The Nine Heavens stretched boundless and immeasurable.
Legends spoke of three thousand Dao suspended above the sky, with countless currents of spirit energy flowing into the mortal world. Mortals, fragile and brief-lived, cultivated that essence to temper bone and nourish soul, seeking to defy heaven and extend life.
Among the myriad legacies, one scripture was shunned as forbidden.
It was called the Mystic Moon Heart Sutra.
This cultivation art demanded the body become a furnace, drawing in both yin and yang. If successful, the practitioner would unite the two poles and step onto a peerless path. If they failed, yin and yang would devour one another, tearing the body apart and scattering the soul. In all the ages past, almost none dared to attempt it.
Yet in every age, there are those who walk against the current.
She—was one such being.
Night draped itself across the world.
Atop a thousand-zhang cliff beyond the outer peaks of the Xuan Yuan Sect, wind howled against the rock face.
Upon the stone platform at the summit sat a lone figure.
Her form was tall, her black hair whipping in the wind. Under the pale wash of moonlight, her sharp brows and cold eyes gleamed like a sword unsheathed.
Her name—Ye Lan.
Ye Lan's body was unlike others.
From birth, yin and yang had warred within her veins. Without a method to harness them, she would one day burn alive from within.
So she chose the very art everyone else feared—the Mystic Moon Heart Sutra.
Above her, twin moons hung side by side, silver light spilling like a cold tide.
Ye Lan's breathing slowed. Her fingers formed a seal, sweat beading upon her brow.
Inside her body, two streams surged: one blazing like fire that sought to consume her flesh, the other freezing like frost that sought to shatter her bones. They crashed and tore through her meridians, leaving her chest burning with pain as if cut by unseen blades.
"…Mystic Moon—First Breath."
Her voice was low and cold, yet beneath it quivered a trace of agony suppressed to the utmost.
A thunderous boom shook the air.
Stone cracked beneath her seat, fissures spidering across the platform. Her knuckles blanched white as she clenched her hands, blood seeping between her fingers. Scarlet welled at the corner of her lips.
Any other cultivator would already have been ripped apart. But she endured, forcing the torment into silence.
Her eyes were like obsidian, swallowing the darkness.
Lonely, unyielding.
Suddenly—
The whistle of the wind was broken by the faintest footstep.
Ye Lan's eyes snapped open, twin glimmers of red and white flashing within. She rose to her feet, sword-light gathering at her fingertips. Her voice was frigid:
"—Who is there?"
A figure in white approached through the moonlight.
It was a woman, her steps unhurried, robes drifting like mist. Her hair stirred gently, and her eyes—silver as the moons themselves—shone with a calm, unearthly light. She stood before the cliff as though she had always belonged to the heavens.
Ye Lan's gaze sharpened, sword intent bristling.
"Those who spy upon my cultivation deserve only death."
But the woman merely regarded her in silence, then spoke, voice as quiet as falling snow:
"Your yin and yang are already collapsing. In half an incense's time, your meridians will shatter."
Ye Lan's heart trembled.
She had hidden her condition from all, yet this stranger had pierced it with a glance.
Her tone iced over. "It is none of your concern."
At that moment, the ice and fire within her body slammed together. Blood roared in her chest, nearly forcing her to spit it out.
The white-robed woman lifted her hand. Faint moonlight bloomed at her fingertips. Before it even touched Ye Lan's body, it seeped inward like cool spring water.
In an instant, the raging yin and yang stilled. Fire and frost no longer tore at one another, but held a fragile, tenuous balance.
Ye Lan's body jolted, her eyes snapping to the woman in shock.
"You… what are you?"
The woman's gaze was calm, her silver eyes unfathomable.
"Luo Mingyao. A remnant of the Moon God clan. My blood can quiet yin and yang."
Ye Lan's pupils constricted.
The Moon God clan? That line was said to have perished a thousand years ago—yet here one stood before her?
The wind howled, robes snapping in the night. The two women faced each other, separated by only a few steps.
Ye Lan's voice was sharp as steel.
"You saved me. What is your aim?"
Luo Mingyao looked at her, as if seeing straight through the layers of coldness to the solitude beneath.
"Because the power within you does not belong to this world."
Ye Lan's chest tightened.
For the first time, she felt as though another's eyes had truly seen her fate.
Silence stretched, broken only by the wind.
Then she laughed softly, the sound cold yet edged with something dangerous.
"…Interesting."
Beneath the twin moons, the first thread of destiny bound them together.