It was the morning after Zixiao's first night of freedom.
For the first time in years, he had slept on a real bed—warm, soft, and clean. Back in the Jie family's mansion, all he had was a ragged piece of cloth laid on the cold floor, his bones pressing against the freezing ground each night.
Now, wrapped in warmth, he had slept deeply—like a child who had finally escaped a nightmare.
When the morning sunlight filtered through the window, it brushed across his face, stirring him awake. Slowly, Zixiao's eyes opened… and the first thing he saw was Mu Feng's smiling face hovering above him.
"Had a nice sleep?" the old man said, his tone light and teasing.
But Zixiao's heart froze.
Panic flooded his mind.
Before Mu Feng could react, Zixiao jumped off the bed, dropping to his knees.
"Please! Please have mercy! I won't sleep that much again! Please don't punish me!"
He began slamming his forehead into the wooden floor again and again—each thud echoing through the quiet room. Blood began to trickle down his face, his voice trembling with terror.
Mu Feng's expression instantly changed from amusement to shock.
"Stop—! Stop that, hero!" he shouted, rushing forward.
He grabbed Zixiao's shoulders and pulled him up, his old hands trembling slightly as he wiped the blood from the boy's forehead.
"Who told you I'd punish you for sleeping?" Mu Feng's voice softened. "You're free now, Zixiao. You don't have to bow to anyone anymore."
But Zixiao couldn't even look at him—his body still trembling from years of fear that refused to fade overnight.
Zixiao's mind went blank for a moment—then the memories came flooding back.
Each time he overslept in the Jie mansion, the matron and Jie Zhaosan would storm in, their faces twisted in disgust.
Crack!
The sound of the whip echoed again and again in his head. He could still feel the burning pain across his back, the sharp scent of blood mixing with the cold air. They wouldn't stop until he bled, until his voice went hoarse from screaming.
Those memories had carved deep scars into his heart. He couldn't separate the past from the present.
He wasn't just afraid—he was traumatized. After all, he was only a child who had spent most of his life surrounded by blood and darkness.
"Hero, listen to me," Mu Feng's calm voice broke through the chaos in Zixiao's head. "You're not a slave anymore. You don't have to kneel or plead to anyone."
Mu Feng sat beside him and gently pressed a glowing green paste against Zixiao's bleeding forehead. The paste was cool to the touch, and within seconds, the pain faded.
"Here," Mu Feng said softly, placing a small black pill in his hand. "Eat this."
Zixiao hesitated, then obeyed silently. The moment the pill slid down his throat, a sharp bitterness spread through his mouth—but he didn't complain.
"Hero," Mu Feng said after a pause, his voice carrying a rare firmness, "remember this one rule for the rest of your life—"
He placed his hand over Zixiao's messy hair, brushing it gently aside.
"Never kneel to anyone… except to those you truly love."
The words lingered in the air, heavy and sacred.
For the first time, Zixiao didn't respond. He simply looked up at Mu Feng's eyes—clear, calm, and full of warmth. Something deep inside him, long buried beneath years of fear, flickered faintly to life again.
"You know what," Mu Feng said after a brief silence, stroking his beard with a thoughtful look, "let's take a walk in the forest. The air's clear today—it'll help clear your head. And besides, I need to gather a few herbs."
His voice was calm, almost cheerful, carrying a quiet wisdom that somehow made Zixiao feel safe.
Zixiao blinked, a little surprised, but when he saw the sincerity in Mu Feng's expression, he nodded obediently.
"O–okay," he murmured softly.
Mu Feng smiled faintly and stood up, his long blue robe swaying with the morning breeze. "Good. Let's go, hero."
Minutes later, the two were making their way toward the forest's entrance.
Mu Feng wore his usual flowing blue robe, but now he had his yellow straw hat resting lightly over his head, the tip of his long pipe releasing lazy curls of white smoke that drifted with the morning wind.
Beside him walked Zixiao, dressed in a new robe—a brown-orange fabric embroidered with dark red dragon patterns that shimmered faintly under the sunlight. The robe looked elegant and costly, something only nobles or disciples from great sects would wear.
Zixiao couldn't understand why Mu Feng would go so far for him. The clothes, the bed, the food—it was more kindness than he had ever known.
He glanced down at his new robes, the fabric brushing softly against his scarred hands, and a strange warmth rose in his chest.
The dirt road stretched ahead of them, lined with patches of tender green plants and small wildflowers swaying in the breeze. The air was fresh, and for the first time in his life, Zixiao walked without fear—just the sound of rustling leaves and Mu Feng's steady footsteps beside him.
Soon, Zixiao saw a massive black stone wall rise before them, its wide gates standing open as if inviting them in. Vines and small plants crept along the cracks of the wall, nature slowly reclaiming its space. Soldiers in dark uniforms stood at attention beneath the archway, their expressions serious and disciplined.
Above the wall, a long hall of dark brown-red wood stretched along the top, its dark blue clay roof supported by ten carved pillars, each adorned with coiled dragon statues. More soldiers patrolled the hall, their spears glinting faintly in the diffused light.
At the center of the black stone wall was a large, bright brown gate painted with intricate golden dragon patterns. Above it hung a wooden plaque, the characters carved boldly into the wood:
"The Starry Sky River Forest."
The dirt road leading to the gate had turned to mud from the recent rains. Large wooden wagons with canvas covers creaked as they moved back and forth, pulled by strong horses, but strangely, only a handful of people were in the area, giving the place an almost eerily quiet atmosphere despite its size.
Zixiao felt a shiver run down his spine. The scale of the gate, the careful arrangement of guards, and the solemn presence of the hall above all gave him the unmistakable sense that this place was not ordinary.
As Zixiao drew closer to the entrance, his eyes were drawn to the massive cages scattered at the corners of the area. Inside them were various animals and beasts, some small and timid, others large and imposing, all confined by thick iron bars.
To his right, a jade-white horse caught his attention. Its wings, once radiant with rainbow-colored feathers, hung limp at its sides. The creature's body was covered in deep wounds, bright red blood staining its pristine fur. It struggled weakly against heavy chains, each breath ragged and pained.
Zixiao's heart clenched. He stepped closer, drawn inexplicably to the creature. He looked into its eyes—and froze.
Somehow, he could feel it. The horse's pain, its despair, its desperate desire to be free… it all coursed through him as if it were his own. A strange resonance thrummed in his chest, connecting them, linking their souls in a way he could not understand.
For a moment, time seemed to stop. Zixiao and the beast shared a single, silent understanding: both trapped, both wounded, both yearning for freedom.
Zixiao didn't notice it at first, but as he felt the beast's pain, a bright dark purple crescent moon-shaped symbol flashed briefly on his forehead before vanishing as quickly as it appeared.
He staggered, nearly losing his balance, his legs trembling as if the world had shifted beneath him.
From behind, Mu Feng's hands shot out, steadying him. "Woah there, hero! Stay on your feet," Mu Feng said, his voice calm but firm, keeping Zixiao from falling.
Zixiao's breathing was heavy, his mind still reeling from the strange symbol and the overwhelming emotions he had just felt.
Mu Feng sighed softly, his eyes drifting toward the caged horse. "Poor buddy… seems like it got caught by hunters. But… that's the way of the universe, I suppose. What can you do?"
Though his tone was tinged with sadness, it carried a subtle lesson: the world could be cruel, but one must survive, observe, and learn.