It had been five hundred years since Long Xuanji had brought baby Mo Yuchen into the forest and created the protective dome barrier.
With the early morning rise of the sun, Mo Yuchen, who looked like a youth in his twenties, sat cross-legged in his study—a large room with towering shelves filled with scrolls from all four clans. He hovered quietly in mid-air, meditating atop an elegant talisman of his own creation formed from his cultivated qi.
It was talisman cultivation he had learned entirely on his own because none of the teachers could help him with it. But they had ensured the study was filled with enough scrolls to make even a Talisman Elder feel under-read.
Suddenly, a golden spark of communication energy shot into the room like a firefly on a mission. Mo Yuchen opened one eye, extended his hand, and caught the spark. It immediately transformed into a glowing scroll, rolled into the shape of a small cone—just like one of those old amplifiers Doubao claimed made shouting more dignified.
Teacher Xuanji's voice echoed out, calm and commanding.
"Come for training in the yard."
Mo Yuchen smiled faintly and waved the message away, dissolving it with a flick of his fingers. Then, still standing on his hovering talisman, he whooshed straight out of the room.
Within seconds, he arrived in the yard, descending smoothly as his talisman shrank into a wisp of energy and obediently returned to him like a well-trained hound.
He bowed respectfully to his three masters, who were seated under the morning sun, and then glanced sideways at the one person standing beside them—Feng Xiu Lan, with her arms folded and a sharp expression.
"Mo Yuchen, do we really have to remind you every morning about practice?" she said, eyebrows raised, clearly not amused. "How long have we been doing this?"
And just like that, his first mission of the day was accomplished: to annoy her before breakfast. Success!
The two disciples began their sword practice as the three masters watched quietly.
But the elders, of course, never just watched.
With a flick of Long Xuanji's fingers, the wind around Mo Yuchen began to stir. Soft at first, then spiraling tighter with each breath. Not to be outdone, Yan Lianyu added her own challenge, which was a flock of illusionary birds, diving toward him in swift, coordinated strikes.
Mo Yuchen spun his sword in smooth, continuous arcs, using it as both blade and barrier. He moved with a scholar's elegance and a hunter's precision.
Across the yard, Feng Xiu Lan was facing her own nightmare. Hu Doubao's Cloud Piercing Spear came whooshing at her like a vengeful bear. But she didn't flinch. Planting her feet, she pushed her vital qi into her sword and met the spear head-on.
Boom!
The force of the collision echoed through the dome, scattering petals and rattling leaves. But Feng Xiu Lan held her ground. She gritted her teeth, poured more qi into her blade, and pushed the spear back.
Hu Doubao laughed, eyes gleaming. "Not bad, Feng Xiu Lan. Not many can take on my Cloud Piercing Spear and stay standing."
Meanwhile, Mo Yuchen had sliced through the last of the birds and tamed the swirling winds into a soft breeze as if they'd only been playing.
"I know you only used ten percent of your strength to deal with those illusionary birds," Yan Lianyu said with a sharp look. "Any more, and the yard would be firewood."
"He's just scared we'll make him fix everything afterward," Feng Xiu Lan said dryly, smirking.
Long Xuanji stood and waved a hand. A bowl of black dye floated to him, and he gestured toward Mo Yuchen. "Come. It's time to cover your hair again."
Mo Yuchen walked over and sat on the low stool without protest. The elder dipped a brush and began working the thick dye through the blue streaks at the ends of his hair, carefully turning them into a uniform black.
"Remember, Mo Yuchen," Xuanji said, his voice calm but firm, "no one must ever see the original color of your hair."
It was a rule Mo Yuchen had followed since childhood. Why his hair mattered so much, none of them had ever explained. But something in him, coiled and half-awake, whispered that the truth wasn't far off.
"Are we going somewhere?" he asked, trying to sound casual.
"Yes," Xuanji replied. "You and Feng Xiu Lan will accompany me to Pingxiao Town tomorrow."
***
Beautiful birds flew overhead, and cute rabbits hopped about inside the dome. Magical, rare plants swayed gently in the breeze, releasing shiny, transparent air bubbles that floated lazily through the air, turning the dome into a magical retreat anyone would envy.
Mo Yuchen loaded the final sack of herbs into the cart, which was hitched to two sturdy horses. Meanwhile, Feng Xiu Lan excitedly stacked a small mountain of novels into the second carriage, tied to another pair of horses.
"I'll get new books today," she declared happily.
Just then, Mo Yuchen's horse gave a light prance. He calmly tugged on the reins and muttered, "Easy now. It's just a few hours in Pingxiao. Nothing much." He cast a sideward glance at Feng Xiu Lan.
"Why do you always have to dampen the mood?" she asked, stepping in front of him.
"What did I do?" Mo Yuchen replied, putting on his best innocent face.
"Why can't you think about the good food from the Chanzhi Xuan Restaurant?" she huffed. "It's a day outside the dome! We get to see new things and eat a dozen kinds of snacks!"
Mo Yuchen gave her a tight smile and nodded knowingly. "Right. You go sightseeing and snack-hunting while I sort out records with the herb merchant."
A light breeze swept past them, fluttering the carriage's curtain. Both Mo Yuchen and Feng Xiu Lan turned toward it and bowed politely.
"Teacher, we are ready to depart."
From inside the carriage, Elder Xuanji replied in his usual slow drawl, "Let's go."
"Yes, teacher," Feng Xiu Lan chirped, hopping into the seat across from him.
Then Teacher Xuanji reached into his sleeve and pulled out two small wooden figurines shaped like men. He cast a quick spell, and the figurines shot out of the carriage, growing rapidly into life-sized men who took hold of the reins on both the cart and the carriage.
Mo Yuchen mounted his saddled horse with practiced ease and led the way out of the dome.
***
Pingxiao was a small town on the edge of the Bird Clan's border, built mainly to support the surrounding farmers. At the entrance stood a giant sculpture of an eagle perched atop the enormous gates—a silent but stark warning to all who entered.
As Mo Yuchen approached the almost-empty gates, guarded by only two sentries, his eyes instinctively studied the eagle statue. Even in his early years, he had sensed the truth: that eagle was the core of a powerful energy formation, its pulse travelling for miles to guard the Bird Clan's borders. Though the gates were wide open, his trained gaze could clearly see the invisible magical barrier stretching across the entryway.
The guards knew them as herbalists who ventured into the nearby No-Man's Land to gather rare herbs. Their documents, forged with care, claimed they owned a small house in Pingxiao and were simply returning home with their goods.
One of the guards glanced at the papers Mo Yuchen handed over and smiled. "Shen Yi, looks like you've brought back quite the haul this time." Unknowingly, he happily used Mo Yuchen's fake name, giving the cart another look before rechecking the papers. "You've got your junior, Lin Qian, and Teacher Xuanji with you as well?"
Smiling politely, Mo Yuchen said, "Yes." They had always used false names when entering Pingxiao.
He nodded toward the carriage. Feng Xiu Lan, also known as Lin Qian, poked her head out and waved cheerily while Long Xuanji cleared his throat just loud enough for the guard to hear.
The guard immediately stood straighter, held up a metallic badge toward the eagle statue, and a thin beam of energy shot from the badge into the eagle's eyes. A moment later, the invisible barrier shimmered faintly—then silently lifted, granting them entry into Pingxiao.
***
The herbal shop was the largest and most well-equipped store in Pingxiao. The familiar scent of countless dried herbs filled the moderately busy shop, drifting through the air like an old melody.
Mo Yuchen stood at the counter as the owner, Lin Baoshan, a middle-aged man with a warm smile, greeted him. He looked genuinely pleased with the bundle of premium-quality rare herbs Mo Yuchen had just delivered.
Lin Baoshan cheerfully pulled out four small bags of silver and pushed them toward him. "Shen Yi, you've brought in the best rare herbs this time, so I have to pay you fairly, too," he said with a nod of approval.
"Thank you, Lin Xiānshēng," Mo Yuchen replied, offering a polite bow. He picked up the silver and left the shop without further word.
Once outside, he glanced around quickly. Seeing no one watching, he made a quiet circular motion with his fingers. The four silver bags instantly swirled into a single, compact pouch, which he tucked neatly into the front of his robe.
"Alright, Mo Yuchen, time to eat something delicious." Smiling to himself, he headed toward the restaurant where he knew Teacher Xuanji would be waiting.
***
Despite being a small farming town, Chanzhi Xuan Restaurant was always bustling with travelers, scholars, and the wealthier locals of Pingxiao. The aroma of sizzling spices filled the air, mingling with the soft clatter of dishes, lively conversations, and the swift, silent steps of servers weaving through the tables.
Mo Yuchen stepped into the restaurant and scanned the room.
"Shen Yi!" called Feng Xiu Lan, waving him over with a grin. "Come, we're here."
Mo Yuchen made his way to their table, where Feng Xiu Lan and Teacher Xuanji were already seated. It was a large round table by the window, half-covered with steaming plates. Dishes included crispy roasted duck, clay pots of braised pork belly, sweet lotus root glazed in honey, steamed dumplings shaped like peach blossoms, jasmine chicken, and warm sticky rice cakes with red bean and walnut filling—a feast fit for immortals.
A waiter placed down the final plate of pan-fried scallion rolls, gave a polite bow, and stepped away.
Without hesitation, Feng Xiu Lan picked up a piece of roasted duck and offered it to Teacher Xuanji. "Teacher, try this. It looks delicious."
Mo Yuchen, more quietly, ladled a small bowl of seaweed soup and placed it in front of his teacher. "This is for you, Teacher. It's your favorite."
Xuanji gave a pleased nod. "Mm," he murmured, already chewing. "Better than the last visit."
Feng Xiu Lan immediately dug into the food, smiling like she hadn't eaten in days. In their training, it was customary that students only began eating after their master took the first bite. Junior disciples were meant to eat after their seniors too—but Feng Xiu Lan never cared for that part. Rules like that, she treated more like vague suggestions.
"I've waited weeks for this," she announced dramatically, grabbing a rice cake like it was a treasure.
"You had the same thing last time," Mo Yuchen noted, sipping his soup.
"Yes, but this one has seasonal walnuts," she replied with an overly serious tone, biting into it as if tasting spiritual enlightenment.
As the three enjoyed their food, the nearby table grew louder with the chatter of scholars and martial artists.
"Did you hear?" one of them said. "The Academy's intake opens soon. They say this century's batch might be the most competitive yet."
"I can't go because I don't qualify?" said a timid man.
"Why is that?" asked a man dressed like a wealthy merchant.
The shy man replied softly, "I haven't been able to break through into my actual bird form. You know it's a requirement that all students participating in the competition be able to transform into their respective animal form, whereas the Talisman Clan needs to have grown their bone of immortality."
Someone replied, "Of course, that's the main requirement for entry. Every hundred years, the royal clans send their best heirs and martial elites. Six months in the Academy, and if you're lucky, you make it to the tournament."
"And if you make it to the top lot of students," another leaned in, "you get to search for the Tianhun Sword."
"The one that can allow an immortal to become the ultimate power wielder and ruler of Tianxu?" a young martial artist asked in a low voice.
"The very same," answered the scholar. "They say whoever masters the sword will rule all of Tianxu."
"But…" a man added darkly, "if a mixed blood gets their hands on it, then there will be chaos. The clans will fall. Blood will flood the rivers. The balance of royal power will shatter."
At their table, Mo Yuchen suddenly stiffened, his chopsticks pausing mid-air. His hand slowly curled into a fist on the table, though his expression gave nothing away.
Feng Xiu Lan, who had just stuffed the last bite of her rice cake into her mouth, finally slowed down her chewing. She glanced sideways at him, her brows twitching slightly, but she didn't speak.
Without a word, Teacher Xuanji reached out and gently patted Mo Yuchen's fisted hand—just once, calm and steady.
Then he set down his teacup and said in his usual quiet voice, "Eat well. We've got a lot to prepare."