That night, the scent of steamed dumplings and stir-fried vegetables filled the air. Lin Hao sat at the small wooden table, feet swinging just above the floor, muscles still aching from the bath but warmth blooming in his chest.
His mother moved around the kitchen with practiced ease, while his father sat across from him, already halfway through his second bowl of rice.
Baby Mei—his one-year-old sister—lay asleep in a cradle nearby, tiny fingers curled into fists as she breathed softly.
They ate in silence at first, the day still heavy on all of them. Eventually, his mother glanced at his father and broke the quiet.
"What… do we do with the money?"
His father looked down at his bowl. "That's the question, isn't it?"
"It's not just a little extra coin," she continued, her voice low. "It's enough to change everything. Enough to… disappear, if we had to."
"I don't want to disappear," his father said. "I want something better. Safer."
Lin Hao chewed slowly, then swallowed.
"There's a place," he said suddenly. "I read about it in a magazine at the museum. It's called Villa Dragon."
Both parents turned toward him.
"It's really pretty," he said, smiling softly. "Lots of flowers. Big houses. But the best thing is the guards. Cultivators live there, so it's super safe. Master Yuan lives there too. If we lived nearby… it would be easier to visit him for training."
His father raised an eyebrow. "Villa Dragon, huh? Isn't that where those martial families live?"
His mother looked thoughtful. "I've heard of it. Houses start at five million silver coins… some as high as five hundred million."
Lin Hao nodded innocently. "We have fifty million. We could get something small."
But inside, his mind wasn't calm.
Villa Dragon wasn't just beautiful. It was strong.
In his past life, the night his mother and sister were killed, it was in their old apartment—no guards, no barriers, no cultivators nearby to help. If they had lived in Villa Dragon back then, even a low-ranking guard could have stopped that beast. They might still be alive.
Not this time.
This time, he would change everything.
His parents exchanged glances. His mother looked at Mei, then at Lin Hao.
"…Let's look into it."
His father nodded. "We'll visit the real estate office tomorrow."
Lin Hao smiled—genuine, soft.
"Good."
After dinner, his father sat near the window, rubbing his shoulder.
Lin Hao looked up from a corner, where he had been drying the cultivation manual.
"Dad?"
"Hmm?"
"You promised you'd train."
His father blinked. "That promise again?"
"You said, if we had money, we'd both become warriors."
He chuckled. "Did I say that?"
Lin Hao nodded seriously. "You did. But Master Yuan only gave me medicine for my training. So, we'll need to buy more herbs for you. Strong ones."
"Strong ones?" his father echoed with a raised brow.
"For tomorrow morning," Lin Hao added, without missing a beat.
His father stared at him for a long second, then sighed with exaggerated weight.
"Alright, alright. If I collapse after two stretches, I expect you to carry me back inside."
Lin Hao grinned. "Deal."