After class ended, Huo Feng fluttered away like a butterfly toward her father Jin Hai's palace, searching for his magical flower — the Blossom of Emotions, the one he had tended to as though it were sacred.
You might wonder, ''why that flower?''
Because it was his wife who had planted it upon our land, nurturing it as though it were her very life. When his beloved was killed, the flower grieved — it withered and wept until it nearly died of sorrow. But Jin Hai, unwilling to lose another precious soul, saved it for the sake of both his daughter and his wife's memory. He carried it up to the Heavenly Realm, and there, he cared for it as if it were his second child.
Huo Feng searched the palace gardens for hours, scouring every hidden corner, yet found nothing. When she finally asked her grandfather, the Furnace Master, he told her that after Jin Hai's death, the Grand Master Wu Xin had taken the flower — though he had no idea what became of it afterward.
Her heart clenched at the thought of visiting him. She had sworn to avoid Wu Xin ever since ''the day of punishment''. The memory of his doubt, his cruelty, his injustice — it still burned. The very idea of stepping into his garden again was unbearable.
But fate has a way of mocking resolve.
She froze mid-step, eyes widening as a familiar scent brushed past her — a fragrance that peeled away the haze clouding her mind. When she looked around, realization struck: her feet had carried her, unbidden, straight into his garden.
Her pulse quickened.
''How could this happen?''
And yet… with every breath, she felt a strange calm seeping into her bones — an unwilling peace, a treacherous warmth. Her spirit quieted, her heart eased, and the bitterness that had haunted her seemed to fade.
Guided by instinct, she began to feel for her flower's presence.
Soon, her senses led her to a familiar vessel — a broken porcelain vase that once sat in his room.
Her brows furrowed.
''That vase…?''
She had seen it before, shattered and empty. But now, her flower thrived there, hidden all along.
In that instant, she realized the truth — even the eyes can lie; she was no angel after all.
She approached the vase, her fingertips brushing against it with tenderness. Closing her eyes, she whispered softly:
"I'm truly sorry for what I did to you… but I had no other choice."
A quiet pause — then a spark of joy lit her face.
"You've forgiven me, haven't you? Thank you… truly."
She smiled shyly at the blossom, her voice trembling with affection.
"And you, little one… you must forgive me too, for what I'm about to do. I have no choice."
With serene certainty, she plucked the flower — and just as its petals left the stem, another tiny bloom sprouted beside it, bright and full of life.
Joy burst within her chest. She cradled the new flower in her hands, promising aloud to care for it with all her heart.
But before she could take another step, a voice — warm, familiar, achingly close — called her name.
She turned sharply.
He was there.
Wu Xin stood behind her, frozen, breath stolen as his eyes drank her in.
''She's here… in my chambers… after all that happened. Has she forgiven me?''
The thought barely formed before he spoke, his tone softer than she'd ever heard:
"Little thief… how do you plan to care for a flower you've just plucked?"
Without hesitation, she replied with that disarming simplicity of hers:
"The same way the 'great thief' once did."
He blinked, confused.
"Do you mean… me? You think I stole it?"
A laugh — light, pure, rising straight from his chest, from his soul. It startled even him. And in that laughter, Huo Feng's entire world brightened.
Then he said, voice heavy with a bittersweet warmth:
"An old friend entrusted it to me. I only kept it safe — inside something I treasured most."
He brushed a hand gently over the vase, eyes shadowed with sorrow before softening into calm.
"So then, little thief… how will you defend yourself for this crime?"
Her chin lifted proudly.
"I only borrowed it, great thief. And look— it's blooming again! You've no reason to complain."
His composure cracked. He seized her wrist, voice rising:
"Why are you always so insolent with me? Why not speak to me as you do with Master Li or Suo?"
Her gaze met his, unflinching.
"And why are you always so angry whenever you see me? Why can't you treat me the way you treat your precious pet, Mei Ling? Or is pain the only thing you know how to give me?"
She yanked her hand free with effort and turned to leave. At the door, she paused, glancing back at him — eyes gleaming with defiance.
"Don't expect anything from me but the same. Or worse. You've earned it."
Anger, grief, and something unspoken twisted inside her chest as she ran — ran until her heart found refuge beneath the Tree of Life, her silent confessor.
She pressed a trembling palm to its trunk and whispered her burden:
"Every time I try to forget him, something strikes me — unseen, relentless.
It's as if forgiveness itself refuses to let go.
As if forgetting is forbidden."
Her voice quivered with pain.
"I wanted to forgive him. Truly.
To overlook what's past — and maybe even what's to come.
But only if he'd open his heart to me again…
if he'd trust me once more.
But that's impossible — not while she's around… that Mei Ling!"
She lowered her head, eyes glistening.
"I don't know what to do anymore.
When I draw near, his anger burns me.
When I keep away, the cold consumes me."
Her words drifted into silence. The Tree of Life — her faithful listener — began to fade, its leaves turning pale.
With resolve trembling in her voice, Huo Feng pleaded:
"I'm sorry for burdening you with my pain.
Please… stay strong, so I can draw strength from you.
You're all I have left."
At her plea, the tree shimmered — its leaves bursting once again into lush, vibrant green, swaying with renewed life as a gentle breeze of hope and love swept through.
Huo Feng smiled through tears.
"You see? You're better already! Oh, and I haven't told you yet — there's going to be a talent feast soon. I've decided to make my father's enchanted tea, and this lovely flower will help me brew it."
The tree rustled, its branches quivering playfully until several blossoms drifted down into her lap.
Huo Feng laughed.
"Jealous, are you? Fine, I'll accept your gift with joy.
I promise — with my tea and my dance,
I'll dazzle them all."
She looked up, eyes gleaming with hope.
"I really will… I'll make you proud."