At that time, Huo Feng was nothing more than a pampered breath of wind—a tiny whirlwind that could only be perceived if one focused with the patience of a sage. She darted and twirled with the grace of a drifting petal, her movements perfectly attuned to the fluttering butterflies, the hum of bees, and the subtle fragrance of jasmine and lotus in the palace gardens. It was as if she were a spirit of the flowers themselves, a living wisp of air dancing through the sun-drenched courtyard.
She shadowed her father, Jin Hai, everywhere, always close enough to mirror his gestures yet invisible enough not to disturb the dignity of his presence. Yet, she had never dared to step beyond the palace's boundaries, where the world awaited her in all its harsh and untamed splendor. Whenever Jin Hai departed on a mission—which was rare—he would either leave her to amuse herself among the blooms or hide her amidst the clouds that lazily drifted over the palace turrets, ensuring that no one would discover the tiny whirlwind.
One fateful day, the commander of the elite, Wu Xin—who had yet to ascend to his later title of Warlord and Supreme Commander of the Heavenly Armies—visited Jin Hai's palace. His arrival was silent, almost predatory, as he came to check on Jin Hai and assess the situation under his care. Wu Xin approached without a sound, his presence barely noticeable, standing behind Jin Hai with the quiet patience of a hawk circling its prey. Jin Hai's thoughts were elsewhere, weighed down by duty and worry, and he did not sense the commander's arrival. Meanwhile, Huo Feng spun above his shoulder like a playful zephyr, teasing the world with her unseen laughter.
Suddenly, Wu Xin lifted his hand instinctively, slapping her with firm force, thinking she was a mischievous insect daring to touch him. The little whirlwind recoiled, spun back, and returned with a teasing resilience. Attempting to catch her, he extended both hands—but Huo Feng vanished before his eyes, as though she had dissolved into air itself.
Jin Hai's heart seized with fear, a cold spike piercing his chest. He forced a distracted calm, turning to Wu Xin with feigned curiosity, his voice tinged with both concern and suppressed frustration:"Welcome, Commander. Forgive me... I did not sense your presence until now."
Wu Xin's reply was as calm and measured as a river cutting through stone over centuries:"No, forgive my rudeness. I did not intend to startle you. I merely brushed away a bug from your shoulder."
A quiet bitterness escaped Jin Hai's lips as he exhaled, his gaze falling on the garden where life thrived, fragile and fleeting:"It is fine for bugs to linger in the garden. They will not harm me... unlike those whose duty was to protect me."
The words carried a veiled reference to those superiors who had condemned his wife to death, a punishment for her very essence, merely because she hailed from the Shadow Realm—a realm that even now lingered like a shadow over his heart.
He paused, letting the weight of memory and sorrow hang between them, before continuing, his voice heavy yet respectful:"Forgive my neglect, Commander... Please, take a seat."
Wu Xin, however, did not yield to comfort. His gaze was firm, his posture unyielding:"No. Instead, forgive me for what I am about to request. Would you accompany me to my palace? There is something important I wish to show you... and ask your counsel on."
Jin Hai's chest lightened slightly; the heaviness that clung to him lifted, replaced by a spark of curiosity. Whatever this secret was, it was vital—and cloaked in mystery, held carefully within Wu Xin's private quarters. But what could it be? And from whom had he hidden it all these years?
As they walked toward Wu Xin's residence, Huo Feng trailed silently, invisible to the adult eyes, her small form floating among the petals and rustling leaves. Every step was measured, every flutter deliberate, as if she were charting a new world, observing carefully the motions of those who shaped destinies.
Upon reaching the palace, Wu Xin's command was absolute. Not a soul could enter his chambers, no matter the plea or the rank of the visitor. Jin Hai's curiosity was piqued, his chest tightened with a strange anticipation—a mixture of fear, awe, and a subtle thrill at the forbidden. The unknown that awaited inside could change the course of events forever, and he sensed that it might also bring his undoing—the erasure of his very name.
Wu Xin lifted a fine silken cloth, revealing a small jar. Its contents shimmered faintly with a dark allure, a forbidden talisman capable of possessing its master, granting him the uncanny power to replicate any skill he desired. The artifact was not only forbidden in the mortal realm, but even the Shadow Realm trembled at its existence.
Alarm flashed in Jin Hai's eyes as he whispered, almost too quietly to be heard:"How did you acquire this? And who else knows of it besides me?"
Wu Xin's voice was steady, calm, unshakable:"I doubt the means matter now... You are aware that the King of Shadows spent his life seeking it. That is why I have brought it to you. Your counsel is the only one I trust."
Confusion clouded Jin Hai's features. "Then why not inform the Council of Elders first?"
Wu Xin's answer was unwavering, carved from conviction:"Because I trust no one but you with it."
Jin Hai contemplated the talisman, the weight of centuries pressing upon his shoulders, before speaking with resolute clarity:"You must announce its existence in the Heavenly Kingdom publicly, before the assembly of the Elders, so that none will dare to covet it in secret. Afterwards, it must be destroyed immediately—without hesitation. For if word spreads even a fraction, countless hearts will hunger for it, and calamity will follow."
Wu Xin, though calm, questioned:"And when shall we summon the Council?"
"Wait a little longer," Jin Hai said thoughtfully, eyes narrowing as he measured the weight of destiny. "Until the Grand Commander returns from his seclusion. Only then can the plan unfold with precision."
A moment of silence passed, heavy with unspoken possibilities, before Wu Xin added, his voice quieter now, almost a whisper:"Then, until that time... relieve me of this burden. You know well that my palace is crowded with guards, servants, and constant visitors. I cannot ensure its safety here. Keep it with you... it will be safer away from prying eyes and greedy hearts."
That day, Jin Hai's thoughts were consumed entirely by the talisman. He did not notice Huo Feng trailing after him, invisible yet attentive, her eyes wide with curiosity and a hint of mischief.
As evening fell, Wu Xin finally stepped from his chamber, serene, as if he had lifted a mountain from his shoulders. He paused, gazing at the towering sacred tree that cast its golden leaves across the courtyard. A sudden, strange wind stirred the leaves, spinning unpredictably, as if the trees themselves whispered secrets of distant times.
Wu Xin tilted her head, feeling the pulse of the air, a sensation both thrilling and ominous. The breeze carried more than just fragrance—it carried the weight of secrets, the whispers of power yet unseen, and the promise that her world, small as it was, might soon stretch beyond the boundaries she had known all her life.