Morning sun wasn't that noticeable—not at first.
It hid behind a veil of pale gold mist, as though shy to rise after yesterday's chaos.
But its warmth seeped through gently, threading between the branches, softening the edges of the world until everything looked… better.
The place was brighter—clearer.
The river glimmered as though polished during the night. Leaves sparkled with dew. The air tasted new, like a page that had just been turned. Even the stones looked scrubbed clean by dawn.
The firewood from last night had finally dried.
Yet thin trails of smoke still curled upward from the dying embers, dancing lazily before dissolving into the early light. It smelled faintly of cedar and burnt moss—comforting, like a memory of warmth clinging to the air.
A deeper fragrance drifted through the clearing:
fresh herbal tea—steaming, fragrant, alive. Someone had boiled it with wild mint and blueleaf petals; the scent alone could clear a soul's fatigue.
Xing Yue was the first to wake.
Her lashes fluttered, catching tiny beads of dew. She lifted her head, pushing a stray strand of hair away, and blinked around the quiet camp.
Except for the River Sprite, nothing stirred.
The Sprite hovered like a drop of moonlight come to life—its translucent body reflecting hints of green, silver, and blue. It looked up from whatever morning ritual it was performing, smiled at her with a soft, knowing curve of its lips, then returned to arranging the floating wooden table it had conjured.
Next to stir was Rong Qi.
The ember inside him was still faint—like a coal deciding whether to live or die. As he rose, the glow beneath his feathers pulsed once, twice, adjusting to the new day.
And Jiang Yunxian?
…If a single feather had a full human body, it would still never manage the chaotic, indescribable expressions that passed across Yunxian's face as he slept.
Xing Yue leaned closer and tapped him gently.
"Wake up. We'll be late," she whispered.
Yunxian mumbled something that sounded like the language of a drunk deity, rolled over, and promptly went limp again—half face buried in his arm, half in the grass.
She tried again. And again.
Eventually, she sat back in defeat.
Rong Qi, still shaking fog out of his feather-brain, sighed with all the suffering of an ancient being forced to share existence with a chronic sleeper.
"As a Star God who claimed to have known him," Rong Qi said, "you should know it's impossible to wake him."
"I know," Xing Yue muttered, exasperated. "He sleeps like a stone dropped into the sea. Only one person I know could wake him up."
"And that person," Rong Qi said dryly, "never cared to teach you how?"
Xing Yue shook her head.
"They understood each other too well. He swore he'd never tell me his method."
"That's too much loyalty," Rong Qi huffed.
Xing Yue nodded with a slow, exhausted acceptance.
Silence settled between them—soft, peaceful. Even the river slowed its song, as though listening.
Then the River Sprite drifted toward them, gesturing with delicate hands to the floating emerald-green table nearby. There were small chairs made of water-crystal, shimmering lightly as if woven with enchantments. On the table, steam rose from bowls of fruit, roasted roots, and morning grains prepared with care.
Xing Yue smiled warmly.
Rong Qi bowed, feathers dipping low.
"Do you have wine?" he asked. "Any kind. Doesn't matter."
The Sprite blinked, thoughtful. It pressed a finger to its chin, eyes narrowing in deep contemplation as though Rong Qi had asked for something sacred. After a moment, a tiny smile spread across its face. It vanished—literally vanished—leaving only a ripple in the air. Then, the River Sprite left.
Several minutes passed.
Birds began their morning choir.
Sunlight brightened.
And then the Sprite returned, arms wrapped around two emerald-green gourds, glowing faintly like they were filled with liquid spring.
Xing Yue accepted them with a gentle smile.
The Sprite beamed, then drifted away to let them be.
"Now what?" Xing Yue asked.
Rong Qi fluttered up.
"Now," he announced grandly, "we wake the dead man."
Yunxian lay in the most humiliating position possible:
legs spread carelessly, one arm flung outward, the other loosely hugging a rock as though mistaking it for a pillow.
His mouth hung wide open—and yes, there was drool.
A proper trail.
If they had slept in the forest, insects would have colonized his mouth.
Too bad for Rong Qi—and too good for Xing Yue.
Rong Qi sighed dramatically, then spoke gently, almost sweetly:
"Dead head, are you going to wake up? If not, I suppose this wine will be wasted…"
He lifted the first gourd with his power.
"This might as well go back to the Sprite. I brought two for you, but I guess they won't be needed."
There was a heartbeat of silence.
Then—
Jiang Yunxian exploded upward from sleep, hair wild, eyes wide.
"DON'T YOU DARE THROW THAT AWAY!" he barked.
Xing Yue's eyes went round.
Then bright with amusement.
"This is… quite peculiar," she said, trying not to laugh.
Realizing he'd been tricked, Yunxian fell silent—mortified.
He didn't mind shame normally; his sect had long crowned him Shameless.
But being exposed in front of a beautiful woman?
That was another matter entirely.
He cleared his throat, trying and failing to look dignified.
"Ahem. Anyway, you shouldn't waste good wine. Especially not good wine."
"Yeah, yeah." Rong Qi rolled his feathers. "Let's eat. Your dirty laundry has been exposed. A peerless beauty saw everything. Now suffer. We've got to reach the Beast Clan, so hurry."
"What about the Sprite?" Xing Yue suddenly asked, concern softening her eyes.
"They're everywhere," Rong Qi explained. "But they're lonely creatures. If you want them to follow you, you must ask. They prefer their rivers, their homes…"
"It's a discussion for after breakfast," Jiang Yunxian decided. His stomach growled in agreement.
They approached the table.
Sunlight filtered through the trees, scattering a thousand glittering patterns across the river. The emerald table gleamed like jade carved by a god's hand. Dishes were simple but fragrant—warm grains, roasted wild yam, crisp mountain berries, and tea that smelled like morning wind.
They thanked the Sprite quietly.
The forest breathed around them.
The river murmured.
And morning unfolded—gentle, slow, beautiful.
A rare peace before the path ahead.
---
Breakfast ended in a quiet blend of warmth and soft laughter.
When they finally stood, the River Sprite circled them once—almost like a farewell blessing. Its small form shimmered with dew-bright light, then it dipped, bowing to Xing Yue with deep affection before dissolving back into the river as though it had never existed.
The world felt gentler after that.
Mist began lifting from the trees, revealing a long mountain trail woven with sunbeams and drifting petals. The path ahead curved along the river, following its glittering ribbon through the forest.
Xing Yue tightened the straps of her satchel.
Rong Qi tucked himself neatly at Jiang Yunxian's lapel, the faint ember of his phoenix essence glowing like a warm heartbeat.
Jiang Yunxian adjusted his wine gourd lazily, as if he were preparing for a stroll rather than a dangerous quest.
The three set off.
The forest was quiet in a holy way—like a temple that had grown from living roots. Shafts of sunlight pierced the canopy in long, golden spears. Small spirit-wisps drifted like floating lanterns, curious but cautious, their glow gently pulsing as they followed the trio for a few breaths before disappearing behind leaves.
Jiang Yunxian walked slightly ahead, hands folded behind his head, expression far too relaxed for someone with all the care for his feather companio.
Xing Yue studied him quietly.
He was humming—off key—and occasionally swaying his arms as if each breeze carried him along.
No trace of the man Xing Yue once was.
No shadow of what others think he might be , he didn't care, and he doesn't want to care either.
Only this wandering, clueless man who somehow managed to look arrogant even in complete ignorance.
Rong Qi exhaled from Jiang Yunxian's lapel.
"You see how carefree he is? If he remembered everything, he'd never walk like that." he's whispered as if that alone could make him deaf from that action.
Xing Yue smiled faintly. "He truly doesn't remember anything."
"Of course not. If he did, he wouldn't be whistling like a drunk crane."
Yunxian turned slightly.
"I heard that."
"Good," Rong Qi retorted. "I was hoping you would."
They continued.
The air grew livelier as they approached the deeper forest.
Butterfly spirits drifted in lazy arcs—wings like stained glass, scattering tiny sparks each time they fluttered.
Trees grew thicker, roots weaving patterns on the ground like ancient calligraphy.
Here and there, glowing fruit hung from branches—peach-colored, pear-shaped, orbs that whispered faint songs when the wind touched them.
Xing Yue paused beneath one tree.
The fruits chimed like bells, releasing a soft glow that brushed her cheek.
"These only grow near Beast Clan borders," she said softly.
Rong Qi hummed. "So we're close."
Yunxian tilted his head, genuinely confused. "Close to what?"
"To the Beast Clan," Xing Yue answered, "and possibly… your forgotten friends."
He blinked. Then shrugged.
"If they're forgotten, they can stay forgotten."
Xing Yue's gaze softened—not pity, but quiet ache.
He really didn't know.
Their path eventually widened into a narrow bridge of white stone arching over the river.
The water below glowed faintly—threads of silver and pale gold drifting within it like veins of light. Fish swam in slow circles, leaving ripples of aura behind them.
Halfway across the bridge, a soft thrum of energy passed through the air.
Xing Yue stopped.
Rong Qi stiffened.
Even Yunxian paused, eyes narrowing slightly as if sensing a faint tug in the world.
A moment later, the feeling faded—gentle, harmless.
Not a threat.
More like… a greeting.
A presence watching from the trees, curious but unhostile.
As they stepped off the bridge, a cluster of jade-blue blossoms suddenly bloomed along the path, opening with a soft pop. Their scent was floral and sweet, drifting gently toward them.
Xing Yue blinked.
"These flowers don't bloom for humans."
"Maybe it likes my looks," Yunxian said confidently.
"No," Rong Qi corrected flatly. "It likes Xing Yue. Not you. Obviously."
Xing Yue didn't deny it.
In the distance, mountains rose like ancient guardians—tall, powerful, shrouded in drifting white clouds. This was the land nearing the Beast Empire, ruled by the ancient tribes and clans of transformed spirits.
A soft breeze carried the faint sound of drums.
Slow. Rhythmic.
Like a heartbeat echoing across the valley.
"They're holding a gathering." Xing Yue said quietly.
"That's good," Rong Qi said. "When the Beast Clan gathers, they're usually in a good mood."
"And when they're not gathering?" Yunxian asked.
"Then someone's angry enough to declare war," Rong Qi answered casually.
Yunxian blinked. "…Oh."
They continued down the descending trail, passing through tall pale trees whose leaves shivered with silver at the edges. Spirit foxes peeked from under their roots—small, cloud-like creatures with glowing eyes—but darted away the moment Yue tried to approach.
The nearer they got, the more life awakened around them.
Shimmering feathers drifted on the wind.
Strange shadows moved between branches.
And the air buzzed—alive with spiritual energy.
Finally, they reached a clearing.
A thin white mist filtered between the trees, swirling around their ankles like a living veil.
Rong Qi whispered,
"We've stepped into Beast Territory."
Xing Yue felt her pulse quicken.
Jiang Yunxian, despite his memory loss, straightened slightly—as if something deep within him recognized the shift.
No host greeted them.
No guardians attacked.
But the forest… watched.
Soft eyes.
Hidden shapes.
A quiet, watchful presence.
The journey had only begun to change.
____
They stopped at the edge of the mist-filled clearing.
Silence deepened—soft, reverent, expectant.
Something in the air shifted, like the faint stirring before dawn. The mist curled upward, as though inhaled by an unseen breath, revealing the shadow of a figure standing among the pale trees.
At first, it looked like a drifting shimmer of moonlight.
Then, slowly—very slowly—the form solidified.
A young woman stepped forward.
Her hair fell in long, rippling waves the color of white gold, glowing faintly with every movement. Her eyes were luminous amber, slit-pupiled like a great cat's, but softened with intelligence and warmth. A mantle of pale fur draped her shoulders, blending into the flow of her robe—woven from threads of moonlight, shifting like water.
But what truly gave her away was the faint imprint behind her:
A large, celestial beast-shape flickering like a mirage—
the silhouette of a snow leopard spirit, tail curling in lazy arcs.
Xing Yue inhaled softly.
"A Moon-Summoned Snow Leopard…" she whispered.
Rong Qi stiffened.
"That's a sacred bloodline," he murmured. "They don't appear unless they choose to."
Jiang Yunxian blinked as if he'd just noticed a very shiny object.
The woman stopped a few steps away, her presence serene, but powerful enough to bend the grass gently around her feet.
When she spoke, her voice was soft—like snow falling on stone.
"You may call me Lianhua. Guide of the Eastern Trail. Watcher of the Beast Borders."
She observed each of them one by one.
Her gaze lingered on Xing Yue with a soft nod of respect.
Passed over Rong Qi with the faintest lift of a brow—phoenix essence could not hide from a beast of ancient lineage.
But when her eyes reached Jiang Yunxian…
She paused.
Her amber pupils narrowed, a flicker of recognition—or confusion—passing through them.
Yunxian stood there, arms folded, completely unaware of the way the world seemed to tilt for half a breath.
Lianhua lowered her head slightly.
Her voice softened even further, almost reverent but tinged with uncertainty.
"You carry a… forgotten star," she murmured. "A presence ancient, but sealed."
Xing Yue's heartbeat stuttered.
Rong Qi held his feathered breath.
Jiang Yunxian scratched his cheek.
"You mean my face looks tired? Yeah, I didn't sleep well."
Rong Qi slapped himself against Jiang Yunxian's collar.
"Oh heavens."
A tiny, amused curve appeared on Lianhua's lips.
"I see the stories of old were right," she whispered, "—ignorant of power, yet walking straight into destiny."
Before anyone could question her further, Lianhua lifted her hand.
The mist parted, rolling like curtains.
A narrow path appeared—lined with luminous flowers and dappled with drifting specks of light.
"The Beast Clan has sensed your arrival," she said.
"And they have sent me to guide you.
Follow closely… strangers of the waking realms."
As she turned, her form shimmered—and for a heartbeat, a giant snow leopard with starlit fur walked where she had stood, before the figure softened back into her humanoid shape.
Jiang Yunxian blinked.
"Did… did she just turn into a big cat?"
Xing Yue sighed.
"That is her true form."
"Oh."
Yunxian paused.
"…Can she turn into a smaller cat?"
Rong Qi groaned loudly.
Lianhua chuckled under her breath—light, melodic, amused—but she did not answer. Instead, she began walking with steps soft enough not to disturb even sleeping dew.
"Come," she said, her voice echoing like distant snow-chimes.
"The Beast Emperor is expecting you."
And so, beneath drifting blossoms and rising light, they followed the sacred beast deeper into the ancient realm—unaware that with every step, old truths stirred and forgotten fates began to awaken.