Deep beneath the opulent marble floors of the Bird Clan's Royal Castle, the palace dungeons pulsed with an eerie quiet. The air was damp and cold, the only light coming from faintly glowing moss that crawled along the stone walls. Chains clinked softly in the distance, and somewhere, water dripped steadily.
Feng Xiu Lan sat cross-legged in the corner of her cell, arms folded, hair slightly tousled but eyes calm. Across the stone passage, in a separate cell, Mo Yuchen leaned against the bars, his head tilted as if listening to something only he could hear.
At the end of the corridor, two guards stood silently, alert but unaware of what would soon unfold.
Feng Xiu Lan finally broke the silence.
"So… if the Saintess hadn't arrived, what then?"
Mo Yuchen didn't look at her. Instead, he pulled a small clip from his hair, an ornamental silver pin shaped like a feather.
"It was all in the timing," he murmured, kneeling by the lock. "If not her arrival, then before the second quarter of the hour of the Rat, the castle would've lifted the city bridge. You know this."
He inserted the pin into the cell's keyhole. A soft click followed.
The cell door swung open.
Mo Yuchen stood and turned to her with a faint smirk. "Well?"
She didn't hesitate. Reaching into her hair, she removed her own pin, a more delicate one with tiny talisman carvings etched along its length. A few practiced twists later, her door, too, clicked open.
As they stepped into the corridor, the mossy light shimmered against their robes.
Footsteps light, they moved deeper into the dungeon's shadows.
"Let's go," he whispered.
"Do you remember what the elders told us?" Mo Yuchen asked softly as they turned a sharp corner.
Feng Xiu Lan gave a slight nod. "Teacher Lianyu showed us the maps and models herself, remember? This path should take us to the hidden door that leads to the underground cave."
Mo Yuchen exhaled through his nose, recalling the quiet chamber back under the dome, the elders gathered around a glowing table marked with talisman lines. Teacher Lianyu had been the one explaining—pointing to miniature models of the dungeon, tracing routes with her fingers while Teacher Xuanji and Teacher Doubao filled in the details.
They had memorized every inch of it.
Now, the duo moved swiftly but cautiously, turning through narrow corridors lined with iron torch holders and ancient carvings. The damp air grew warmer, almost humming with residual qi.
Feng Xiu Lan reached a particular carving in the wall and placed her palm against it.
"Here," she whispered.
She pressed a small, almost invisible latch shaped like a phoenix feather. A gentle click echoed, and part of the wall shifted inward with a soft groan.
Beyond it, a stone stairwell curved down into darkness, lit faintly by silver crystals embedded in the rock.
Feng Xiu Lan nodded. "Let's keep moving."
The passage wasn't forgotten, it was secret, sacred, and very much alive.
Together, they descended into the dim passage, the stone growing colder, smoother, more ancient with every step. Faint lines of talisman script pulsed along the walls, guiding their path.
At the base of the stairs, a set of golden doors stood—barely visible, half-buried beneath vines of glowing spirit ivy.
They had arrived at the threshold of the Heart Vault.
A shimmering golden barrier of qi shimmered faintly over the surface of the doors, like sunlight trapped beneath water.
Mo Yuchen's fingers hovered near the barrier, feeling its resistance.
"It's locked with blood recognition," he murmured.
Feng Xiu Lan stepped forward. "Then it has to be me."
She pricked her finger with a tiny talisman pin and let a drop of her blood fall onto the center emblem carved into the door.
The barrier pulsed, then faded with a soft hum, retreating like mist.
The doors groaned open.
And together, they stepped into the vault beyond.
***
A wave of dry heat rolled out, heavy and suffocating.
The chamber beyond was cylindrical and vast, its walls glowing red-orange from the lava that bubbled far below. There were no stairs—just a dizzying drop into the glowing abyss. In the very center, suspended on a narrow dias rising from the lava, sat the enchanted Aqua Pearl Powder, its crystalline grains swirling inside a translucent container.
Feng Xiu Lan shaded her eyes from the shimmer.
"So that's it," she murmured.
Mo Yuchen narrowed his gaze. "Teacher Xuanji said only a phoenix can reach it easily. Dragons can withstand the heat, but the fumes near the powder repel them."
"And I'm not in my true form yet," Feng Xiu Lan said.
Mo Yuchen smiled slightly. "Which is why we brought something else."
He reached up and pulled a red ribbon from his hair. The ribbon unfurled, growing longer and longer until it snapped into a coil of crimson cloth ending in a series of compact, rune-etched arrows.
"Teacher Doubao calls it Emberthread," Mo Yuchen said. "Woven from fire spider silk, phoenix tail feather, and sun-flax. Light enough to carry, strong enough to hold in lava heat."
"You hid that in your hair?" Feng Xiu Lan asked, blinking.
"Best place. Who checks hair?"
With a practiced motion, Mo Yuchen focused his qi on the crimson arrows, guiding them through the air with precise, silent control. The arrows shot out and embedded themselves into the rocky walls in a calculated interwoven pattern. Lines of red Emberthread fabric unfurled between them, creating a web across the cylindrical cave, taut and glowing faintly from the heat.
Then he tied one end of another Emberthread rope around his waist.
"You're next."
Feng Xiu Lan grabbed the other end and tied it to her own waist. With a nod, she stepped onto the edge.
"Here goes everything."
She leapt off the edge and swung across the Emberthread lattice, the crisscrossed strands forming a strategic bridge through the molten chamber. Each taut line had been embedded in precise patterns to serve as both pathway and foothold—crafted not just for movement, but for stability under pressure. Mo Yuchen had laid them with care, knowing every step she took might decide the success of their mission.
The final stretch of Emberthread had ended several feet above the dais, forcing Feng Xiu Lan to descend the last bit alone. The fabric around her waist tugged slightly—Mo Yuchen, standing above on a steady ledge, had braced himself and planted his feet, channeling qi into his stance to anchor her drop.
She lowered herself with care, feeling the subtle tension in the Emberthread keeping her steady. With a breath of focus, she went headfirst, balancing against the radiating heat. The fabric at her waist stretched tight, anchored above by Mo Yuchen, who had braced himself with qi-infused footing against the rock. Swinging slightly over the lava, she reached the dais with Aqua Pearl Powder. Her fingers hovered, then gently scooped the crystalline grains into a crystal vial, sealing it tight against the rising fumes.
Mo Yuchen pulled Feng Xiu Lan up until she could plant her feet firmly on the crisscrossed Emberthread web stretched across the cavern. She straightened with effort, breath steady, the crystal vial still clutched in her hand, secure and shimmering with the stolen Aqua Pearl Powder.
But as soon as she did—the chamber trembled.
Click. Grind. Roar.
From the walls, talisman arrays ignited. Arrows shot out. Thunderclaw shrikes, fierce, metallic-feathered birds with glowing red eyes and hooked talons, screeched to life and soared from hidden hollows.
"Trap!" Mo Yuchen shouted.
Above them, a shriek tore through the heat-heavy air as a Thunderclaw shrike swooped downward. Its steel-like talons slashed through the Emberthread rope, binding Mo Yuchen and Feng Xiu Lan together.
The fabric snapped.
Without hesitation, Mo Yuchen launched himself after Feng Xiu Lan, who was still battling the swarm of shrikes near the dais far below.
The layered Emberthread fabric groaned under shifting heat and tension. Mo Yuchen stood atop one of the upper bands, his stance sure, sword drawn and glinting crimson in the lava's glow. Below him, Feng Xiu Lan raced across the fabric layers like a streak of fire. Each landing was precise; each swing a burst of trained power. The web of Emberthread wasn't rope; it was a network of taut, heat-resistant fabric panels, each one stretched between anchored points like suspended walkways. Designed for flexibility, they held just enough give to aid momentum and balance, but not a thread more.
They weren't just surviving; they were fighting.
The birds came fast—razor-beaked Thunderclaw shrikes with metallic feathers slicing through the heated air like blades. Mo Yuchen launched forward, moving from fabric layer to fabric layer with deadly grace, sword flashing in smooth arcs of energy-infused steel.
Below him, Feng Xiu Lan moved like a flame with a will of its own. She vaulted from fabric panel to panel, twisting midair, her sword slicing in precise, brutal cuts. A shrike screeched down at her—she jumped to meet it, flipping in midair and cleaving it clean through before landing hard, knees bent, breath steady.
"You call that a dive?" she snarled at the next bird. "I've seen pigeons with more grace!"
Mo Yuchen sliced through two shrikes that dove at him simultaneously, then shouted, "Right side—three more!"
"I see them," she growled, spinning into a sideways dash, her blade whistling through the air. One bird fell. Another clipped her shoulder but she turned, eyes blazing, and slashed it apart with one clean motion.
They moved like twin stars—spinning, striking, dodging, leaping. Not a single movement wasted.
Mo Yuchen reached behind him, tugged the length of Emberthread fabric from his waist, and with a snap of his wrist, spun it like a whip to snare the talons of a shrike mid-flight. With a grunt, he yanked, pulling it off-course—and straight into Feng Xiu Lan's sword.
She smirked. "Thanks."
"Don't get used to it."
Below, the vial of Aqua Pearl Powder remained strapped to her waist, glinting like stolen moonlight.
A shriek above—another shrike dove.
Mo Yuchen parried it with his sword, but in the chaos, the tethered fabric still looped around his waist became a target. The shrike clawed and pulled the fabric making Mo Yuchen swing forward around the tied fabrics.
That moment another shrike slammed into Feng Xiu Lan from behind.
She dropped fast, sword tumbling, body twisting, but not screaming. Even falling, she fought. Her hands flared with qi as she caught a shrike by its neck mid-drop and drove it down into the lava with her foot as she flipped off it to try and redirect herself.
Above, Mo Yuchen saw it happen. He sheathed his sword, sprinted across a fabric strip, then leapt, diving with everything he had.
"Xiu Lan!"
She looked up only for a moment, her eyes looking into his.
But before the lava could meet them both—
Her qi surged.
A flare of red-gold light burst from her chest, racing along her limbs. Her eyes glowed. Her bones burned. She threw her arms wide, and fire answered.
Flames twisted around her in elegant chaos. Her body cracked with light. Feathers unfurled like banners of war.
Then—
Wings.
A cry split the chamber. Radiant. Defiant.
A phoenix burst into being, flames cascading from her beak and tail, wings arcing with light. Feng Xiu Lan had become flame incarnate.
The shrikes shrieked and scattered.
Mo Yuchen was caught mid-fall and scooped in blazing talons as she soared upward. He stared in silent awe, one hand clutching her leg, the other shielding his eyes.
The phoenix rose. With one final beat of her wings, she burst through the mountain's peak in a storm of light.
Above, the palace guards and Saintess watched as the sky split in a flare of fire.
"A royal divine phoenix!" the Saintess whispered in awe.
"Princess Meiyu?" a guard said, stunned.
Feng Yanzhao said nothing. His eyes were locked on the blazing figure vanishing into the stars.
Far above, Feng Xiu Lan carried Mo Yuchen into the night; the heavens lit behind them in gold and crimson flame.