The dormitory was nestled within the inner section of the TengBang Sect, a sprawling building with elegant wooden beams and curved roofs that gleamed under the afternoon sunlight.

Disciples streamed in and out, some chattering excitedly about their exam results, while others moved in silence, their focus already shifting to the rigorous training ahead.

Chi Chi hummed as she stepped into the hallway, her small hands clutching a pouch of caramel candies.

She had been given a simple wooden key with the number Seventeen carved into it, and she now wandered through the rows of identical doors, tilting her head as she searched.

"Fifteen… Sixteen… Ah! Here it is!" She stopped before a door, gently pushing it open.

The room was modest but clean, with two neatly arranged beds, a single wooden table, and a shelf for storing personal belongings.

A soft breeze drifted in through the open window, carrying the scent of pinewood and fresh parchment.

However, Chi Chi barely had time to take in her surroundings before she noticed the other occupant of the room—Yue Xue.

The taller girl was already inside, sitting on the edge of her bed, methodically folding her few belongings with practiced efficiency.

Her dark, shoulder-length hair framed her face, and her sharp eyes flickered toward Chi Chi as soon as she entered. A brief silence settled between them.

Chi Chi, ever the optimist, beamed. “Oh! We’re roommates!” She clasped her hands together in delight. “That means we can be friends!”

Yue Xue stared at her, unimpressed. “No, it means we share a room.”

Chi Chi giggled, unfazed. She bounced over to her own bed and plopped down, reaching into her pouch before offering a candy. “Caramel?”

Yue Xue eyed the golden treat with clear suspicion. “You carry that with you everywhere?”

“Of course! Sweets make everything better.” Chi Chi held the candy closer, her golden-purple eyes twinkling like the evening sky. “You should try one. I promise it’s good!”

Yue Xue sighed but hesitated for only a second before finally taking the candy, rolling it between her fingers. “You’re too trusting.”

Chi Chi tilted her head. “And you’re too wary.”

Yue Xue frowned slightly but said nothing, instead unwrapping the candy and placing it in her mouth. A hint of surprise flashed in her eyes before she quickly masked it with indifference.

Chi Chi clapped her hands. “You like it, don’t you?”

“It’s… tolerable.”

Chi Chi giggled, then began unpacking her own things—which consisted mostly of a few robes, a small book, and an entire pouch of assorted sweets.

Yue Xue watched as Chi Chi clumsily dropped a robe, tried to pick it up, and somehow knocked over her book in the process.

Then, in an astonishing feat of unfortunate luck, she stepped on the fallen robe, lost her balance, and tumbled straight into her nightstand, sending sweets flying in every direction.

Yue Xue pinched the bridge of her nose. "How has she survived this long?"

After a moment, she sighed. “We have class early tomorrow. Don’t stay up late.”

Chi Chi grinned. “Are you worried about me, Yue Xue?”

“No,” Yue Xue said immediately.

Chi Chi simply giggled again, unbothered. "Then, I'll rely on you from now on, Big Sister Yue."

Yue Xue choked on her caramel.

The room had simple wooden furniture, a soft woven mat on the floor, and two beds tucked against opposite walls.

Chi Chi’s side of the room was already decorated with small trinkets—a neatly folded blanket with embroidery of golden flowers, a few colorful sweets stacked on the nightstand, and a small wooden rabbit figurine she had carved herself.

Yue Xue’s side, in contrast, was bare and practical, only a neatly arranged stack of books and a single, well-maintained sword resting against the bed frame.

________________

The lecture hall of the Tengbang Sect was a grand, open-air pavilion nestled within the heart of the sect’s sprawling grounds.

Towering pillars adorned with intricate carvings of ancient cultivators and mythical beasts framed the space, while the ceiling was woven with translucent spiritual silk, allowing natural sunlight to bathe the students in warmth.

Disciples sat on tiered wooden benches, whispering amongst themselves as they awaited the instructor’s arrival.

Chi Chi sat cross-legged near the middle, a small notebook resting on her lap.

She glanced at Yue Xue beside her, who had chosen a seat slightly apart from the others, arms crossed in quiet observation.

Many students in the class, especially the noble-born, avoided sitting too close to her. Chi Chi, however, had no such reservations.

She scooted a little closer and offered Yue Xue a piece of caramel, earning a brief, unreadable glance before the older girl sighed and took it without a word.

Before the murmurs grew too loud, a tall, middle-aged cultivator strode into the hall, his presence commanding instant silence.

His robes, embroidered with the sigil of the Tengbang Sect, billowed with each step, and his sharp gaze swept over the students like a hawk assessing prey.

“I am Instructor Mo Feng. For the next few months, I will be your guide in the fundamental principles of cultivation.” His voice was deep and unwavering.

“Some of you come from great sects, bearing names that have shaken the martial world. Others have no lineage to boast of, only the will to survive. But in this sect, your status means nothing. Only your comprehension and dedication will determine your future.”

The disciples straightened instinctively, sensing the weight of his words.

“Now, let us begin with the foundation of all cultivation—the path of internal energy.”

He turned, lifting a hand, and with a flick of his fingers, golden threads of spiritual energy shimmered into existence, swirling like tiny rivers in the air. Gasps rippled through the class.

“All living beings possess an innate life force. Cultivation is the process of refining, expanding, and manipulating this force, which we call spiritual energy,”

Mo Feng continued. “There are three fundamental aspects of cultivation: Essence, Qi, and Spirit.” He gestured to the golden threads.

“Essence is the foundation. It is drawn from the body, strengthened through disciplined training and medicinal supplements. A weak foundation leads to weak cultivation.”

He flicked his fingers, and the golden threads darkened, coiling sluggishly before dissipating.

“Qi is the active force. It is drawn from the world, absorbed through meditation and breathing techniques. Qi flows through meridians, fueling our techniques and refining our essence.”

A stronger pulse of energy ignited, the golden light flaring vibrantly before settling into a steady glow.

“Spirit is the mind’s control over both Essence and Qi. Without a tempered spirit, even the strongest Qi will scatter, and even the purest Essence will rot. This is why those who are weak-willed or lacking focus can never become true cultivators.”

Chi Chi hummed softly, writing down the concepts in a neat, flowing script. She already understood these principles, but she diligently took notes, letting her fingers move at a relaxed pace.

“Some of you may already practice techniques passed down from your families,”

Mo Feng continued. “But all techniques, regardless of origin, rely on these principles. Those who wish to cultivate successfully must first strengthen their foundation. Without solid fundamentals, talent means nothing.”

As he spoke, some students shot glances at Yue Xue, whose display in the entrance exam had left many wary of her strength.

Others, mostly the noble-born, sneered slightly, clearly convinced that their heritage alone would carry them forward.

Chi Chi caught the subtle glances and shook her head slightly, resting her chin on her palm.

"People are always so quick to assume things. Maybe they think glaring at someone is an actual cultivation technique. If that were true, our Yue Xue would be the strongest in the sect!"

Yue Xue coughed and turned away.

"To wield the sword effectively in cultivation," the instructor continued, "one must channel spiritual energy into the blade. Observe."

With a smooth motion, he lifted his sword, and the air around it shimmered. A faint, luminous glow surrounded the blade as the instructor demonstrated a simple yet powerful slash.

As the sword moved, the ground split slightly where the energy extended, showcasing its devastating potential. Gasps rippled through the students, eyes widening in awe.

Chi Chi tilted her head, committing the technique to memory. She could not use spiritual energy, but she could still analysed the instructor's movements—his stance, the shift in weight, the trajectory of the swing.

As the demonstration ended, the instructor gestured for the students to begin practicing basic sword forms.

Chi Chi quietly picked up her training sword, moving through the motions with careful precision but maintaining an air of slight clumsiness.

She let her movements appear just a little off-balance, ensuring she blended into the middle of the pack, neither remarkable nor incompetent.

As she practiced, a sharp voice rang out from the courtyard. "What’s the point of being here if all you do is glare at people? Are you even trying to learn?"

Chi Chi turned in time to see Yue Xue being addressed by a boy from a noble family. His stance was relaxed, but his tone carried clear disdain. "You fight like a mercenary. No grace, no refinement—just brute force. I doubt you'll ever master anything beyond mindless swinging."

A hush fell over the group. Yue Xue’s expression remained unreadable, but Chi Chi caught the faintest flicker of sadness in her eyes. Before Yue Xue could respond, Chi Chi stepped forward, her golden-purple eyes shimmering like a sunset.

“That’s an interesting thought,” she mused. “But have you considered how words shape the world?”

The boy blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

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She smiled gently at the boy. "Do you know why words can be more dangerous than a sword?"

The boy frowned. "Why?"

"A sword can wound the body, but words can wound the heart. And wounds of the heart take much longer to heal," she explained in a tone so kind, so warm, that it sent an odd shiver through the onlookers.

"You’re strong, aren’t you? A future cultivator, destined for greatness? Then surely, you must understand that true strength isn’t just about skill but also about character. A strong heart lifts others up, not tears them down."

Chi Chi clasped her hands behind her back, smiling patiently. “If you speak with kindness, you will create kindness. If you speak with malice, you will invite malice.”

She stepped closer, her voice warm, yet holding an unmistakable weight. “If you say cruel things, then one day, someone crueler will say worse things about you. Wouldn’t that be sad?”

The boy stiffened slightly, his confidence wavering. “I-I was just joking.”

Chi Chi’s smile didn’t waver. “Then it’s good to recognize that words matter. Maybe next time, you could choose a joke that doesn’t hurt someone else.”

A beat of silence passed.

The boy shifted uncomfortably, his arrogance faltering under the weight of Chi Chi’s words. His gaze darted to Yue Xue, then back to Chi Chi, before he exhaled and muttered, “Sorry.”

Chi Chi beamed. "It’s good to say things that help others rather than hurt them, right?" She held out a caramel candy to him. "Here, something sweet to make up for the bitterness."

The boy hesitated, then, to everyone’s surprise, took it with an awkward nod before retreating.

Yue Xue, who had been silent the entire time, stared at Chi Chi with unreadable eyes.

Chi Chi plopped back down beside Yue Xue, sighing dramatically while offering her a caramel. “Being mean takes so much effort. I don’t know how people do it.”

Yue Xue studied her for a long moment before sighing and popping the caramel into her mouth.

"I've said it before and I'll say it again. You're too nice."

Chi Chi giggled. "I get that a lot." She popped another caramel into her mouth before whispering, "But I think you’re really strong, Yue Xue. I just want people to see that too."

As they walked back to their dormitory later that evening, Yue Xue muttered, “…You didn’t have to do that.”

Chi Chi beamed up at her. “Of course I did! That’s what big sisters do.”

Yue Xue stopped walking. “What?”

Chi Chi grabbed her arm with both hands and grinned. “From now on, you’re my big sister, and I’m your little sister. You’ll protect me, and I’ll give you sweets. It’s a perfect deal!”

Yue Xue opened her mouth to protest but… didn’t. She just sighed and let Chi Chi drag her along.

For the first time in a long time, she didn’t mind.

Yue Xue found herself watching Chi Chi a little longer than before, a strange warmth settling in her chest.

Maybe, having a roommate like her wouldn’t be so bad.

___________________

The night was restless. A cold wind whispered through the courtyard, carrying the scent of damp earth and pine.

The moon hung high in the sky, its pale glow casting long, eerie shadows against the dormitory walls. The silence stretched, vast and heavy, like the space between stars.

Chi Chi stirred in her bed, her golden-violet eyes fluttering open, blinking sleepily. Something felt… wrong.

Then it hit her.

The room was missing a Yue Xue.

She sat up groggily, rubbing her golden-violet eyes. Yue Xue’s bed was empty, the blankets neatly folded as if she had never even slept there.

Chi Chi frowned. Had she been kidnapped? No… who would be stupid enough to try stealing Yue Xue? That was like poking an angry spirit beast with a stick.

Maybe she had gone to the bathroom?

Slipping out of bed, she carefully tiptoed to the door and peeked outside. The halls were quiet, the only sound coming from the rustling leaves outside. A faint instinct tugged at her chest, leading her toward the courtyard.

Following her gut, Chi Chi stepped into the cool night air, the scent of damp earth and pine filling her lungs.

Chi Chi shuffled into her slippers and wrapped her blanket around herself like a walking dumpling. The night air nipped at her skin as she walked past the training grounds, her steps slow and lazy.

The thought of sleep still clung to her, like a cat that refused to get off a warm lap.

And then she saw her.

Yue Xue sat at the edge of the pond, staring into the water as if she were expecting it to stare back. The moon’s reflection shimmered on the surface, painting the scene in silver light.

Chi Chi slowed her steps, watching as the older girl gazed at the water, her reflection rippling beneath the starry sky.

There was a stillness to her posture, but it wasn’t the composed stillness she usually carried—it was heavier, quieter, filled with something deeper.

Chi Chi didn’t like seeing her like that.

She looked so still, so quiet, that for a brief moment, Chi Chi wondered if she should leave her alone.

…Nah.

“Yue Xue,” Chi Chi called out, her voice slightly muffled by the blanket she had pulled over her mouth. “Are you having a dramatic main character moment?”

Yue Xue didn’t even flinch. “Go back to bed, Chi Chi.”

Chi Chi waddled closer like a little dumpling ghost and plopped down beside her. “Nope.”

Silence stretched between them. The wind rustled the reeds, carrying the scent of lotus flowers. Yue Xue’s face was blank, her expression carved from stone, but Chi Chi wasn’t fooled.

Something was wrong.

Chi Chi tugged her blanket tighter around herself and stared at Yue Xue. “If you tell me what’s wrong, I’ll give you a caramel.”

Yue Xue let out a slow, tired sigh. “…That’s bribery.”

“I prefer the term persuasive kindness.”

A ghost of a smirk twitched on Yue Xue’s lips, but it was gone just as quickly. She exhaled, eyes fixed on the rippling pond.

“My mother died when I was six.”

Chi Chi blinked. The shift in tone was so sudden that she sobered up instantly. She said nothing, only waited.

“She was soft,” Yue Xue continued, her voice quieter now. “Too soft for my father’s liking. He was a war hero, a man of steel, and she… she was delicate, like glass. She loved music, flowers, painting. Things he thought were useless.”

She scoffed, but there was no humor in it. “She used to play the flute for me at night, and I would fall asleep listening to her songs. But when she died… everything went silent.”

Chi Chi’s fingers curled around the edge of her blanket.

Yue Xue’s hands tightened into fists. “My father didn’t mourn her. He barely spoke of her after she was gone. He only cared about turning me into a warrior. He used to say that emotions made you weak, that kindness was a flaw.”

Her jaw clenched. “I believed him.”

The pond reflected the moon, shifting with the breeze. The night felt colder now.

“I trained every day. I bled, I bruised, I broke bones, but I never cried. Not once.” Yue Xue’s voice wavered just slightly, and that tiny crack made Chi Chi’s heart ache.

“But even when I became strong, it was never enough. He looked at me and saw nothing but failure. Because I wasn’t him. Because I was just a girl who should have died instead of my mother.”

A shiver ran through Chi Chi—not from the cold, but from the weight of those words.

Her chest ached for the girl beside her. Yue Xue had always carried herself with such quiet strength, but beneath that armor was someone who had never been allowed to be anything else.

Yue Xue let out a bitter laugh. “I tell myself I don’t care. That his approval means nothing. But some nights… some nights, I wonder if he was right. If strength is the only thing I have left.”

Chi Chi’s chest tightened. This wasn’t just a story—this was a wound. A deep, festering wound that Yue Xue had carried alone for years. And suddenly, it made sense.

The coldness, the distance, the way she never let anyone too close. She had built walls around herself, high and unshakable, because no one had ever given her a reason to believe it was safe to lower them.

Chi Chi stared at her for a long moment. Then, without hesitation, she reached into her pocket, pulled out a caramel candy, and pressed it into Yue Xue’s hand.

Yue Xue blinked, startled. “What—”

“You’re not just strong,” Chi Chi said firmly. “You’re also kind.”

“You know,” she said softly, “you don’t have to be strong all the time.”

Yue Xue stared at the candy in her hand. “What else is there?”

Chi Chi smiled, warm and kind. “There’s kindness. There’s laughter. There’s eating something sweet just because it makes you happy.” She nudged Yue Xue playfully. “There’s having a little sister who sneaks out at midnight to bother you.”

Yue Xue huffed a quiet laugh. “I didn’t ask for a little sister.”

Chi Chi grinned. “Well, too bad. You have one now.”

For the first time since Chi Chi had met her, Yue Xue’s expression softened completely. The guarded walls she always had up weren’t gone, but there was a small crack in them now.

She unwrapped the caramel and popped it into her mouth. After a pause, she muttered, “It’s sweet.”

Chi Chi beamed. “See? Sweet things make everything better.”

“And for the record,” Chi Chi added, “your father sounds like an absolute turnip.”

Yue Xue choked on a laugh. “A… what?”

“A turnip. A grumpy, oversized, emotionally constipated turnip.”

For the first time since they met, Yue Xue actually laughed. It was quiet, barely there, but it was real. Chi Chi beamed.

Yue Xue looked down at the caramel in her palm. Her fingers tightened around it, and after a moment, she whispered, “Thank you.”

Chi Chi grinned. “See? Caramel really does fix everything.”

Yue Xue shook her head but didn’t let go of the candy.

Chi Chi smiled softly. “I think your mother would have loved to see you now.”

Yue Xue sucked in a sharp breath, and for the first time, her mask cracked completely. Her lips trembled, her eyes glistened under the moonlight, and she looked so lost, so painfully human, that Chi Chi couldn’t help but reach out and hold her hand.

Yue Xue didn’t pull away.

The night air was still cool, but it no longer felt lonely.

And for the first time in a long time, Yue Xue felt like she wasn’t carrying her burdens alone.

______________________

As Chi Chi sat beside Yue Xue, the warmth of her small hand pressing against Yue Xue’s trembling fingers, a familiar soft chime echoed in her mind.

Ding!

BunBun’s cheerful voice rang out, breaking the quiet moment.

"Congratulations, host! You have earned 5,000 points! Your total is now 10,000!"

Chi Chi blinked, startled. “That’s… a lot. Why so many?”

For once, BunBun’s usually playful tone softened.

"Because you changed her fate."

Chi Chi tilted her head. “Changed her fate?”

A heavy silence stretched between them before BunBun finally spoke again, its voice uncharacteristically solemn.

"If you hadn’t interfered, Yue Xue would have kept suppressing her emotions. That wound in her heart would never have healed. She would have pushed herself recklessly, desperate to prove she didn’t need anyone. That self-destructive mindset would have stalled her cultivation at a critical moment."

BunBun paused, as if hesitating. Then, it continued.

"One year from now, she would have been sent on a sect mission—to investigate a demonic cultivator’s hideout. Because of her slow progress, she would still be too weak to fight. The battle would have been swift… but brutal."

Chi Chi’s breath caught. “She… would have died?”

"Not immediately." BunBun’s voice was quieter now.

"She would have been captured first. Tortured. Her pride wouldn’t let her beg for her life, so they would have relished breaking her spirit before finally killing her."

A cold shiver ran down Chi Chi’s spine. Her gaze flickered to Yue Xue, whose face, even in sleep, was still drawn with exhaustion.

Her hands curled into fists.

"But now?" BunBun’s tone brightened, as if trying to lift the weight in the air.

"Because you were kind to her, she let go of some of her pain. Because she let go, she is no longer shackled by it. She will grow stronger—faster. When that mission comes, she won’t die."

Chi Chi swallowed, her chest tightening. Then, slowly, she exhaled.

“…I see.”

She glanced down at Yue Xue’s peaceful expression, her breathing finally steady.

“…Then I should help her more,” she murmured.

"Great idea! Oh! Host, would you like to upgrade the system? For just 500 points, you can unlock the ‘Favorability Viewing’ feature! You’ll be able to see how people feel about you in numerical values~"

Chi Chi hesitated, then nodded. “Do it.”

"Upgrade confirmed! 500 points deducted. New balance: 9,500 points! Favorability Viewing unlocked!"

A soft ripple of golden light spread through her vision before fading away.

"Would you like to check Yue Xue’s favorability towards you?"

Chi Chi pursed her lips. "Yes."

A small, translucent window appeared in front of her.

[Yue Xue’s Favorability: 12/100 – Wary Tolerance]

(She no longer sees you as an enemy, but she doesn’t fully trust you yet. She is still on guard, but part of her wants to believe in your kindness.)

Chi Chi giggled softly. “She’s really stubborn.”

"Very! But progress is progress!"

The system screen changed back to the store. Chi Chi’s eyes scanned the list, searching for something perfect for Yue Xue.

Then, she saw it.

[Shadowed Plum Petal Sword Dance] – 100 Points

A sword technique designed for those with unwavering determination. It balances precision with adaptability, allowing the user to counter stronger opponents through technique rather than brute strength. Ideal for those with deep emotional scars, as it harmonizes mind and blade, refining both skill and spirit.

Chi Chi’s lips curled into a small smile. “This one.”

"Purchase confirmed! 100 points deducted. New balance: 9,400 points!"

A soft golden glow shimmered before her, and a small jade scroll materialized in her hands. She traced her fingers over its smooth surface before carefully placing it beside Yue Xue.

“If I can change fate,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, “then I’ll make sure hers is a good one.”

______________________

Morning sunlight filtered through the window, casting warm golden hues across the room. Chi Chi sat cross-legged on the floor, absentmindedly munching on a steamed bun while watching Yue Xue stir from her sleep.

Yue Xue blinked groggily, then immediately froze. Her hand shot to her face, patting it frantically.

Chi Chi tilted her head. “What are you doing?”

Yue Xue’s eyes widened in horror. “Did I… did I sleep with my mouth open?”

Chi Chi pretended to think deeply, tapping her chin. “Hmmm… Well, there was this tiny little snore. But I’m not one to judge.”

Yue Xue’s face turned crimson, and she groaned, pulling the blanket over her head. “Please, no! Don’t tell me you saw!”

Chi Chi chuckled, tossing the last bite of her bun in the air and catching it in her mouth like a mischievous kitten. “I might’ve seen a little... but who’s counting? Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone about your midnight opera.”

Yue Xue’s muffled voice came from under the blankets. “I’m leaving this place. Right now.”

Chi Chi tugged at the corner of the blanket, her smile widening. “Not so fast! I’ve got something way better than buns for you.”

Yue Xue peered cautiously from beneath the blanket, squinting like she didn’t trust Chi Chi’s antics. “Is it a really big bun?”

Chi Chi rolled her eyes dramatically, holding her hands out in mock exasperation. “It’s not a bun, you little food monster. It’s something way cooler.” With a flourish, she pulled out the small jade scroll, presenting it with a playful bow. “Ta-da! I think this is perfect for you.”

Yue Xue eyed the scroll suspiciously, then narrowed her gaze at Chi Chi. “What is this? Did you steal it?”

Chi Chi gasped, her hand clutching her chest as if wounded. “Steal it?! How could you think that about me?” She raised her chin in mock indignation. “I’m a model of honesty.”

Yue Xue raised an eyebrow, not buying it for a second. “Sure you are.”

Yue Xue eyed the scroll, then Chi Chi, then the scroll again. Slowly, she sat up and took it, her fingers tracing the elegant carvings on the jade. “This is…”

Chi Chi beamed. “A sword technique! The Shadowed Plum Petal Sword Dance. It’s really strong! It doesn’t rely on raw power but precision and adaptability. It’s perfect for someone like you.”

Yue Xue looked deeply unconvinced.

Chi Chi pouted. “Fine! If you don’t believe me, I can take it back.”

Instantly, Yue Xue hugged the scroll to her chest. “No! Mine!”

Chi Chi raised an eyebrow. “So now you want it?”

“…Shut up.” Yue Xue carefully placed the scroll in her robes, as though afraid it might disappear. Then she glanced away, ears still faintly pink. “Thank you,” she mumbled.

Chi Chi’s grin widened. “You’re welcome~”

Yue Xue sighed, rubbing her temples. “I don’t know if I should be grateful or worried that you’re so weird.”

Chi Chi nodded enthusiastically. “Be both!”

Yue Xue groaned. “What have I gotten myself into…”