After settling into the mountainside sanctuary, Xiao Feng's days took on a new rhythm—one of calm, balance, and quiet progress. No longer burdened by the constant threat of ambush or the chaotic noise of cities, he now lived according to his own pace, surrounded by nature and nourished by the wind Dou Qi that flowed freely through the towering peaks.
The first thing he did after fully arranging the Tranquil Wind Pavilion was purchase a few new sets of clothing through the system. He chose simple plain white silk robes, loose-fitting and exceptionally comfortable. Though they looked modest, they were made from high-grade spiritual silk that gently adjusted to his body temperature and didn't restrict movement in battle or cultivation.
He changed into one of them that day—a loose, flowing robe with wide sleeves. The neckline hung slightly open, revealing his collarbones and the faint outline of his chest and abdomen. Of course, at nine years old, he was still developing, but the early lines of toned muscle were already visible, a quiet testament to the powerful Dou Qi coursing through his body and the intense physical demands of his training.
With the mansion fully operational and new clothes on, Xiao Feng entered a new phase of life—one not driven by desperation or immediate threats, but by intention and growth.
Mornings were slow and refreshing. After a full night of cultivation, he would step out onto the balcony, feeling the morning breeze against his face. Though he hadn't technically slept, his body and spirit felt completely renewed. That was the advantage of high-level cultivation techniques—once you advanced beyond a certain point, sleep became less about physical necessity and more about mental rhythm. For Xiao Feng, cultivation had replaced sleep, but the results were just as invigorating.
His morning routine varied. Some days, he would take a calm walk around the cliffside, observing the changing winds, the swaying wildflowers, or the shimmering surface of the lake below. Other mornings, he would leap off the cliff and glide on the air currents before diving straight into the lake's crystal-clear waters.
Swimming had become a favorite pastime. The lake was deep and cool, and diving beneath the surface helped him sharpen his control over internal Dou Qi circulation, especially while holding his breath. At times, he would simply float on the surface, eyes closed, letting the gentle waves rock his body. He enjoyed these moments of quiet. It reminded him of something simple and human—like the memories of peaceful days back on Earth, something soft and comforting in contrast to the brutal world of cultivation.
Of course, not all days were idle. Xiao Feng still trained rigorously—both physically and spiritually. He followed a strict rotation between meditation, movement-based Dou Qi control, and sword technique practice. He wouldn't allow his skills to dull, even in this peaceful place. The mountain winds were his allies and his teachers, helping him refine his understanding of the Wind element to greater precision each passing day.
Though he didn't need to eat, Xiao Feng still chose to hunt wild beasts from time to time. He would track one down, strike swiftly, and carry it back to his sanctuary. With care and attention, he would skin, clean, and roast the meat over a fire. He preferred it simple—just seasoned with herbs he picked from the surrounding cliffs. The meals were less about nourishment and more about pleasure, memory, and the grounding rhythm of life.
His pavilion had everything he needed: the hot spring bath for relaxation after training, the cultivation room where formations accelerated Dou Qi absorption, the study room where he occasionally wrote down ideas or practiced calligraphy. He even began using the rocking chair on the balcony more often—sometimes just sitting there for hours, listening to the wind, watching clouds drift past the mountains.
This mountain had become his world.
Time passed slowly, but it wasn't wasted. His cultivation rose steadily, his control grew finer, and his spirit grew calmer. Though only nine years old, his soul felt far older—shaped by struggle, solitude, and discipline.
For now, there was no need to rush. The Black-Corner Region, the dangers, the schemes—they could wait.
Here, in the stillness of the wind, Xiao Feng found a rare treasure:
Peace.