They departed immediately.
No banquet.
No farewell ritual.
No formal token of goodwill.
Not even a polite nod to Rong Qi, the smallest and most harmless presence among them. Was taken away.
The Beast Clan's gates shut behind them with an echo that felt far too eager—like the entire territory was relieved to be rid of them. The tall mountain ridges surrounding the Azure Scaled Court shimmered under the pale early-morning sun, casting jagged shadows across the stone path they now walked. Mist curled like sleeping serpents around their ankles. In the distance, crystalline leaves rustled softly in the mountain winds, sounding less like nature's greeting and more like an amused whisper.
Xing Yue watched the gates linger in the distance before turning back to the approaching figure. Jiang Yunxian came out from the courtyard with the kind of expression that said the emperor inside had most definitely gotten on his nerves.
"How did it go?" she asked immediately, her tone gentle, but not without curiosity.
Jiang Yunxian pointed dramatically behind him. "That man—" he began, voice rising, "—is truly an a*s."
His hair fluttered in the breeze with an indignance that matched his tone perfectly.
"He just pushed me out. Pushed. Like I'm some random dirt he steps on when walking through the training fields!"
There was no anger, but the offense? Oh, the offense was deep.
"Not even wine," he continued, flipping his sleeve.
"Not even women."
"And not even that silly little 'good-luck token' they give to people when they're too lazy to go on a journey themselves!"
Xing Yue inhaled slowly.
Then she chuckled.
A soft, knowing, almost motherly sound. The kind that made the morning air feel warmer.
"Don't complain," she said lightly. "You two are birds of the same feather."
Jiang Yunxian froze mid-stomp.
"Excuse me?" he asked.
"It's true," she mused.
"One loud, one louder."
"One stubborn, one impossibly stubborn."
"And both of you have this strange ability to make everyone around you tired with just your presence."
"Absolutely not," he declared. "Alcohol may flow in my veins, but I refuse—utterly refuse—to be placed in the same category as that beard-swinging relic."
He flicked imaginary dust off his sleeve as if the comparison physically dirtied him.
Xing Yue only smirked.
"I'm sorry," he continued with heavy theatrics, "but I'll pass."
"You can't pass." She tapped him on the chest with one finger. "It's in your blood."
Jiang Yunxian gasped and staggered back. "Wine is in my blood, Xing Yue—not… beards that can practically escort someone straight to heaven without using any spells."
The word "heaven" froze her.
A faint shadow passed behind her eyes, subtle as the flicker of a dying flame. But she mastered it instantly, smoothing her expression into a calm smile she had perfected over centuries.
Jiang Yunxian didn't notice. His mind was suddenly elsewhere—looking… searching…
And then—
"AHHHHH!!!"
His scream startled the nearby spirit birds into flight.
Xing Yue nearly dropped the cat that clung to her, refusing to let go, with it meowing and meowing.
"What is it?" she demanded, running to Jiang Yunxian's side. Panic bloomed in her chest—the man rarely screamed like a maiden falling into a pond unless it was truly serious.
"My… my…" he gasped, patting frantically at his waist.
"My wine gourd… where is it?!"
Xing Yue blinked, looking around cautiously.
"Wine?… Ah—"
Her voice stretched the word far too long.
"Ah?" Jiang Yunxian stared, betrayal already forming on his face.
"Um… Um…" she tried again.
"Umm?" he echoed with rising horror.
The expression on his face…
Gods above.
He looked like a prince waiting to be rescued—if the prince was emotionally fragile and the rescue involved alcohol.
"You're a Star God," he said slowly, stepping closer. "You don't stammer, Xing Yue. Where. Is. My. Wine?"
A thick silence settled between them.
Xing Yue finally exhaled.
"Fine."
She looked away.
"Rong Qi handed it over to Lianhua. And…"
Jiang Yunxian went limp.
Limp.
He slid dramatically onto the cold stone road like someone who had lost the will to live.
"You betrayed me…" he whispered in despair.
"You crushed my trust… you trampled on my spirit…"
"My soul is broken…"
"It's just wine," she said, half amused, half exasperated.
The look he gave her.
Oh heavens.
It was like he'd lost his beloved child.
"Fine!" she huffed. "Fine. I'll make another one. Stop looking at me like a widowed grandmother."
Instant resurrection.
Jiang Yunxian snapped upright, sparkling with hope.
The cat perked up in anticipation, it's white a gold furs fluttering.
Even the stubborn breeze seemed to hush.
Xing Yue raised two fingers to her lips.
Her breath stilled.
Her eyes softened with divine concentration.
She murmured ancient syllables—soft, flowing, almost melodic. Blue and gold light coiled around her hands, swirling like galaxies dancing on her fingertips. Her fingers moved through elegant hand seals, each motion smooth and practiced, painting trails of starlight in the air.
The world quieted.
Leaves stilled.
Clouds paused.
Even the distant mountain beasts went silent.
Then—
A flash of brilliance.
A new wine gourd formed between her palms, warm, glowing faintly, brimming with celestial wine so fragrant the air felt sweeter just being near it.
Jiang Yunxian inhaled sharply. As he took the wine from her, tasting it with happiness that could soothe a child.
"Now, this is wine." He said with the conviction of truth. And the goodness a sweet wine could to win alcoholic.
The cat's eyes became stars.
And Xing Yue…
Xing Yue allowed herself the smallest smile—because even in the strangeness of her life, even carrying a past too heavy for heaven, she found odd comfort in moments like this.
The journey had only begun.
Trouble awaited.
The celestial realm loomed in their future.
But for now—for just this fleeting breath—
The three of them stood together beneath an endless sky, the world stretching wide and uncertain ahead of them.
And somehow, that was enough.
---
They had left the Beast Realm behind—
left the towering crystalline trees that chimed in the wind,
left the dense silver bushes that whispered secrets only beasts understood,
left the heavy, ancient air that carried the breath of thousands of years.
And somehow, as if fate was guiding their feet in a quietly cruel circle,
they arrived at the same place they had once met the River Sprite.
But this time…
The world was different.
The river still glowed with its faint luminescence, but its brilliance was dim—like a lantern burning out. What had once shimmered with life and ethereal grace now looked thin, stretched, lonely. The banks were quiet; the petals floating on its surface had dried into pale shadows of their former selves.
Even the air felt hollow.
As though something sacred had been missing for far too long.
Call it tong—now a small snowy cat nestled in Xing Yue's arms—refused to move. He curled tighter against her chest, burying his tiny head under her sleeve as if her heartbeat alone could shield him from the emptiness around them. Xing Yue gently tightened her hold, her fingers brushing lightly through his fur, soothing him in silence.
Compared to the last time…
When the River Sprite had danced above the water,
when Rong Qi's phoenix aura had filled the clearing with warmth and flame-touched purity,
when the Aether Spring had breathed like a living heart—
Now?
It felt like a grave.
"It looks different," Jiang Yunxian murmured, turning slowly to take in the stillness. "Different from last time."
Xing Yue nodded. "Yeah. It's still… beautiful, in its way. But different. Like…"
Her gaze drifted over the empty riverbank, the faded glow, the abandoned stillness.
"Like it's...Like...."
"—Like it's been left behind by the world," Jiang Yunxian finished for her.
"Exactly."
She exhaled, watching her breath catch faintly against the cool night air.
"But why?"
"Maybe it's because they aren't here," Jiang Yunxian replied, resting a hand on his waist.
"They?" Xing Yue asked. "You mean… the River Sprite and Rong Qi?"
He nodded once. "Who else?"
"Why would their absence cause this?" she asked, genuine confusion shadowing her features.
Jiang Yunxian lifted a brow at her.
"Shouldn't you know this? Aren't you the Star God? Heavenly realm, divine duties, cosmic knowledge, all that?"
She gave him a flat look.
"Why should I know? I just came back after… after too many things went wrong."
Her voice softened.
"I know Heaven. Its rules. Its memories. Its mistakes."
Her eyes lowered.
"But I don't know the world below. Not anymore."
Jiang Yunxian studied her silently.
The way her fingers absently stroke tong's fur for comfort.
The slight tremble in her breath despite her attempt to mask it.
The shadow behind her eyes—like starlight that had dimmed under centuries of storms.
He came closer but didn't touch her. His presence alone was enough.
He knew she didn't want to speak.
He knew it hurt.
He knew pressing her would only reopen wounds she hadn't even started healing.
So he didn't.
Instead, he looked toward the river.
"Rong Qi told said once," he began softly, "that the Aether Spring was born from phoenix blood."
Xing Yue's eyes flickered—but she didn't speak.
"He said that those waters once reflected the Phoenix Clan. Their pride. Their spirit. Their warmth."
He paused, waiting.
She still said nothing.
"So if Rong Qi… the last descendant of that clan… isn't here," he continued, "then the spring loses its heartbeat. The river loses its memory. And this place…"
He looked around again.
"…it becomes what it is now. A shell."
Silence.
The river shimmered faintly, reflecting the cold silver of the night sky. Above them, the stars stretched endlessly, unbothered, ancient, watching from the heavens like silent witnesses.
Xing Yue finally nodded. "That's true," she said softly.
"Deep faith leaves deep scars when it fades."
Jiang Yunxian let out a slow sigh. One that carried humor, sadness, and acceptance all tangled into one.
"It truly does," he whispered.
He tilted his head back, studying the dazzling sky—the stars that seemed brighter here, almost as if they were trying to fill the emptiness below them. Their light wove across the clearing, making the forgotten river shimmer with a fragile echo of its former beauty.
Beside him, Xing Yue looked up too.
Her eyes reflected the night sky—vast, endless, full of wounds and wonder.
Rong Qi stirred faintly against her chest, sensing something in the air, but didn't speak.
For a moment…
The three of them simply stood there—
a wandering swordsman with a foolishly honest tongue,
a star god with a heart full of broken heavens,
and a phoenix who had forgotten how to be one.
A strange trio.
A fragile trio.
But a trio bound by something the world—beast realm, celestial realm, mortal realm—couldn't take from them.
Fate.
And the night, silent and ancient, wrapped them gently in its glow.
___
The night dropped slowly over the forgotten riverbank, settling like a velvet cloak stitched with silver stars. The cold crept in steadily, slipping between stones and whispering through the dried reeds. Jiang Yunxian, grumbling under his breath, tossed more wood into the fire. The flames crackled alive, warm orange light fanning across their small camp and pushing the night back a little farther.
A plump fish—caught an hour ago with Jiang Yunxian's unexplainable luck—hung on two thin branches above the fire, its skin blistering with a faint hiss. And next to it, precariously balanced on a smaller rock, was Jiang Yunxian's newly conjured wine gourd, heating like it was a prized treasure blessed by heaven.
Xing Yue sat cross-legged a short distance away, still as a temple statue, her long lashes lowered as she meditated. The faint glow around her—subtle traces of celestial qi—lit the air with a quiet grace.
Tong the relentless snowy white kitten, lay sprawled across her lap, pressing his tiny face into the folds of her robe. His breathing was soft and slow. Peaceful. Vulnerable.
For a while, silence reigned.
The fire crackled.
The river hummed faintly.
The stars blinked like curious watchers.
And Jiang Yunxian… he stared blankly at everything, obviously itching for something—anything—to disrupt the quiet.
It didn't take long.
"You asleep?" he asked loudly.
Xing Yue didn't even open her eyes. "What makes you think that?"
"You look like you're five minutes from falling face-first into the dirt."
She shrugged without interest. "Resting isn't a crime."
It was too calm. Too still. Too unnerving for Jiang Yunxian's restless soul.
He plucked a tiny herb near his foot and flicked it into the fire. Then, after two more seconds of unbearable silence—
"You looked frightened," he said suddenly, "when that wig-beard emperor said 'go to the Yanli Continent.' Why?"
Her eyes snapped open.
"Nothing."
Too quick. Too sharp. Too forced.
"I'm here. Nothing will happen," she added, tones carefully even.
"That sounds comforting," he said, leaning back on his hands. "But I can actually take care of myself. Contrary to what that beard tyrant believes."
Xing Yue's lips twitched but she didn't take the bait.
"What's with the place anyway?" Yunxian continued, lifting his now-warmed gourd from the fire. "Is it where demons set up their little base?"
"Partly."
"That doesn't sound boring. Say more."
She gave him a long, measured look.
Then sighed—the kind that carried weight, history, and warning.
"There was a woman born from there. Lady Cangyin." Xing Yue adjusted her posture, her back remaining straight despite the heaviness in her voice.
"She was a prodigy. A brilliant immortal. The Heavenly Emperor sent her to Yanli to observe and report."
A pause.
"Then…"
"Then what?" Jiang Yunxian prodded, shifting closer like a child hearing a ghost story.
"She died trying to save her stepbrother."
Yunxian blinked. "Stepbrother… like in a normal familial, platonic-type way?"
Xing Yue shook her head slowly.
"Romantic."
"Oh."
He took a generous gulp of wine.
"That escalated quickly."
"You don't understand," she continued softly. "The Heavenly Emperor detests forbidden attachments between immortals and mortals. Especially between immortals and those tied to corrupted lands."
"And yet she still saved him."
"Love makes people foolish," she said simply.
He nodded. That, he understood all too well.
"But the Yanli Continent was feared long before Lady Cangyin's tragedy," Xing Yue continued. "The founder of that place—Hong Yanli—was a man no one ever found. Not in Heaven. Not in the mortal realm. Not in the void."
"And?" he asked, lifting a brow.
"And… after things spiraled, I was taken away."
"Away?" Yunxian echoed, surprised.
"Yes. Something… something a mischievous trio did. Long ago."
He stared at her.
"You?" he laughed. "Mischievous? You look like the word holiness got carved into your bones. Hard to picture you causing trouble."
Xing Yue ignored him—but her ears turned faintly pink.
The fire crackled again.
A soft breeze rustled the colorless reeds.
The moonlight washed over them, gentle and cool.
"So," Yunxian said after a sip of wine, "what next?"
"I… don't know." She looked up at the sky, eyes reflecting a faint loneliness. "I haven't thought that far."
"Well, by the time we get back," he said cheerfully, "Rong Qi will be able to walk, talk, read, and probably set the Beast Emperor's beard on fire. That wig-beard tyrant better not starve him."
Xing Yue smiled—a real, soft smile. The rare kind that reached her eyes.
Maybe…
Maybe there was still time.
To fix old wounds.
To uncover truths.
To face the past.
To change the future.
And maybe—
just maybe—
this foolish, wine-soaked, brutally honest man at her side would be the one to help her do it.
The night deepened.
The fire glowed.
Tong breathed steadily.
And they—an immortal, a drunken disciple, and a cat—sat beneath the stars on the edge of a forgotten river.
And fate, unseen, began to move.
In quite a way, that was too tangled to separate.