After the battle between the Phoenix and Dragon Dojo's mysterious master and the infamous Blood Fang gang leader, Bu Fang, the entire district had fallen into a dead silence.

The streets that once buzzed with vendors and wandering cultivators now felt hollow—abandoned, stripped of life. Even the nearby shops that had continued business through thick and thin had boarded their doors, refusing customers as if the very air carried death.

But time was a strange force.

Fear faded. Memory dulled. Curiosity returned.

And for the first time since the earth-shattering battle, shadows began creeping toward the dojo's perimeter—lone Qi Refining cultivators, cloaked in ragged robes, eyes darting around with a mix of greed and terror.

Each step closer was taken with the same caution as tiptoeing into a tiger's den.

The first to approach dangerously close was an elderly cultivator with a head full of disheveled white hair. Old Jia—known throughout the city not for his strength, but for his cunning and shameless ability to survive any disaster.

The crowd watched him like hungry wolves watching a rabbit approach a lion's jaw.

If the Dojo Master appeared…

If a streak of purple lightning tore the heavens once more…

If this old fool died…

They would scatter without hesitation.

But the attack they feared never came.

Old Jia's wrinkled face split into a wild grin.

"Hahaha! Heaven favors the bold!"

With sudden vigor that didn't suit his age, he darted forward and slipped inside an abandoned building nearest the dojo. The moment he crossed the threshold, he slapped multiple runes onto the walls, sealing the place shut.

He intended to stay hidden until the demon disaster passed—or until he successfully broke through to Foundation Building.

The crowd murmured in confusion.

"Old Jia is really deceptive…" a middle-aged woman whispered, stunned. She had known the old fox for years. "While the rest of us are hiding like frightened rats, that fossil dares to step straight into the lion's mouth. Boldness like that… it deserves praise."

"Hmph. What guts?" a young man beside her snorted coldly. "If he had even half this courage earlier, he would've reached Foundation Building long ago. I've never seen anyone as cowardly as Old Jia."

The woman scowled but said nothing.

Others chimed in—some admiring, some mocking, all secretly envious.

But it only took minutes before they completely forgot the old man and turned their focus to their own survival. One by one, the cultivators rushed toward the deserted buildings around the dojo, scrambling to occupy the structures closest to the Phoenix and Dragon Dojo.

Because in their minds—

If the dojo master hadn't killed that old fool… maybe he truly had a change of heart.

Maybe the Phoenix and Dragon Dojo was willing to shelter people in these troubled times.

A foolish belief.

A naive dream.

But desperate cultivators clung to it anyway, hoping the shadow of the dojo's master could shield them from the looming demon disaster.

Among the crowd inching toward the Phoenix and Dragon Dojo, two heavily cloaked figures moved with a pace that stood out—not frantic or fearful like the others, but firm, steady, and laced with quiet resolve.

While the rest wore panic and suspicion like second skins, these two radiated a different kind of tension—wary, yes, but not desperate. Their steps showed purpose, not blind terror.

A sudden gust of wind surged through the narrow street, catching the edges of their cloaks and snapping the heavy fabric tight against their bodies. For a brief instant, the outlines of their figures were revealed—slender waists, smooth curves, and very prominent twin peaks that strained rebelliously against the confines of the robes.

The wind vanished as quickly as it came.

The cultivators around them, too occupied with their own survival, failed to appreciate the fleeting glimpse of beauty that had just passed before their eyes.

Just as the cloaks settled, a high-pitched, scolding voice rang out from beneath one of the hoods.

"Big sister! How many times have I told you to stop eating chocolates? Look at you—you're getting fat! Your chest is bigger than my head! At this rate, no one is going to marry you…"

The slender veiled figure hissed the words hurriedly, her voice both chastising and anxious, as though afraid the heavens themselves might hear.

Zhirou had barely finished speaking before her "big sister" reacted.

A hand lashed out like lightning.

Pinch!

Zhirou's cheeks were instantly caught between two merciless fingers.

Her muffled squeal echoed faintly.

The taller cloaked woman leaned down, her voice low and dangerous—but still carrying that inexplicable softness only an elder sister could muster.

"Little Zhirou, how many times have I told you not to make fun of your big sister?" she whispered sharply. "And I am NOT fat! This is just how a cultured, mature female body is supposed to be. Just wait until you grow up…"

Her tone softened at the end, almost smug.

Zhirou squinted up at her through squished cheeks, suspicion radiating from her eyes so clearly it could cut stone.

Her big sister's explanation did not convince her in the slightest.

To Zhirou, the truth was simple.

Big sister was getting fat.

Big sister refused to admit she was getting fat.

Big sister was delusional.

But Zhirou valued her life.

So she did not say any of this aloud.

Fang Zhirou pouted dramatically, rolling her eyes hard enough to see the back of her skull. Before she could say anything else, the girl she called big sister—Fang Biyu—gave her a light smack on the head.

"Have you forgotten why you're here?" Fang Biyu scolded softly. "You came to help me, not cause trouble."

Her hands were beautiful—smooth, snow-white, soft like fresh cotton candy without a single blemish. But to Fang Zhirou, those gentle hands might as well have been forged from heavy iron. One tap and her eyes instantly welled up with tears.

She opened her mouth, ready to let out a long wail that could shake the heavens—but then she remembered their mission. She gritted her teeth, sucked in a shaky breath, and quickly wiped the crystal droplets from the corners of her eyes. She had to stay strong… for her big sister.

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