The sea murmured like a restless dream.
White mist clung to the quiet morning. It softened the rooftops of the fishing village, blurred the winding path between worn stones and crooked fences, and swallowed the horizon whole. It was peaceful—too peaceful. As though the world held its breath.
At the edge of this slumbering world sat a man who did not belong.
He wore the face of an old drunk—grey hair, sunburnt skin, wrinkles drawn by illusion. His robes were patched and stained with wine. A gourd hung from each side of his waist, and a third, half-emptied, rolled idly between his fingers.
But his eyes—hidden beneath the brim of a straw hat—burned with something far too ancient.
It was Mo Tianzun, former Lord of the Demon Realm.
Trapped in the body of Lin Xuanji, the youth who had once been soft-spoken and bright, who had thrown himself into death to save the ones he loved.
Mo Tianzun had lived with this face now for twenty years.
He no longer dared speak his name.
The villagers thought he was mad. They let him stay because he caused no trouble, always sitting on the pier or muttering strange poems while staring at the waves.
They didn't know who he was.
They didn't know that within him pulsed a Yin energy so strong it once devoured gods.
He kept it sealed. He held his breath. He hid it with every hour he lived.
And yet today… something cracked.
A strange wind blew inland from the sea.
Not the smell of fish or salt—but the scent of foxfire and rain-soaked lotus petals.
Mo Tianzun froze.
His wine gourd dropped from his hand and rolled down the stone steps.
He stood—slowly—staring into the mist where two silhouettes approached, gliding with grace no human could possess.
One was dressed in white robes with faint hints of jade-blue rippling like flowing water. His hair was long and silver, brushing the small of his back. His eyes… clear as the deepest sea.
The other wore crimson silk and fur-lined sleeves, with black hair tied loosely behind his back. His beauty was fierce and wild, eyes bright like foxfire beneath twilight.
Canglong Shuiyun.
Yun Huayin.
Mo Tianzun's body stiffened.
He couldn't believe it.
Those two were supposed to be in the Spirit Realm. After Shuiyun's soul had shattered during the war between clans in Spirit Realm, Huayin had spent years searching, mending it something piece by piece. Saved him with Xuanji(Tianzun) And when Shuiyun was whole again, Huayin had smiled—gently, gratefully—and said:
"We'll go now. We owe you our lives, Lord Tianzun. Now we'll finally have the peace you gave us."
They left.
They were gone.
They were supposed to be happy.
So why—why were they here?
In this realm?
In this place?
Mo Tianzun's heart pounded like thunder in his ears. He shrank back beneath the shadow of the shrine, adjusting the illusion over his face.
He couldn't be seen. Not now. Not like this.
Not when even the faintest recognition in their eyes might break him.
Yet… he watched them.
They walked through the village like they had all the time in the world. Shuiyun touched a blossoming tree beside the path, while Huayin examined a rack of drying herbs.
They looked content—relaxed.
And then…
Huayin paused.
His golden fox-eyes narrowed. The wind caught in his fur-lined sleeve as he slowly turned toward the alley where Mo Tianzun was hiding.
"…There's something here."
Shuiyun followed his gaze. "What is it?"
Huayin's voice dropped to a murmur. "A qi. Familiar. But…" His brow furrowed. "It shouldn't be here."
He stepped forward, quiet and deliberate.
Mo Tianzun backed away, pressing his shoulder to the cold stone wall, barely breathing.
No. No, he couldn't be found. He couldn't face them.
He'd changed. He was not the same man. Lin Xuanji was gone. And Mo Tianzun, even if he survived the fall, had no right to seek love, to seek comfort, not after what he had done.
But the seal on his dantian pulsed with pain, cracking just enough for a flicker of his Yin qi to escape.
Huayin froze.
"…This energy," he whispered.
Shuiyun tilted his head. "Do you recognize it?"
"It's…" Huayin's breath caught. His expression slowly twisted from confusion to disbelief. "It's him. It's—"
Before he could finish, the energy disappeared again.
Mo Tianzun had already fled down the back alley, vanishing like fog in the morning sun.
Huayin ran to follow—but there was no trace. Only silence. Only the faint scent of wine left in the air.
"…Gone," he whispered, heart aching. "But it was him."
Shuiyun stepped close, placing a hand gently over Huayin's. "We'll find him again. If he's here… there must be a reason."
Huayin's golden eyes gazed into the mist.
He said nothing.
But deep in his soul, something stirred—something that had happened in twenty years.
———
Far beyond the village, hidden beneath old ruins, Mo Tianzun collapsed into a dark corner, clutching his chest.
His whole body shook.
Why were they here?
Why now?
What had gone wrong in the Spirit Realm?
He didn't know.
But if fate was bringing them back… then something dark was coming.
Something that would tear this peace apart again.
And this time…
He would not let anyone else die for him.
He would face it alone again.
Even if he had to carry the entire weight of the world in silence.