The birthing chamber glowed with warm light, its walls of carved jade shimmering under the glow of hovering spirit crystals. Outside, snow fell softly in the capital, muffling the city in rare silence—as though the world itself was holding its breath.
Within, a hush settled over the nobles, physicians, and guards as the newborn's first cry echoed once, bright and fragile, before fading into quiet.
In her mother's arms, the child blinked open eyes of startling silver, glimmering like moonlight reflected on water. The room stilled in awe.
And then it happened.
Silver-white fur shimmered into existence. Tiny, rounded ears twitched atop her head, followed by the lazy curl of a delicate tail. The infant yawned, unconcerned by the disbelief crashing through the chamber.
Gasps erupted.
"Impossible…" a physician whispered. "Spirit beasts do not manifest until the fifth year…"
"And yet—this child… she was born with hers?"
"And not just any beast! That silver-white form—what is she?"
Whispers gave way to dread and awe, for none could ignore what the child's appearance meant.
Her mother, Duchess Leng Qingya, clutched her closer, heart torn between trembling fear and fierce protectiveness. Yet before unease could spread further, Duke Leng stepped forward. Towering and steady as a mountain, he took the infant into his arms with utmost care.
His voice rang with authority, silencing the chamber.
"No matter what she is," he declared firmly, his gaze sweeping across attendants and nobles alike, "she is our blood. She is family. From this moment on, her life is ours to protect. Do you hear me?"
The command echoed like iron, stamping out hesitation.
And then—the heavy doors opened.
The Emperor himself entered, draped in robes of black and gold embroidered with the imperial crest. His presence filled the chamber, sharp as a blade unsheathed. Yet the moment his gaze fell upon the infant, the frost in his eyes melted.
He approached slowly, reverently, and reached out. The child's tiny paw-like hand curled around his finger, her ears flicking as she gave a kitten-like purr.
The Emperor's lips curved into a rare smile. His voice was deep, solemn, carrying with it the weight of ages:
"This child… is no ordinary gift. She is the treasure of our Empire. Guard her well—for she is destiny itself."
As his words settled, an aged priest from the Imperial Temple stepped forward, his body bent with years yet his eyes sharp with memory. He bowed deeply before the Emperor, his trembling voice carrying prophecy long remembered:
"Your Majesty… in the oldest records of the Celestial Scrolls, there is a prophecy. 'When the world trembles on the brink of ruin, when darkness devours the stars, one child shall be born beneath royal bloodlines, marked in silver. She shall bear the breath of all elements, and where she treads, empires shall unite or fall. She will be the light that quells the storm—the Spirit Empress, whose beast walks between time and eternity.'"
A ripple of shock coursed through the chamber.
The Emperor's expression darkened, then steadied as his gaze fell on the child nestled in Duke Leng's arms. His voice, soft yet unyielding, cut through the silence.
"Then it is clear. The heavens themselves have entrusted her to us. This child is not merely our treasure—she is the Empire's future."
One by one, every person in the chamber bent the knee, voices rising in solemn vow.
"We swear to protect the child of silver, until the stars themselves fade."
Unaware of the storm her birth had stirred, Leng Xueyin yawned, her tail curling against her small body as she drifted back into slumber—purring softly in the arms of those who would guard her with their lives.