Chapter One: The Awakening Flame
(Chinese: 觉醒的火焰)
The storm had come without warning.
Lightning cracked across the sky of Linhai as Mei stood alone on the temple steps, her sword sheathed, her back straight, her spirit unshaken. The scent of rain mixed with blood—the remnants of a skirmish she had just ended. She wasn't like other girls in the village. She was a warrior, trained by the old masters and forged in silence and solitude.
But tonight felt different.
From the clouds above, something ancient stirred. The winds howled louder. The villagers scattered. Mei did not run.
And then he appeared.
A serpent of emerald scales and blazing golden eyes descended from the sky. His massive body coiled in the air like a living storm—Ying Long, the dragon of legends. They said he ruled the skies before the mountains were born. That he had no heart. That he couldn't love.
But as his gaze met Mei's, something flickered within him—something forbidden.
She didn't know it yet, but she was the spark that would awaken emotions he had buried for a thousand years.
He was drawn to her strength.
She was drawn to his silence.
The wind roared, and Mei's hair whipped around her face. She drew her sword instinctively, though she knew she couldn't harm him. Legends spoke of dragons as beings of both fury and wisdom. And yet, she felt no fear—only an inexplicable pull.
"You…" Ying Long's voice was a low rumble that shook the ground beneath her feet. "Who dares stand here unafraid?"
"I am Mei," she said, her voice steady. "A warrior of Linhai. And I do not fear the storm… nor you."
His golden eyes narrowed. For centuries, no mortal had spoken to him this way. Not with defiance, not with courage.
A spark of curiosity ignited within him, mingling with a long-forgotten warmth in his chest. A heart, he thought he had buried. A heart that no human could awaken.
Yet here she was.
And something ancient, fragile, and thrilling stirred within him.
The villagers whispered of dragons that devoured kingdoms, of immortals who could not feel love. Yet Mei knew that legends often hid the truth. She had trained for this moment—not to slay the beast, but to face it.
"I have come," Mei said, holding her sword with both hands, "because the darkness rising in our mountains threatens both men and spirits alike. Will you help us, Dragon?"
Ying Long tilted his massive head. "Help mortals?" His voice was thunder and velvet intertwined. "Why should I?"
"Because our fates are tied," Mei replied. "If the darkness consumes us, your kind will be next."
There was a pause, long enough for the storm to calm slightly, for the first stars to pierce the clouds. Ying Long felt an unfamiliar weight pressing against his chest. A choice, a bond, something humans called trust.
"Very well," he said finally, "but it will not be a simple alliance. If you wish to walk alongside me, mortal, you must swear the Pact of Fire. Blood, trust, and courage will bind us."
Mei's eyes gleamed with resolve. "I accept."
And as her words passed through the night, a fire unlike any other ignited—not just in the skies, but in their hearts.
Days passed, and Mei trained alongside the dragon in secret valleys hidden from mortal eyes. She discovered the depth of his strength, his pride, and the echoes of solitude that had long defined him. Ying Long, in turn, discovered her relentless courage, her unwavering will, and the fierce kindness she reserved only for those she trusted.
Neither could deny the pull growing between them. Yet neither spoke of it. Legends and propriety forbade it. And yet, every glance, every shared breath of fire, every clash of steel and claw, drew their hearts closer.
For the first time in a thousand years, Ying Long wondered if perhaps the heart he believed lost was merely asleep… waiting for a warrior like Mei to awaken it.