Cultivation starts with picking up attributes
Chapter 121: Ch-121: Had enough rest

Chapter 121: Ch-121: Had enough rest

Clouded Ember Village was nestled high among mist-laced cliffs, where the clouds rolled like waves and the sun filtered through them in golden streaks.

A chain of floating terraces spiraled down from a hovering mountain lake, warmed by spirit veins that birthed a natural hot spring network famous among rogue cultivators and exhausted sect disciples alike.

Tian Shen’s boots hit the floating dock with a faint clack. He exhaled slowly.

Feng Yin followed close behind, squinting against the glare of the rising sun.

"Smells like... jasmine and toasted cinnaberries."

Little Mei sniffed the air, acting more like a floating chaise than a proper war beast.

"And marshmallows. I detect marshmallows."

A squat old man in layered robes blinked at them from behind the check-in desk of the Spirit Springs Pavilion.

"You here to soak?"

"...Yup, to soak."

Tian Shen replied.

The old man eyed him up and down.

"Gpt it. Third terrace’s unclaimed. Comes with hot spring’s access, towels and a complimentary melon."

Tian Shen nodded.

"That’ll do."

...

Their private terrace hovered slightly above the lower cloud line. A shallow spirit array beneath the hot spring maintained a constant, soothing ripple of Qi.

It was warm but not scalding. The air buzzed softly with dormant arrays that glimmered with faint silver glyphs—wards for privacy, comfort, and optional romantic ambiance.

Tian Shen lowered himself into the water with a long, contented sigh.

"This may be the smartest decision I’ve made all year."

Feng Yin slid in beside him, letting her hair float loosely on the surface.

"Correction. I made this decision."

"I executed it."

"I bribed Master."

"I carried the snacks."

"I forged the permit."

"...Ok, Ok, I got it."

Nearby, Little Mei had taken over a bamboo tray stocked with honeyed buns and chilled fruit slices.

Drowsy floated belly-up in a shallow pool, blissfully absorbing Qi like a sun-charged sponge.

"I love vacation," Little Mei mumbled with her mouth full. "All of you are way less uptight when you’re pruny."

Feng Yin reached over and flicked a water droplet at her.

"Enjoy it. We only get three days before someone tries to summon us back."

"Mm. Speaking of—"

Tian Shen gestured lazily toward the edge of the terrace, where a formation plate was just beginning to vibrate with an incoming communication scroll.

Without moving, Little Mei extended one claw and poked a talisman taped to the scroll’s surface. The whole thing sizzled and then plopped harmlessly into a nearby basket labeled "Interruptions."

Feng Yin raised an eyebrow.

"I installed a notification trap," Little Mei said smugly. "Sect emergency alerts go bloop instead of buzz. I can tell by tone if it’s a real crisis or just Xu Wei misfiring another robe."

Tian Shen chuckled.

"You’re quite a paparazzi."

"What??"

...

As the sun climbed higher, the spring shimmered like glass, distorting their reflections into something slower, gentler.

Tian Shen closed his eyes, letting the warmth soak into his bones. He could feel the tightness in his shoulders ease, the buzz of cultivation pressure ebb just a little.

Beside him, Feng Yin exhaled.

"You know... we could stay longer."

"Hmmm."

He murmured.

A brief silence stretched between them—soft, content, filled only by the distant chirp of spirit birds and the bubbling hiss of the spring.

Then Feng Yin leaned her head on Tian Shen’s shoulder.

"You smell like peach wine."

He tilted his head to rest against hers.

"You smell like my wine."

"Flirty," she murmured.

"Always for you."

...

As the light faded and the terrace began to glow softly with spirit lanterns, Little Mei dragged over a board game she found in the staff closet.

It was dusty, arcane, and looked suspiciously like it might summon minor spirits if you played wrong.

Perfect vacation entertainment.

Drowsy acted as the dice roller—by sneezing them across the board.

Tian Shen and Feng Yin teamed up against the self-proclaimed "Crimson Cuddlepaws Alliance" of Little Mei and Drowsy.

The game devolved into accusations of cheating, impromptu rule rewrites, and Drowsy flipping the board in a passive-aggressive spiral.

Tian Shen laughed more that night than he had in months.

...

Day two involved exploring nearby floating trails—crystal paths winding through slow-falling clouds.

Feng Yin pointed out rare herbs growing on levitating moss beds. Tian Shen carved a miniature ward formation into a boulder just to make it hum in harmony with her laughter.

Little Mei bought an entire jar of candied fruit and tried to bribe a spirit crane into letting her ride it. The crane said yes.

They were escorted back to the hot springs an hour later by a very much bribed up Crane.

...

That night, Feng Yin brought out a music flute. It played old melodies—not quite human, not quite divine.

Tian Shen sang along softly. His voice was rough, but she didn’t mind. She just curled up beside him beneath the hovering lanterns, eyes closed.

"We really needed this," she murmured.

He didn’t answer with words. Just took her hand.

And held it tightly.

...

Day three arrived too soon.

They shared breakfast beside a warm rock pool, birds fluttering through the steam. Drowsy wore a crown made of flower garlands.

Little Mei was half asleep in a hammock she’d woven from silk thread and Qi-charged grass.

Tian Shen opened a jade scroll. His eyes narrowed.

"Jun Lin says everything’s fine."

Feng Yin glanced over.

"Is that good?"

"Too fine. Suspiciously fine. He ended with a smiley face."

Little Mei opened one eye.

"He’s bluffing. They’re hiding something."

Tian Shen sighed.

"Time to go?"

Feng Yin looked wistfully toward the spring.

"Soon."

She reached out and tugged him closer.

"But not now."

He didn’t argue.

He simply closed his eyes.

And held her a little tighter.

...

And across the sky, drifting high above the Sect and the chaos they left behind, three simple stars twinkled a little brighter—watching over a duddle head, his queen, his mischievous fox, and his very own divine chicken empress.

Tian Shen leaned back against the sun-warmed stones, Feng Yin nestled beside him beneath the same blanket. The soft rush of the spring filled the air like a lullaby, a final hymn of peace before the tide turned once again.

Drowsy floated overhead, crown slightly askew, eyes half-lidded in bliss as she absorbed ambient Qi from the drifting cloudbanks.

Her feathers shimmered like starlight against the mist, wings twitching lazily. She looked like a celestial beast on holiday—which, arguably, she was.

Little Mei gnawed slowly on a candied lotus, eyes fixed on the horizon where a flock of spirit gulls rode the wind.

"Hey," she said suddenly, licking sugar from her paw, "do you think if we kidnapped a cloud..."

Feng Yin groaned.

"We’re not kidnapping a cloud."

"Borrowing, then."

"We’re not borrowing a cloud either."

Little Mei looked dejected.

"Even if it had a cute face?"

Tian Shen raised an eyebrow.

"Clouds don’t have faces."

Little Mei pointed dramatically at the largest cloud in the sky, which—disturbingly—did seem to have a faintly smiling expression etched in mist.

"...Okay, maybe that one does."

Feng Yin admitted.

Tian Shen blinked slowly.

"We’re not touching it."

"Cluck~," Drowsy chimed softly, doing a graceful loop before diving through the cloud like a spirit bird greeting an old friend. The cloud wobbled slightly and released a low, musical hum.

"That’s going to cause weather anomalies somewhere."

Tian Shen muttered.

"I named him Bob."

Said Little Mei.

"He’s ours now."

Feng Yin snorted, but her smile stayed.

The moment held—for just a bit longer.

And then, a faint pulse shimmered through the communication scrolls tucked away in Tian Shen’s belt. Urgent messages appeared in neat script.

All from Jun Lin.

Feng Yin glanced over his shoulder.

"Well?"

Tian Shen’s brows twitched.

"Again?" Feng Yin said.

"It’s the fifth time," he sighed.

Little Mei stretched. "So... we heading back?"

Feng Yin stood, gathering her robes.

"We’ve had our rest. That means trouble’s ready for us."

Tian Shen rose slowly, his expression somewhere between longing and amused resignation.

"Back to the war zone, then."

But before they could leave, the pavilion host—a wrinkled old cultivator who’d kept his distance until now—approached, holding a small lacquered box.

"Before you go," he said, bowing deeply. "A gift. For bringing laughter to these quiet terraces."

Tian Shen accepted it. Inside were four fortune tokens, as a blessing for luck.

Each handmade.

Feng Yin read hers aloud.

"May your silence be full, your heart loud, and your lies always noble."

She smiled faintly.

"Fitting."

Tian Shen’s slip read—

"Even when the sword is sheathed, it sharpens those who walk beside it."

He folded it carefully, tucking it into his belt pouch.

Little Mei held hers to her forehead and declared—

"The fox who naps in gold dreams of stars."

She looked smug.

"Obviously prophetic."

Drowsy’s slip emitted a small chirp and exploded in glitter.

No one said a word.

Tian Shen just patted her head.

"...Let’s go back."

And with that, they stepped into the mist once more—stronger, happier, and still undeniably chaotic.

But for once, they returned not as warriors.

But as people.