For several days, the children remained within Skyveil City, housed not in the clamorous Outer City but in a quiet compound reserved for new arrivals. Modest by Astralis's standards, it still felt like a sanctuary: white walls traced with runes, courtyards shaded by spirit trees, and fountains trickling with water that gleamed faintly with qi.
To Su Mei and her kin, it was another life. The elders who had endured the long journey sat in shaded alcoves, their war-worn faces easing at last. The constant fear of pursuit, the gnawing hunger of the lower realms, the dread of exhaustion—all seemed to melt away. For the first time in years, they breathed without vigilance.
Meals were simple but abundant: rice steamed with herbs, fish infused with qi-rich spices, fruits that glowed faintly under lamplight. Even the water seemed alive, filling the chest with strength. At night, Su Mei no longer listened for assassins in the dark but to the chirp of spirit-crickets and the laughter of her son as he played in the courtyard with the other children.
And yet, amid this peace, shadows lingered in her heart. She knew what was coming. The clan's sanctuary—the Holy Mountain—was not only an opportunity. It was a separation.
On the second morning, a steward of the Ye arrived. He was lean, his silver-threaded hair bound neatly, his robe bearing the faint crest of a vertical eye. His bearing was calm, the kind worn by one long used to command.
"By decree of the Matriarch," he said, "your kin shall not be cast adrift. A residence will be prepared for you within the Inner City. There, you may cultivate in peace, supported by stipends and shielded by the Ye's wards."
The words struck Su Mei like sunlight through
storm-clouds. Her knees weakened, and she bowed deeply, her voice trembling.
"This grace… neither I nor my descendants could ever repay."
The steward's expression softened. "It is not grace, madam. It is lineage. What flows in your son's veins belongs to Astralis—and Astralis does not forsake its own."
His gaze lingered on Liangfeng, who stood silent, dark eyes steady. For the briefest moment, the steward inclined his head, as though in recognition of something unseen, before departing.
The day of departure came swiftly. At dawn, pale light touched the terraces of Skyveil. Beneath the shade of an ancient cedar, the three children—Ye Liangfeng, Ye Chenrui, and Ye Qingxian—gathered with their guardians. Each carried only a spare robe, a token from home, and eyes bright with wonder and unease.
Words weighed heavy in the air.
Su Mei knelt before Liangfeng, smoothing his robe again and again. Her smile was brave, though her eyes shimmered. "Remember, Liangfeng. Wherever you walk, you carry your father's will and my prayers. Do not forget who you are."
Liangfeng's small hand closed around hers, firm. His voice was steady. "I'll make you proud, Mother. And I'll protect you, once I am strong enough."
Her lips trembled as she pressed a kiss to his brow. "You already have."
Nearby, Chenrui's father crouched, armor clinking faintly. His tone was stern, but his hands shook as they gripped his son's shoulders. "Do not shame our branch. In Astralis, your blood is both weapon and shield. Honor it."
Chenrui swallowed hard, then nodded quickly. "I will, Father."
Qingxian's mother, veiled in pale green silk, tucked a talisman into her daughter's sleeve. Her voice was gentle. "This will guard you if the nights grow too long. Remember—frost and moonlight endure, even in the darkest sky."
Qingxian clutched the talisman with trembling hands, nodding earnestly.
Around them, even hardened elders lowered their gazes, unwilling to let the children see their tears.
When the hour struck, the courtyard stilled. A single man entered, his presence silencing the air. He was tall, robed in indigo embroidered with golden thread shaped into the crest of the Eye. His hair shimmered faintly with qi, his face calm. Yet his presence pressed down like a mountain, vast but restrained.
"I am Elder Ye Xuanyan," he said, his voice quiet but carrying to every corner. "From this moment, they are under my charge."
His gaze swept across the families, pausing on Su Mei. "Rest assured—they will be cared for. What lies ahead is not trial alone, but the first step toward awakening."
No one dared speak further. Parents bowed deeply. Children clutched their tokens, trembling between fear and hope.
Xuanyan led them through the Inner City, past silent terraces until they reached a secluded plaza. At its center stood a stone dais etched with constellations. When Xuanyan raised his hand, the carvings blazed to life. Golden lines rose like serpents, weaving into a gate of light. Scents of pine resin, rain, and mountain air flowed through.
"This," Xuanyan said, "is the Eye of Truth Formation. Beyond lies the clan's true heart—the pocket world of Astralis, where the Holy Mountain rises. Only the Ye may pass within. Here your blood shall be tested, and here your eyes shall open."
The children stared, wide-eyed. Liangfeng moved first, his dark eyes reflecting the golden door. Chenrui clenched his fists, swallowing hard. Qingxian smiled faintly, as if the light itself soothed her.
Without further word, they stepped through together.
Light swallowed them whole. For a heartbeat, there was only brilliance. Then, with a rush like falling water, they emerged. They stood beneath a vast sky where constellations gleamed brighter than in the world outside. Rivers of silver qi flowed across valleys. Mountains towered, veiled in shimmering mists that glowed with runes. Jewel-feathered birds glided, scattering sparks of starlight with their wings.
Even to children, it felt alive. The air was thick and sweet, every breath filling their bodies with strength.
Chenrui gasped, pointing skyward. "The stars are shining even in day!"
Qingxian clapped her hands. "The birds! They glitter!"
Liangfeng said nothing. His gaze swept across mountains and rivers, his small fists curling as though trying to catch the rhythm of this living world.
Xuanyan's voice carried. "This is the Holy Mountain—the heart of our inheritance. Few outside our bloodline have ever seen it. Here, within the Bloodline Vein, your eyes will awaken. Remember—sanctuary and trial are one."
A jade path unrolled before them, leading to a palace of pale crystal carved in the shape of an unblinking eye. Murals of ancestors with blazing eyes lined its walls.
At the center waited a man in silver robes embroidered with countless tiny eyes. His beard was long, his bearing calm as stone.
"Elder Yunhai," Xuanyan said with a bow. "Guardian of the Holy Mountain."
Yunhai's jade-clear eyes lingered on each child before he nodded faintly. "From this day, you are not only children of your mothers. You are Ye. Kin to each other, bearers of our flame. Hold that with pride, and with weight. For the awakening binds more than blood—it binds fate."
Chenrui puffed out his chest, misunderstanding but pleased. Qingxian whispered to Liangfeng, "Does this mean we're important now?"
Liangfeng blinked, his hands folded calmly. He did not answer.
The elders gestured, and the children were shown to their residence—three white-stone houses clustered around a glowing spring. Spirit fish darted through its waters, scattering silver droplets that lingered in the air like stars.
Chenrui shouted, "There's fish in the pond!" Qingxian laughed, chasing after him.
Liangfeng lingered, his small hand brushing the badge on his chest. His gaze rested on the spring, the sky, and the two children darting ahead. For the first time since leaving home, his lips curved in the faintest smile. The Holy Mountain had accepted them. And their bond had begun.