At Kun Island – State of Records - Council Hall,
The towering glass-paneled dome of the State of Records shimmered in hues of amethyst and gold as the last rays of twilight filtered in. Beneath it, the Ten Hallmasters stood encircling the obsidian council table. Floating glyphs of their respective Halls hovered like celestial spirits in slow orbit.
At the head stood Su Mengtian, Sovereign of the Heavenly Spear Alliance Realm. Draped in his ceremonial midnight storm-robe, the Thunder Dragon sigil etched across his back sparked faint arcs of lightning. Yueying stood silently to his right, her long white hair braided in twin loops, the Snow Pavilion crest engraved in sapphire across her shoulder.
Mengtian spoke with calm finality.
"I will be leaving Kun Island for a time. Not to abandon my post, but to honor the life that shaped it. Yueying and I will return to Huayin Village, beyond the Veilstone Range, where I was raised. Where my parents still live."
Ji Yeyan stepped forward, his voice even but laced with undertones of concern. "A sovereign returning to his roots is no weakness. But will the people see it that way?"
Mengtian nodded. "Let them. If we lose our roots, we become tyrants, not leaders."
Baojin bowed. "The defenses of Kun Island will remain strong. The Halls are united."
"And the people?" Yue Mei asked.
Xuan Le, who had just entered with a scroll in hand, smiled. "They already tell tales of the storm-sky couple riding dragons across dawn. You leave not in silence, but as legend."
A ripple of warm laughter spread among the Hallmasters. Kaisen, Hallmaster of the Dawnriders, saluted sharply. "Shall I prepare a vanguard?"
Mengtian shook his head. "No need. Xiaoyun has already arranged the Storm Wyrm King's return flight."
Lan Qiu, his robes fluttering as wind curled beneath his boots, grinned. "Then let the sky remember your return."
Next day - At early morning,
The Storm Wyrm King soared above the shrouded world, a divine serpent cloaked in thunder-clouds. Beneath them sprawled the majestic, untouched wilderness of the Veilstone Range. Crystalline rivers wound through snow-dusted cliffs; ancient trees whose roots glowed with ley energy formed the canopy of forgotten forests.
Yueying leaned against Mengtian's shoulder as the wind rustled through her cloak.
"Do you ever miss it?" she asked.
"The quiet? Every day," Mengtian said, staring at the horizon.
Yueying's voice dropped. "I wonder what they will say. Your family. When they see you as the man the world now fears and follows."
"I hope they see me as their son. Their brother. Their boy who left with a wooden sword and dreams of justice."
The Storm Wyrm banked eastward, spiraling toward a valley ringed with emerald cliffs. Below, nestled among waterfalls and floating bridges, was Huayin Village.
At Huayin Village,
The morning sun cast golden rays over Huayin Village. Nestled between the arms of the Veilstone Range, its mist-veiled pathways and lush terraces felt like an untouched realm of peace. A gentle breeze rolled through the valley, carrying the scent of early jasmine and the rhythm of birdsong.
The village looked untouched by time. Lanterns danced in the breeze, suspended from white stone arches. Cherry blossoms drifted over koi-filled ponds, and cultivators in simple robes moved through the courtyards of meditation halls.
As the Storm Wyrm descended, a thunderous gong echoed.
At the village gates stood four figures:
Su Leilong, Once hailed as the Lightning Dragon Emperor, now cloaked in plain storm-gray robes. His eyes were twin storms, fierce yet weary.
Long Xuemei, Former Astral Phoenix Empress, graceful and sharp as burning starlight.
Su Tianlei bore a reckless flame and Su Lingyue a calm storm. Twin prodigies, now young adults.
Su Leilong stepped forward, eyes narrowing as Mengtian dismounted.
"So. The Sovereign returns."
Mengtian bowed deeply. "No titles here. Just your son, home again."
Leilong's voice cracked. "You left in lightning. You return with thunder."
Long Xuemei embraced Mengtian tightly. "And yet you're still my boy with muddy boots and questions for the stars."
Tianlei (to Yueying), "Are you the one who stole my brother's attention from battle reports?"
Yueying (smiling), "Only during peace treaties."
Lingyue (quietly), "I watched every broadcast... I memorized every time you smiled. Brother... I'm glad you came back whole."
The stillness in the village was shattered by word spreading faster than the wind, "Su Mengtian has returned!"
Children dropped their handwoven toys and ran through the winding trails. Elders paused in mid-conversation, wide-eyed and murmuring to one another as they leaned on walking canes. Farmers abandoned their water buffalo at the edge of terraced fields, wiping their brows and blinking as if they'd seen a god return from exile.
Village Elder Huo Shancheng, oldest among them and keeper of the ancestral bell, stood frozen at the entrance to the village hall. He squinted toward the distance, where the fading thunderhead marked the direction of the Storm Wyrm King's descent.
"He's truly come home," he whispered.
A chorus of voices rose around him.
"Did you see the lightning? It kissed the Wyrm's wings!"
"And the woman beside him—a goddess in white and silver!"
"He's grown taller... but his eyes are the same. Like fire behind calm water."
At Su Family House - At evening - Family Dinner Under Starlight,
The family gathered beneath the ancient phoenix cypress, where moonlight dappled the wooden table with silver patterns. Simple food—rice cakes, herbal stew, fire-roasted lotus root—filled the air with warmth.
Su Leilong broke the silence. "Tell me of the empire."
Mengtian leaned back. "It's broken. But rebuilding. Ruixian is crowned Prince. The clans fear the people now. Not the other way around."
Xuemei, "And your war with yourself?"
Mengtian looked to Yueying. "I won, the day she chose to stay."
Lingyue, "Will we see Kun Island? The Ten Halls? The dragon libraries?"
Yueying, "Of course. But tonight, let your brother just be your brother."
Laughter. Joy. The clink of tea cups and old stories returning like birds to nests.
That evening, after word spread like wildfire, a dozen of the village elders gathered at Long Xuemei's old moon-hall residence. The decision was swift.
"We must honor his return," said Elder Li Yu, her voice firm.
"A feast in the Hall. Not tomorrow, but tonight. Before the stars forget their alignment!"
"Inform Lady Xuemei," said Elder Chen Guang. "Let her approve the ceremonial lanterns. The old oaths must be spoken again."
At Midnight,
Mengtian and Yueying walked hand-in-hand to the mountain shrine where ancestors were honored. Rows of tablets flickered with ancestral qi.
They lit incense.
Mengtian, "These names... they fought so I could exist. Now I live so their memory becomes purpose."
Yueying (placing a tablet beside his), "Then let this be a prayer not for vengeance. But for continuity."
They sat in silence.
A wind rose.
From the sky, a thundercloud coalesced above the shrine. Lightning twisted into a spiral: the Thunder Dragon Sigil.
Yueying (whispering): "Without being summoned... it still came."
Mengtian, "Even the skies remember."
They watched until dawn broke.
And the world, for a moment, was only peace and promise.
Next day - At the Village Square,
Su Mengtian stood surrounded. Children crowded around his boots, tugging at the hem of his coat.
"Brother Mengtian, is it true you fought sky pirates?!"
"Did you really fly with dragons?"
"Can you summon lightning from your hands? Do it! Do it!"
Su Mengtian chuckled, kneeling.
"Only if you all promise to practice your calligraphy and your windsteps every day."
Groans and giggles erupted, followed by Yueying kneeling beside him and summoning a soft orb of snowlight from her palm.
The children gasped. "She's like the moon!"
Yueying smiled gently. "Only when he is the sky."
Behind them, the adults gathered. Faces weathered by seasons and war, eyes full of awe.
Elder Huo approached, cane tapping, his voice hoarse but steady.
"Su Mengtian. The child who used to run barefoot down the prayer road, always vanishing into stormclouds. Look at you now. Warden of a realm."
Mengtian bowed deeply. "And yet, still just your student. I remember every lesson you gave beneath the fig tree."
Huo's eyes misted. "We are proud. The heavens watched us raise lightning."
By dusk, the village transformed. Lanterns strung between plum trees, fluttering prayer slips added to willow branches. Smoke rose from roasting pits, carrying the aroma of spice-stewed hare, seared lake fish, and steamed lotus buns.
Inside the Hall, an ancestral drum was dusted off and set at the center. Children practiced the village dance near the pond. Farmers turned artisans for a day, bringing carved tokens and poems to line the stairwell.
Just Before the Feast,
On the veranda of their guest lodge, Yueying brushed a loose strand from Mengtian's brow.
"You didn't expect all this."
"No," Mengtian admitted. "And yet... this feels more like a coronation than the real one."
Yueying laughed. "Because here, you are not Sovereign. You are just 'our Mengtian'."
He took her hand gently.
"Sometimes that's what I wish to be again."
She leaned her head against her shoulder. "Then let tonight be that dream."
And as night fell, drums echoed across Huayin.
It was not the thunder of war.
It was the heartbeat of home.