They traveled deeper into the living heart of the Beast Realm.
The forest no longer felt like a forest—it felt like a kingdom carved from nature's oldest breaths. Towering trees hundreds of meters high rose like pillars of jade and starlight, their trunks marked by glowing runes that hummed gently whenever Lianhua passed. Leaves the size of shields rustled overhead, creating a moving mosaic of gold and green shadows on the ground.
Spirit beasts appeared one after another as they walked.
A troop of cloud-footed monkeys scampered across the branches above them, tails swaying like ribbons. Their fur glimmered silver under the sun, and they paused often—eyes wide, curious, holding fruits bigger than their heads.
Giant moths drifted past like floating silks, wings patterned with constellations that blinked lazily.
Butterflies glittering like fragmented gemstones crowded near flowers taller than Xing Yue, drinking nectar that glowed like moonlit honey.
Jiang Yunxian, predictably, was mesmerized.
His steps slowed, eyes wide and sparkling like a child in his first marketplace. His head swiveled left, right, upward—so quickly that even Rong Qi began to wobble dangerously.
He whispered, tone filled with amazement,
"People turn into animals here…"
Lianhua glanced back—still in her snow leopard form—and offered a soft smile as her tail swept lightly across the ground.
"In the Beast Realm, every form is the true form. We are born twice—once as beasts, once as spirits."
Yunxian opened his mouth to reply—only to trip over a root thick as his arm.
Rong Qi shrieked and flapped madly as he nearly fell out of the man's lapel.
Xing Yue caught him with practiced reflexes, scooping the flickering feather into her hands before he hit the mossy ground.
"What were you thinking?" she scolded gently, cradling the glowing feather like a fragile ember.
Jiang Yunxian straightened, brushing imaginary dust off his sleeves, pretending nothing had happened.
He chuckled—far too shamelessly for someone who nearly crushed a sacred phoenix feather.
"Your clan is too captivating. I was merely admiring the view. How can one not be enchanted, ah?"
He tried to maintain the air of composure, but his cheeks betrayed him—flushed an adorable shade of rose.
Xing Yue's brows twitched.
Rong Qi groaned.
Lianhua's tail flicked, amused.
"Admiration is one thing," Lianhua replied, voice calm and melodic. "But do not stare too deeply. Some beasts dislike being watched… and some will eat anyone who seems too fascinated."
"Oh," Yunxian said thoughtfully.
Then added, "If I die with a cup of wine, I'll die a happy death. But I do have a request."
Lianhua raised a brow.
"And that is?"
He grinned.
"You'd be much cuter as a kitten. A small one. Something like—this big."
He held out his hands in a ridiculous little oval shape.
Rong Qi visibly trembled.
Xing Yue covered her face.
The wind sighed through the trees as Lianhua stopped walking.
For a moment, the great snow leopard spirit simply stood there—silent, tail still.
Then the corner of her mouth twitched upward.
"Wine lovers are strange creatures," she murmured.
Rong Qi gasped dramatically.
"That's the understatement of the century."
Xing Yue's shoulders shook with barely controlled laughter.
As they continued, the trees began to thin—not from sparsity, but because something immense rose ahead of them.
The Heavenroot Arbor.
The ancient tree towered beyond sight, so large that clouds wreathed its middle branches and birds nested within hollows big enough to fit an entire sect hall. The air around it shimmered with power—wind swirling upward in spirals of emerald and silver, drawn into its colossal form.
Suspended among its branches was a palace made of living wood and dragon-scale tiles—every scale emitting a faint blue glow.
The Azure-Scaled Court.
The home of Beast Emperor Long Junlan, the Dragon of the Eastern Veins, the ruler of the Beast Realm.
Bridges of woven roots extended from the forest to the palace like elegant arms, illuminated by drifting lights that resembled tiny fireflies.
Lianhua slowed her steps and bowed her head slightly, reverence softening her every movement.
"Our Emperor awaits in the Scarlet Chamber," she said.
Jiang Yunxian stared upwards, eyes widening at each new detail—the spiraling tree roots, the floating scale-lanterns, the distant roar of a dragon echoing like thunder through the sky.
Xing Yue inhaled deeply, awe settling in her bones.
Rong Qi whispered, almost reverently,
"Long Junlan… he hasn't shown himself in centuries."
And yet—
Today,
for reasons none had yet spoken aloud,
the Dragon Emperor summoned them.
Though they came for a different purpose. Still, the Dragon Emperor of the Beast Realm, has been waiting for them. Summoned them. For what reason?
The leaves rustled violently, as though stirred by a great breath above.
A low, ancient rumble vibrated through the earth beneath their feet—
not threatening,
but unmistakable.
The Emperor had awakened.
And Xing Yue knew that this, isn't just a summon, but something deeper. For a beast with such immerse power, who has been in seclusion, something was amiss.
And Xing Yue knew better to believe it was just a 'welcome' invitation.
---
The moment they stepped into the Scarlet Chamber, the air shifted.
The chamber was vast—far vaster than its carved crimson doors had implied. Pillars of polished vermilion stone spiraled upward like coiling dragons, vanishing into a ceiling laden with floating lanterns shaped like drifting lotus petals. Each petal glowed with a soft ember-light, illuminating the chamber in shades of red and gold.
Scents of sandalwood and some ancient beastly aura mingled, making the air feel heavier, warmer—almost alive.
Lianhua bowed her feline head respectfully.
"His Majesty awaits. I will take my leave."
She padded away lightly, her snowy form dissolving into the shadows between the pillars.
Left alone, the trio stepped forward. The floor beneath them was a polished mirror of ruby crystal, each footstep echoing like distant heartbeats.
And at the far end of the hall, upon a throne carved from a single colossal dragon's scale, sat the Beast Emperor—Long Junlan.
The man—if he could be called a mere man—was ancient, towering even while seated. His robe shimmered with overlapping patterns of scales, each one shifting subtly in hue. His eyes held the depth of ancient oceans, and his presence pressed against the skin like a silent thunderstorm.
But it was his beard that stole Jiang Yunxian's entire attention immediately.
White. Impossibly white.
Long. Ridiculously long.
Straight—straight in a way that seemed physically impossible, as if every strand had undergone spiritual enlightenment and aligned with cosmic law.
Jiang Yunxian blinked.
Then blinked again.
His brain, stripped of its memories, latched on to the only logical conclusion:
This man's beard could easily be worn as a wig.
"It's… so straight," Jiang Yunxian whispered before he could stop himself.
Long Junlan stroked the magnificent thing with pride, completely unaware of the incoming catastrophe.
"Welcome," the emperor said, voice rumbling like a war drum softened by age. "I've been waiting."
Xing Yue immediately bowed low, one knee touching the gleaming floor.
"It has been long, Beast Emperor."
Rong Qi, trembling and pale in Jiang Yunxian's sleeve, gave a weak bow of his entire feathered body. Even his light seemed to dim.
And Jiang Yunxian?
That amnesiac brat—
Laughed.
Not a discreet chuckle.
Not a polite "oh-ho-ho, what a majestic hall."
But a full-bodied, shoulders-shaking, eyes-watering, utterly inappropriate burst of laughter.
Xing Yue froze mid-bow.
Rong Qi's dullness worsened; his feather wilted.
Even the lantern-petals overhead flickered as if the chamber itself was offended.
Long Junlan's eyes narrowed—not angrily but with a slow, ancient curiosity, like a dragon examining a very small, very foolish creature.
And Jiang Yunxian laughed harder.
His laughter echoed off the ruby walls, bounced between the pillars, drifted upward toward the glowing petals like a bell rung in the wrong temple.
He didn't stop until even he realized— painfully —that no one else found it funny.
His laughter dragged into a slow exhale.
He cleared his throat, coughed twice, straightened his robe, and lowered his gaze in fake shame.
Was he the only one who found it funny?
Absolutely.
Irrefutably.
Catastrophically yes.
"My apologies," he muttered, though the twitching corners of his lips betrayed him.
Long Junlan tapped his fingers on the throne's scale-armrest.
"Care to tell me what was so amusing?"
"Oh—don't mind this shameless one," Jiang Yunxian said quickly, waving his hand with the confidence of someone who should absolutely not be confident. "My thoughts aren't worth the time."
Xing Yue's head snapped toward him so fast her braid flew.
Rong Qi produced the weakest gasp in bird history.
He DID NOT just say that!
Both of them stared at Jiang Yunxian—horror dawning as they remembered.
Only he had forgotten everything.
Which meant—
Did he think this emperor was just some old man with a prideful beard?
Long Junlan leaned forward slightly, amused.
"No, no. I do not mind. Speak freely. You may not know this, but I value honesty more than power."
Jiang Yunxian lit up.
"Well, that's convenient. I'm known for being too honest—it can hurt, actually. Hope you don't mind?"
The emperor shook his head, beard swaying like a celestial waterfall.
"I do not."
Jiang Yunxian inhaled deeply.
Xing Yue prayed silently, Please don't say it, please don't say it, please—
Rong Qi went limp as a dying leaf, accepting his fate.
And Jiang Yunxian…
Opened his mouth.
___
Rong Qi felt his tiny feather-body tremble—not from wind, not from weakness, but from the haunting certainty of what was about to unfold.
Oh, that emperor was about to be cooked alive.
Charred. Torched. Roasted like mid-autumn festival duck.
Because even without memories…
Jiang Yunxian was still Jiang Yunxian.
And Cloud Peak Sect had a simple rule carved into every disciple's heart:
If you want the truth, ask Jiang Yunxian. If you want to survive, don't.
The little feather spirit peeked up at the oblivious man standing proudly before the Beast Emperor. Rong Qi felt his soul compress. He could already imagine the outcome—and none of them involved peace offerings.
If there was one thing Jiang Yunxian excelled at besides drinking and randomly offending people, it was being brutally honest in ways that pierced the soul, shredded the heart, and toppled egos like leaning bamboo.
Everyone back at Cloud Peak knew this.
Especially…
Luo Zhu and Peng Yang.
Rong Qi shuddered.
The most prominent cultivators of Cloud Peak.
The golden pair.
The pride of the sect.
Luo Zhu—silent as a moonlit sword, graceful, untouchable.
Peng Yang—loud as thunder, fierce, and straightforward.
But the one thing they shared?
Pride.
Pride that was heavier than their cultivation base.
Pride so sharp it cut everyone who came too close.
No disciple dared breathe wrong around them.
No one except—
A certain man who had no self-preservation instinct.
Rong Qi wished he had hands so he could cover his face in advance.
He remembered it clearly—painfully clearly.
There were three infamous groups Jiang Yunxian formed in Cloud Peak.
Three groups that struck fear in the hearts of elders and disciples alike.
Not because of quantity…
But because of the quality of their chaos.
Group One:
The Wine-Soaked Lunatics.
(Consisting of Jiang Yunxian and one other person.)
Group Two:
The Lazy Farmers.
(Just Lei, the man who retired from cultivation for a vegetable garden.)
Group Three:
The Tongue Assassins.
(A single woman named Fei, whose mouth could kill faster than a sword.)
Pei, Lei, and Fei.
Simple names.
Terrifying personalities.
And together with Jiang Yunxian…
They were known—feared—as the Four Black Sheep of Cloud Peak.
While Peng Yang and Luo Zhu shone like celestial stars…
These four were the shadows that tripped those stars whenever they felt like it.
Rong Qi remembered the day everything went downhill.
The day Peng Yang insulted one of the younger disciples.
The day Luo Zhu dismissed half the sect as "decorative weeds."
The day the four black sheep decided:
"Let's teach them humility."
It was so painfully funny that Rong Qi's soul had almost left his feather once.
And now…
Standing in the glowing scarlet hall of the Beast Emperor, with lanterns floating overhead and mystical heat radiating through the air…
Rong Qi knew the signs.
Jiang Yunxian's posture.
His innocent blinking.
His relaxed shoulders.
His overly confident breath.
Yes.
Yes, the Beast Emperor Long Junlan—ruler of the Scarlet Grove, celestial dragon of a thousand cycles—would soon experience the same fate as Cloud Peak's two proud prodigies.
"No…" Rong Qi whimpered in his mind. "He's going to do it. He's going to say it."
And the emperor waited.
Beard shimmering like holy silver silk.
Eyes ancient and curious.
Aura thick as molten gold.
Xing Yue stiffened, subtle spiritual pressure swirling around her as she prayed—for the emperor's pride or her sanity, even she didn't know anymore.
Jiang Yunxian lifted his head.
Smiled.
And Rong Qi, pale as the moon, whispered inwardly:
"Heaven save us."
Because Jiang Yunxian was about to open his mouth.
And once he did…
Not even a dragon emperor could remain unscathed.
___
"You can tell me. I'm quite curious," Emperor Long Junlan said, the tips of his impossibly long, shimmering beard swaying like pale threads of moonlight. His fingers stroked through it slowly, proudly—as if expecting praise.
Jiang Yunxian inhaled deeply, fighting back the next wave of laughter.
"Well," he began, voice already wobbling, "I'm laughing about your beard."
Xing Yue froze.
Rong Qi fainted.
Lianhua's tail bristled.
"…What about it?" the emperor asked mildly.
Jiang Yunxian cracked.
"I just—ah—" he pressed both hands to his lips, shoulders shaking. "I just think… if we braided it tightly enough, I swear it would be long enough to jump-rope with. And with how straight it is—Heavens—it looks like you iron it every morning with dragon fire."
Silence.
Complete silence.
Even the crimson lantern flames seemed to hold their breath.
Then—
PFFT!
The emperor barked out a laugh so sudden, so booming, that the entire Scarlet Chamber trembled. His laughter cracked through the air like joyful thunder, rich and rolling, echoing against the gem-polished stone walls. His beard quivered with each breath, making Jiang Yunxian bite down on his own knuckles to avoid cackling again—but failing miserably.
"Jump-rope!?" Long Junlan roared, clutching his stomach. "Ironed with dragon fire!? Boy, you dare! You truly dare!"
And that was all Jiang Yunxian needed.
He collapsed onto the nearest chair, howling. His laughter rang like bells thrown down a mountain path—wild, unrestrained, contagious.
Rong Qi revived on the spot only to groan. "He's done it. He's truly done it. Heaven spare him."
Even the floating scarlet candles trembled, flickering as if laughing along.
Lianhua cautiously lifted her head from behind Xing Yue's sleeve, staring in disbelief. "H-He liked it…?"Shr had just turned into a kitten and had somehow landedin Xing Yue's sleeves. Funny.
The Beast Emperor wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, still wheezing. "Boy! No one has dared comment on this beard for six thousand years! Six thousand!"
"Well…" Jiang Yunxian shrugged, grinning ear to ear, "maybe they were scared. But I'm not. And besides—" he pointed at the emperor's beard with utter shameless admiration—"it really IS magnificent. If you swished it hard enough, it could sweep an entire courtyard clean."
Long Junlan slapped his palm on the jade table, laughing even harder. "Ha! Court-sweeper beard! You are a savage, boy! A savage!"
Both men continued laughing, their merriment bouncing off the stone pillars and glowing crimson walls until it filled the whole chamber like rippling heat.
But Xing Yue—
Xing Yue stood rooted to the ground, a cold tremor running up her spine.
The scarlet lights reflecting in the Beast Emperor's eyes, the lingering scent of incense, the swirling dragon aura in the air—none of these eased her.
Because she understood something Jiang Yunxian did not:
Not even the ten sovereign realms dared mock the Beast Emperor.
His pride was ancient. His temper unpredictable. His authority—absolute among beasts.
And yet Jiang Yunxian…
That careless, rule-defying, improperly alive disciple…
Had just teased him like an old uncle over wine.
And the emperor loved it.
Xing Yue's fingers curled slightly, her heart thudding with a tight mixture of horror and admiration.
If he could be this disarmingly honest with Long Junlan…
If he could topple a dragon's dignity so casually…
Then what of the Heavenly Emperor?
The one ruler above all realms.
The one whose rebuke carried enough power to erase clans.
The one whose ego was said to be carved of jade and thunder.
Her breath stilled.
Circumstances—yes, circumstances always pushed them forward.
Circumstances had brought them to the beast realm.
Circumstances would one day drag them to the celestial palaces.
And circumstances—those unpredictable threads of fate—would no doubt place Jiang Yunxian face-to-face with the heavenly ruler himself.
And she knew.
She knew that this man—
This laughing, shameless, brutally honest star among mortals—
Would absolutely say something outrageous.
Something truthful.
Something stupid.
Something unforgettable.
The kind of truth that shakes a realm.
A knot of excitement fluttered in her stomach, warm and daring.
But beneath it, dread coiled like a shadow.
Because Jiang Yunxian did not know fear.
He did not know restraint.
He did not know when to hold back.
And that made him dangerous.
Dangerous enough to offend dragon emperors.
Dangerous enough to challenge Heaven's rules.
Dangerous enough to break fate itself.
Xing Yue's lips parted in a quiet exhale as the two men continued laughing like old comrades.
"Heaven help us…" she muttered under her breath.
But a spark, bright and reckless, lit in her eyes.
Because with Jiang Yunxian—
Heaven would have no choice but to get involved.