Chapter 165: A Moment of Respite

As the intelligence puzzle grew increasingly complete and the plan’s contours sharpened, an escalating tide of pressure weighed heavily on everyone’s hearts.

Su Mian’s training intensity, far from decreasing, only intensified further.

The simulated environment’s harshness, the relentless attack frequency, and the psychological pressure now pushed her close to the very brink of her endurance.

Each day, after training, she emerged as if dragged from water, her training clothes drenched, her spirit so utterly exhausted it verged on numbness.

Only with the special nutrient solutions prepared by Xiao Moyuan and the gentle spiritual energy aiding her recovery could she barely manage her basic meditation before sinking into a dreamless, profound sleep.

Yet, she gritted her teeth and persevered, never once complaining.

Within her clear eyes, beyond the growing resilience, lay a forcibly suppressed anxiety concerning Shen Zhixia’s predicament.

She channeled all her emotions into the ferocity of her training, each dodge, each counterattack, each mobilization of her bloodline power to resist erosion, imbued with a desperate, make-or-break resolve.

Xiao Moyuan observed everything. He understood the danger better than anyone.

A string could snap; a person could break.

Especially Su Mian, whose growth in power was intimately linked to her temperament and emotions. Constant high-pressure might not necessarily be beneficial.

Thus, one evening, after a training session that concluded slightly earlier than usual, as she dragged her nearly shattered body from the training room and habitually reached for the refrigerator to retrieve a nutrient solution, Xiao Moyuan intercepted her.

“Not this today,” he stated, taking the bottle from her hand, his tone brooking no argument.

Su Mian looked up, bewildered, her face still pale from the excessive exertion.

“Then… what should I eat?” Her mind, crammed with training content, struggled to process the question.

Xiao Moyuan offered no reply, simply turning and walking into the kitchen.

Su Mian stood rooted, listening to the sounds emanating from the kitchen: the rush of water, the rhythmic thud of chopping, and the faint clatter of pots and pans.

These sounds, incredibly clear and remarkably unfamiliar in the quiet apartment, filled the space.

Ever since they had entered a state of readiness, their meals had largely been replaced by efficient but bland nutritional supplements and takeout. It had been a long time since Xiao Moyuan had personally cooked.

Approximately half an hour later, the aroma of food wafted from the kitchen.

“Come here,” Xiao Moyuan’s voice called out.

Su Mian, obeying, walked to the dining room.

On the table, a simple three-dish, one-soup spread awaited: stir-fried seasonal vegetables, glistening green and vibrant; braised beef brisket with tomatoes, its sauce rich and the beef tender; a steamed sea bass, drizzled with a thin layer of scallion oil and sprinkled with verdant spring onions; and a steaming hot corn and pork rib soup.

All were home-style dishes, yet their preparation and presentation clearly showed thoughtful effort.

The rice, served in bowls, was perfectly fluffy, each grain distinct, exuding an inviting sheen.

“Sit down, eat.” Xiao Moyuan had already untied his apron and sat opposite her, picking up his own chopsticks.

Su Mian sat down, a little flustered, gazing at the steaming dishes before her. Then, her eyes fell upon Xiao Moyuan, who was calmly serving himself, seeming utterly composed.

For a moment, she felt completely at a loss.

Recently, they had either hastily eaten separately or swallowed cold food while discussing plans. Sitting down together for a proper dinner like this felt like something from a bygone era.

“Why are you spacing out?” Xiao Moyuan placed a piece of deboned fish into her bowl. “Protein and good fats are more substantial than nutrient solutions.”

The fish, pure white, was infused with the savory freshness of soy sauce. Su Mian picked it up, cautiously bringing it to her mouth.

The fish was tender and delicious, its simple seasoning evoking a long-forgotten taste of ‘home’. Her nose suddenly stung, and she quickly lowered her head, taking a large mouthful of rice, mumbling, “It’s good.”

Xiao Moyuan seemed not to notice her momentary lapse, serving her a bowl of soup. “Eat slowly.”

The meal passed in quiet, punctuated only by the soft clinking of bowls and chopsticks.

Yet the atmosphere was utterly different from days past. There was none of the heavy tension of planning discussions, nor the distant haste of individual meals.

An odd, gentle tranquility settled between them, like an invisible warm veil, temporarily shielding them from the outside storm and inner turmoil.

Su Mian was initially reserved, but gradually relaxed under the warm comfort of the food and Xiao Moyuan’s occasional gestures of serving her.

She sipped her soup, feeling the warm liquid slide down her throat into her stomach, bringing a tangible sense of warmth and fullness. Her exhaustion seemed to dissipate with this comforting heat.

After dinner, Xiao Moyuan began clearing the dishes. Su Mian offered to help, but he gently rebuffed her with a simple, “Sit.”

She settled onto the sofa, clutching a soft cushion, watching Xiao Moyuan efficiently wash dishes at the kitchen sink.

The warm yellow light outlined his tall silhouette, the gush of water mixing with the faint hum of the city night outside. This scene was incredibly ordinary, yet so precious that it made something deep within Su Mian swell slightly.

Once tidied, Xiao Moyuan dried his hands and walked into the living room. However, neither of them immediately went to the study to handle affairs or review plans, as was their custom.

He sat down at one end of the sofa, picked up the remote, and casually turned on the television. He didn’t switch to his usual news or documentary channels, but stopped on one playing a lighthearted variety show.

The boisterous, cheerful music and the laughter of the guests instantly filled the living room, a stark contrast to the preceding silence of their combat-ready state.

Su Mian glanced at Xiao Moyuan with a hint of surprise, but he merely leaned back slightly, his gaze fixed on the television screen, his profile appearing less stern in the shifting light and shadow.

Su Mian, too, found herself involuntarily drawn into the show’s nonsensical games. Her tightly pressed lips subtly relaxed, even curving into a faint smile at a particularly comical scene.

A trace of extremely faint amusement flickered in her eyes.

She subtly adjusted her posture, making herself more comfortable, unconsciously kneading the cushion in her arms.

Halfway through the program, commercials began to play.

“You’ve been too tense lately,” Xiao Moyuan suddenly remarked, his voice clear and calm against the background of the advertisements.

Su Mian paused, turning to look at him.

Xiao Moyuan’s gaze shifted from the television to her. His eyes no longer held their usual sharpness of scrutiny, evaluation, or instruction, but instead carried a rare, almost gentle tranquility.

“A string pulled too tight will snap. So will a person. Appropriate relaxation is for better preparation for the battles ahead. This isn’t laziness; it’s a necessary adjustment.”

It was rare for him to speak at such length to explain himself.

Su Mian’s small unease, born from ‘stealing a moment of leisure,’ was instantly smoothed away. She softly hummed in acknowledgment, turning her gaze back to the television, her heart feeling warm. He had seen it all, after all.

The commercials ended, and the show resumed.

Neither spoke again, simply sitting side by side on the sofa, watching the trivial antics on the screen. Su Mian’s tail had, at some point, quietly emerged, swaying gently behind her with contented small movements, her ears soft and drooping, revealing a completely relaxed posture.

Xiao Moyuan’s peripheral vision caught the slight flick of the white tail tip, and the corner of his mouth twitched almost imperceptibly for a moment.

Time flowed slowly in this almost luxurious tranquility. After an unknown period, the variety show concluded, and a slow-paced old movie began to play.

As Su Mian watched, her eyelids began to droop. The day’s grueling training, the satisfying meal, and the current secure, relaxed atmosphere acted as the most potent sleep aid, allowing her accumulated fatigue to surge over her like a tide.

Her head began to nod, her body unconsciously tilting towards the source of warmth—Xiao Moyuan.

Xiao Moyuan sensed the movement beside him and turned his head. He saw Su Mian with her eyes closed, her long eyelashes casting quiet shadows beneath her lids, her breathing even and deep.

She was leaning, her head poised to hit the sofa’s hard armrest.

He hesitated for barely a moment, then reached out, gently cradling her sliding head. He adjusted his own posture, allowing her head to rest steadily on his shoulder.

His movements were fluid and natural, as if practiced a thousand times.

In her sleep, Su Mian unconsciously snuggled, finding a more comfortable position, letting out a satisfied sigh, and falling into an even deeper slumber.

Her tail also unconsciously curled over, resting lightly on Xiao Moyuan’s leg, its fluffy touch conveying warmth through his thin loungewear.

Xiao Moyuan’s body stiffened for a moment, then slowly relaxed.

He remained still, allowing Su Mian to lean against him, her tail draped over his leg. The movie’s dialogue on the television became a blurred background sound.

His gaze rested on Su Mian’s peaceful sleeping face, his usually stern brows and eyes unbelievably softened in the shifting light and shadows from the screen.

He reached out, with extreme gentleness, to tuck a stray strand of hair from her cheek behind her ear, his fingertip brushing her soft skin inadvertently, lingering for a moment before withdrawing.

***

Outside the window, night deepened, myriad household lights echoing the sparse stars in the sky. Inside the apartment, warm lights flickered, and the movie’s glow danced, illuminating the two figures nestled on the sofa.

A brief calm before the war, a fleeting moment of tenderness amidst surrounding danger—like dew clinging to a cold blade, fragile, yet shimmering with a light potent enough to illuminate the deepest corners of the heart.

Xiao Moyuan maintained his posture, not checking the time, nor dwelling on unfinished plans or lurking crises.

He simply sat quietly, feeling the real weight and warmth on his shoulder, listening to the soft, even breaths beside him.

In this moment, there was no demon hunter, no Nine-Tailed Celestial Fox, no imminent battle of life and death—only two ordinary people warming each other in a cold world.

Perhaps this was what they fought for, what they wished to protect—not just the safety of others, nor merely to thwart evil schemes, but also these ordinary, warm moments, belonging solely to them.

After an unknown length of time, as the movie neared its end, Xiao Moyuan carefully shifted his slightly numb shoulder. “Su Mian, go sleep in your bed,” he whispered.

Su Mian mumbled a vague “Mm?” She didn’t wake, instead snuggling deeper into his embrace.

Xiao Moyuan paused, a flicker of helplessness crossing his eyes. Ultimately, he abandoned the idea of waking her.

He adjusted his posture, slipped one hand beneath her bent knees, and the other around her back. With a slight exertion of strength, he lifted her horizontally into his arms.

Su Mian frowned slightly at the sensation of weightlessness, but upon smelling his familiar, comforting scent, her brow smoothed. She instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck, finding a more comfortable spot in the crook of his neck, and drifted back into deep sleep.

Carrying her, Xiao Moyuan walked steadily towards her bedroom. He gently placed her on the bed, pulling the duvet over her with care. Moonlight filtered through the gap in the curtains, falling upon her peaceful sleeping face.

He stood by the bed for a moment, looking down at her sleeping form. He reached out, his knuckles brushing her cheek with extreme gentleness.

“Sleep well,” he murmured, then turned, quietly withdrew from the room, and softly closed the door.

Returning to the living room, he turned off the television, and the world reverted to silence.

Yet, the lingering warmth seemed to persist in the air. Xiao Moyuan walked to the window, gazing at the deep darkness in the direction of Luoxia Mountain.

His eyes regained their razor-sharp intensity, but deep within them, there seemed to be an unprecedented, even calmer and firmer strength.

Tenderness could be a weakness, yet it was also armor.

To protect this fleeting warmth, he was willing to become the sharpest blade, cleaving through all darkness and obstacles ahead.

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