Chapter Three: The Girl Who Remembered Heaven
The elders arrived in a storm of robes and spirit light.
Their lanterns cut through the fog, beams flickering across shattered stones and smoking earth. At the crater's center, they found Jiang Yunxian standing as if nothing unusual had happened—hair messy, grin lopsided, an unconscious calm wrapped around him like armor.
Beside him stood the silver-eyed girl, silent and radiant, her presence alone making the air hum.
The leading elder, a stern man with a beard sharp enough to slice spirit iron, pointed his staff down at Yunxian.
"Disciple Jiang!" he thundered. "Explain this blasphemy!"
Yunxian raised a hand politely. "Certainly, Elder. Though, I must warn you—I'm as confused as you are."
Murmurs rippled among the gathered disciples. Some whispered about divine energy, others about curses. One particularly nervous cultivator muttered, "It's him again… wherever he goes, calamity follows."
Rong Qi, the feather, floated behind Yunxian and whispered, "They're not wrong."
"Shh," Yunxian said under his breath. "You'll hurt my reputation."
"You don't have one."
"Exactly. Easier to rebuild from nothing."
The elder's voice cracked like thunder. "Do not jest! You stand before an anomaly that reeks of Heaven's power—and you smile?"
"Well," Yunxian said thoughtfully, "crying didn't seem useful."
The elder's jaw tightened. "You dare mock me?"
"Only myself," Yunxian said with a bow so graceful it almost looked sincere.
Before the elder could respond, the silver-eyed girl stepped forward. Every cultivator instinctively drew back; her aura pressed on the world like an ancient sea.
"Enough," she said softly.
Her voice wasn't loud, yet it carried a weight that stilled every sound.
The wind stopped. The lantern flames froze, unbending. Even the mountains seemed to hold their breath.
She looked around at them all with quiet disdain. "You raise your voices before a star's remnant? How far has Heaven fallen?"
A chill ran through the crowd.
The elder's staff trembled slightly. "W–who are you?"
The girl's gaze drifted toward the sky. "Once, they called me Xing Yue, the Keeper of the Eighth Constellation. But that name has been erased from the Celestial Record."
Her words hung in the air, half memory, half mourning.
"Xing Yue…" the elder repeated, paling. "You mean—the Fallen Star Goddess?"
Gasps rippled through the disciples.
"That's impossible! The Star Goddess was destroyed ten thousand years ago!"
"She vanished in the War of Shattered Heaven!"
"Then how—"
"Silence," she said again, and they obeyed without thinking.
Yunxian leaned toward Rong Qi. "She's got the whole 'mysterious amnesiac deity' thing down pretty well."
"Don't joke," Rong Qi hissed. "If she's truly Xing Yue, then Heaven will come for her—and for whoever broke her seal. Namely, you."
"Ah. So we're partners in crime now."
"I'm not your partner, I'm your evidence."
Meanwhile, Xing Yue turned toward Yunxian, her expression unreadable. "You… are not as the records describe."
"I get that a lot."
"In the old texts, you were the one who mocked the Heavenly Emperor to his face."
"Really? Did I win?"
"No one wins against Heaven."
Yunxian smiled faintly. "Maybe Heaven's never had the right opponent."
That made her hesitate—a flicker of something like recognition crossing her eyes. Then she turned away.
The elder found his voice again. "If she is truly what she claims, she must be brought before the Sect Master. This matter cannot—"
He didn't finish the sentence.
Because at that very moment, the sky tore open.
A single streak of lightning carved through the clouds—not downward, but sideways, like a blade slicing the fabric of reality.
The heavens screamed.
Every cultivator dropped to their knees, covering their heads as a golden sigil appeared in the storm: an Eye, vast and unblinking, burning with divine wrath.
"The Heavenly Will," someone whispered. "It's watching us!"
Rong Qi's light flared in panic. "Yunxian! That's Heaven's sanction! It's come to re-seal her—and erase whoever broke the seal!"
Yunxian looked up at the blazing Eye. "Erase? That seems rude."
"Run!"
"Run where? Heaven's kind of everywhere."
The Eye focused, divine pressure slamming down like a mountain. The earth cracked. Stones levitated and disintegrated. Cultivators coughed blood as their spiritual cores shuddered under the weight.
Yunxian barely flinched. He just sighed, raising a hand as if shading his eyes from the sun.
"Too bright," he muttered. "Can't a man enjoy one peaceful night?"
The jade pendant around his neck glowed, white-hot.
Wind surged upward, swirling around him like invisible armor. Threads of light rose from the ground—red, gold, silver—twisting together, spinning into a spiral that caught the divine lightning and threw it back toward the heavens.
The Eye blinked—once—then shattered like glass.
The sky went dark.
Silence.
When the wind died, Yunxian was still standing there, hair tousled, sleeve torn, eyes slightly unfocused as if wondering why everyone looked so shocked.
He turned to Xing Yue. "So… does this mean I'm forgiven for waking you?"
She just stared at him. Then, softly: "You really haven't changed at all."
Behind them, the elders began to kneel—not to him, but to her. Yet their eyes flickered with fear when they looked his way.
Because they all felt it—the thing that had answered him. Something beyond spiritual power. Beyond immortality itself.
Yunxian rubbed the back of his neck, looking at the cracked sky. "Well," he said finally, "that could've gone worse."
Rong Qi whispered, trembling, "Yunxian… do you realize what you just did?"
He smiled, turning toward the mountains as the first light of dawn crept over the horizon. "Not yet," he said. "But I have a feeling Heaven's about to explain."