Chapter Text
As evening deepened and the last rays of light surrendered to darkness, the village settled into a quieter rhythm. Lanterns flickered to life behind paper windows, and the sounds of inns and teahouses softened into a muted hum. Perfect conditions for what Kejian had in mind.
He basically dragged the juniors with him to the other side of the wall, their protests dying in their throats as he pulled them through shadowed alleyways and across moonlit patches with the confidence of someone who had done this before. Before leaving the inn, he had produced a small talisman from his sash—a strip of paper covered in hastily drawn characters that only he seemed to understand.
"This," he had whispered proudly, "is my latest invention. Temporary clothing dye. Just stick it and our robes go from dusty grey to midnight black."
Li San had stared at it doubtfully. "That won't, like, stain our skin permanently, will it?"
Kejian had placed the talisman against his own sleeve, watching with satisfaction as the fabric darkened. "Trust me! Well... mostly trust me. I fixed the formula after the Incident."
"What incident?" Lian San had asked, already dreading the answer.
*a flashback occurs, kejian's master scolding the now green haired boy while he pouted on the ground.*
"Nothing that a few weeks of green hair couldn't fix." Kejian had grinned and applied the talisman to her robes before she could protest.
Thankfully, his "stupid" inventions, as his master often called them, were bound to be useful one day. Tonight was that day. The four of them moved as shadows against shadows, their dark clothing blending seamlessly with the night.
Kejian led the way with a stealth that seemed almost unnatural for a seventeen-year-old boy. His footfalls made no sound; his breathing remained steady and controlled. Every few steps, he would pause, tilt his head, listen to the night, and then continue with absolute certainty. The juniors followed in his wake, exchanging impressed glances they couldn't quite suppress.
They soon reached the courier gate on the eastern wall. It was smaller than the main gates, barely wide enough for a cart, and looked rarely used, exactly as the guard had described. No torches burned nearby, and the sounds of the Emperor's guards, if any were posted here, were conspicuously absent.
Kejian studied the gate for a moment, then moved. His hands found purchase on the wood grain, his feet pushed against the frame, and within seconds he had scaled the gate with the ease of a squirrel climbing a tree. He perched at the top, surveyed the other side briefly, then dropped down, landing silently on the forbidden soil of the Central Plains.
He turned back to face his juniors, who were still on the other side staring up at him with a mixture of awe and anxiety. A huge grin spread across his face, visible even in the dim light.
"What shall I do?" he called softly, his voice carrying just enough to reach them. "Help you... or run away?"
The juniors' faces paled simultaneously. The oldest of the three—a tough-looking young man with untamed rough short hair that reached just below his ears, his build suggesting he could handle himself in a fight—had eyes that betrayed his gentle nature. His name was Bao, and he was famously the most responsible of the juniors, always fretting over the others like a mother hen.
"Kejian..!" Bao hissed, his voice strained with worry as he checked their surroundings frantically, half-expecting guards to emerge from the shadows at any moment. "Don't tease us like that!"
Kejian chuckled lightly, the sound barely more than a breath. He crossed his arms and leaned against the gate, utterly at ease despite being on the wrong side of an Imperial blockade.
"Calm down! I'll wait right here till you three get over." He gestured invitingly. "It's not that high. Bao, you first, you can catch the others if they fall."
Bao stared at the gate, then at Kejian's smug face, then back at the gate. With a resigned sigh that spoke of long experience with his senior brother's antics, he rolled up his sleeves and approached the wooden barrier.
"If I fall and break something," he muttered, "you're carrying me to every food stall in the Central Plains."
"Deal!" Kejian whispered back cheerfully. "Now climb, you big baby. The night's not getting any younger."
As the three finally climbed over, Bao landing with a solid thud, Lian San graceful as a cat, and Li San tumbling into a heap that required urgent shushing, Kejian signaled for them to follow. They moved behind buildings for a good minute, hugging the shadows until they were well past the guards stationed by the wall. Only then did Kejian relax slightly.
He spoke lowly, his voice barely a breath. "Let's wait here till the dye disappears, and then we'll head into a night inn. They're always open."
Lian San raised an eyebrow, suspicion flickering in her eyes. "What's a night inn? And how do you know about it?"
Kejian chuckled softly, that insufferably smug expression settling onto his features. "Did you really think I stayed obediently within our sect walls? I would go out once in a while to nearby villages." He looked almost proud of himself, clearly savoring the fact that he had never been caught.
Bao huffed lightly, disbelief evident in his soft eyes. "We're doomed if we get caught, so can we please not talk for now?"
Kejian grumbled but nodded, waving Bao off with a dismissive gesture. "Fine, fine."
Silence settled over them—tense, watchful, the kind of quiet that magnifies every heartbeat.
Then Kejian's head snapped up.
Footsteps. Calm. Precise. Deliberate. Powerful.
He pressed a finger to his lips, shushing them urgently. The juniors exchanged confused glances, they hadn't heard anything. But Kejian's senses had always been sharper than theirs. He crept to the corner of the building and peaked out, his breath catching in his throat.
The figure walking through the moonlit street was young, perhaps his age, perhaps slightly older. But his presence... it commanded the very air around him. Broad shoulders beneath robes of deep blue and silver. A bearing that spoke of absolute confidence, of someone who had never known what it meant to yield. His cultivation radiated from him like heat from a forge, invisible but unmistakable to anyone with spiritual awareness.
Kejian stared, slightly amazed. The build alone was impressive, tall, muscular without being bulky, every line of him suggesting combat readiness. But it was the cultivation that truly captured Kejian's attention. This wasn't some random young master showing off. This was genuine power, worn as casually as clothing.
He didn't know it yet, but he was looking at Shí Xiàoyán. The Emperor's son. The very reason the Central Plains were locked down.
And for once in his life, Guo Kejian had absolutely nothing to say.
He quickly turned to the three, his voice coming out a little too casual. "Nothing to see there..."
He looked down. Their robes had shifted back to their original colors, the talisman's effect finally wearing off. Good timing, at least.
"Come, let's go." He glanced once more toward that mysterious figure's direction—the young man had already disappeared around a corner—before urging the rest to follow him through the winding streets.
The night inn was exactly what he remembered: a nondescript building with a single red lantern hanging outside, the paint worn but the welcome genuine. Inside, warm lamplight revealed a scattering of patrons keeping late hours—merchants, travelers, the usual nocturnal crowd. The innkeeper, a sleepy-eyed man who asked no questions, accepted their coins without comment.
Three rooms. Kejian took one for himself. Lian San claimed her own, shooting her brother a warning look about keeping the shared room civil. Bao and Li San were left to figure out the sleeping arrangements between themselves. Bros, as Kejian had put it. They'd manage.
Upstairs, Kejian didn't bother with the bed. Instead, he settled onto the window sill, one knee drawn up, the other leg dangling. The wooden frame creaked slightly under his weight, but held. Outside, the street lay empty and silver under the moonlight.
His mind, however, was far from empty.
That stranger. The way he moved—calm, precise, deliberate. The weight of his presence, even from a distance. Kejian had seen plenty of cultivators in his seventeen years. He'd sparred with seniors, observed visiting masters, even glimpsed a few genuine prodigies at sect gatherings. But this one felt different.
He looked quite strong, Kejian admitted to himself. And effortlessly ethereal, like he'd been carved from moonlight and placed among common mortals by some celestial mistake.
Kejian's fingers tapped against the window frame. Annoying. Truly annoying. Here he was, sneaking through the Central Plains like a common thief, and that guy probably just... walked through the front gates. Slept in silk sheets. Ate the best food without counting coins.
He should hate him on principle.
Instead, Kejian was just... intrigued.
He sighed, letting his head fall back against the window frame. "Get a grip," he muttered to himself. "You're here for food, not to admire pretty boys with too much spiritual energy."
The night offered no response. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barked. Kejian stayed at the window, watching, waiting, his curiosity refusing to quiet.