The night was silent. Too silent.
It pressed down upon the Xuèyàn manor like a suffocating shroud, the stillness so complete that even the cicadas dared not sing. For two long days, the clan had lived beneath a storm cloud, knowing the Heavenly Dao Sect's hounds drew closer. Guards had doubled their patrols, eyes sharp against the darkness. Elders whispered in tense councils, their voices stripped of all pretense of calm. Even the servants, once cheerful and lively, now walked the courtyards with hushed steps, every glance betraying unease.
And Yuyan had sensed it all.
She might have been young, but even a child could feel the weight of fear clinging to every wall, every breath. Her body ached still from training, the first flicker of flame she had awakened leaving her exhausted each night. But her mind—her heart—knew something worse than soreness stalked them. She felt it in her father's tight jaw, in Fang Zhi's forced smiles, in her mother's lingering hugs before bed.
That night, despite her weariness, she struggled to sleep.
The quilt her mother had laid over her felt too heavy, the silence of the manor too sharp. She curled against it anyway, tucking her chin to her knees, whispering to herself as if the words were a charm:
"Discipline before strength… endurance before death…"
And for a time, she drifted into uneasy dreams.
Until the silence shattered.
A scream—high, raw, abruptly cut short—tore the night apart.
Yuyan's eyes flew open, her heart lurching into her throat. For a moment she froze, certain she had imagined it. But then came another cry, this one choked off by the harsh clash of steel. Then the roar of flame. Then bodies striking stone.
Her breath hitched. She slid from her bed, bare feet meeting the cold floor, trembling. She stumbled to the window, clutching the frame.
And the scene below burned itself into her soul forever.
The Xuèyàn courtyard was chaos incarnate. Flames guttered against blood, scarlet light flaring from the hands of Xuèyàn elders—only to be snuffed out by the ruthless discipline of the Azure Sky Sentinels. Their azure cloaks whipped through the air, their formation tight, their spears merciless. Guards fell one after another, crimson pooling across the white stones. Bodies collapsed in twisted heaps, their last flames sputtering into smoke.
"W-what…" Yuyan's tiny voice faltered. Her hands gripped the frame so tightly her nails dug into the wood.
She wanted to scream, but instinct forced her palms against her mouth. Tears blurred her vision as sobs threatened to escape, but she smothered them, curling against the wall beneath the window. Her body shook violently, every instinct crying out to hide, to vanish, to flee.
The door to her room slammed open.
Yuyan gasped, choking on her fear. She pressed herself against the wall, certain the enemy had come.
But then—
"Yuyan!"
Her mother.
Lady Ruan rushed in, robe hastily thrown over nightclothes, her long black hair loose and streaming behind her. Her face was pale, eyes wide with terror, but when they found her daughter safe, a flicker of relief broke through. She darted forward, seizing Yuyan into her arms, crushing her close. A necklace glimmered in her trembling hands—an amulet of crimson jade. She pressed it against her daughter's chest, fastening it hurriedly around her neck.
"Mother—!" Yuyan's sob cracked, muffled by her mother's robes.
"Not a sound." Lady Ruan's voice was fierce, sharper than Yuyan had ever heard. She pressed a finger to her daughter's lips, her whole body trembling. "Do you hear me? Not a sound. No matter what."
Yuyan nodded, choking back her cries, clinging to her mother's neck.
The manor shook with the thunder of boots, the clash of battle, the screams of the dying. Lady Ruan carried her swiftly through the corridors, her bare feet silent against polished stone.
Yuyan could not look away. Every corner they turned revealed another nightmare—the broken body of a servant sprawled across blood-slick tiles, a guard slumped against the wall with a spear through his chest, scarlet flames flickering weakly before being crushed under the weight of azure steel.
The world she had known—the warmth of meals in the hall, the soft laughter of servants, the lessons in the training yard—was being torn apart before her eyes.
They turned a corner—and nearly collided with Lin Jinhai.
Her father stood bloodied, his once-immaculate robes torn, crimson streaking his arms. But the blood was not his own. His chest rose and fell in harsh breaths, yet when his eyes fell upon Yuyan in her mother's arms, relief flickered through his hardened features.
"Yuyan," he rasped. "She's unharmed?"
"She's safe," Lady Ruan answered, tightening her hold.
Jinhai nodded once. His shoulders straightened, his voice low with command. "Good. Then we—"
The words caught. His gaze shifted forward.
And Yuyan followed it.
From the courtyard shadows ahead stepped Tian Lianxu, Captain of the Azure Sky Sentinels. His azure cloak was untouched by the carnage, his steel polished, his stride calm. His expression was a mask of cold detachment.
At his feet lay Fang Zhi.
Yuyan's breath stopped.
Fang Zhi, who had smiled at her every morning, who had guided her through exercises with patient words, who had always called her "young miss" with warmth hidden behind formality—he lay sprawled, eyes wide, staring emptily at the sky. His chest no longer rose. His body still bled, but his warmth was gone.
"No…" Yuyan's whisper cracked.
Her father's arm shot out, shielding her from the sight. His body tensed, standing before them, his flame flaring scarlet in defiance. His voice was a low growl, each word carved from stone.
"Run. I'll hold him."
Lady Ruan's breath caught. "No—you can't—"
"Run!" Jinhai roared, his flame blazing brighter. He did not look back, did not meet Yuyan's eyes, for fear his resolve would falter. His figure blurred as crimson flame coiled along his arms.
Lady Ruan choked back tears, dragging Yuyan away. Her daughter clung to her neck, screaming, but her voice was drowned beneath the clash of steel and fire as Jinhai met Tian Lianxu head-on.
The manor quaked with their clash. Flame struck steel, sparks devoured shadow, thunder echoed in each blow. Yuyan's sobs tore her throat raw as she looked back, only to be pulled forward, further, further, away from her father's burning silhouette.
They ran until the manor's screams dulled into silence, until the forest's shadows enclosed them. Lady Ruan staggered, breathless, and set Yuyan upon the cold ground.
"Stay close," she whispered, brushing trembling fingers through her daughter's hair. "We'll keep moving. Your father—"
Her words faltered.
The forest stirred.
From its depths, Tian Lianxu emerged. His stride was unhurried, his azure cloak flowing like water in the moonlight. And in his arms—
Lin Jinhai.
Blood streaked his face, his body limp, his chest unmoving.
"Father!" Yuyan screamed, darting forward.
But her mother seized her, holding her back. Her body shook violently, but she forced her daughter behind her, standing tall despite her fear.
Tian Lianxu laid Jinhai's body upon the earth with cold precision. Then his spear flashed.
The blade pierced Lady Ruan's chest.
"Mother!" Yuyan's scream split the night.
Blood burst across the ground. Lady Ruan staggered, coughing crimson, yet her eyes burned with defiance. She turned just enough to look at her daughter. Despite the pain wracking her body, she smiled faintly.
"Yuyan… no matter what… survive."
"Pathetic words," Tian Lianxu sneered. "The last embers always sputter before they die."
Lady Ruan's eyes hardened. "Run, my daughter!"
Her voice cracked like a whip.
Yuyan's legs moved before her mind could resist. Sobbing, she turned and fled into the night, her small form swallowed by trees.
Behind her, her mother's hands formed desperate seals. Blood dripped from her wound, staining the soil, feeding the flames. Scarlet light erupted, spiraling skyward in a pillar of fire.
The forbidden art of the Xuèyàn clan—Burning Blood Immolation.
Her life itself became the flame. Her body, her soul, her love for her daughter—fuel for a single, devastating blaze.
The ground quaked. Trees withered. The very air screamed with heat. Tian Lianxu snarled, thrusting his spear forward, but the inferno engulfed him whole. His roar vanished in the explosion as crimson fire devoured everything.
The forest lit up like day. For miles, the night burned red.
And then—silence.
Yuyan stumbled through the dark, her body shaking with every sob. The world she knew was gone. Her father, her mother, Fang Zhi, her clan—all gone.
She collapsed against a tree, clutching the crimson jade amulet at her neck, her tears soaking the earth.
"I… I'm the only one left…"
The words were fragile, breaking apart into sobs.
She curled into herself, remembering her mother's final smile, her father's last command, Fang Zhi's gentle pride. The night air bit her skin, but all she felt was the searing emptiness in her chest.
She was seven.
And she was alone.
⸻
Far away, in the radiant jade halls of the Heavenly Dao Sect, the bells tolled solemnly. Azure Sky Sentinels knelt upon polished marble, their armor scorched, their cloaks torn.
"The Xuèyàn clan has fallen," one intoned. "The flames are extinguished."
Another hesitated. "But… the child… we lost her trail in the forest."
Murmurs rippled through the chamber. Some frowned uneasily. Others scoffed, confident the girl could not survive.
Upon the high dais sat Sect Master Dao Shenxing, draped in flawless white and gold. His expression was serene, his hands folded in prayer. His voice carried like sacred wind.
"Then Heaven's will has been fulfilled. The cursed bloodline is no more."
The disciples bowed low. "Heaven's will be done!"
But as their voices echoed, Dao Shenxing's eyes sharpened. A smirk, faint as a blade's edge, touched his lips.
"A flame unguarded flickers… yet even a spark may grow," he murmured softly, unheard. "Let it run. Let it burn. The brighter it grows… the sweeter it shall be when I snuff it out with my own hand."
Outside, bells tolled again, rolling across the peaks.
And in the distant forest, alone and broken, Lin Xuèyàn Yuyan stumbled deeper into the night.
Her clan was ash. Her childhood was gone.
Only her mother's last command remained.
Survive.