also been the only one to escape when a great ape demon slaughtered its clan — they’d been through death together. As close as it comes.”

“After only a few months, the monkey had reached Novice with the blade. Teacher gave it a treasured saber and sent it out to gain experience.”

“Shortly after the monkey left, Teacher called Elder Sister Jiang in. He told her the monkey carried hatred — that its first act on the road would be going back to find its enemy. The journey alone would take nearly a month.”

He looked at the table.

“One month. Breakthrough to the Threshold Realm. Then he’d take her to help it.”

The old woman went still. “Did she make it?”

“Of course she didn’t.” Something sad and resigned moved through Fang Heng’s eyes. “She rested two hours a night, at most. She still fell short by a margin.”

He was quiet for a moment.

“None of that is the point.”

He set down the chopsticks. Let out a long breath. “What I’m trying to say is — from that point on, Elder Sister Jiang never asked about the monkey once. She never went anywhere near where it had been. She let everything go completely, and gave herself entirely to becoming the sharpest sword in Qingzhou.” He looked up. “It’s not what you’re calling outer cold, inner warmth.”

“It’s that she genuinely doesn’t care about anything anymore.”

(End of Chapter)