Re-birth: The Beginning after the End-Chapter 199: CAMPING OUT

Li Hua observed as the other disciples retrieved their miniature pagodas from storage rings and pouches. Some of these tiny spiritual dwellings were clearly personalized—Mei Lin's was particularly ornate, adorned with delicate silver latticework and minuscule jade wind chimes. Each disciple channeled a thread of spiritual essence into their respective model, activating the spatial arrays etched along the miniature eaves and foundation stones.

The transformation was immediate and mesmerizing. The tiny structures expanded with controlled grace, growing from palm-sized replicas to full-sized elegant pavilions that stood at carefully measured distances from one another within the clearing. The process released a gentle hum of spiritual energy as innate arrays activated, shimmering walls solidifying from translucent to opaque, ornate roof tiles settling into place with soft musical chimes.

Mei Lin's pavilion unfurled with particular ostentation, flowering outward in three tiers of silver-trimmed elegance, spiritual mist briefly coalescing around its structure before settling into place. The jade wind chimes, now properly sized, tinkled softly in the still night air.

Li Hua reached for the two pavilions Mo Xing had insisted she keep earlier. Both were of simple design compared to some of the others, yet the craftsmanship was notably different—simpler in design but with a certain understated elegance. As she held them in her palm, considering which to activate, she became aware of Mo Xing's presence beside her, his golden eyes reflecting the ghostly light of the moss beneath their feet.

"The left one suits you better," he commented softly, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Li Hua raised an eyebrow but she channeled her essence into the left pagoda as suggested. The response was immediate and different from the others she had observed. Rather than the showy expansion of Mei Lin's dwelling or the straightforward functionality of the others, this pavilion seemed to grow organically—almost like a living thing unfurling itself with natural grace. Branches wove themselves into elegant support beams, leaves solidified into roof tiles that retained a subtle green translucence, and flower buds blossomed into lanterns that cast a warm light.

Impressive, Li Hua thought, admiring the elegant structure that had materialized from such a small object. This defied all her expectations from her previous life in the modern world, where "camping" meant tents and uncomfortable sleeping bags on hard ground. Her experience with assassination missions in her previous life had prepared her for something similarly rudimentary—sleeping on tree branches during stakeouts or in hastily constructed hideouts while awaiting targets.

Instead, the pavilion before her was a genuine luxury dwelling, complete with what appeared to be fully furnished rooms visible through the open entrance.

"Come, let's go see what's inside," Mo Xing suggested, already moving toward the doorway with casual confidence.

Li Hua glanced at him with narrowed eyes. "Why are you so sure you'll be joining me? I don't recall extending an invitation."

Mo Xing paused, turning to face her with that maddeningly knowing smile. "Aren't we beyond such formalities, Stormy?" Something in his golden eyes flashed with mischief.

"One might say many things," Li Hua countered, though there was less edge in her tone than she'd intended. She'd grown accustomed to his presumptuous manner over the past days, finding it increasingly difficult to maintain her usual walls of ice when faced with his persistent warmth.

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She sighed, resigned. "You may inspect the interior if you wish. Briefly." With that concession, she stepped through the entrance first, unwilling to follow in his wake as if this were his domain rather than hers.

Inside, the pavilion expanded just enough beyond its exterior dimensions to provide comfortable shelter—a practical application of spatial formation techniques. A modest central living area contained a simple low table with two cushions for seating. Two identical side rooms branched off from the main space—both sleeping chambers comparable in size to Li Hua's personal quarters back at the sect.

Each sleeping chamber featured a simple bed frame crafted from smooth wood, with surfaces covered in functional silk bedding in complementary shades of green. Everything was designed for practicality rather than luxury—exactly what cultivators would need during a mission, without excessive ornamentation or wasted space.

"I've seen better," Mo Xing commented as he settled onto one of the cushions. Without waiting for an invitation, he reached for the simple ceramic teapot positioned at the center of the table.

"The tea leaves here are quite decent," he remarked, examining the contents of a small jade container beside the pot. His hands moved with effortless precision, measuring leaves, heating water with a subtle application of spiritual fire that emerged from his fingertips.

Li Hua watched with narrowed eyes, torn between irritation at his presumption and resigned acceptance of what had somehow become a familiar routine. In the days since his unexpected appearance in her life, she'd grown accustomed to his ritual of tea preparation—the precise way he measured the leaves, the specific temperature to which he heated the water, the exact moments of steeping he counted with unconscious precision.

With a small sigh, Li Hua joined him at the table. From her storage ring, she retrieved several ancient texts from her library. She arranged them carefully beside her, the familiar routine of study providing a welcome anchor amid the strangeness of their current circumstances.

He pushed a cup of tea toward her. Li Hua looked up at him and thanked him before picking it up, the ceramic warm against her fingers. It was the perfect temperature, ready to drink—something Mo Xing had definitely adjusted after that first time he'd given her a piping hot cup of tea and she'd let it sit for a while before picking it up.

As the night deepened, Li Hua observed as Mo Xing had decided to move around the perimeter of the pavilion. His fingers traced complex patterns in the air, leaving trails of obsidian essence that solidified into translucent protective barriers. Each layer manifested with different properties—one to deflect physical intrusions, another to mask their spiritual signatures, and a third that seemed to bend light itself around the structure.

When the final array locked into place, a shadow gathered on Mo Xing's shoulder. It condensed from nothing, darkness pulling together into the familiar form of Mian Mian.

The obsidian bird materialized with exceptional clarity. Mian Mian's wings, darker than the void between stars, unfurled briefly before settling against her small form. Instead of typical avian features, her head bore an elegant crest that shimmered with ethereal energy, and a tail of translucent shadow-like plumes flowed behind her like living smoke.