Amidst the Waves [Wuthering Waves]

*Fizzle-Fizzle*

The fat of the rabbit sizzled and dripped onto the small fire, sending tendrils of smoke curling into the air. Kyroin sat cross-legged, his expression calm and unbothered, as he patiently waited for the meat to cook thoroughly.

A few meters away, Changli sat comfortably, now munching on the lunch Kyroin had refused. Her eyes sparkled with playful mischief as she spoke with exaggerated delight.

"Ah, how delicious~" she exclaimed, savouring each bite far more theatrically than necessary.

She took another mouthful, savouring it audibly before adding, "Such a pity that a fool doesn't want it." Her voice was laced with mockery, her words deliberate and cutting.

Kyroin didn't react. His gaze remained fixed on the roasting rabbit, his demeanour as steady as a still pond. Despite her antics, he seemed immune to her provocations.

"Come on, there's still more!" Changli continued, her tone teasing. "You're missing out on such amazing food!" She spewed words between bites, clearly enjoying the performance.

Though Kyroin remained outwardly unaffected, a faint flicker of thought crossed his mind: "It was a pity that he had to momentarily give up on eating his mother's meal." Still, he pushed the thought aside, letting it drift into the recesses of his mind.

Instead, he focused on the present, sitting cross-legged as if meditating, the firelight casting flickering shadows across his composed face.

The faint savoury aroma of Xia's cooking lingered in the air, but his patience remained unshaken, quiet defiance against Changli's attempts to rattle him.

"Tch, so stubborn," Changli muttered under her breath, frustration creeping into her voice. No matter how much she prodded or teased, Kyroin remained as obstinate as a donkey. He hunted, skinned, and now cooked his meal, refusing to yield to her demands.

'Exactly how prideful is he to give up this delicious food?' she wondered, taking another deliberate bite from the lunch he had rejected.

She replayed his earlier words in her mind: "You don't know me well enough to give me nicknames, nor are we related for me to call you 'elder sister.'" The cold detachment in his tone had made his disinterest abundantly clear.

Even when Changli had attempted to use her powers to make him reconsider, Kyroin had effortlessly countered her.

With an almost dismissive ease, he extinguished her flames before they could even fully ignite, as though cancelling her Forte's activation outright. It had left her flustered, her attempts at dominance rendered futile.

While Changli mulled over her frustration, Kyroin's eyes opened. With a simple wave of his hand, he extinguished the fire beneath his meal. Calmly, he began to eat, unfazed by the lack of spices or salt.

Changli's gaze lingered on him, her curiosity piqued. 'He didn't even season it,' she thought, incredulous. 'It must be so bland.'

But as Kyroin continued eating without so much as a wince, she wondered if blandness was something he didn't mind—or something he preferred.

Her curiosity soon got the better of her. Rising to her feet, she approached him, her steps drawing his attention.

"What do you want?" Kyroin asked, his tone clipped and wary.

"May I have a piece?" she requested, her voice carrying an edge of feigned innocence.

"No. I hunted it," Kyroin replied flatly.

"But I want one," Changli whined, a pout forming on her visage.

"You didn't help," he countered, his tone steady and cold.

"Can't you be a bit generous?" she huffed, crossing her arms as her frustration bubbled over.

Kyroin sighed deeply, the sound carrying the weight of someone who had long lost his patience. 'Why am I even arguing with a child?' he thought, shaking his head. With a reluctant gesture toward the rabbit, he said, "Be my guest."

Changli's face lit up as she tore off a piece. Blowing on it to cool it down, she took a bite—only to immediately spit it out. "Bland!" she exclaimed, her voice full of dismay.

Kyroin's forehead scrunched. "Stop wasting food," he said curtly, his voice carrying a note of finality that left no room for further complaints.

"I think I'm done. After all, a lady shouldn't be a glutton," Changli declared with an exaggerated air of refinement, wiping her hands as if she had dined delicately.

Kyroin, mid-bite, nearly choked on his food. He coughed harshly, managing to swallow before fixing her with a sharp look. "You ate two lunches, and you still don't call yourself a glutton?"

"Well," Changli began, turning on her heel with a smug grin, "a growing child must eat. How else would I grow up to be as beautiful as Mother Xia if I don't eat properly?" She whistled nonchalantly, shamelessly twisting her words to her convenience.

"You wish," Kyroin shot back, his tone dry and cutting. "You'd be lucky to even be called a woman at this rate. With your current temperament, they'd call you a feral cat instead."

Changli's head snapped around, her eyes narrowing. "What did you just say?" she hissed. "I am a very demure lady!" She flicked her hair dramatically as if that alone proved her claim.

Kyroin merely scoffed, a sound so dismissive it only added fuel to the fire. "Humph," he muttered, casting a glance over her as if snickering at her features.

Changli bristled under his gaze. "What? Don't think I'll be beautiful in the future?"

Kyroin didn't miss a beat. "I don't think so. With your eating habits, it wouldn't be surprising if you turned into a female version of Zhu Bajie—pig form, from Journey to the West. And here you are, dreaming of becoming a phoenix." His tone was calm, but the bite in his words was unmistakable.

Changli gritted her teeth, her hands curling into fists as her pride flared. "What about you, huh?" she shot back, her voice rising. "You're always picking fights. Who'd want to be with someone like you, who only knows how to fight?"

Kyroin's expression didn't waver. He raised a brow, his voice as cold as his demeanour. "Was that supposed to be an insult?" The indifference in his tone stung as if her attempt to rile him didn't even warrant his consideration.

"You..." Changli growled, her teeth clenched so tightly it was a wonder they didn't crack. She jabbed a finger toward Kyroin, her frustration boiling over as she hurled a barrage of insults with all the venom she could muster.

"You're like a pebble stuck in someone's shoe—annoying, pointless, and impossible to get rid of! You think you're all high and mighty, but honestly, you're just a cold, lifeless rock!"

Her voice rose as her temper flared. "You couldn't charm a rock if your life depended on it! You're as friendly as a thorn bush, and I bet even wild animals avoid you because they think you're cursed!" 

Changli's eyes blazed as she pointed at him again. "You've got the warmth of an iceberg, the personality of a brick wall, and the emotional range of a wet sock! Honestly, it's no wonder you're hunting like a wild animal—who'd willingly stay near someone so miserable?"

She huffed, crossing her arms with a triumphant glare. "You're the kind of person who'd argue with their reflection because even your mirror is probably tired of you!"

Kyroin, unfazed, raised a brow at her. His silence only seemed to infuriate her more as she added, "And don't think you're untouchable just because you're strong! Strength doesn't make up for having the charisma of mouldy bread and the social skills of a cranky hermit crab!"

Changli finally stopped to catch her breath, panting slightly from her tirade, her chest heaving with indignation. She half-expected Kyroin to lash out or at least defend himself, but instead, he gave her a completely apathetic face devoid of any emotion.

"Are you done?" he asked coolly, his tone like a bucket of ice water on her fiery temper.

"..." Changli paused, her words caught in her throat, as Kyroin's calm, unbothered demeanour seemed to cut through her like a cold wind. His gaze flicked to her, not with anger or irritation, but with a detached nonchalance that made her feel like her tirade hadn't even registered.

"That was good—the rabbit," Kyroin finally said, his tone completely even as he spat out a small bone and wiped his hands.

Without so much as a glance back at her, he stood, collecting his belongings and heading toward the dense forest once more.

Changli took a step, her mouth opening and closing as she tried to form a response, as her hands extended towards him: "Wait!—"

But before she could uttre the word, Kyroin was already several steps ahead, his focus shifting to the task of foraging herbs as though their argument had never happened.

"Argh, what's wrong with him?!" she growled under her breath, clutching the now-empty lunch box to her chest.

Her face burned with frustration, not just from his unshakable calm but from the way he had dismissed her outburst so easily.

She stomped off in the opposite direction, muttering furiously to herself. "Who does he think he is? Acting all superior, like nothing gets to him!" Her grip tightened on the lunch box as she imagined hurling it at his retreating figure.

But even as she fumed, there was an undeniable sense of defeat lingering in her chest. No matter how hard she tried, it felt like Kyroin was an impenetrable wall—one she couldn't climb, break, or even scratch.

Meanwhile, Kyroin let out a faint sigh, his demeanour calm as he continued harvesting herbs, and after Changli had left... Without looking, he said, "Aren't you going to come out?"

From behind a nearby tree, an elderly figure stepped into view. Xuanmiao's weathered face bore a wry smile as his husky voice echoed, "I'll be sure to give her an earful later." His tone carried a mix of exasperation and affection for his disciple.

Kyroin, unbothered, replied, "If that's what you think is best for her."

Xuanmiao chuckled, stroking his beard as he settled onto a nearby rock. "Hmm," he mused. "You seem remarkably calm. Why aren't you mad after all those insults?"

"Why should I be?" Kyroin said evenly, continuing to pack his belongings. "I don't concern myself with appearances or status. As long as it doesn't hurt my feelings, it's irrelevant."

Xuanmiao raised an eyebrow, his expression half-amused, half-incredulous. 'Do you even have feelings?' he thought but didn't voice aloud.

Instead, his mind wandered to Lady Xia. A curious thought crossed him, and he asked, "What if my disciple had insulted your mother? Would you have done anything then?"

Kyroin paused mid-motion, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Me? I wouldn't do anything," he said, his voice steady, though there was a faint, sharp edge to it.

He held up the small sickle in his hand, the blade gleaming under the sunlight. "But this... this sickle would have done something."

The air between them grew momentarily heavy, the dreadful promise in his words lingered. Xuanmiao gave a low chuckle, breaking the tension. "Well, I'm glad it didn't come to that."

Kyroin resumed his task, plucking herbs with practised efficiency. Without looking at the elder, he asked, "You didn't come here just to chat, did you?"

Xuanmiao's expression shifted, a sly grin creeping onto his face. "You're perceptive, boy. I've come to take you as my disciple."

"Not interested," Kyroin replied curtly, his tone making it clear there was no room for negotiation.

"Hmm," Xuanmiao's eyes narrowed slightly as he leaned forward. "Is that so? I wonder... is it simply unwillingness, or is there another reason?"

Kyroin didn't hesitate. "Because it would just give you people more reasons to overstay."

Xuanmiao feigned a hurt expression, clutching his chest dramatically. "Oh, such harsh words for a decrepit old man like me. I'm just rotting flesh that will soon disappear, after all. Would it kill you to be a little kinder?"

He straightened, his tone turning more serious. "You have time and vigour, boy. Wouldn't it be better if I taught you? My disciple, prideful though she may be, has a good heart. Why don't you two become friends?"

Kyroin finally turned to face the elder, his gaze cold and unyielding. "If this is your dying wish, elder, I'll humour you," he said flatly. "But I doubt this so-called friendship will hold any value."

Xuanmiao smiled faintly, though his eyes gleamed with interest. "We shall see, young one. We shall see. Afterall..." He took a moment as he added, "Friendships are like unsuspecting seeds—who knows when they had already been planted."

Kyroin, with his mind focused entirely on the task, did not even spare Xuanmiao a glance. "I'm not interested in sowing seeds that'll never sprout," he said coldly. His tone was measured, yet every word cut like a blade. "Besides, why should I waste my time forging unnecessary relations?"

Xuanmiao's lips curled into a faint grin, his hand stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Are you suggesting," he began, "that you're content with having only one bond—your current mother-and-son relationship—for the rest of your life?"

"Yes," Kyroin answered without hesitation, his voice as resolute as stone.

Xuanmiao's grin faded slightly, his thoughts turning heavy. 'This is bad,' he mused before speaking again. "You do realize she won't always be there for you, right?"

"I know," Kyroin replied curtly, his tone colder than before.

Xuanmiao's composure wavered as he pressed further, his voice tinged with unease. "You know that your mother is…"

"An illusion," Kyroin interjected, finishing his thought with unnerving calm.

Xuanmiao's eyes widened. "You knew?"

"I've always known," Kyroin said, his movements never faltering as he continued to pluck the herbs. "I lost her while being cradled in her arms. These very hands that gather herbs now are the same ones that buried her."

Xuanmiao hesitated, his throat tightening. "Then why?" he asked, his voice almost pleading. "Why live like this, knowing that the motherly embrace you experience now is nothing more than a hollow imitation?"

Kyroin paused for a brief moment, letting the silence weigh heavy between them before answering. "Because I would have ended my life long ago if not for the shadow she left behind."

Xuanmiao's breath caught in his chest. "Aren't you afraid of death?"

"Death is the reflection of truth," Kyroin said, his voice as chilling as a winter wind. "Why should I cower before it?"

Xuanmiao shivered, his composure faltering under the weight of Kyroin's words. 'Where so many seek immortality, here stands someone who doesn't even value life,' he thought, his gaze narrowing. 'Such a person... is dangerous.'

It wasn't Kyroin's immense power that unsettled him. It was the unyielding steel of his inner core, the detached and unwavering mentality that seemed impervious to fear or hope.

As Xuanmiao tried to reconcile the boy's cold detachment with his young age, Kyroin's mind drifted to a memory etched deep in his soul—the day he first encountered his constellation. Back then, he had made a solemn vow.

"Live for her sake," he had sworn.

But that vow had been shattered the night his mother was taken from him. Revenge had driven him to the brink of destruction, and when his vengeance was complete, he had been ready to follow her into death.

It was only through a twist of fate that DEVA appeared, her offer pulling him from the abyss and granting him this fragile, temporary reprieve.

For now, Kyroin lived, not out of hope or joy, but out of obligation—to a shadow, to a memory. And the world that crossed his path could only wonder whether that fragile tether would one day snap.

As the old man watched the young soul continue his meticulous work amidst the greenery, back in Hongzhen, Changli hurried through the courtyard, her expression tense.

The weight of her earlier words hung heavily in her mind, and she found herself standing before Xia's serene figure, who was seated on the shaded veranda stitching an intricate pattern onto a silk cloth.

"Lady Xia," Changli began, bowing deeply, her voice subdued but laced with urgency, "I want to apologize."

Xia's hands stilled as she glanced up, her warm gaze meeting the younger girl's troubled eyes. "Apologize? For what, my dear?"

Changli's hands fidgeted nervously at her sides as she confessed, "About what I said earlier about Kyorin… I might've called him some harsh things, and I—" She paused, struggling to find the right words. "I just… I don't understand him. Maybe I still don't, and that's why we ended up fighting." 

Xia's gentle smile grew even softer, her voice taking on a warm, motherly tone. "You don't need to be so hard on yourself," she said simply, gesturing for Changli to come closer and sit beside her. "I understand your frustration. Kyorin isn't exactly the easiest person to connect with."

Changli nodded slowly, a mix of relief and lingering shame on her face. "He doesn't seem to care about others, Lady Xia—"

"Mother," Xia gently corrected, a soft smile gracing her lips, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. Her tone remained firm yet kind.

Changli gulped, her cheeks flushing slightly. "Right, Mother Xia. He barely talks, and when he does, it's cold… distant. I don't know how to reach him."

Xia set her embroidery aside, folding her hands neatly in her lap as she spoke, her voice filled with a sense of pity. "Kyroin has always been like that. Since he was young, he's carried himself with a sense of purpose—his duties as a son, his responsibilities to those he deems important. But…"

She paused, a shadow flickering across her face. "He's never been one to let others in. He builds walls, not out of malice, but out of a reason even I am not sure."

Changli listened intently, her guilt growing. "Then what should I do? I don't want to keep fighting with him, but he doesn't seem to care about having friends."

Xia chuckled softly, her amusement like the gentle ringing of wind chimes. "Ah, my dear, Kyroin is stubborn, but so are you, aren't you?"

Changli blinked, unsure of how to respond.

"A woman cannot back down so easily," Xia said, her tone suddenly carrying a playful yet resolute edge. "If you wish to befriend Kyroin, you must be more stubborn than he is. Don't let his walls discourage you. Instead, chip away at them, bit by bit. Be patient, but don't waver."

"But what if he pushes me away again?" Changli asked hesitantly, her pride faltering for a moment.

The air in the veranda grew warm under the midday sun as Xia's soft, amused smile widened. "Then how about you push him back?" she said simply, her tone playful but her gaze gleaming with a sly, mischievous glint.

"As a mother, I have already failed to bring colour to my son's colourless world. But you…" She paused, letting her words sink in before adding, "You could be the one to bring it. You can be more bold, you know—you have my approval."

Changli froze, her face flushing a deep crimson. "L-Lady Xia—"

"Mother," Xia corrected gently, the amusement in her voice unwavering.

"You… You're speaking nonsense!" Changli sputtered, her composure slipping as she averted her gaze, flustered. Without waiting for a response, she spun on her heels and trotted away, her steps quicker than usual.

Xia's laughter followed her, light and hearty, echoing through the quiet courtyard. But as the mirth escaped her lips, her laugh turned into a harsh cough.

"Cough"

She quickly brought a hand to her mouth, and when she pulled it back, the sight of crimson blood starkly marred her pale skin.

Her smile wavered, but only briefly, as she turned her gaze toward the sky, her thoughts clouded with longing. 'I don't have much time left.'

She closed her eyes, leaning back against her chair, and let out a soft sigh. 'I will be leaving him in your care, my dear Changli.'

To be continued...

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A/N: I am feeling sick, so yeah. One chapter per day, if possible. Also, a major change will occur soon, but will not affect the main story, just affect some part of the history.