The morning light over Luohai City was soft but strange. The air shimmered faintly, as though the heavens themselves were holding their breath. Lady Cangyin stood on the slope above the market hills, a faint breeze lifting her long sleeves. With a flicker of her hand, the shimmering white robes of the Lotus Star Palace melted away, replaced by the simple blue gauze of a mortal maiden — clean enough to leave a gentle impression, humble enough not to raise suspicion.
She descended quietly to the city's well near the crowded market square. The murmur of merchants, the chatter of hawkers, and the rhythmic pounding of rice echoed around her. She sat by the well's edge, her reflection rippling faintly in the water.
Her mother was never a cultivator.
So why did this land — this Continent of Yanli — still whisper her mother's name?
How was Old Man Feng, the servant her father once brought in, still alive after centuries? She could still remember his wrinkled face when she was a child. He should have been dust. Everyone from that time should have been dust.
But Yanli was different. The air here held too many secrets, too much old Qi that refused to die. As she watched the mortals passing — men haggling over silk, women laughing over baskets of lotus seeds — her mind pulled her into the past.
She remembered her death — the illness, the silence, her mother's body beside her. The burning light that took her to the celestial realm. The way she had risen as Lady Cangyin, Saintess of the Lotus Star Palace, sworn never again to feel mortal grief.
And yet, here she was, her mortal heart stirring once more.
"Mother," she whispered to the well's reflection, voice barely audible. "Where are you? You were supposed to be gone."
But her reflection only trembled — silent, knowing.
Then another thought struck her like lightning.
A half brother?
She had none when her mother lived. But the records in Heaven's archives were clear: her father remarried soon after their deaths. His new wife died in childbirth, leaving behind a boy — Tu Shun.
The name alone unsettled her. It was the same man whose gaze she had felt earlier in the city — sharp, uncertain, almost familiar.
Her heart twisted. "Could that man truly be…" she muttered, staring up at the red-tinged heavens.
"Are you aware of this, Emperor?" Her voice lifted slightly, tinged with both reverence and quiet challenge. "How much more do you plan to hide?"
A sigh escaped her lips. The wind caught her sleeves, carrying them like pale petals over the hillside. The blood-red skies of Yanli stretched endlessly, painting the horizon with a beauty both divine and demonic.
---
At the Palace of Eternal Radiance, the air hummed with faint celestial rhythm. Marble floors reflected the soft glow of spirit lamps, while golden runes floated in the distance like frozen lightning.
Seated at the heart of the grand hall, Emperor Tianlan Zhao raised a jade cup to his lips. His gaze was distant — not weary, but heavy, as though he had seen far too much of mortal and divine worlds alike.
Before him knelt Elder Ji, leader of the Tower of Thousand Incantations. His robe gleamed with the faint light of ancient sigils, every line denoting wisdom and age.
"Your Majesty," Elder Ji began, his tone clipped and respectful, "why have you called me back from the lower realms? I trust the other younger ones are still fulfilling their tasks."
Tianlan Zhao set his cup down, the faint chime echoing across the hall. "They must learn, Ji. They must see. If they cannot discern the hearts of mortals — if they cannot balance justice and mercy — then they are not worthy of being among the celestials."
Elder Ji's eyes softened, his silver beard trembling faintly. "As always, Your Majesty speaks true. The young ones must face what lies beneath heaven's order. The laws of men, of beasts, of gods — they are all reflections of their own hearts."
Tianlan Zhao looked upward, toward the mural above the throne — the heavens painted as an endless wheel, spinning endlessly. "Fate governs all things," he murmured. "Even I am bound by it."
---
(Back to the present.)
Far away, deep within Yujing Cave, the silence shattered like glass. A ripple of energy coursed through the air, disrupting the equilibrium that Xing Yue had painstakingly maintained. The floating scrolls trembled, one snapping shut and rolling into its box with a metallic click.
Her concentration broken, Xing Yue sighed — a long, irritated breath. She turned toward the cave's entrance, already guessing who the intruder was.
And indeed, the first thing she saw was Rong Qi — the shimmering feather fluttering helplessly near the mouth of the cave, its golden aura dimmed with embarrassment.
Before she could question him, another voice rang out — smooth, shamelessly cheerful.
"Well, well," said Jiang Yunxian, leaning against the stone arch, his usual grin plastered across his face. "Fancy seeing you here, Miss Xing Yue."
Xing Yue's patience was already thin. "What are you doing here?" she demanded, folding her arms. "And how did you find me?"
Yunxian grinned wider. "Second question first. I learned a little spell — 'The Thread of Knowing'. As long as I have your name and remember your face, I can locate you anywhere in the three realms. See? Useful, right?"
She gave him a look colder than moonlight. "And the first?"
"The first…" He hesitated, scratching the back of his head. "We need a favor. Well—he does." He gestured toward Rong Qi.
Her gaze darted to the poor feather. "Why in the heavens would a feather need my help?"
Yunxian coughed lightly. "Because you're you. You're in a sacred cave full of celestial energy, and I figured… maybe you'd know a beast or two who could help him out with this outrageous favor."
Xing Yue sighed. "We have beasts, yes, but they have their own laws. Why do you need one?"
Yunxian spread his hands helplessly. "So… here's what happened."
What followed was an absurd recounting — a tale of stolen scrolls, near immolation, and Rong Qi's illiteracy. The more he talked, the more Xing Yue's eyebrow twitched.
When he finally finished, she simply stared at him. "So you're telling me," she said slowly, "that after nearly getting roasted alive, and after all that trouble, your feather friend can't even read his own language?"
Yunxian winced. "You understood it perfectly. So why say it again?"
"Because it's insane," she shot back. "You risked celestial punishment for a scroll he can't even read!"
Rong Qi, glowing faintly red, shrank into a pitiful curl of light.
"Aiya," Yunxian muttered. "Stop that. You're going to vanish at this rate. Come on, Xing Yue, help us. Just this once."
She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Does your sect leader even know you left and is living Cloudpeak?"
He looked away. "…They won't notice."
"That's not acceptable. You must inform them," she said sternly. "Otherwise, I'm not helping."
"Fine, fine," he relented with a sigh. "You don't have to threaten me. I'll tell them. Just keep your promise."
Xing Yue shook her head, defeated. She would have to return to her what she was doing later — for now, there was no avoiding this fool and his troublesome feather.
As she stepped out of the cave beside them, the golden glow of the Yujing formations lit their faces. She could already sense the journey ahead — long, unpredictable, and laced with threads of fate she didn't yet understand.
"We'll have a long road ahead," she murmured.
Yunxian smiled, walking backward with his hands behind his head. "We're ready, Miss. Don't worry about us."
She sighed again. The heavens were definitely testing her patience.
___
Jiang Yunxian stood at the foot of the Cloudpeak Sect's main staircase, staring up at the endless rows of mist-draped steps that coiled into the mountain clouds. From afar, the great Cloudpeak Hall appeared as though it floated above the mortal realm — a citadel of white marble and ancient pine, wreathed in perpetual light. The mountain winds howled faintly, carrying with them the scent of pine resin and distant thunder.
Behind him, Rong Qi flapped uneasily in his half-materialized feather form, glinting with silver light. "You sure you're not going to get scolded again?" the spirit asked, his tone sharp with worry.
Jiang Yunxian smirked, his robe fluttering as the wind tugged at his sleeves. "Scolded? That depends on whether I speak before or after he starts shouting."
The feather twitched in disbelief. "That's not comforting."
He began his ascent, each step echoing softly across the mountain's tranquil silence. Along the path, disciples bowed in greeting — some in respect, others in wariness. The young drunkard of Cloudpeak was notorious: alcoholic beyond measure, reckless beyond repair, and charming enough to talk himself out of every punishment he earned.
When he reached the peak, the great doors of the Sect Hall groaned open by invisible force. A cascade of golden light spilled out, illuminating the carved pillars shaped like coiling dragons.
The Sect Leader, Master Wu Shang, sat cross-legged on a dais of white jade, surrounded by the faint hum of spirit energy. His eyes opened slowly, revealing an ancient calm that could still mountains.
"Yunxian," he said, his tone neither warm nor cold. "You have been absent from morning meditation for three days."
Jiang Yunxian clasped his hands together and bowed deeply. "This disciple apologizes, Master. I had… a sudden calling."
Wu Shang raised an eyebrow. "A calling?"
Jiang Yunxian straightened, a mischievous smile ghosting across his face. "Yes. A knowledgeable one. It appears someone down below requires my assistance."
"Down below," the sect leader repeated slowly, the corners of his mouth tightening. "You mean your partner in crime?"
Yunxian nodded as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "i need to take him to faraway place to cultivate. There's disturbance in his soul— and one of us companions seeks a particular kind of beast-script. I thought it would be wise to—"
"To leave your cultivation that's already poor to play knowledge?" Wu Shang's voice, though calm, carried the weight of an ancient mountain.
The hall fell silent. Even the incense smoke trembled.
Rong Qi, hiding as a faint wisp of light at the door, dared not breathe.
Jiang Yunxian exhaled softly, his tone growing quieter — gentler. "Master, I would not go if it were not necessary. Rong Qi's condition… it's worsening. The seal within him can only be stabilized if we find the original beastmaster to teach him how to cultivate. And the Star god is going with us."
Wu Shang closed his eyes for a long time, the silence stretching. Finally, he spoke: "That is not what your duties are.. If you must go, you will not go alone."
He rose from the dais, and with a single gesture, a talisman of white fire appeared, circling above his palm. "This seal will conceal your spirit aura. You will travel as a normal being. Should you feel angered, never do anything that can bring ruins to this sect."
Jiang Yunxian stepped forward and knelt, accepting the talisman reverently. "This disciple understands."
"And one more thing." Wu Shang's tone lowered. "Make sure that that thing learns to cultivate so he can help you with things your lazy self rejects. There's a lot of works that would need a third hand."
For the first time that day, the playfulness Yunxian smiled that smug I got you look . "Understood."
As he turned to leave, the hall's light dimmed behind him. Outside, clouds gathered — dark and heavy, like ink staining silk. The wind howled through the pine trees as he descended, the talisman glowing faintly at his chest.
Rong Qi fluttered beside him, his feathers brushing the air with unease. "He let you go?"
Yunxian smiled faintly. "Not exactly. He warned me. Which means he expects me to return."
"Do you plan to?"
Yunxian didn't answer. He turned his gaze to the end of the far end,at the gate Xing Yue stood arms crossed waiting.
She didn't notice them. She was too deep in thought that she just didn't notice.
He only whispered, half to himself, half to fate: "Let's go find you a master. And find myself more wine.