The doors of Yinxue's private hall slammed shut with a thunderous echo.
Before Haotian could even take two steps inside, her voice cracked like a whip.
"Do you have any idea what you've done?!"
Her sleeve snapped as she turned, her icy gaze burning hotter than fire. "The courtyard was in chaos, my disciples shrieking like a flock of startled birds, elders losing their composure—over you! Over your smiles and your idle words! Do you think this is some kind of game?!"
Haotian stood quietly, hands clasped behind his back. His hair fell neatly over one shoulder, golden eyes calm, lips curved faintly upward.
When she finally paused to breathe, he tilted his head slightly, expression perfectly composed."…Sect Master, I truly didn't do anything. I only answered their questions. Honestly, I am completely… innocent."
The smile he gave as he said it was disarming, almost boyish, though his face and aura remained impossibly refined.
Yinxue's hand twitched within her sleeve. For an instant she felt the absurd urge to strike him, just to wipe away that look.
"You—!" she snapped, then exhaled sharply, forcing her voice lower. "Do you not understand? Your presence is already overwhelming. You terrify even elders. And now, instead of distance, you shower the disciples with warmth? You've turned their respect into obsession. This is dangerous, Haotian. For them—and for you."
Haotian's smile didn't falter. "Dangerous? To answer kindly? To laugh with them?"
Her eyes narrowed. "Do not twist my words. You've broken their discipline. And discipline is the root of a sect's survival."
For the first time, Haotian's smile softened into something almost thoughtful. He bowed slightly, his voice calm but steady.
"Then forgive me. Perhaps… I only wished to show them that I am not a god or a monster. That I am still… human."
Yinxue froze, her sharp words caught in her throat.
For a long moment, the only sound was the flicker of the candles in the quiet hall.
The hall was quiet but heavy, the candles flickering against the carved beams. Yin Xue's gaze did not waver from Haotian, though her arms folded more tightly within her sleeves.
Her voice was lower now, colder, each word measured."You call it the Nascent Realm. But what I felt… what all of us felt… was beyond that. Do not try to fool me, Haotian. Tell me truly—what did you gain from this breakthrough?"
Haotian's smile lingered, his golden eyes glinting faintly with mischief. He held her gaze for a long moment, then said softly—
"Enough to make immortals cry in fear."
Yinxue froze.
For the first time in decades, she found herself without words. The tone had been light, almost teasing, yet the way he said it carried weight — weight that sent a chill down her spine.
Her brows drew together, confusion clouding her sharp features. Was he joking? Or was it the truth? She could not tell, and that unsettled her even more.
At last she exhaled, a faint sigh escaping her lips. "Haotian… whatever you've become, whatever power you've grasped, you must not cause any more chaos within this sect. That is my order."
Haotian tilted his head, smile widening faintly."I'll try. But…" He lifted one hand in a casual gesture. "If one of your female disciples kidnaps me and ravages me, that is hardly my fault. I did not influence them to take that step."
Silence.
Yinxue's mouth twitched. For a long, painful heartbeat she could not find a response. The image his words conjured burned into her mind against her will, and she had to force her expression back into cold composure.
"...Get. Out."
Her voice cracked like ice over stone.
Haotian chuckled lightly, bowing at the waist."As you command, Sect Master."
He turned and left the hall, his steps light, almost careless.
Behind him, Yinxue pinched the bridge of her nose within her sleeve, her composure finally cracking for the briefest instant.
This boy will drive me to madness…
By the time Haotian left the Sect Master's hall, the whispers had already spread like wildfire.
Every corridor, every courtyard, every training ground in the Moon Lotus Sect was filled with hushed voices.
"Did you see his smile this morning? I swear my knees went weak!"
"He looked like a celestial prince… no, even better. Like the jade statues in the temples come alive."
"And he said ladies! My heart nearly stopped when he looked at me—at me directly!"
"No, he was looking at me!"
Some disciples covered their mouths, faces red, voices trembling as they shared embellished stories of their brief encounters. Others clustered in groups, arguing fiercely over who had been smiled at more warmly, or who had spoken closest to him.
The atmosphere, once tranquil, was becoming charged — not with discipline, but with giddy obsession.
Some whispers turned bolder.
"I heard Senior Sister say if she had the chance, she'd lock him in her chamber for a day!"
"Only a day? I'd keep him forever!"
"Careful… if the Sect Master hears talk like that…"
But the laughter only grew louder. The Moon Lotus Sect, once famed for its serenity and poise, now buzzed with dangerous fervor — all over one man.
From one corridor, another figure emerged.
Yin Shuyue.
Her veil was in place, her steps measured, her posture as calm and stoic as ever. The heart-sealing cultivation she had practiced for so long held her features still, her emotions hidden beneath layers of discipline.
The disciples noticed her immediately, bowing respectfully as she passed. "Senior Sister Shuyue."
She nodded faintly, not pausing, her presence cool and distant.
But as she walked, the voices of the disciples trailed after her ears.
"…Senior Brother Haotian—"
"…his hair gleamed like silk…"
"…his smile, I thought I'd faint—"
"…can you imagine him as your dao companion?"
Every group she passed, every cluster of whispers, carried the same name. Haotian.
Her brows drew slightly together beneath the veil.
What is going on?
She continued forward, her steps steady, but the storm of gossip followed her everywhere.
Even with her cultivation sealing her heart, a faint, imperceptible ripple passed through her chest.
Shuyue moved down the long, quiet hallways of the Moon Lotus Sect, her footsteps light upon the polished stone.
The air was filled with whispers still. Every group of disciples she passed seemed to carry the same name, their voices laced with excitement.
"…did you see how he smiled when she spoke—"
"—like a noble from the heavens themselves—"
"—Haotian, Haotian—"
Her brows pressed faintly together behind her veil. So many rumors… all of them about him.
Her steps carried her without thought. Lost in the tide of murmurs, she barely realized where she was until the faint, musical sound of laughter snapped her from her thoughts.
She blinked, startled, and looked up.
The alchemy hall loomed before her, its doors open. From within came the warm crackle of fire and the faint herbal fragrance of refining pills. And over it all — voices. Chattering, laughing, overlapping.
She hesitated at the threshold.
Inside, Haotian sat before a bronze cauldron, pale flames dancing steadily as medicinal herbs dissolved into glowing liquid. His posture was relaxed, hands moving with measured precision as the pill took form.
Around him, a cluster of female disciples lingered, their eyes fixed on him as though he were the only light in the room. They whispered, giggled, some even daring to ask small questions, and he answered them lightly while never breaking his focus.
He looked different here — not the stoic savior, not the terrifying figure drenched in blood, but calm, approachable, smiling faintly as he refined with steady hands.
Shuyue's steps faltered.
Haotian glanced up. Their eyes met.
For the briefest instant, his golden eyes frowned — not sharply, but as though a shadow had crossed his thoughts. Then he looked back down at the cauldron, the faintest crease smoothing as he continued refining.
Shuyue stood in the doorway, unmoving. Her hands tightened within her sleeves, her breath shallow though her face betrayed nothing.
The disciples around him did not notice her, too absorbed in their chatter.
She lingered longer than she realized, her chest tightening with a strange pressure she could neither name nor accept.
At last, she turned. Her steps were silent as she withdrew, her veil brushing faintly in the wind as she vanished down the corridor.
Inside the alchemy hall, Haotian did not raise his head.
But his hand paused, just briefly, upon the cauldron lid. His eyes softened, unseen by those around him.
He had noticed.
The sect was quiet at night, the lanterns along the corridors flickering gently in the cool breeze. Haotian walked slowly, his steps unhurried, his mind restless despite the calm around him.
As he passed one of the garden courtyards, a faint movement caught his eye.
There, seated upon a stone chair beneath the flowering pear trees, was Shuyue. The moonlight poured across her pale figure, her veil faintly silver under its glow. She sat still, gazing upward, her posture elegant yet heavy with unspoken thought.
Haotian paused, then smiled softly.
He stepped forward, his voice low and warm."You can't sleep?"
Shuyue turned slightly. Her eyes widened faintly when she saw him, though her face betrayed no change. "…Haotian."
He came closer and lowered himself onto the stone bench beside hers. For a time, neither spoke. The sound of rustling leaves filled the silence, and above them the full moon hung like a silver disc in the deep night sky.
"It's bright tonight," Haotian said, his gaze tilted upward. "Almost too bright to sleep."
Shuyue inclined her head slightly. "…Yes."
They sat like that for a while, quiet words exchanged here and there, their tones subdued.
But then, without warning, Haotian turned to her. His eyes, reflecting the moonlight, seemed to pierce through her veil."Why did you go back to using the heart-seal cultivation?"
Shuyue froze.
Her breath caught, her body stiffening. How… does he know?
Haotian's lips curved faintly. "You turned back to the original version. I can feel it. Why? Did something happen?"
Shuyue lowered her gaze, silent.
"You can tell me," Haotian continued softly, leaning back slightly. "Why did you close off your heart again? I warned you of the ri—"
"You don't need to know."
Her voice cut across his words, firm but faintly trembling.
She rose to her feet, her robes fluttering softly in the night breeze. She turned, bowing politely. "I will be going to sleep. Sleep well, Haotian."
Without another word, she walked away, her figure vanishing down the moonlit path.
Haotian remained seated, watching her back until she disappeared. His chest rose and fell with a heavy exhale. Slowly, he shook his head, a rueful smile tugging at his lips.
"Things just can't be forced, huh?" he murmured to the silent garden.
Then his eyes lifted once more to the moon, clear and bright above him. A sudden thought flickered through his mind, and a small, knowing smirk curved his lips.
Morning sunlight filtered softly through the silken curtains of Shuyue's chamber. She sat before her polished bronze mirror, a jade comb in her hand as she drew it slowly through her long, dark hair. Each movement was measured, precise, her face calm as still water.
Just as she set the comb aside, a knock sounded at her door.
"Senior Sister Shuyue."
Her brow furrowed faintly. She stood, straightening her robes, and slid open the chamber doors.
Haotian leaned casually against the doorframe, one hand resting above his head, the other hidden behind his back. His golden eyes gleamed with a warmth that seemed entirely out of place in the sect's cold morning air.
"Good morning," he said with a smile.
Shuyue stiffened, startled. Her lips parted slightly before she caught herself, her voice turning cold and restrained. "Do you need—"
But Haotian cut her off, bringing his left hand forward.
Balanced upon it was a wooden tray, set neatly with steamed buns, a dish of fresh fruit, and a porcelain bowl of soup still releasing thin curls of steam.
"Breakfast," he said lightly. "I figured since you've closed your heart, you might not like going outside much. So—" his smile deepened, eyes narrowing playfully, "—I brought it to you instead."
He lifted the tray slightly, the porcelain clinking faintly. "Here. The soup is specially made by me."
And then, with that infuriating smirk:"It should… warm you up."
Shuyue froze.
Her body went rigid, her hands twitching at her sides. For once, her cultivated calm wavered — but no words came.
So Haotian moved first.
Without hesitation, he reached forward, gently guiding her hand upward, and placed the tray into her grasp.
"There," he said, his voice almost teasing, "now you have no excuse."
Before she could reply, he stepped back, the same disarming smile still on his face. He turned, walking down the hall with a casual ease that infuriated her more than any arrogance could.
But then he glanced back over his shoulder, catching her eyes.
And winked.
Shuyue's breath caught.
Heat rose beneath her veil, blooming across her cheeks. She stood frozen in the doorway, tray trembling slightly in her hands, unable to process what had just happened.
At last she managed to retreat into her chamber. Her feet stopped abruptly, and with a sharp motion she slammed the door shut, the sound echoing through the quiet halls.
Inside, she set the tray down with trembling fingers, her heart pounding uncontrollably.
What… was that…?
Inside her chamber, the tray sat silently upon her table, steam still curling faintly from the porcelain bowl.
Shuyue stood before it, motionless. Her hands were clenched at her sides, her veil hiding the faint color upon her cheeks.
Her heart beat faster than it should have, far faster than it had in years.
She drew in a long breath, forcing herself to calm, to return to the icy composure that her Heart-Seal Cultivation demanded. And yet—every time she remembered the way Haotian had leaned in the doorway, smiling, calling it breakfast as though it were the most natural thing in the world, that thin thread of calm threatened to unravel.
Slowly, she sat.
Her fingers hovered over the bowl of soup, hesitating. She told herself she didn't need to eat it. That she shouldn't. That it was meaningless.
And yet, her hand moved anyway.
She lifted the bowl and brought it to her lips.
The first sip was warm, richer than she expected, the flavor deep and carefully balanced. A heat spread down her throat, filling her chest, easing the faint tension that lingered in her meridians.
It was good. Far too good.
She set the bowl down quickly, as if caught in the act, her breath faintly unsteady.
Why… why is he doing this?
Her fingers curled against her lap. The Heart-Seal demanded distance, demanded detachment. Yet the warmth from the soup lingered in her chest, impossible to dispel.
She lifted the bowl again, telling herself it was only because wasting food was foolish. Another sip, then another.
By the time she set it down once more, the porcelain was empty.
Shuyue pressed a hand lightly against her chest, as though to quiet the erratic beating beneath.
No. This means nothing. It must mean nothing.
Her expression returned to stillness, her veil once more a mask. And yet, despite her denial, the faint warmth remained—like an ember refusing to die.
The Moon Lotus Sect had barely begun to settle after the Beast Tide and Haotian's startling breakthrough when new whispers reached their gates.
At first, they were only fragments—traders arriving late, caravans refusing to travel through certain mountain passes, letters delivered with trembling hands. Rumors of movement in the north. Of beasts unlike any seen before.
By the third day, those rumors carried weight.
A wounded scout collapsed at the sect's outer boundary, his robes torn and body streaked with frostbite. He carried no beast core, no trophies—only fear.
"From the north…" he gasped before fainting, his words like a curse upon the courtyard.
Sect Master Yinxue received the reports in silence, her expression hardening as she read the scribbled testimonies.
Glaciers stirring. Frozen peaks rumbling with unnatural echoes. Entire valleys swallowed in sudden blizzards. A shadow moving beneath the ice.
It was not a beast tide this time. No stampede of lower creatures. This was something else. Something far older, far colder.
The council of elders gathered, faces pale in the torchlight.
"If the north awakens…" one whispered, "then even the Nine Sects together may not be enough."
Whispers turned to silence as the doors opened.
Haotian entered, his steps steady, his expression calm. His robes were plain, but the faint golden light in his eyes seemed to illuminate the hall.
The elders shifted uneasily, memories of his aura during the Beast Tide still fresh. Even the Sect Master's eyes flicked toward him, weighing the balance of power now that he stood within their midst.
Haotian clasped his hands behind his back, his voice quiet but carrying to every corner of the chamber."The north has moved before," he said. "And when it does, it is never without reason. Tell me everything you know."
The flicker of torches cast long shadows over the maps of icebound peaks.
The next storm was already brewing.
The council chamber of Moon Lotus Sect was thick with tension. Maps of the northern ranges lay unrolled across the long table, weighted at the corners by jade stones. Candles flickered against the high walls, shadows of the gathered elders stretching long and thin.
"The northern ridges are stirring," Elder Ming said, his knuckles pale against the wood. "If we send disciples to investigate, we risk losing them. Scouts cannot survive what lies beyond the Icebound Peaks."
Another elder shook his head. "And if we do not send them, the other sects will accuse us of cowardice. They will say Moon Lotus hides behind its walls while the world trembles."
A third spoke bitterly, voice low: "Better cowardice than corpses."
The argument rolled like waves, back and forth, voices tightening with each exchange. Some demanded immediate investigation. Others argued for fortification, insisting that the sect's strength must not be squandered on shadows and rumors.
At the head of the chamber, Sect Master Yinxue listened without interruption. Her eyes moved from face to face, her expression calm, unreadable.
Haotian sat quietly to her right, hands folded upon his knees. His gaze drifted across the maps, but he spoke no words, offered no counsel. The elders, too uneasy to draw his opinion, avoided meeting his eyes.
Silence finally fell, the debate collapsing under its own weight.
Sect Master Yinxue spoke at last."We will not decide tonight. The council will reconvene when more information is gathered. For now… we wait."
The elders bowed, some in relief, some in frustration, before filtering out into the shadowed corridors.
Only Haotian remained seated a moment longer. His golden eyes lingered on the maps, then slid closed.
There is no need for this endless talk. Tomorrow, I will settle this matter.
The thought was calm, absolute. To him, the "threat" that stirred in the north was nothing but a child's plaything.
That night, within his chamber, the world was silent.
Haotian sat cross-legged upon the mat, his breath steady, his body still.
With a thought, the Heaven Sundering Trinity Scripture unfolded within him. The three cores — dantian, heart, and brow — pulsed in resonance. Energy surged, flowing between them like rivers of molten gold.
At first the pressure mounted, the familiar strain threatening to tear his body apart. But he endured, guiding the flow with iron discipline. The resonance deepened, the three cores vibrating together in perfect harmony.
A shockwave rippled outward, rattling the windows of his chamber. Then the energy settled, calm, steady, more stable than before.
Haotian exhaled slowly. Good. The resonance has grown stronger. The foundation is firm.
But he was not finished.
He turned inward once more, stepping into the golden halls of his inner world. Shelves of light stretched endlessly before him, each script and sutra written in living text across the void.
His gaze fell upon one in particular.
The Undying Dragon Sutra.
The characters glowed with a deep, coiling power. A scripture of body cultivation, left untouched until now.
Haotian reached out. His fingers brushed the luminous text, and the words leapt into him like fire. His vision darkened, then flared with images of scales, sinew, and roaring flood dragons that coiled through the heavens.
His lips curved faintly.
The cores are resonating. The foundation is strong. Now it is time… to advance my body.
And so, beneath the silent night sky, Haotian began the next step.