Heaven's Only Men Cultivator

Chapter 15 - The Sleeping Princess

The silver dragonet let out a soft, melodic trill, its tiny claws kneading the fabric of Li Feng’s tunic. It looked up at the jade temple with eyes like molten mercury, then nudged Li Feng’s thumb toward the dark, gaping entrance.

"It wants us to go in," Li Feng said, his voice hushed by the overwhelming stillness of the plateau.

"It's a trap, Feng," Ying Yue whispered, her hand never leaving the hilt of her violet blade. "This is the Grave of the Heavens. Nothing living enters this place and comes back out the same."

"I’m already not the same," Li Feng replied. He looked at his hands, where the golden light still flickered beneath his skin. "Do you feel that? The temple isn't just stone. It's breathing."

"I feel like I’m standing in a freezer," she grumbled, shivering as a gust of wind kicked up silver snow. "But if that lizard is our only lead, lead on."

They stepped past the massive serpent statues. The air inside the temple was instantly different—heavier, older, and smelling of ozone and ancient incense. The walls were made of polished white jade that seemed to swallow the light of the moon, casting the long hallway in a ghostly, translucent glow.

"Look at the carvings," Li Feng said, pointing to the walls.

"They’re stories," Ying Yue noted, stepping closer to a relief. "Dragons falling from the sky. Women weeping. A golden cage descending over the world."

"That’s the Architect," Li Feng whispered. He felt a sharp pang in his chest, a resonance from the Yang Core. "He didn't just curse us. He locked the doors."

"Keep your head down," she warned. "The more you learn about the higher realms, the faster they notice you."

The hallway sloped downward, spiraling into the heart of the mountain. The temperature dropped with every step until the walls were no longer jade, but solid, unyielding ice. At the bottom of the spiral, they emerged into a vast, vaulted chamber. In the center stood a single, monolithic block of crystalline ice, glowing with a fierce, sapphire light.

"Is that... a woman?" Ying Yue gasped.

Inside the ice, suspended in a state of perfect, eternal grace, was a woman with hair like spun moonlight and skin that shimmered with silver scales. She wore a gown of translucent silk, and her hands were folded over a long, elegant sword.

"Long Chen," Li Feng breathed. The name came to him not from memory, but from the Core itself. "The Dragon Princess."

"She’s been dead for eight hundred years, Feng," Ying Yue said, her voice trembling. "Nobody survives the Eternal Rime. It’s a divine seal."

"She isn't dead," Li Feng countered. He walked toward the block of ice, drawn by a magnetic pull he couldn't resist. "She’s waiting."

"Don't touch it!" Ying Yue shouted, lunging forward to grab his arm. "The Rime will flash-freeze your soul!"

"It can't," Li Feng said, his eyes turning a brilliant, burning amber. "I am the sun, remember?"

He reached out. The moment his fingertips touched the surface of the sapphire ice, the chamber erupted in a deafening hiss. The Yang Core in his chest roared, pouring a thousand years of repressed heat into the seal. White steam billowed outward, filling the room with a blinding mist.

"Feng!" Ying Yue’s voice was a scream in the fog. "Get back!"

Break, Li Feng thought, his teeth gritting against the sheer pressure of the energies clashing. Break the cage!

The ice groaned. A sound like a thousand glass bells shattering echoed through the temple. The sapphire light intensified, then turned a blinding, molten gold as Li Feng’s energy flooded the chamber. With a final, tectonic crack, the monolithic block exploded into a million shards of harmless slush.

The mist cleared slowly.

Li Feng stood panting, his hand outstretched. In front of him, the woman was no longer a statue. She was kneeling on the jade floor, her long hair spilling around her like a silver waterfall. She took a single, ragged breath that sounded like the first wind of spring.

"Who..." she croaked, her voice raspy from centuries of silence.

She looked up. Her eyes were vertical slits of pure mercury, freezing and beautiful. She looked at Li Feng, then at the golden aura receding into his skin.

"A man?" she whispered, her brow furrowing in confusion. "A man with the heart of the Great Sun?"

"My name is Li Feng," he said, stepping back to give her space.

"I am Ying Yue," the demon agent added, her sword drawn and pointed toward the princess. "And you’ve been asleep for a very long time, Your Highness."

Long Chen stood up. She didn't move like a human; she moved with the fluid, terrifying grace of a predator. She ignored Ying Yue’s blade, her gaze fixed entirely on Li Feng. She reached out a hand, her silver scales catching the light.

"The seal," Long Chen said, looking at the melted slush on the floor. "The Architect’s Rime... you melted it with a single touch."

"I just wanted to wake you up," Li Feng said.

"You don't understand," she said, her voice gaining strength. "That seal was fueled by the cold of the void. Only a sovereign-level Yang could have cracked it. How does a slave of this era possess such a flame?"

"He’s special," Ying Yue snapped, stepping between them. "And we don't have time for a lecture. The Holy Light is right on our heels."

Long Chen finally looked at Ying Yue, her mercury eyes narrowing with disdain. "A daughter of the Abyss. Still hiding in the shadows, I see. Tell me, does your Queen still crawl in the dirt, hoping for a scrap of the Heavens?"

"Watch your tongue, lizard," Ying Yue hissed, her violet aura flaring. "I’m the one who’s been keeping him alive while you were playing ice cube."

"Enough!" Li Feng shouted.

Both women froze, startled by the authority in his voice. The Yang Core hummed, a low vibration that settled the tension in the room.

"Long Chen," Li Feng said, looking at the princess. "The world is broken. Men are slaves, and the women are killing each other for the scraps of a curse. You’re the only one who knows the truth. Why did the Architect do this?"

Long Chen’s expression softened, a trace of ancient sorrow flickering in her eyes. She sat on the edge of the jade pedestal, her silver gown shimmering.

"It wasn't a curse for your crimes," she said softly. "It was a protocol. The Architect feared the balance. When Yin and Yang are equal, humanity has the power to transcend the prison. He saw the sun rising in the hearts of men and the moon in the souls of women. He saw a race of gods."

"So he stole the sun," Li Feng said, his fist tightening.

"He didn't just steal it," she replied. "He locked it inside the Core and scattered the keys. He turned your strength into a poison and your women into jailers. He made you hate each other so you would never look up at the stars and see the bars of your cage."

"And the Holy Light?" Ying Yue asked.

"Puppets," Long Chen spat. "They worship the moonlight because it’s the only thing the Architect allows them to have. They think they are the masters of this world, but they are just the guards of a graveyard."

"Can it be fixed?" Li Feng asked.

Long Chen looked at him, her gaze piercing. She reached out and touched his chest, right over the humming Core. He felt a jolt of recognition—a connection that went back a thousand years.

"The Core has chosen you, Li Feng," she said. "But you are raw. You are a candle trying to be a furnace. Without the ancient arts, the fire will consume you before you ever reach the sky."

"Will you teach me?"

"I am the last of the Royal Line," she said, standing tall. "My kin are gone, my temple is a ruin, and my world is a memory. But if the sun has returned... then I have a reason to breathe again."

"Great," Ying Yue muttered, sheathing her sword. "Another woman in the group. Just what we needed."

"Jealousy is a trait of the weak, little demon," Long Chen remarked, a small, regal smirk playing on her lips.

"I'm not jealous," Ying Yue barked. "I’m practical. He’s a target, and you’re a walking lighthouse. We need to leave before the Saintess finds the entrance."

"Let them come," Long Chen said. She grabbed the silver sword from the pedestal, the blade singing as it felt her touch. "I haven't tasted the blood of a 'Saint' in eight centuries."

"No," Li Feng said. "We go higher. To the peak."

"Why?" Ying Yue asked.

"Because the Architect is watching," Li Feng said, looking up at the vaulted ceiling. "And I want him to see me coming."

Long Chen knelt before him, her silver hair brushing the floor. It was a gesture of respect that made Li Feng’s skin crawl—the old slave instincts screaming at the sight of a princess bowing to him.

"Master of the Dawn," she whispered. "The path ahead is paved with the ash of empires. Are you ready to burn the world to save it?"

Li Feng looked at Ying Yue, then at the tiny silver dragon perched on his shoulder. He felt the mental mentality of the slave finally falling away, replaced by a cold, radiating purpose.

"I’m ready," Li Feng said.

"Then hear the truth," Long Chen said, her eyes glowing with a terrifying mercury light. "You aren't just an anomaly, Li Feng. You are the final fail-safe. You are the only key that can unlock the Grave of the Heavens and tear the Architect from his throne."

Outside, the mountain shook. A roar of thunder echoed through the jade halls, but it wasn't the weather. It was the sound of a thousand silver wings descending.

The hunt had truly begun.

***