Chapter Text
Far from the cultivation and martial arts worlds, behind the mists of the mountains that divide the two worlds, Zhou Zishu drifts into sleep in the arms of his husband, Wen Kexing.
Just as he closes his eyes, he is pulled into a dream world, where trees tower everywhere. Zhou Zishu walks through it, trying to see through the silvery mist.
After some moments, he sees a golden dragon—small, radiant, yet fragile as a flame in the wind. Its body glimmers with noble light, but each flicker burns away its own life, leaving it weaker, dimmer, as though time itself is devouring it.
Suddenly, from the void, shadows gather into the shape of a man, a hollow puppet draped in evil energy. The dragon gathers its fading strength, casting golden fire against the abyss, but every strike costs it dearly. Its body shrinks, its brilliance thinning into threads.
Then, through the storm of shadows, a phoenix descends in blazing scarlet. It wraps its wings around the trembling dragon, clutching it close. Its cry is raw and mournful, a flame-born lament that shakes the heavens.
---
Zhou Zishu wakes with a start, heart pounding. His chest is tight, his breath uneven. He closes his eyes briefly to steady himself, then exhales. “A premonition dream… after seventeen years. And such an ominous one…”
Zhou Zishu looks around and finds Wen Kexing is no longer beside him. He must be preparing breakfast...
Zhou Zishu dresses quickly and steps out to find him.
“Baba!” Small footsteps patter toward him. Turning, Zhou Zishu sees his son rushing over and hug his legs.
He smiles softly. “A-Zhan, why are you awake so early?”
A-Zhan smiles shyly. “A-Ying kicked me. He sleeps really bad...”
Zhou Zishu laughs warmly. “Then A-Ying must be sleeping really well.”
A-Zhan nods. Zhou Zishu lifts him into his arms. “Come, let’s eat breakfast together. Let A-Ying sleep a bit longer. He must be tired—his parents only brought him here after sunset yesterday.”
The boy nods again. Together, they head to the dining hall. Some disciples are already seated. Gu Xiang waves energetically from a table where she sits with Cao Weining, Zhang Chengling, and Wen Qing. “Master! A-Zhan! Over here!”
Zhou Zishu walks over, setting A-Zhan beside Wen Qing before taking his own seat.
“Master, you don’t usually wake up this early,” Cao Weining remarks.
Zhou Zishu pours tea with a click of his tongue. “You kid… This Master sometimes likes to wake up early too.”
Gu Xiang tuts. “Master, if you lie, your nose will grow long!”
A-Zhan’s eyes widen. “T—then… Baba’s nose will grow long?”
Wen Qing smiles amusedly while the others break into loud laughs. Zhou Zishu sighs helplessly. “A-Zhan, do you think your Baba is lying?”
A-Zhan tilts his head. “But Baba likes to wake up late… just like A-Ying.”
The table erupts with laughter. “Master, even A-Zhan knows your habits!” Gu Xiang teases.
“What are you brats laughing at?” Ye Baiyi interrupts, striding in with Jing Beiyuan and Wu Xi.
“Yeye, they laughed at Baba,” A-Zhan answers earnestly. Ye Baiyi smiles and ruffles his hair.
“What a good boy, answering this yeye. Fortunately, you don’t share the same personality as your A-Die.”
“What about me?” Wen Kexing’s voice cuts in sharply as he arrives and put several dishes on the table.
Ye Baiyi clicks his tongue and ignores him, still addressing A-Zhan. “When you grow up, don’t become like that A-Die of yours.”
“Old toad! Don’t poison my child with your nonsense!” Wen Kexing snaps.
“Nonsense?” Ye Baiyi scoffs. “Look, A-Zhan—this A-Die of yours can’t even tell advice from nonsense.”
Though A-Zhan doesn’t understand the exchange, he giggles softly. “A-Die and Yeye are like Ling-gege and Yi-gege.”
“Right? Just like children,” Zhou Zishu agrees. He pats A-Zhan’s head softly. “Even A-Zhan never fights with A-Ying.”
A-Zhan nods firmly. “Mn. A-Zhan and A-Ying never fight.”
Jing Beiyuan shakes his head, unfazed by the squabble. “Alright, let’s eat breakfast.”
---
After breakfast, A-Zhan goes to wake A-Ying with the three troublemakers. Wen Qing returns to her treatment room, while Zhou Zishu joins the others in the pavilion.
“So,” Jing Beiyuan says while brewing tea, “you had a new premonition dream?”
“That’s right,” Zhou Zishu replies, instantly casting a solemn air over the pavilion.
“Alright, spit it out,” Ye Baiyi asks impatiently.