Hoa Van Remains

Three days passed.

Inside the cave dwelling of the Cosmic Ark, Wood spiritual qi continued to gather slowly around the wooden bed. Pale green wisps of mist drifted across Tieu Lan’s skin and seeped quietly into her meridians, neither too quickly nor too forcefully, just enough to keep the fragile life force within her from declining any further.

She still had not awakened.

Her face remained paler than usual, but her breathing was steadier than it had been three days ago, and her heartbeat was no longer so weak that it nearly vanished between long stretches of silence.

Hao Nhien sat beside the bed with one hand resting on his knee while the other continued to hold hers. During these three days, he had barely left the room, not because there was nothing outside that needed his attention, but because before stepping away, he needed to be certain of one very simple thing.

Tieu Lan was still here.

Still breathing.

Still alive.

A faint heartbeat pulsed beneath his fingertips.

Hao Nhien looked down at her, and the black river once again surfaced in his mind, along with the small hand that had held onto him in the freezing water. For a single instant, Tieu Lan’s face had overlapped with Anh Nhien’s, and even after three days, that strange feeling had not entirely faded.

At first, he had assumed it was merely a chaotic memory born from a consciousness on the verge of dispersing. Yet the more he thought about it, the less accidental the appearance of those two images seemed.

They were not alike.

They were not the same person.

And yet, somewhere very deep within his consciousness, something had caused both of them to appear at the exact moment he stood between life and death.

Hao Nhien frowned faintly.

Anh Nhien. Firmament. The painting in the Heavenly Spirit Merchant Association. Lanh Tuyet. The man in red battle armor holding a bow. Hoang Sam. And now, that strange feeling connected to Tieu Lan.

All of it resembled scattered fragments of a picture he still could not see in full.

He did not force himself to search for an answer.

Not yet.

Hao Nhien withdrew his thoughts and returned his gaze to the sleeping face before him.

“Keep sleeping.”

His voice was very soft.

“I’ll find a way.”

During the past three days, Phong Van Tu had entered several times to examine her. The conclusion had not changed much. Tieu Lan’s foundation had not collapsed, her dantian remained intact, and her meridians were not damaged beyond recovery, but she had lost so much life force that no one could say with certainty how long it would take for her to awaken on her own.

A month.

A year.

Perhaps longer.

No one had an answer.

Hao Nhien disliked answers like that, but this time he could not cut open a path with a sword, nor could he break through the problem with spiritual power. To bring Tieu Lan back, he needed something capable of truly replenishing life force and the source of life itself, or a method unknown to everyone here.

As long as even one possibility existed, he would search for it.

A name suddenly surfaced in his mind.

The Immortal Heart.

Hoang Sam.

Hao Nhien did not know what the Immortal Heart truly was. He did not know how much truth lay behind Hoang Sam’s so-called immortality, nor whether such an existence could be used to save another person.

But if something in this world was truly connected to a form of life that was almost impossible to extinguish, then that alone was enough to make it a lead worth pursuing.

It did not need to be certain.

A possibility was enough.

Hao Nhien tightened his hold on Tieu Lan’s hand.

If the places he knew held no answer, then he would go to places he had never known.

At that moment, the spiritual power in his dantian began to circulate slowly.

His own body had also changed during these three days.

The continuous battles of the Huyen Bang had pushed his spiritual power, meridians, Body-Soul Fist Art, and Fire Banner Jade across one limit after another. By the time he fought Duong Quang, everything that had been compressed inside him had finally shattered through its restraints, only to be drawn back from the brink by medicinal power, the Wood spiritual qi within the Cosmic Ark, and Tieu Lan’s life force.

For the first three days, all of that strength had been used simply to keep him alive.

But as his heart meridians gradually stabilized, the medicinal power still remaining inside his body began to be refined. Wood spiritual qi flowed into the meridians that had only recently been restored, and the barrier of Foundation Establishment layer seven, already covered in cracks, could no longer hold.

A faint sound of breaking came from within his dantian.

There was no heavenly phenomenon.

No violent eruption of spiritual power.

Only an invisible barrier quietly giving way.

Foundation Establishment layer eight.

Hao Nhien opened his eyes.

There was no joy in them.

He merely circulated his power through one full cycle, feeling how much denser it had become and how his dantian had expanded slightly. The meridian routes that had endured repeated pressure inside the Lightning Sacrifice Mountain Cave still retained their unusual resilience, but the moment spiritual power reached the area around his chest, pain immediately surged through him.

Hao Nhien frowned.

A thin trace of blood appeared at the corner of his mouth.

He wiped it away with one finger.

Advancing a realm did not mean his injuries had disappeared.

His left lung had not fully recovered, his heart meridians remained weak, the area around his shoulders and back still ached from repeatedly bearing the strain of the Spirit Wings, and Rage was absolutely not something he could use casually in the near future.

Hao Nhien looked at Tieu Lan.

“You didn’t pull me back so I could become stronger.”

A faint smile appeared on his lips.

“I know.”

He sat for a while longer before slowly rising.

His first step was slightly slow, but steady enough.

Hao Nhien pulled the blanket higher over Tieu Lan, then bent down and pressed a very light kiss to her forehead.

“Wait for me.”

Outside the room, Quan Nha was still seated beside a wooden table. A jade slip lay in front of her, though she had not turned to a new section in a long time.

Tieu Nhan had fallen asleep beside her, one cheek pressed against her arm, her hair so disheveled that several strands had stuck to her forehead.

The moment Hao Nhien opened the door, Quan Nha looked up.

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Her gaze immediately swept over him from head to toe.

“You came out.”

“Mm.”

“Tieu Lan?”

“Stable.”

Quan Nha nodded softly, and the hand resting on the table relaxed slightly.

Their voices startled Tieu Nhan awake.

Her head snapped up.

“Tieu Lan woke up?”

Her eyes immediately turned toward the door.

Hao Nhien shook his head.

“Not yet.”

The hope on her face slowly faded.

“But she’s still alive,” Hao Nhien continued. “And I’ll find a way.”

Tieu Nhan remained silent for several breaths before nodding firmly.

“You definitely will.”

Looking at her, Hao Nhien realized she had barely left this place for three days either, and something in his expression softened.

He reached out and lightly rubbed her head.

“Go back and sleep tonight.”

She immediately shook her head.

“I’m staying here.”

“No.”

“But—”

“If Tieu Lan wakes up and sees you looking like someone who hasn’t bathed in three days, she might faint again.”

Tieu Nhan froze.

Both hands immediately flew to her hair.

“I did bathe!”

Quan Nha turned her face aside.

The corner of her lips twitched.

Tieu Nhan instantly looked at her.

“Sister Quan Nha!”

Hao Nhien laughed.

The movement immediately triggered pain in his chest, forcing him to cough once.

Quan Nha stood at once.

“You still haven’t recovered.”

“I know.”

“Then why are you laughing?”

Hao Nhien looked at her.

“If the three of us sit here looking like we’re attending a funeral until Tieu Lan wakes up, she probably won’t be happy when she finally does.”

Quan Nha was silent for several breaths before stepping closer and placing a hand on his arm.

“What are you going to do next?”

Hao Nhien looked back toward the closed door.

“Recover a little more first.”

“After that, I’ll leave.”

Quan Nha looked at him.

“Where?”

“I don’t know exactly.”

Tieu Nhan, who had just finished fixing her hair, immediately looked up.

“You’re leaving even though you don’t know where you’re going?”

Hao Nhien nodded.

“The places I know have no answer. So the only thing left is to go somewhere I don’t know.”

Quan Nha did not ask further.

“When?”

“Not yet. Before I leave, there are several things in Hoa Van I need to finish.”

Over the next seven days, Hao Nhien continued recovering while handling everything that needed to be settled before his departure.

On the seventh day, the central square of Hoa Van Town was crowded once again.

The Huyen Bang arena still stood, though it was no longer intact. The largest cracks had been repaired, part of the protective formation had been rebuilt, and one section of stone still bore the blackened scars left by Shatter.

Hao Nhien did not stand on the arena.

He stood below it, in front of a simple stone platform erected temporarily.

Before him were the people of Hoa Van, merchants, rogue cultivators, members of the Sa Moc Tribe, people from Cat Loi, and representatives of forces belonging to the Three Cities. Not everyone had been allowed to crowd into the square. Luu Thanh had divided the area into sections and kept the main roads open, forbidding anyone from blocking the routes or gathering too closely around the arena.

After what had happened, Hoa Van had no intention of repeating a situation where tens of thousands of people could not retreat in time.

Hao Nhien wore a dark green robe.

His face was still slightly pale.

The aura of Foundation Establishment layer eight was restrained so deeply that he did not resemble someone who had just taken first place on the Huyen Bang. He looked more like a man who had only recently returned from the edge of death.

Luu Van stood to his left.

Luu Thanh stood to his right.

Quan Lam, Quan Khai, Quan Can, Lanh Hoa, Hoa Duong, and the others responsible for managing Hoa Van were all present.

Cat Thanh stood together with several elders from Cat Loi.

Lieu Thien Van stood farther away.

When the square had completely fallen silent, Hao Nhien finally spoke.

“I only have a few things to say.”

His voice was not loud, but spiritual power carried it far enough for everyone in the front and surrounding areas to hear clearly.

“The first concerns the Huyen Bang.”

He took the golden jade plaque from his storage ring and looked at it for a moment before continuing.

“I will not accept any more challenges.”

A few murmurs immediately rose from below.

Hao Nhien did not pause.

“First place or tenth place no longer matters to me. The Huyen Bang has already done what it needed to do in Hoa Van. People came. Trade caravans came. Combat arts that the young people here once knew only from stories have now been seen with their own eyes.”

He put the jade plaque away.

“That is enough.”

No one objected.

Many eyes unconsciously turned toward the arena behind him.

Hao Nhien continued.

“The final battle with Duong Quang was not an ordinary challenge either.”

The square gradually fell silent again.

“Duong Quang used the rules of the Huyen Bang as a shell. The real pressure came from the situation surrounding Cat Loi. If I dragged things out, Cat Loi would be pressured first. If the battle continued beyond control, the people paying the price would not have been limited to the two of us on the arena.”

Hao Nhien looked toward the blackened scars still visible on the stone.

“That is why I chose to pull him into the closest range possible.”

His voice slowed.

“Close enough that only the two of us had to pay the price.”

No one asked further.

Those who had been present that day understood exactly what those words meant.

Hao Nhien continued.

“Duong Quang died. I lived.”

He paused briefly.

“But I did not return by myself.”

The entire square fell silent.

“Tieu Lan used most of her essence blood and life force to pull me back from the gates of death. She is alive, but she still has not awakened.”

A collective breath seemed to leave the crowd.

Hao Nhien looked toward Luu Van.

“From today onward, the Hoa Van Treasure Pavilion will purchase any reliable lead connected to replenishing life force or restoring the source of life, whether it is a rare treasure, a pill formula, or an ancient record. If the information has a real basis, Hoa Van will pay a fair price.”

Luu Van stepped forward half a pace.

“Understood.”

Hao Nhien nodded, then looked back at the crowd.

“The last matter.”

This time, his gaze did not settle on any one person.

It passed across the roads, stalls, warehouses, water channels, newly built houses, and even the children standing beside their parents.

“I will be leaving Hoa Van soon.”

A wave of murmurs immediately spread through the square.

Hao Nhien raised one hand and waited until the noise gradually subsided.

“I do not know how long I will be gone, and I do not know exactly where I will go. I have several leads, but none are certain, and this journey will not be safe.”

He paused.

“So before I leave, I want to make one thing clear.”

Hao Nhien looked across all of Hoa Van.

“I did not build this place so that all of you would follow me. Nor did I build it so that one Heavenly Eye could simply be replaced by one Quan Hao Nhien.”

Several people near the front visibly paused.

“I want Hoa Van to be a place where people can come, work, trade, cultivate, bring their families to live, and, if one day they no longer wish to remain, leave as well.”

His voice was not loud.

“There should be no need to kneel.”

“And no need to ask another person for permission to decide your own life.”

The square remained very still.

“I do not know Heavenly Eye’s final purpose, nor do I know how many things remain hidden behind it that we have yet to see. But Duong Quang proved one thing.”

Hao Nhien looked toward the arena.

“They do not want a place like Hoa Van to continue existing.”

He was silent for a moment.

“But if Hoa Van collapses simply because I die, then Duong Quang was right.”

His gaze slowly returned to the people.

“I do not want him to be right.”

No one below spoke.

Hao Nhien continued.

“Hoa Van already has people responsible for security, construction, trade routes, alchemy, transport, and every clan has its own representatives. This place is no longer a camp that can only function when one person gives the order.”

He looked at those before him.

“Hoa Van is not me alone.”

“I may leave. I may be injured. One day I may even fail to return in time. But the laws here, the roads here, the water here, and your homes here should not disappear with me.”

An older man near the outer edge slowly clenched his fist.

Hao Nhien continued.

“I am not asking you to die for Hoa Van.”

The corner of his lips curved slightly.

“I want you to live here. Work. Raise your children. Earn spirit stones. Argue. Drink. Then open your shops again the next morning as though nothing happened.”

A few quiet laughs rose from the crowd.

But Hao Nhien’s gaze gradually cooled.

“And if one day someone tries to take away the right to live that way, then hold onto it.”

A man below spoke first.

“We will.”

The voice was not loud.

But it was clear.

A Hoa Ky warrior placed a fist against his chest.

“We will.”

A merchant standing beside a shuttered stall laughed.

“I spent plenty of spirit stones renting a shop here. If someone comes to smash it, of course I’m going to protect it.”

This time more laughter rose from the crowd.

Then isolated voices began joining one another.

“My home is here too.”

“We’ll protect it.”

“Protect Hoa Van.”

No one had given an order.

No slogan had been prepared.

Some spoke of their homes.

Some spoke of their shops.

Others simply placed a hand over their chest in silence.

Hao Nhien stood still and watched the scattered voices gradually connect. Some spoke of their houses, others of their shops, and some merely stood with a fist pressed to their chest. They did not need the same reason to want Hoa Van to remain, and that was exactly what he had always wanted.

This place had been built so people could live according to their own choices, not so that everyone would believe in the same man.

Yet just as the voices from across the square began merging into a wave, an extremely faint sensation brushed across Hao Nhien’s soul.

He paused.

What had touched him did not resemble spiritual power, nor did it resemble spiritual sense. It existed only for an instant, vague as countless threads reaching from different directions toward a single point before immediately dispersing.

The Soul Art circulated instinctively.

But when Hao Nhien tried to search for it, he found no trace.

His gaze slowly passed over the crowd.

In the distance, an old woman held both hands against her chest.

A Hoa Ky warrior pressed his fist to his breastplate.

A Cat Loi cultivator beside him merely lowered his head.

Several merchants were still talking among themselves about the shops and warehouses they wanted to protect.

No one performed the same gesture.

No single phrase was repeated in unison.

The only thing they seemed to share was the simple desire for this place to continue existing.

Hao Nhien did not understand where that feeling had come from.

But it vanished too quickly to investigate.

He merely remembered it, withdrew the Soul Art, and once again looked across the roads and buildings behind the crowd.

“I will return.”

Four ordinary words.

No date.

No promise of how long the journey ahead would take.

Yet the square remained quiet for only a moment before voices rose from every direction.

Some called him “Alliance Leader.”

The Hoa Ky warriors called him “Clan Chief.”

A few younger people simply shouted his name.

Different forms of address overlapped, but in the end they all centered on the same plea.

“Remember to come back!”

“Alliance Leader, you have to return!”

“Clan Chief!”

“Hao Nhien!”

Hao Nhien did not raise a sword.

He did not lift a hand in response.

He simply stood there and looked at the faces before him for a long time.

Only when the calls began to fade did he lower his head slightly.

“I’ll try.”

Night fell.

Hoa Van Town gradually returned to quiet.

Hao Nhien stood alone atop the western wall, letting the desert wind pass through his robes. Behind him, lights stretched along the roads and rows of buildings, joining into a broad glow in the middle of the desert.

Those were the things the people in the square had just said they would protect with their own hands.

He watched for a while longer before turning west.

Beyond the wall, the light ended quickly.

The desert disappeared into darkness and stretched all the way to the horizon, while the lands farther beyond still existed only in scattered pieces of information he had gathered over time.

Hao Nhien would leave Hoa Van.

This time, he would go farther west than ever before.