Chapter 5: A Path Unseen

                                    

                                          
Ruo Xuan's footsteps were steady as he walked through the crowded streets, though his heart was anything but calm. Every step felt heavier than the last, as if the weight of the past had attached itself to his feet, dragging him down. But he would not show it—not to the bustling crowd around him, not to Zhang Wei, who followed him loyally, and certainly not to himself.
He's gone.
It was the silent mantra Ruo Xuan repeated to himself as he moved deeper into the city. Yet, no matter how many times he whispered it in the recesses of his mind, the truth clung to him like an unwelcome shadow.
Tian Kuo.
Even now, the memory of his voice, so much deeper, more mature, echoed in his ears. Ruo Xuan clenched his jaw, willing himself to let go of the sensation, the pull he had felt as soon as Tian Kuo had spoken. It had taken all his willpower to maintain his composure, to act as though that voice hadn't stirred something deep inside of him—something he had tried so hard to bury.
But there was no denying it. That brief encounter, as fleeting as it had been, had stirred the old wounds, wounds that had never truly healed. He had felt Tian Kuo's presence the moment he stepped within range, the strength of his qi unmistakable. And yet, Ruo Xuan had refused to acknowledge it. He couldn't.
It is better this way, he told himself.
"Master," Zhang Wei called out from behind him, snapping Ruo Xuan from his spiraling thoughts. The younger disciple trotted up to his side, his arms filled with various herbs and supplies. "Are you feeling well? You've been... quieter than usual."
Ruo Xuan paused for a moment before offering a faint, reassuring smile. "I am fine, Zhang Wei. Simply preoccupied with thoughts of our work."
Though his words were calm, they felt hollow, even to his own ears. But Zhang Wei, ever loyal and trusting, simply nodded and fell back into step beside him.
They had spent the day gathering supplies for the mountain, carefully picking out materials to aid in the disciples' training. Ruo Xuan had busied himself with the task, keeping his mind occupied, hoping that focusing on something productive would push away the gnawing thoughts of Tian Kuo. But it was proving more difficult than he'd imagined.
Even as they made their way through the marketplace, Ruo Xuan found his mind wandering back to the earlier encounter. He had not looked directly at Tian Kuo—not once. But he had felt him, felt the intensity of his presence, the weight of his gaze. It had taken everything in him not to reach out, not to turn and speak, not to give in to the storm of emotions that had swirled up in his chest.
It had been years since they had last crossed paths—years filled with battles, bloodshed, and loss. He had grown stronger, colder, more distant. His blindness had taken many things from him, but in a way, it had granted him clarity. He no longer allowed himself to feel, not in the way he had once felt for Tian Kuo. Emotions had become dangerous, a distraction that he could not afford.
He is nothing but a memory now, Ruo Xuan told himself again, more firmly this time.
As they approached the edge of the marketplace, Ruo Xuan's hand subtly brushed against a small table of talismans and herbs. He could sense the intricate carvings on the surface of the talismans, their spiritual energy faint but detectable to his trained senses. The city's sounds and sensations filled his awareness—voices calling out, feet shuffling, the distant clang of a blacksmith's hammer—but in his mind, there was only silence. A silence he had long ago built as a fortress around his heart.
And yet, that fortress felt more fragile now.
"Master, should we return to the mountain after this?" Zhang Wei asked, his voice tentative. "Or would you like to stay in the city for a bit longer?"