Xuan slipped into his room at the Wang house, the door clicking shut behind him with a soft finality that echoed the quiet Markham night.
The space was simple—guest bed neatly made, a small desk with his few possessions: a bamboo scroll of breathing exercises, his canvas backpack, and the faint scent of incense he'd burned earlier for meditation. He sat on the edge of the bed, loosening his tunic, the fabric whispering against his skin like a familiar breeze from Yunnan's peaks.
The dinner had been... enlightening. Noisy, warm, full of that secular energy the elders had warned him about—laughter bubbling like a mountain stream, food blending flavors in ways that defied tradition. But his mind wasn't on the pasta or the spring rolls. It was on the jade.
That pendant.
Earth-grade imperial jade, no doubt.
The kind his sect reserved for heirs, the chosen few who carried the weight of Canglong's legacy. He closed his eyes, replaying the feel of it in his palm—cool, resonant, humming with a qi signature he'd recognize anywhere. But how had it ended up here, in a suburban Canadian jewelry box, modified into a trinket for a girl?
The backstory of these jade pieces was woven into the sect's very foundation, tales told around flickering lanterns during long winter nights. Xuan let his thoughts drift back, as if reciting from the ancient chronicles he'd memorized as a child.
It began in the Ming Dynasty, during the reign of the Yongle Emperor, when Canglong Sect was at its zenith.
The sect wasn't just cultivators—they were guardians of the hidden paths, blending martial prowess with immortal arts to protect the empire's spiritual underbelly from demonic incursions and rival clans. The heirs, selected every generation through trials of fire and shadow, were entrusted with the Jade Hearts: pendants carved from the purest imperial jade mined from sacred veins in the Kunlun Mountains. These weren't mere ornaments. They were living artifacts, refined over centuries by master array-makers who infused them with formations that could store vast reservoirs of qi, knowledge seals, and even minor treasures.
Legend spoke of the First Jade Heart, forged during a great calamity. A demonic horde had breached the veil between realms, threatening to corrupt the dragon veins of the land. The sect's founder, Immortal Canglong, sacrificed his dantian to seal the rift, channeling his essence into a raw jade slab. The resulting pendant absorbed not just power but memories—echoes of battles, cultivation insights, even fragments of souls. Heirs who bonded with it could draw upon that legacy: summoning phantom barriers in combat, unlocking forbidden techniques mid-duel, or storing spirit herbs and elixirs in pocket dimensions etched into the jade's core.
Over time, more Jade Hearts were created—each heir adding their own layer. One famous tale involved Heir Lingfei during the Jiajing Emperor's era. Besieged by a coalition of shadow sects in the Forbidden City, Lingfei unleashed a stored heavenly tribulation from his jade, turning the night sky to thunder and routing the enemies. But the pendants came with risks: if an heir fell without passing it on, the jade could shatter, releasing uncontrolled qi that might level mountains or curse bloodlines. That's why they were bound by blood oaths—only a true successor could wield one without backlash.
In Xuan's lifetime, only three remained active. His own was tucked safely in his dantian, a small sliver he'd absorb fully upon returning. The sect master held the primary one, and the grand elder the third. But history whispered of a fourth—the Lost Heart.
Almost 500 years ago, during the late Ming turbulence, Heir Lian Yu vanished on a mission to the seas, pursuing a betrayer who'd stolen sect secrets. Lian Yu was a prodigy: tall, handsome, intellect sharp as a spirit sword, his cultivation on the cusp of core formation. The sect searched for decades, but he was presumed dead, the jade lost with him. Whispers persisted—he'd been betrayed, his dantian crippled, cast adrift. But no trace ever surfaced. The sect mourned, forging a new one, but the loss lingered like a shadow in the archives.
Xuan opened his eyes, pulse quickening.
*Could this be the Lost Heart?*
The qi signature matched—faint, dormant, but unmistakably Canglong.
Yet... altered.
The jade had been reshaped into a pendant, clasp deliberately broken, as if to prevent wearing. And that foreign energy—ancient, powerful, woven in like threads of fate. Not qi, exactly. Something European, perhaps? Ritualistic, laced with sorrow and protection. It pulsed gently, like a heartbeat from another era, mingling with the sect's essence in a way that shouldn't be possible.
*How? Who reforged it? And why here, with this girl?*
He lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling fan whirring lazily like a mortal imitation of wind arrays. Eagerness stirred in his dantian—a cultivator's hunger for truth.
He could explore it now, infuse qi to probe its depths, but no. Better to wait for the full moons, as he'd said. Build the energy gradually, unlock layers without risk. Once confirmed, he'd report to the masters—via the encrypted channels he'd set up, of course. No sense alarming them over speculation.
*If this is Lian Yu's jade... the sect would reclaim it. But what of the foreign bond? A puzzle within a puzzle. May be this trip, meeting with Wangs being neighbors with Valentis is to find something lost!*
His thoughts drifted to the evening's chaos.
Cat—curious, guarded, with eyes that held storms. Ethan's crush was obvious: the boy fidgeted like a novice during trials, stealing glances, jumping to join every plan involving her.
Xuan smiled faintly. *Amusing. Secular attachments—distracting, yet... endearing.* He'd support them.
Ethan was a good friend, the first true one in this world. A little matchmaking couldn't hurt his tempering.
Sleep came swiftly, the jade's mystery a quiet hum in his dreams.
Across the street, Cat sprawled on her bed, the pendant dangling from her fingers like a forgotten toy.
She hadn't given it much thought when Grandpa slipped it to her last summer in London. "Keep it secret, tesoro," he'd whispered, eyes twinkling. "Old family thing from Genoa. Broken on purpose—tradition says don't fix, don't wear. For girls only, in memory of one lost. Your uncles would fight over it otherwise."
She'd nodded, tucked it away, more interested in the zoo trip planned the next day. The broken clasp killed any urge to try it on anyway.
But now? Xuan's weird intensity had piqued her curiosity.
She held it up to the lamp, turning it slowly. The jade gleamed deep green, veined with gold like hidden rivers. The lotus flowers curled elegantly into the lion—East meets West, or something poetic. And that script—tiny carvings she couldn't read, half-Chinese swirls, half-Italian flourishes?
*Weird. Like it's confused about its identity. Kinda like me.*
She had asked Grandpa for more details- like who is the 'one who was lost'?
Grandpa didn't know. All that info was lost in time. She lay back, closing her eyes, the pendant warm against her palm.
*Just feel it. Maybe there's a vibe, like Xuan said.*
Darkness shifted.
A cabin, rain pounding shutters. Candlelight flickering on stone walls.
A man on his knees—tall, black hair loose, jade eyes soft with reverence.
Loose pants clung to his legs from the damp. Before him, a woman—naked, skin glowing, belly slightly rounded with early pregnancy. She stood, one hand caressing his hair as he pressed lips to her stomach, devotion in every kiss.
"Our child," he murmured in accented Italian. "I will protect you both."
The woman laughed softly, hazel eye full of love. "Always, my Lian."
Cat jolted awake, heart racing.
The room spun for a second.
*What the—?*
She'd dozed off. The pendant felt hot now, almost alive. That face—the woman looked like... her. Older, but the same waves of hair, the freckles, the spark.
And the man? Handsome in a timeless way, but the intimacy...
*Ew, brain. Why dream that?*
Xuan's words echoed: "It holds memories."
She shivered, tucking the pendant back in the box. *Weird. Probably just tired. Or that pasta was too heavy.*
But worry lingered as she turned off the light. *What if he's right?*
Sleep came fitfully, the jade's warmth a distant echo in her dreams.