The cold wind that had whipped at Li Chen’s shredded robes lingered, a phantom chill deep within his marrow, even as Yueling guided him through the deepening twilight back to his humble shack. Every muscle screamed in protest, each step an agony, yet a strange, detached stillness enveloped him. His body was a map of bruises and gashes, but beneath the superficial damage, something profound was stirring.
"Careful, Chen," Yueling whispered, her arm a gentle, steady support around his waist. Her touch, so warm and human, felt impossibly distant, a fragile beacon in the blizzard of divine energy that raged within him. "Just a little further."
The shack, usually a haven of quiet solitude, felt impossibly far. Li Chen stumbled through the low doorway, collapsing onto his straw mat with a grunt
