The faint silver light of dawn barely touched the delicate silk curtains of Meiyin's chamber, yet her eyes fluttered open as if pulled from sleep by threads. Her breath was soft and even, the graceful lines of her porcelain face untouched by time or worry. Long, raven-black curls spilled like midnight waves onto the satin pillow, glistening against her pale skin like moonlight on still water. In her dream, a gentle voice lingered a melody both haunting and serene.
She saw her mother.
Not as a fading memory, but luminous and alive.
A woman cloaked in golden mist and stars, her beauty not of this world. Her hair was silver laced with gold, her eyes deep pools of light and shadow that seemed to carry the weight of galaxies. She looked like she could have commanded the heavens and the sea alike, and yet her voice was soft, intimate, like the hush of wind on mountaintops.
She sat beside Meiyin.
"Mother?" the word slipped out like breath.
The woman smiled.
"You are not meant to remember me," she said. Her voice was soft, melodic, like chimes over still water. "But I remember you, little one. You were born on the night the stars fell. You wept louder than thunder and then smiled as though the world belonged to you. My fierce little daughter."
Meiyin's heart swelled and broke at once. "Are you… real?"
"I am a shadow," she said, "but shadows are cast by real light."
Then she knelt, reached out, and pressed her hand gently to Meiyin's heart. "When you wake, remember only this: you are not broken. You are blooming."
She began to hum, then sing a song that felt like wind slipping between clouds, ancient and aching, as though the heavens themselves once wept to it.
---
"In dawn's first light, the Sun did rise,
Gold fire in his fearless eyes.
He chased the edge of shadow's tune,
To find his love, the silver Moon.
The Moon, she danced on mirrored seas,
Her steps a hush upon the breeze.
She sang to stars who wept too soon,
For she could never touch the Sun at noon.
Yet when the dusk and dawn entwine,
Their hearts meet in a sacred line.
A fleeting kiss, then swept apart
Two halves of one eternal heart.
So sleep, my child, the stars still gleam,
Though love may live in light and dream.
One day, when all the skies align,
You'll wake to claim what once was mine."
The lullaby echoed with something eternal. Meiyin's childlike self in the dream leaned into her mother's arms, breathing in the scent of spring blossoms and stardust. Her mother's fingers stroked her hair like strands of silk, and for one moment, there was peace—perfect, complete.
But as dreams do, it faded.
The petals scattered into darkness. Her mother smiled one last time and was gone.
The final note lingered long after her mother faded away. Meiyin opened her mouth to cry out, to beg her not to leave but the dream slipped away like water through her fingers.
She woke with tears on her face and the echo of a lullaby in her mind.
The song felt ancient but familiar,like something she had heard before.
And far above the sect, hidden by cloud and night, the moon shone brighter than it had in years.
Meiyin woke with a quiet gasp.
For a while, she simply lay still. The light in her chamber had shifted: soft and golden, filtered through the paper screens. The song still trembled in her chest, its final note hanging somewhere beyond memory. She sat up slowly, brushing her fingers across her face. It had felt real. Her mother she had seen her. She had heard her voice.
A knock on the door.
"Miss Meiyin?" Lin Yue peeked in. "It's morning. Shall I prepare you?"
"Yes," Meiyin replied, her voice still caught between two worlds.
Lin Yue, ever gentle and precise, began to dress her in ceremonial robes of pale blue and lavender, embroidered with silver thread. The garments shimmered faintly in the light, and Lin Yue took her time brushing Meiyin's long hair until it fell in neat, shining waves. She added a delicate jade hairpin near the crown of her head something subtle, dignified.
"You look like someone carved from jade," Lin Yue murmured. "Just remember strength is not always loud. Sometimes, it's simply standing your ground."
Meiyin managed a small smile. "You always say the right things."
Lin Yue bowed slightly, eyes kind. "I'll walk you to the Hall."
She was back at that suffocating hall, Nothing had changed they still looked at her like an insignificant being .
Meiyin stepped to the center, her steps echoing.
Seated above her were the elders robed in white and silver, ancient in bearing. Their expressions were unreadable, but Meiyin felt their scrutiny like the weight of mountains.
And there was Jihan.
Sitting at the right of the dais, calm and composed, his expression carefully neutral. Yet something in his eyes betrayed the storm beneath concern, pride, restraint. He looked like a young emperor carved in marble, cold to the world, burning within.
Beside him stood a young man Meiyin did not recognize.
Sharp-featured and lean, he wore his senior disciple robes with a kind of effortless precision. His long hair was tied with a silk cord, and a sword rested at his side—not decorative, but worn and familiar. His gaze was focused, almost severe, but his eyes sparkled like someone who thought too quickly for his mouth.
This was Qiao Lian, Meiyin would later learn Jihan's close friend and one of the sect's brightest minds.
"Meiyin," Elder Su the woman with the silvery Grey hair spoke. "Have you reached a decision?"
Meiyin straightened her back. "Yes, Elder. I will join the Lotus Sect as a disciple."
The faintest ripple passed through the room.
"You understand," Elder Lan said, "That it is not so simple. All disciples must prove their worth. You will undergo a trial."
Meiyin would later find out that this was Lan Yi's grandfather.
"We will grant you one month to prepare," said Elder Lin. "You will be assigned a teacher, one of our senior disciples."
A man stepped forward.
He was tall, with broad shoulders and weathered hands. His hair was dark but streaked with silver at the temples, and a long scar trailed down one side of his neck a relic of a battle long past. His voice was deep, quiet, and steady.
"I am Wei Ming," he said. "Senior Disciple of the Lotus Sect. I'll be training you."
Meiyin bowed. "It is an honor, Teacher Wei."
He nodded once, not unkindly. "We'll begin tomorrow."
"You will also adhere to all sect rules," Elder Su added. "From this moment forward, you are under our discipline."
Meiyin bowed again. "I understand."
The meeting was adjourned with a quiet gesture from Jihan. The elders rose and swept from the chamber like mist, leaving only Meiyin, Jihan, Qiao, and Wei Ming.
As soon as the elders were out of earshot, Qiao's expression broke into a grin.
"I've been wanting to see you for myself," he said, stepping toward her with a mischievous gleam in his eyes.
Meiyin blinked, startled by the sudden shift.
Wei Ming sighed behind him. "Here we go."
"That fool is a total fox," he muttered, not even trying to whisper.
Qiao shot him a look. "She's interesting. You don't see someone like her walk in from the mountains every day."
"I can hear you both," Meiyin said calmly.
Qiao smiled without apology. "Good. You should get used to people talking about you. You've got that otherworldly air about you—like someone the heavens misplaced."
Meiyin didn't know how to respond to that. She glanced at Jihan, who hadn't moved.
He met her eyes briefly and said, "Wei Ming is one of the best instructors in the sect. You'll be safe under him."
"Safety's never guaranteed," Wei Ming said wryly. "But I'll do my best."
"I'm... ready," Meiyin said softly.
Jihan nodded once. "Then prepare yourself. The trial won't be easy."
She didn't flinch. "I didn't come here for ease."
A flicker of something perhaps respect, perhaps worry crossed his face.
"Very well," he said, and turned to leave, the edge of his robes trailing behind him.
Qiao lingered a moment longer.
"Welcome to the Lotus Sect, Meiyin. Let's see what exciting things you'll do."