Midnight.
The Xiao clan compound lay silent under a full moon, most of its inhabitants long since retired to their beds. Long Aotian sat cross-legged in the courtyard, the clay jar of medicinal wine resting beside him. Two days had passed since his mother gave him the blood-red necklace. Two days of questions he couldn't answer and mysteries that refused to resolve themselves.
He pushed those thoughts aside and focused on what he could control.
The spiritual wine.
Long Aotian unsealed the jar carefully. The scent that wafted up was different from before—richer, more potent. The pale amber liquid had darkened to a deep gold, and when he peered inside, he could see faint wisps of yin and yang energy swirling through it like smoke frozen in water.
According to the Pill God's memories, the wine had absorbed enough spiritual properties from the Moonshade Grass and Crimson Flower to be effective. Not as potent as a proper pill would have been, but far better than nothing.
Long Aotian raised the jar to his lips and drank deeply.
The liquid burned going down. Not the pleasant warmth of regular wine, but a searing heat that felt like swallowing molten iron. Long Aotian's throat clenched, and he forced himself to keep drinking until he'd consumed half the jar's contents. When he finally lowered it, his entire body trembled.
Cold and heat warred inside him. The yin energy from the Moonshade Grass crashed against the yang energy from the Crimson Flower, creating a churning storm in his stomach. Long Aotian set the jar down quickly and closed his eyes, focusing inward.
The Dragon Blood Battle Body's circulation pathways burned in his mind. Without hesitation, Long Aotian seized the chaotic energies and forced them into the prescribed pattern. His innate yang energy ignited, burning the absorbed yin to create Dragon Blood Essence.
Pain erupted immediately.
Long Aotian's teeth ground together as the newly formed essence flooded through his meridians. It was more concentrated than what he'd created from moonlight alone—denser, more aggressive. The energy burrowed into his bones with the force of a pickaxe striking stone, breaking them down and rebuilding them stronger with each circulation.
Blood-red veins erupted across his skin, glowing faintly in the darkness. Sweat poured down his face and soaked through his robes. His hands, resting on his knees, trembled uncontrollably as the Dragon Blood Essence infused deeper into his body.
Hours passed. The moon tracked slowly across the sky while Long Aotian maintained the circulation without pause. The spiritual wine provided far more energy than simple moonlight, allowing him to complete cycle after cycle without the usual fatigue.
His bones grew denser. His tendons became more flexible and resilient. The muscles throughout his body compressed and strengthened, packing more power into a leaner frame.
Finally, as the first hints of dawn began to lighten the eastern sky, Long Aotian felt the energy settle. The spiritual wine's effects had been fully absorbed. He allowed the circulation to slow, then stop, before opening his eyes.
The world seemed sharper somehow. Colors more vivid. His hearing more acute. Long Aotian flexed his fingers and felt strength there that hadn't existed even a day ago. The Dragon Blood Battle Body was progressing faster than he'd dared hope.
He was about to stand when a voice echoed in his mind—not the cold, disdainful tone from before, but something different. Older. More measured.
"Boy, why are you so slow?"
Long Aotian froze. The voice belonged to the bound spirit, he was certain, but it sounded… different this time. Less mocking. More instructional.
Before he could respond, the voice continued.
"I expected you to have been halfway done with your battle body by now."
Long Aotian opened his mouth to defend himself—to explain that he'd only been cultivating for a few days, that he lacked proper resources, that he was doing the best he could—but the voice cut him off before he could speak.
"Listen here, kid." The tone sharpened slightly. "I heard everything your mother said. Your father who stays away to keep you safe. enemies who want your life just for existing. The danger lurking in shadows."
Long Aotian's jaw clenched. He remained silent, waiting.
"Allow me to give you some advice." A pause, then the voice spoke with absolute conviction. "When facing an enemy stronger than you, you have two choices. Run, or take your enemy down with you."
The words hung in Long Aotian's mind.
"But are you going to run forever?" The voice's tone shifted. "Only cowards run and hide. Remember this—only when you're strong can you protect what you hold dear. Power isn't about pride or revenge. It's about having the strength to stand between your loved ones and those who would harm them."
Silence fell over the courtyard. Long Aotian sat perfectly still.
He thought of his mother's tears when she'd given him the necklace. The fear in her eyes when she spoke of his father. The worry on her face, even when she tried to hide it. She'd spent fourteen years protecting him from dangers he couldn't see, bearing whispers and accusations alone because he lacked the strength to stand beside her.
How long would that continue? How long could he hide behind his mother's status as an elder while growing stronger in secret? And what would happen when whatever hunted his father turned its attention to them?
The voice was right. Running solved nothing. Hiding only delayed the inevitable.
Long Aotian took a slow breath and looked up at the sky. Stars still dotted the pre-dawn darkness, distant and cold.
"Thank you, Elder Voice," he said quietly.
No response came, but Long Aotian felt the presence recede slightly, as if satisfied.
A resolute expression settled over Long Aotian's face. He'd made a decision—one that would change everything.
He stood and walked toward his room with quick, determined steps