“No way, Master. She’s already tired,” Xian Chen said, turning to his master, his gaze almost pleading with her not to push Yu Bin any further. Yu Bin’s brows furrowed. He still didn’t trust her. That alone lit a spark of annoyance in her chest. “Oh? Let’s see, then. By the end of today, I’ll make you call me Master,” she said with a teasing grin. Bao Fang stepped in front of her in a blink, brushing a fallen strand of Yu Bin’s hair from her forehead. “Come. Show me what you’ve learned.” Without hesitation, Yu Bin raised her sword. Steel clashed with steel, ringing out like a song of challenge. Clank! Clank! Their blades met fiercely. It wasn’t a fight to the death—but it certainly felt like one. “You’re angry,” Bao Fang noted, her eyes narrowing with a smirk. “Let me teach you what anger does to your blade.” She struck fast, forcing Yu Bin against a tree. The impact shook her, but Yu Bin didn’t fall. She raised her sword again. “Resentment is born of pain,” Bao Fang said, s

“Xian Chen wasn’t just injured that day,” Bao Fang began, her voice low and heavy. “He was poisoned. The fierce corpses were tainted, and it happened in what was supposed to be a protected training ground.” The king’s expression shifted, confusion giving way to alarm. “Poisoned? That’s forbidden. Training corpses aren’t meant to be dangerous.” He paused, recalling something. “I remember… Xian Chen came to the castle looking pale. I told Ming Fang to help him. She said he only needed rest and medicine. Gods… Is he alright?” Bao Fang nodded slowly. “He is now. Ming Fang altered his medication—it nearly killed him. But I caught it in time and gave him an antidote. Even so, his spiritual core was damaged. He had to return to the Heaven Realm to cultivate. He’ll need two years to heal.” The queen clutched her chest, her heart aching. “Thank the heavens he survived…” Her eyes clouded with sorrow. If he had died… How would I have ever faced his parents in the afterlife? “That’s not all,”

*There was no gold. Only ash.... Only ghosts* “What… happened?” Yu Bin’s voice was quiet, but not calm. There was nothing calm in her heart. “Why are they like that?” Her eyes hovered over the bodies—her parents, her master—motionless and pale. “And… where is Xian Chen?” No one answered fast enough. The silence pressed in like smoke. Her breathing slowed. Her hands began to tremble. Don’t let him be gone too. “We found them dead, just outside your room,” Ming Fang finally said. “As for Xian Chen… I heard he entered the Heaven Realm not long ago.” Yu Bin didn’t move. He left? Then maybe… maybe he’s still alive. She clung to that single thread. “That’s not possible,” she said softly. “He wouldn’t leave without telling me.” “You trust him that much?” Ming Fang asked. Yu Bin turned. Her gaze was clear and cold. “I do.” Ming Fang’s expression sharpened. “Yu Bin, your family killed his family. Your master killed his father. You don’t think he had a reason to do this?” “He t

“Princess… what did you do to my master!?” Longwei’s roar shattered the silence, trembling between fury and despair. His voice cracked like thunder, echoing against the walls as though the heavens themselves accused her. “A-Xian… wake up—A-Xian, please…” He dropped to his knees beside Xian Chen’s lifeless body, hands shaking him, as if desperation alone could command death to retreat. But his chest remained still. His lips, pale. His warmth, gone. “No… please…” Longwei’s hands faltered. His breath hitched. He failed to keep his promise. He failed to protect the person who was most precious for him . Memories from their childhood to their adulthood passed through his face with the speed of the light while his body began to unravel. Golden scales dissolved into dust, his dragon form bleeding into sparks of smoke and light. He could no longer exist without the bond of his master’s spirit. “Damn you, princess…” Longwei’s voice cracked into nothing. “What did you do…?” And then—

Morning unfolded gently, like light seeping through the edge of a forgotten dream. The air was still, warm with the quiet breath of sleep, the curtains barely stirring as dawn traced pale gold across the room. Yu Bin woke slowly. For a moment she did not move. Her cheek rested against a steady heartbeat, her fingers curled in soft fabric, her body held within familiar warmth. Memory returned not as shock—but as tenderness. She lifted her gaze. Xian Chen was asleep, his expression unguarded, the years of sorrow and restraint finally loosened in rest. It had been so long since she had opened her eyes and found him there—close enough to hear his breathing, close enough to feel safe. A fragile smile touched her lips. Carefully, she raised her hand and brushed away a few loose strands of hair that had fallen across his face. Her fingers were feather-light, reverent—like one afraid to disturb a miracle. His lashes trembled. Because of her touch, his eyes opened—and he found her there