The winds settled. The pressure eased. I opened my eyes.
It was done.
For a moment, the courtyard felt suspended in silence. Then came the voices—soft steps on stone, a cough, a low murmur. I stood slowly, stretching out my limbs, testing the depth of the change inside me.
The qi was denser now, slower to move, but far more potent. What had once been like mist in my veins now flowed like warm, steady liquid. Fire and water—two forces I'd cultivated for years—now coiled together within me. One essence. One foundation.
I exhaled.
Father was the first to step forward. His expression wasn't overly excited or surprised—just deeply proud. He folded his arms over his chest, nodding once."Three children, three Foundation Building cultivators," he said, his voice steady. "Solid work."
"Father," I replied with a small bow.
Brother Changming gave me a look—one of those quiet acknowledgments that said more than words. He'd seen me work toward this since I was a boy. He knew how much this meant, even if no one had expected me to fail.
Brother Changjian showed up next, just returning from one of his distant missions. He gave me a sharp nod before placing a firm hand on my shoulder."You held nothing back," he said, lips twitching into a faint smile.
Changrui stood near the edge, arms behind his back. He didn't say much, just inclined his head with a calm sort of pride. We understood each other.
Aunt Tianying, the Matriarch, walked in quietly. Her sharp eyes softened a little as she looked me over."You're stable," she said simply. "Good."
Even Grandfather Ye Xuefeng appeared, his aura subtle but commanding. He stood tall as ever."It was expected," he said, meeting my eyes. "But even so—you've done well."
I bowed again. "Thank you, Grandfather."
"Stand tall. Foundation Building is just the beginning."
Two familiar voices broke the air behind them."Congratulations, Uncle, on building your foundation. Golden Core is expected," said Ruiling and Ruiyin.
They were Yun Fei's close nieces—bright, nosy, and honest. They felt like part of home now.
Then she stepped forward.
Yun Fei looked different. Or maybe I did. But the moment our eyes met, the noise of the courtyard dimmed. Her gaze swept over me like she was checking for cracks.
"You took your time," she said.
"Didn't want to rush it."
She rolled her eyes, but her lips curved. She took a step closer.
I reached out and took her hand. Her fingers trembled slightly. Whether from relief or something else, I didn't know. But she held on.
Behind us, Tianying's voice carried, gently breaking the moment."Let's all go back. He just made a breakthrough. We'll speak after he stabilizes his realm."
The family began dispersing, drifting toward the main residence. Someone sent for tea. The courtyard would be cleaned soon. The spiritual energy that had once twisted into a visible spiral over the training room had faded.
I felt the final wave of pressure settle over my shoulders and vanish.
It was done.
And somehow, everything had changed, even though everyone had known I'd succeed.
~~~
Chapter 29: A Day's Rest
My qi settled faster than anyone expected.
Most cultivators needed several days—sometimes weeks—to stabilize after building their foundation. It was a delicate phase, like coaxing a newborn flame not to sputter out. But the moment I sat in meditation, the fire and water I'd fused together flowed with calm precision. No turbulence, no backlash. Only balance. Perhaps it was the harmony of opposites—or perhaps it was just me.
By the next morning, I opened my eyes.
The spiritual threads in my meridians pulsed steadily. Everything was aligned.
I stood, rolled my shoulders once, then stepped out of the quiet training room.
Outside, the light of early day touched the stone paths with a soft golden hue. And there she was.
Yun Fei stood waiting under the peach tree, arms folded. Her eyes flicked up when she saw me, and that familiar glint returned to her gaze.
"Only a day?" she said, lifting an eyebrow.
"Were you hoping I'd take longer?" I asked, walking toward her.
She didn't answer immediately.
I reached her and pulled her into my arms.
Her breath caught, just a little, and her body relaxed into mine.
Our lips met. The world softened around us.
We didn't pull apart. Not for a moment.
I pulled back slightly, brushing my nose against hers. "Did you miss me?"
Her voice was low. "Not that much."
But her eyes said otherwise.
I kissed her again before she could say more.
She laughed against my lips, the sound soft and relieved, like something long held was finally let go.
I carried her into the room as i kissed her, our lips unable to part.
Inside, as the door closed behind us, I turned and caught her around the waist. She looked up at me, face flushed, breath shallow.
I didn't wait.
I pressed her gently onto the edge of the bed, burying my face in the softness of her chest.
Her fingers slipped into my hair.
I tugged at the sash of her robe.
She didn't stop me.
"This is the first thing that comes to your mind, after all that time?," she whispered, though her voice lacked conviction.
I kissed the hollow of her collarbone.
She laughed again, the sound breathy and warm.
"So," I murmured, looking up at her, "you really didn't miss me that much? Not even when you were touching yourself in my absence?"
She gasped, her cheeks flushing.
"You—!"
I chuckled low in my throat. "You're not even good at it, you know. I could sense everything through my spiritual consciousness. You thought I was gone, but I could still feel you fumbling around."
She buried her face in her hands, groaning. "You're the one who turned me into a pervert!"
"Proudly so," I said, kissing her again.
Her breath caught as I slipped behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist. I gently tugged her robe loose and pressed my body against her back.
"Let me show you how it's really done," I whispered into her ear, my voice low with promise.
She gasped, the sound laced with excitement and the faintest tremor of expectation. Her body tensed slightly in my arms, but she didn't resist—if anything, she leaned into me, her breath quickening as I kissed along the curve of her neck, taking my time, drawing out every flutter of anticipation. Her body melted under my touch, trembling not with fear but with hunger. In that moment, the world outside ceased to matter. There was only the two of us, bound by heat, breath, and the weight of everything unsaid between us.
Candles flickered faintly in the corners, their light dancing across the walls as shadows entwined like lovers. The night pressed gently against the window panes, cloaking the room in a quiet hush, as if the stars themselves paused to watch.
And beneath that hush, our bodies moved—slow and certain, like tides drawn to the moon.