Mystic Eyes: My Eyes Steal the Laws of Cultivation Chapter 592: Hand in Hand

Gao Ziyue smiled even more, a smile that illuminated her entire face. She discreetly observed his face, noticing the small smile that had remained on his lips since they left the auction, the way his eyes were less cold, his posture slightly more relaxed.

It was... cute. Much cuter than she had expected.

Without really realizing what she was doing, she moved a little closer, the distance between them naturally decreasing. Then, she naturally took hold of his wrist, her fingers gently wrapping around the delicate bone with a soft firmness.

"Come." She said with a smile filled with pure confidence.

"We’re almost there. After you eat something, you’ll probably feel better."

Kyrian looked at her hand holding his wrist, feeling the warmth of her skin through the fabric of his sleeve. Normally, he hated physical contact. He had always preferred to maintain a certain distance from people, a protective barrier that no one seemed capable of crossing.

But, for some reason, Gao Ziyue’s touch did not bother him at all. On the contrary, it conveyed a strange sense of tranquility, a calm he could not explain.

So he simply nodded, his voice calm.

"Alright."

And he allowed her to lead him through the small illuminated streets of the Sky Caravan, while Djiva continued sleeping peacefully in the palm of her new owner, completely unaware that the night still had many special moments in store for the two of them.

...

The two continued walking side by side, their steps synchronized in a natural rhythm. At this hour, the activity in the streets had already diminished considerably. There were still people moving about, but they were mostly residents returning home or small groups enjoying the end of the night in discreet taverns scattered throughout the residential neighborhoods.

The architecture of this region was completely different from the central part of the Caravan. There were no luxurious palaces or towers covered in complex spiritual formations.

The buildings were low, made of dark wood and gray stone, with sloping roofs that resembled ancient structures from different regions.

Small balconies adorned with pots of spiritual flowers created patches of color against the dark facades. In some windows, small paper lamps cast a golden light onto the street, creating a warm atmosphere that made the neighborhood seem alive, even so late at night.

Kyrian observed everything in silence, his eyes moving over every detail with an attention that his intoxication made slower, but also more appreciative.

That place conveyed a feeling that was difficult to explain. It did not possess the splendor of the city center, there was no gleam of gold or luxury of jade. But it possessed something different, something deeper. It seemed... real.

Kyrian realized that, without noticing, he had slowed his pace simply to observe all of it.

Gao Ziyue noticed, her eyes following the direction of his gaze.

"Beautiful, isn’t it?"

He nodded, his voice filled with sincerity.

"Yes."

She smiled, a smile filled with pure satisfaction.

"I like it here too."

Her voice carried a gentle nostalgia, a longing for simpler times.

"When I was little, I always came to this side of the Caravan. Within the family, everything was training, cultivation, etiquette, politics, history, strategy. There was always someone telling me how I should act, what I should think, how I should behave."

She raised a finger as she walked, as if counting the points.

Then, she sighed, a sound carrying the weight of years of pressure.

"There was always someone telling me how I should act, what to think, what to say. Here, it was different. Here, no one knew who I was."

She discreetly looked at the illusion covering her own body, the layer of energy that made her invisible to the world.

"All I had to do was hide my appearance, and I could spend the entire day walking these streets, observing people, learning about the real lives of those beneath me."

Kyrian could imagine it perfectly. Back then, she had probably been nothing more than a girl trying to escape the enormous responsibilities she carried, a child who wanted to be normal, even if only for a few hours.

Suddenly, Gao Ziyue let out a light laugh, the sound surprising both of them.

"Actually, I think I was quite a troublesome child."

"Troublesome?"

"Very much so. The family elders have already lost count of how many times they had to search the entire city for me. It was like a game to me, the more they tried to find me, the more I wanted to hide."

Kyrian smiled discreetly. It was difficult to imagine that calm and elegant woman, who now walked beside him with such serenity, giving her family so much trouble.

Gao Ziyue noticed the small smile.

"You’re imagining something strange."

"A little."

She laughed again, a lighter, more relaxed laugh this time.

"You can laugh."

Then she pointed ahead, her gesture filled with anticipation.

"We’re almost there."

They continued walking for a few more minutes, the streets becoming even narrower, more intimate. There were practically no more famous cultivators or important visitors here. Only residents, ordinary people living their simple lives.

The sound of the auction crowd had completely disappeared. It was possible to hear only quiet conversations coming from the houses, the occasional clinking of utensils, the crackling of fires, and the soft chirping of some spirit insects hidden among small trees planted along the street.

Then, Gao Ziyue finally slowed her steps, her hand still holding his wrist.

She stopped in front of a small two-story building, its facade modest but full of personality.

She slowly released Kyrian’s wrist, her fingers pulling away with a reluctance she did not comment on.

"We’re here."

Kyrian raised his eyes, examining the establishment with growing curiosity. The building was much smaller than he had imagined, almost hidden among the neighboring structures.

The facade was built from old, dark-colored wood, weathered by time but extremely well maintained. The round windows had simple frames and allowed an extremely welcoming orange light to escape, spreading across the street like an invitation.

Above the door was an aged wooden sign, its letters somewhat worn by the years, but still legible.