The very instant the celestial stone was carefully carried into the depths of the Fuxi Sanctuary and placed securely upon its pedestal—
A sudden change erupted!
Crack…
A faint, almost imperceptible sound of shattering echoed through the still air of the sacred chamber.
The meteorite's rough, charred, and uneven black surface—like rock seared by heavenly fire and weathered by eons—began to peel away without warning. Layer by layer, it flaked off, sliding down and crumbling into a pile of dull black dust that scattered around the jade pedestal.
When the dark shell completely fell away, what emerged beneath left both men utterly speechless—
It was a massive, flawless, crystal-clear piece of jade, so pure and radiant it seemed not of this mortal world.
The jade glowed faintly with a gentle, flowing light, as though life itself coursed within it. Its radiance was subdued, yet carried an indescribable sense of divine mystery.
But what made the sight truly unbelievable—so shocking that it nearly defied comprehension—was this:
Through the semi-translucent jade, as lustrous as top-grade ice jadeite, one could clearly see—
At its very core lay a small, naked infant, curled up and sound asleep!
It was a boy.
His skin was tender and rosy; his eyes were closed tight. Tiny fists rested upon his chest, his expression serene—as if he had slumbered there since time immemorial.
Feng Yu and Feng Yang—two men whose combined lifespans exceeded a century, whose hearts had long grown calm from witnessing countless wonders and horrors alike—were frozen stiff where they stood.
Their eyes widened, pupils contracting sharply, fixed upon the impossible sight before them. Shock, bewilderment, disbelief, and even a faint trace of absurdity mingled on their faces.
Feng Yu's gaze instinctively—almost involuntarily—fell upon the strange jade encasing the mysterious infant.
The jade's surface was not smooth.
Upon closer inspection, they found that it bore countless intricate and profound markings—lines and sigils that seemed either naturally formed or burned directly into it by some unfathomable power.
These ancient lines flowed with a sense of rhythm and balance, exuding the aura of the Dao itself, as though they contained truths of heaven and earth long since lost to history. Just a glance made one's mind swim, spirit tremble, and thoughts blur.
Feng Yu furrowed his brows deeply, sinking into contemplation.
These symbols… these runes… why do they feel so familiar?
It was as if he had glimpsed them once, in some long-forgotten dream—Or perhaps within the torn, half-vanished pages of some primordial record lost to time…
"Senior brother!"
Feng Yang's voice—trembling and urgent—snapped him from his thoughts.
After the initial shock, an overwhelming curiosity had begun to take hold of him. Guided by instinct, or perhaps by something stirring deep within his bloodline, Feng Yang extended a hand—aged and wrinkled by years, yet still steady—and cautiously touched the surface of the glowing jade.
It was cool to the touch, yet carried a strange, subtle warmth beneath the chill.
But the moment his fingertip made contact—
A jolt like a bolt of lightning shot through him!
His whole body shuddered violently. He withdrew his hand as if scalded, face flushing red from shock and excitement. Turning toward Feng Yu, he stammered, his voice trembling with disbelief:
"Senior brother! He's alive!!"
"This child—he still has a heartbeat!"
Feng Yu's thin frame jolted as though struck by thunder. He instantly cast aside all hesitation, pressing his broad palm against the jade's surface.
Closing his eyes, he steadied his breathing, clearing his mind completely. Then, with the gentlest touch, he released the purest stream of Fuxi True Essence he had cultivated over two centuries—threading it slowly, cautiously, into the jade's depths.
Before long—
He felt it.
A faint, almost imperceptible pulse of life, as weak as a flickering candle in the wind—Yet steady, persistent, and filled with an indescribable tenacity.
Thump… thump-thump… thump…
The heartbeat of the infant echoed softly—like smooth river pebbles being tapped by the thawing spring stream. Quiet, delicate, but brimming with life and spirit.
The baby sealed within the jade—was truly alive!
Feng Yang tried to calm the thunderous beating in his own chest. Watching his elder brother, who still had his hand upon the jade, face solemn and intent, he couldn't help but ask in a voice laced with tension and expectation:
"Senior brother, this… this child—what should we do now?"
Feng Yu slowly opened his eyes. In those ancient, deep-set pupils—eyes that had witnessed two centuries of rise and fall—flickered a light unlike any before. Complex. Struggling.
He stood in silence for a long time, his gaze lingering on the sleeping face within the jade.
Then, as if resolving an immense inner conflict, he finally looked toward the world beyond the Sanctuary—the vast, unpredictable mortal realm.
His voice was low, calm, yet filled with unwavering resolve.
"Go."
"Leave this place."
"Take the child with us."
Feng Yang froze, momentarily taken aback. He hadn't expected his brother to make such a decisive—and perilous—choice.
But his trust in Feng Yu was absolute. Without question, he nodded firmly.
"Alright! I'll follow your lead, Senior Brother!"
There were no lengthy farewells. No announcements to the others within the Sanctuary.
After leaving behind secret instructions through their clan's hidden methods, Feng Yu and Feng Yang—the twin pillars of the Fuxi lineage, guardians of the nation's destiny—quietly departed.
Carrying the mysterious jade that held within it the sleeping infant, they vanished like wisps of smoke into the horizon.
From that day onward, no one knew where they went.
No record remained of their path, nor where they chose to hide.
Only within the highest, most classified archives of the Chinese state—buried under layers of top-secret clearance—did a few vague, incomplete notes remain.
They merely hinted that these two figures, whose power could sway the very fate of the nation, were still alive somewhere in the world.