The introspection of the Twilight Reflection lingered in Li Wei's mind like a fading echo, the constellation of his trials a constant reminder of the Dao's lessons as his body continued its slow decline. Seated by the familiar stone altar, he turned the scroll's pages with gnarled fingers, its incantations now committed to memory after decades of recitation. The latest passage spoke of a challenge that mirrored his waning vitality: "The Fading Flame, where the cultivator kindles a final spark to sustain the soul's light against the encroaching darkness."
Li Wei saw this as a direct extension of his reflections, a test to maintain the flame of his spirit as his physical form dimmed. Gathering a modest bundle of twigs and dried leaves from the valley floor, he arranged them in a small pit before the altar. His movements were labored, each step sending sharp reminders through his joints, but he focused on the ritual's intent. Igniting the pile with a trembling hand, he watched the flames flicker weakly, much like the intermittent warmth in his dantian that he still clung to as his Golden Core.
He began a soft chant, visualizing the fire as an extension of his Nascent Soul, a fragile glow fighting to endure. The ritual required sustaining the flame through sheer will, and as hours slipped by, he poured his fading qi into it, imagining it burning away the remnants of regret—unresolved longings for his mother's voice or Mei Ling's presence. In a trance, the flames grew in his mind's eye, transforming into a starry blaze where his Nascent Soul held a flickering light against an encroaching void. A voice, resonant and gentle, whispered: "Can your flame outlast the night?"
Li Wei's heart labored, his breaths shallow, but he chanted on, his qi surging faintly. The vision shattered as his body gave way, slumping forward, the fire sputtering low. Azure Dragon stirred, pressing against him with a soft whine. The warmth in his dantian flickered, but steadied, as if the ritual had coaxed a final spark from his soul. He managed to scrawl in his notebook: "Fading Flame kindled. Soul sustains, light endures."
In the next video call with the Order of the Jade Dawn, Li Wei shared the ritual's essence, describing the starry blaze and the voice's query. Zhang Wei suggested herbal infusions to mimic the flame's warmth, while Liu Mei, her voice filled with concern, pressed for him to accept aid: "The flame may sustain the soul, but the body needs earthly care." Chen Xiu interpreted it as a sign of impending ascension, while Zhao Feng offered practical advice on conserving strength, their discussion a bittersweet echo of past debates. Li Wei concealed the depth of his exhaustion, not wanting to burden them.
As the sun climbed higher, Li Wei rested by the pool, the Starstone clutched in his hand, Azure Dragon's head on his lap. The scroll promised that the Fading Flame sustained the soul, but also hinted at the inevitable. The valley's energy enveloped him, his sect's voices still fresh in his mind, bolstering his quiet acceptance of what lay ahead.