That night, campfires burned in the middle of the square.
These were no longer flames meant for battle or for driving away spirit beasts, but the warm light of a reunion delayed for far too long. The red glow fell across faces that had grown accustomed to fleeing and hiding, and for the first time in many years, laughter returned to the old courtyard.
The elders sat around the largest fire, drinking the weak wine that remained in storage while telling stories of the years before the Fire Qilin Tribe declined. Some spoke of warrior groups that had once crossed the Western Wastes without needing to avoid any faction, while others remembered the seasons of ritual when the entire old homeland had remained brightly lit for days and nights. Not every story had survived intact, but no one interrupted another.
At one side of the square, several women began singing old songs again. Many verses had already been lost, and at times an elder had to remind them of a few lines before they could continue, yet that very incompleteness made the songs carry even more clearly the traces of long years spent in exile.
The children did not fully understand the meaning of the stories or the songs. They only knew that the adults were no longer frowning, the altar had lit up again, and the four fire pillars were still burning in the night. So they ran around the square with small sticks in their hands, drawing circles of light through the air.
One little boy squatted on the ground and busily scratched out the shape of a four-legged beast with a pair of large horns. The lines were so crooked that its body and legs nearly merged together, but everyone nearby still recognized it as the Fire Qilin Beast.
The child raised his head toward Hao Nhien and shouted with a wide grin.
“Clan Head! We have a Clan Head now!”
The laughter of the children quickly blended with the voices around the fire.
Hao Nhien sat not far away, firelight reflected in his eyes. As he watched the scene before him, the corner of his lips curved faintly.
Since entering this old homeland, this was the first time he truly felt that he was no longer merely an outsider who had happened to come into possession of the Fire Qilin Jade. He had stood upon the altar, completed the inheritance rite, and witnessed memories the tribe had preserved through generation after generation. From that moment onward, the people laughing beneath the firelight had also become a responsibility he could no longer simply put aside.
Precisely because of that, Hao Nhien understood even more clearly that tonight’s joy could not last for long.
Heavenly Eye was still out there.
Han Minh, Ly Vinh, and the entire group of cultivators who had followed them had disappeared, while the enormous basin left behind by Thunder Burst was almost impossible to conceal. Once Heavenly Eye began investigating, they would very likely trace the signs back toward Dragonmist Thorn Forest and from there continue searching in the direction of the old homeland.
Hao Nhien watched the children running around the fire for a long time.
This place was no longer suitable for them to remain.
As the night deepened, the singing around the square gradually faded. Most of the children had already fallen asleep in their parents’ arms, while the adults began dividing the work of putting away food and tending the fires.
Lanh Hoa walked over to Hao Nhien, the ancient sword still strapped across his back. He did not speak immediately, only tilted his head toward a smaller fire in one corner of the square.
Lieu Ban and Luu Tan were already waiting there.
Hao Nhien stood and followed Lanh Hoa over.
The four men sat in a circle around the low fire. The atmosphere here was completely different from the liveliness in the distance, because all of them understood that tonight’s discussion would decide the next path of the entire Fire Qilin Tribe.
Lieu Ban had changed into clean clothes. His white hair was still slightly disheveled by the wind of the Western Wastes, and both aged hands rested on a staff covered in old calluses. Although his meridians had long been ruined, he still sat with the straight-backed posture of a man who had wielded weapons for many years.
Lanh Hoa addressed him quietly.
“Uncle Lieu.”
Lieu Ban nodded.
Hao Nhien looked at the three men before him and said,
“The Fire Qilin Tribe is still too weak. We have just survived a life-and-death battle and awakened the altar again, but Heavenly Eye will certainly not let this end here. Han Minh, Ly Vinh, and the people who followed them have all lost contact, while the traces left by Thunder Burst are far too large. Once they begin investigating, Dragonmist Thorn Forest will very likely be among the first areas they search.”
The fire between them flickered softly.
Hao Nhien turned toward Luu Tan.
“Based on how Heavenly Eye used to operate, how much time do you think we have left?”
Luu Tan thought for quite a while before answering.
“If Han Minh’s team had a reporting deadline or a fixed return date, ten days should be enough for the people above them to realize something is wrong. If the group was allowed to operate more independently, it may take a few days longer, but I do not think we have more than half a month.”
He raised his head toward Hao Nhien.
“After that, they will definitely send people. It could be only an investigation team, or it could be more, depending on how seriously Heavenly Eye views Han Minh’s disappearance.”
Hao Nhien nodded.
“Then we cannot remain here.”
Lieu Ban’s hand tightened slightly around his staff, while his gaze instinctively drifted toward the stone houses sinking into darkness.
“Clan Head wants the entire tribe to leave the ancestral land?”
“Yes.”
Hao Nhien did not avoid the point.
“Lanh Hoa and Luu Tan will lead everyone away. The main route can no longer be used, so you will detour through the smaller oases and avoid the areas Heavenly Eye controls most frequently. The final destination is Tam Thành.”
Lieu Ban did not answer immediately.
Hao Nhien did not rush him.
The old man had lived almost his entire life here. The stone houses, the worn steps, every courtyard, perhaps even every handful of sand, could be tied to the name of someone who had died. Asking him to leave this old homeland was almost the same as asking him to close the final part of his own past with his own hands.
Only after a long while did Lieu Ban speak in a hoarse voice.
“I once thought I would die here, in front of the altar, and be buried beside those who had already fallen.”
He looked toward the square. A mother was carrying her sleeping child back toward a nearby house, walking as softly as she could to avoid waking the child.
Lieu Ban watched the two of them for a while before slowly exhaling.
“But the ancestral land will still be here, and one day we can return. The living are the true root. If we let the children die in Heavenly Eye’s hands just because we refuse to leave a few old houses, then even after I go below, I would not dare face the ancestors.”
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He turned back toward Hao Nhien.
“The Fire Qilin Tribe is leaving today not to abandon its home, but so that one day we can return.”
Hao Nhien reached out and clasped the old man’s hand.
“Once we reach safety, we will continue searching for the clansmen who are still scattered. As long as they are alive, we will find them. When we are strong enough, the Fire Qilin Tribe will return, not in hiding and not in flight, but openly, to reclaim what belongs to us.”
Lieu Ban closed his eyes. A single tear ran through the deep wrinkles of his face.
He nodded.
“This old man will follow the Clan Head’s decision.”
Hao Nhien turned toward Lanh Hoa.
“You will lead the route. Avoid battle unless it is necessary and give priority to the elderly, women, and children. It does not matter if the pace is a little slower, as long as everyone leaves this region safely.”
Lanh Hoa placed one hand on the hilt of the ancient sword.
“Understood.”
Hao Nhien then turned to Luu Tan.
“You will account for every clansman, as well as the food, water, medicine, and each person’s injuries. No one is to be left behind on the road.”
Luu Tan raised his head. The evasiveness that had once lingered in his eyes had faded considerably.
“I will count every person. When we reach Tam Thành, I will do everything I can to make sure no one is missing.”
Hao Nhien nodded and took an old leather map from his storage bag, spreading it across the ground. Its edges were worn, and water damage had blurred the ink in several places, but the major routes through the Western Wastes could still be seen clearly.
Lanh Hoa placed a stone on one corner of the map. Hao Nhien picked up a charred stick and pointed to a route curving toward the southeast.
“This path passes three small oases, then turns south and follows the base of the low mountain range before continuing toward Tam Thành. It will take longer, but it avoids most of the areas Heavenly Eye frequently travels through.”
Lanh Hoa studied it carefully before saying,
“One section passes close to a region with a high concentration of spirit beasts.”
“I know.”
Hao Nhien nodded.
“But compared with traveling through a route controlled by Heavenly Eye, the danger there is still easier to manage.”
Luu Tan examined the map for a while longer before speaking.
“I do not think the entire tribe should know the final destination from the beginning.”
Lieu Ban turned toward him.
Luu Tan lowered his head slightly beneath the old man’s gaze but continued.
“It is not because I distrust the people of the tribe. Some were once captured by Heavenly Eye, and others still have relatives in their hands. If anyone is followed or captured again during the journey, the entire route could be exposed at once.”
Hao Nhien asked,
“What do you suggest?”
Luu Tan picked up another stick and marked five points along the route.
“Divide the clansmen into five groups, but keep them close enough to support one another. The stronger people stay on the outside, while the elderly, women, children, and wounded remain in the middle. Each group only needs to know the next stopping point. Scouts should move ahead, and people in the rear should erase our traces. During the day, we should avoid open terrain and rest mainly in ravines or caves, while most movement should take place in the early morning and late afternoon.”
He paused before speaking more quietly.
“Heavenly Eye once used a similar method to move supplies and prisoners through the Western Wastes. I followed those groups several times.”
Luu Tan’s hand tightened around the charred stick.
“Many members of the Fire Qilin Tribe were taken away along roads like these.”
He said nothing more.
Hao Nhien watched him for a moment before speaking calmly.
“What you did cannot be erased, and the dead will not return simply because you regret it. So do not waste your time repeating apologies.”
Luu Tan lowered his head.
Hao Nhien continued,
“Stay alive and use what you know to bring the living to safety. Save whoever can still be saved. If you can bring the entire tribe safely to Tam Thành, that is what you should be doing now.”
Luu Tan remained silent for a long time before bowing deeply.
“This subordinate understands.”
Lanh Hoa studied the marks on the map.
“The grouping method can work, but the distance between groups cannot be too great. If spirit beasts appear or someone launches an ambush, I need to be close enough to return and support them.”
Luu Tan nodded.
“I will recalculate the distance and departure times for each group.”
Hao Nhien put down the stick.
“Then we will use this plan. Preparations begin tomorrow, and within two days the tribe must leave the ancestral land.”
Lieu Ban showed a trace of surprise.
“Two days?”
“The longer we remain, the greater the danger.”
Hao Nhien answered.
“Bring only what is truly necessary: water, food, medicine, and weapons. Keepsakes can be taken as long as they do not slow the journey.”
Lieu Ban looked toward the altar.
“What about the ancestral tablets?”
Hao Nhien looked in the same direction. The ancient patterns across the altar still emitted a faint red glow beneath the night sky.
“Bring the tablets. Anything that cannot be carried should be buried beneath the altar. When we return one day, we will retrieve it.”
Lieu Ban nodded.
Hao Nhien moved the stick to another route on the map, one that cut almost directly eastward through the Western Wastes.
“As for me, I will take this path.”
Lanh Hoa immediately frowned.
“Clan Head is not coming with us?”
“No.”
Hao Nhien shook his head.
“I will head toward Tam Thành first. If I find Luu Thanh or people under Lieu Thien Van, I will have them prepare a group to come out and meet you. After that, I also need to return to Tam Thành in person.”
Luu Tan raised his head.
“You want Tam Thành to intervene in the matter of Heavenly Eye?”
“We are not strong enough on our own.”
Hao Nhien looked down at the map.
“Heavenly Eye is not targeting only the Fire Qilin Tribe. What they are doing in the Western Wastes may be far larger than what we have already seen. I need to meet Lieu Thien Van, find out how much strength Tam Thành can mobilize, and perhaps even reach the people standing behind him.”
Lanh Hoa looked at the route Hao Nhien had chosen.
“This road passes through long stretches without oases, and there are several areas where spirit beasts are frequently active. Traveling alone will be dangerous.”
“But it is the fastest.”
Hao Nhien answered calmly.
“In the past, I had to make detours because my cultivation was too weak. I had to avoid sandstorms, and when my spiritual power was depleted too heavily, I had no choice but to stop and recover. Now that I have reached mid-stage Foundation Establishment, both my speed and endurance are different. I can travel more directly and reduce the amount of time spent resting. If nothing major happens, I should be able to approach the region near Tam Thành in about two weeks.”
Lanh Hoa still did not look entirely reassured.
“You are still injured.”
Hao Nhien looked at his right arm. The Fire spiritual qi from the altar had already healed most of the cracks left behind by Berserk, but deep within the muscles there was still a faint sense of tightness and pain.
“I still have a few means to preserve my life, so you do not need to worry too much.”
Lanh Hoa remained silent for a while before finally speaking.
“You are the Clan Head. Members of the Fire Qilin Tribe may die on the road, and I may die as well, but you can no longer gamble with your life so casually as before.”
His voice was direct, but there was no disrespect in it. It was simply the seriousness of someone who had truly placed the future of the tribe upon Hao Nhien’s shoulders.
Hao Nhien looked at him for several breaths before nodding.
“I know.”
Lanh Hoa bowed.
“Then this subordinate will obey.”
Luu Tan bowed as well.
“This subordinate obeys.”
Lieu Ban rose with the help of his staff.
“This old man will inform everyone. We begin packing tomorrow morning.”
He turned to look at the stone houses in the darkness, his gaze lingering for a long time before he finally left with Luu Tan.
Lanh Hoa remained seated.
The low fire between the two men occasionally gave a faint crackle.
After a while, he asked,
“Clan Head, what did you see on the altar?”
Hao Nhien fell silent.
He remembered the man standing before the cave entrance in the sandstorm, the woman carrying a child through a sea of flames, the warrior with a broken leg still pushing his companion away from the claws of a spirit beast, and the elders sitting around a small fire, repeating the names of the dead.
After some time, he said,
“I saw the reason the Fire Qilin Tribe still exists today.”
Lanh Hoa turned toward him.
Hao Nhien placed another piece of wood into the fire and watched the flames rise before speaking slowly.
“It was not because of a jade or any single Clan Head. It was because, after all these years, there were still people who refused to abandon those behind them. As long as that remains, the Fire Qilin Tribe has not truly disappeared.”
Lanh Hoa was silent for a moment before nodding.
“That is enough.”
He stood.
“This subordinate will go make preparations.”
“Mm.”
Lanh Hoa disappeared into the darkness, leaving Hao Nhien alone beside the fire.
The singing from the square had almost completely faded by now. Most people had returned to their homes, leaving only a few elders sitting beside the largest campfire, warming themselves while speaking in low voices.
Hao Nhien looked toward the altar. From where he sat, he could still see the faint red light moving through its ancient patterns.
Tomorrow, the people of the tribe would begin packing. Two days later, most of the houses would no longer have smoke rising from their kitchens, and the square would no longer echo with the sound of children running through it. The altar, only recently awakened, would once again stand in an almost empty old homeland.
But this departure was not the same as before.
The Fire Qilin Tribe had not been scattered in defeat and forced to flee in despair. This time they were leaving by choice in order to preserve the living, protect the children, and keep alive those who could rebuild the tribe in the future.
A night wind swept across the square, carrying several sparks into the air.
One ember fell into Hao Nhien’s palm, glowing for a single breath before fading, leaving only a thin trace of ash behind.
He looked at it for a moment, then slowly closed his hand.
“We will return.”
His voice was so low that no one nearby could hear it, but Hao Nhien did not need anyone else to hear.
In the distance, the three mountain ranges surrounding the old homeland rested beneath the dark sky. The campfire in the square continued to burn, casting red light across the old rooftops and the four stone pillars around the altar.
It was the first night of reunion the Fire Qilin Tribe had known in many years, and also the final night they would sleep upon their ancestral land before beginning another period of wandering. The difference was that this time, they were not leaving in despair.
This time, they knew where they were going, knew who would lead them, and most importantly, they carried with them a promise that one day, the Fire Qilin Tribe would return.