The cold arrived before relief.
The nine jade tiles of Mu Qingxue's formation created a circle around Lin Yuan and released threads of blue energy that wove together above the platform. They did not enter his meridians directly. Doing so would have provoked a violent reaction from the Celestial Scripture of the Primordial Bloodline. Instead, they built a flexible cage around the uncontrolled qi, reducing the space into which it could reverse and forcing it toward a less destructive route.
—Breathe in four measures —Mu Qingxue ordered—. Do not follow your technique. Follow me.
Lin Yuan opened his eyes slightly. His vision was stained red.
—You do not know my circulation.
—I know the mountain. Right now, you are connected to it too deeply. If I stabilize the outer pulse, you will have a chance to order the inner flow.
Gu Tian stood at the edge of the platform holding two formation spikes between his fingers.
—And if we fail —he added—, I will try to keep the explosion from destroying more than half the underground complex.
Mu Qingxue gave him a cold look.
—How reassuring.
—Honesty calms the heart.
—In your case, it inspires violence.
Despite the pain, Lin Yuan felt their conversation anchoring him. These were real voices. Not accusations shaped by the demon, not echoes built from his fears. Mu Qingxue stood in front of him, focused and furious. Gu Tian hid concern beneath sarcasm.
—First measure —she said—. Inhale.
Lin Yuan obeyed.
The burning qi struck the cold boundary.
—Second. Hold.
One jade tile cracked.
—Third. Lower the energy toward the dantian.
The knot near his heart refused to move.
Lin Yuan clenched his teeth.
—It will not descend.
—Because you are pushing it as if it were an enemy —Mu Qingxue replied—. Do not strike it. Give it an exit.
—You sound like Gu Tian.
—That is more offensive than dying here.
The old man grunted.
—Young people today have no respect for wisdom.
—Wisdom does not usually smell like cheap wine.
Another tile lit. The circle tightened.
Lin Yuan tried again, this time without forcing. He imagined the qi as a current trapped behind a stone. He did not need to destroy the stone; he needed to open a channel around it. The energy descended by the width of a finger.
The pain changed. It remained intense, but stopped spreading.
—Good —Mu Qingxue said—. Again.
They worked for nearly an hour.
Every cycle demanded precision. Gu Tian cut pulses from the platform whenever the mountain amplified the energy too strongly. Mu Qingxue replaced cracked tiles and recalculated the balance. Lin Yuan moved the qi little by little, clearing damaged routes without allowing the internal demon to return.
At one point, the illusion tried to seep back into him. The child's voice appeared at the edge of his mind.
Everyone leaves.
Lin Yuan did not argue with it. He listened only to Mu Qingxue's real voice.
—Third measure. Lower it.
The shadow weakened.
—Fourth. Exhale.
The knot finally split into three smaller currents that descended toward the dantian. Lin Yuan bent forward and spat dark blood across the stone.
Mu Qingxue did not move until she confirmed that the circulation remained alive.
—Is it over? —she asked.
Gu Tian pressed his palm against the floor.
—The resonance has fallen. But his meridians look like a road after a war.
Lin Yuan breathed with difficulty.
—I have been worse.
—That is not a virtue —Mu Qingxue said.
He tried to stand. She put one hand on his shoulder and forced him back into a sitting position with surprising strength.
—No.
—The sect...
—Will continue existing for one hour without watching you walk through it like a stubborn corpse.
—There are shifts to review.
—Mo Qian can count. Bai Lian can organize. Jian Mu watches better than you when you are half-conscious. And Han Yue has spent three hours waiting for an excuse to shout orders.
Gu Tian nodded solemnly.
—The mountain will survive that tragedy.
Lin Yuan closed his eyes for a moment. The exhaustion was too deep for a proper argument.
Mu Qingxue gathered the broken tiles. Seven were ruined.
—Those belonged to your clan —Lin Yuan said.
—They belonged to a box.
—They were fine formation jade.
—And now they served a purpose.
—I will compensate you.
She stopped.
—Do not turn every act of help into an account debt.
Lin Yuan opened his eyes.
—I dislike owing.
—I know.
The answer came so quickly that it unsettled him more than an accusation.
Gu Tian collected his jar and began walking toward the exit.
—I will inform the others that the founder has not died, although he made a serious effort.
—Do not tell them what happened —Lin Yuan said.
The old man turned halfway.
—Which part? That your cultivation lost control, or that you need help like any other human being?
Lin Yuan said nothing.
Gu Tian watched him with unexpected seriousness.
—I will not tell details that do not belong to me. But you cannot lead a sect while pretending you never bleed. That does not inspire trust. It inspires fear that one day you will fall and no one will know why.
He left before Lin Yuan could answer.
Mu Qingxue sat on the opposite side of the platform. For several minutes, neither spoke. The buried heart maintained a slow pulse below them.
—Was it an internal demon? —she asked at last.
Lin Yuan could lie. He could claim it was a reaction from the underground structure, an error in circulation, or temporary incompatibility. But Mu Qingxue had seen too much.
—Yes.
—Connected to the mountain?
—Connected to me.
She waited. She did not ask what he had seen.
—I will not force you to tell me what you cannot —she said—. But I will not accept you using secrecy as an excuse to die alone.
Lin Yuan raised his eyes.
—That was not my intention.
—Intention matters less than result when you are unconscious on an ancient platform.
—I could control it.
Mu Qingxue pointed toward the dark blood.
—A very convincing claim.
Lin Yuan nearly smiled. The movement hurt.
—Do you always argue like this with wounded allies?
—Only with those who believe being wounded makes them correct.
The silence that followed was lighter.
Mu Qingxue rested her hands on her knees.
—My father also hid every problem —she said suddenly—. When the clan began losing territory, he claimed everything was under control. When we lacked materials for formations, he sold personal objects without telling anyone. When the elders began to divide, he tried to carry every decision. He believed protecting us meant preventing us from seeing the weight.
—What happened?
—When he fell, no one knew how to support what he had hidden.
The confession was not dramatic. That gave it greater weight.
—I am not your father —Lin Yuan said.
—No. He would have refused my formation until death.
—I accepted it.
—After arguing.
—That counts as progress.
Mu Qingxue allowed herself a brief smile.
—Miserable progress.
Lin Yuan looked at the broken tiles.
—The demon used all of you.
Her expression did not change.
—How?
—It showed me the sect empty. Each of you leaving. It said I only wanted to become indispensable so no one could abandon me.
Mu Qingxue took a moment before answering.
—Was it a lie?
The question was direct, not cruel.
—Not entirely.
—Then you did well not to defeat it through denial alone.
—I told it everyone was free to leave.
—Do you believe that?
Lin Yuan thought of the vision, the empty throne, and the child offering one hand.
—I am trying to.
Mu Qingxue picked up the final unbroken tile and turned it between her fingers.
—People who remain because they cannot leave are not family. They are property.
—I know.
—Knowing and feeling are different things.
—I know that too.
She nodded. She offered no easy comfort.
When Lin Yuan could finally stand, Mu Qingxue forced him to lean on her during the first section of the climb. He protested once. She ignored him.
At the surface, everyone was waiting near the entrance. Bai Lian ran toward him with a mixture of relief and anger. Han Yue opened his mouth, saw Mu Qingxue's expression, and decided for once not to make a joke. Jian Mu looked at the dried blood and tightened his jaw.
—It was a qi deviation —Lin Yuan said before they could ask—. It is under control.
Bai Lian crossed her arms.
—I will decide that after examining you.
—I am the founder.
—And I am the person holding medicinal needles.
Mo Qian tilted his head toward Han Yue.
—I bet five contribution points that she wins.
—I will not accept a wager with an obvious result.
The normality of their responses produced something strange within Lin Yuan. The demon had shown him faces walking away. Reality showed him people angry because he was still there and had endangered himself.
It was not a guarantee of permanence.
But it was real.
That night, from a room where Bai Lian forced him to rest, Lin Yuan heard the sounds of the sect: hammers from the Crafts Courtyard, guard footsteps, Han Yue arguing over a ration, children laughing before sleep.
Mu Qingxue left a small cooling formation beside the window.
Before leaving, she said:
—The next time you notice something inside you beginning to break, tell someone.
—I cannot promise I will always recognize it.
—Then promise not to ignore it when you do.
Lin Yuan looked at her.
—I promise.
She nodded and left.
It was not a confession or a debt. It was something more difficult for him: allowing another person the right to worry.
Outside, a thin layer of frost spread across the window frame and slowly melted beneath the warmth of the room.
Snow over a heart that had burned too close to destroying itself.