After everyone had witnessed how quickly Huo Feng learned, their admiration for her deepened, like sunlight spilling over the morning mist. Respect clung to her like dew on petals, soft yet undeniable. But for Mei Ling, this admiration sparked a wicked idea — a scheme to embarrass her during the next trial. Little did she know… this innocent girl was no trivial target. In the end, innocence always holds the final word.
Master Li gathered the disciples among the clouds, his voice drifting across the sky like a divine echo, resonating with the whisper of wind and the distant rumble of thunder.
"These clouds," he began, his tone solemn yet melodic, "are Heaven's blessings to the lower realm. Through their gloom, they warn; through their tears, they bring joy. When we speak, they listen. When we paint, they obey. In this trial, you may choose your own path — but remember, the hardest path is often the truest one."
As usual, Huo Feng tilted her head, puzzled, the clouds swirling around her like curious spirits. She crept closer, the soft rustle of her robes mingling with the faint scent of rain, and whispered,
"Master Li, I've confirmed it today — you truly are a wise man, especially after hearing such... wise-sounding words. But could you, perhaps, tell me what we're actually supposed to do?"
He smiled that gentle, knowing smile, the kind that made the sky seem warmer, and covered her eyes with one hand.
"Drift through your memories," he said softly, "and stop where your happiest moments shine. There you'll find your answer."
She blinked, her innocence radiating like morning dew.
"I'll try… though I still don't quite understand."
Closing her eyes, she summoned the warmth of her happiest memories —but Suo's mocking laugh shattered the moment like lightning splitting glass.
"Cloud trimming is an art," he sneered, voice slicing through the air like a cold blade. "It carries symbols and messages for the mortals below. How could you possibly grasp that, little buzzing fly? Don't even try — you'll never be an artist."
Her jaw tightened, the taste of determination bitter on her tongue. She bit her lip and raised her sword; sparks danced along its edge, illuminating her face in jagged flashes of white lightning. Dozens of tiny thunderbolts erupted from her blade, striking her cloud with a furious rhythm. She moved fast, reckless, desperate to finish before the arrogant Suo — so reckless that she didn't notice Master Wu Xin approaching.
Her final strike went astray, slicing through a single strand of his hair, which fluttered in the wind like a lost ribbon.
At that instant, his voice boomed across the skies, low and commanding, echoing against the distant peaks:
"Huuuuoooo Feng!"
Panic surged through her. She lunged forward, chasing the drifting strand, hoping to save it — and herself — from the punishment she felt was inevitable. Her fingers closed gently around it, and she flew toward him, her robes fluttering like silver waves, their breaths mingling in the charged air.
She wanted to apologize, to repair what she had broken. Holding the strand delicately, she extended it toward him. But that reckless nearness — that simple, innocent touch — stirred something in him beyond words.
A strange, pure tremor ran through his body, reaching past flesh and bone straight into the depths of his soul. His heart faltered, his breathing uneven, and the harder he tried to resist it, the stronger it became.
He said nothing. His silence puzzled everyone — why was the strict, unyielding Wu Xin suddenly gentle with her?
His eyes softened, though his stern expression remained. The clenching of his jaw betrayed a storm within. And when he could bear it no longer, he whispered close to her ear, his voice trembling with control:
"Step back… before I use my whip to help you."
Finally, the trial ended. The disciples returned to their quarters, hearts thudding with anticipation, eager to hear results and spread the rumors that would surely follow.
Days passed — one, then two — with everyone studying hard, preparing for what lay ahead. But on the third day, several heavenly elders arrived at the academy. Their faces were dark, etched with fury and impatience. They had come to judge a foolish little sinner — the same girl who had confounded the entire kingdom.
It wasn't the severed hair of Master Wu Xin that they wished to punish her for. It was something far greater — the burning of a cultivated field, the lifeline of a humble village, now threatened with hunger and ruin.
One elder roared, his voice shaking the hall as if the walls themselves trembled:
"Do you have any idea what your actions have brought upon that poor village? Was it hatred that guided your hand?"
Another, older and wearier, added, voice tinged with sorrow:
"You sent strange symbols to them, child… and now their lives are steeped in grief."
Huo Feng tilted her head, eyes wide with innocent curiosity. She raised her hand, asking permission to speak — as she always did. When Master Wu Xin nodded, she grinned brightly and said cheerfully,
"Their lives won't be sorrowful! And I didn't bring them misfortune. I simply told them to burn their fields — that was necessary! And once it all turned to ash, I told them to break the dam."
Gasps erupted among her peers. Mei Ling smirked, her voice dripping with mockery:
"So burning their crops wasn't enough for you? You drowned their hope as well? Truly, in cruelty, no one can match you."
Yue snapped back, sharp and protective:
"And you'll always be the vile one, Mei Ling."
"Enough!" Wu Xin's voice cut through the chaos, precise as a blade. He turned to Huo Feng, eyes imploring:
"I'm certain you have a reason for this, don't you? Tell us the truth."
Before she could answer, Suo stepped forward quickly.
"It was my fault! I provoked her again. She only acted rashly because of me."
Mei Ling's frown deepened, her voice sharp as glass:
"Be rational, Suo. Don't let your feelings drive you into punishment alongside her."
Suo glared at her, frustration flickering in his gaze.
"You were there, Mei Ling! You saw everything. Don't let jealousy blind you!"
Her face flushed crimson.
"Jealousy? You accuse me of hiding the truth because you like her? You'd share her punishment out of love? How pathetic!"
Suo stammered, lost for words:
"No — I'm not defending her because I like her, I—"
A calm voice interrupted. Master Li appeared, his eyes shimmering with quiet, inscrutable mystery.
"As for me," he said softly, "I am defending her — because I am quite fond of her. Any objections?"
With a graceful wave of his hand, an illusion unfolded before them — a vivid vision of the suffering village.
There, the king of that land feasted among nobles, celebrating the birth of his son.
"You've all come bearing gifts," the king boomed proudly, "but I desire something greater — the finest lands among you, as tribute for my child. Surely that isn't too much?"
The nobles exchanged uneasy glances. To rid themselves of the demand, they pointed toward the very land of the now "cursed" village.
"That land," they said, "is vast and rich. Its harvests are bountiful. It is the most prized among us all."
The old village chief stepped forward, trembling yet cunning.
"It would be our honor, Your Majesty," he said. "Your joy is our blessing. We shall vacate the land tomorrow. But… there is one rumor I must confess — that soil has turned to ruin. Its fields were burned… and the floodwaters took what remained."
The Queen Mother gasped.
"So your land is accursed! Would you bring such misfortune upon the prince?"
The chief bowed deeply, hiding a sly smile — for he had just saved his people through her "mistake."
The illusion faded. Master Li turned back to Huo Feng, warmth softening his gaze.
"And that," he said, "is why you should thank her. Just as the chief did. She saved their lives."
Silence fell. Shame washed the hall — all except for Mei Ling, whose jealousy still burned. She smirked darkly.
"So you escaped one crime, but what about the other? You dared damage our great master's hair — how will you defend yourself now?"
Huo Feng chuckled softly, like a melody in the wind.
"Did he go bald because of it? It was just a strand. If he wants, I'll give him more."
Before anyone could react, she grabbed a handful of her own hair — and cut it.
Gasps rippled through the crowd. No one knew whether to scold her or admire her audacity.
She stepped forward, holding the bundle toward Wu Xin with an apologetic smile that felt… oddly deliberate.
"Here. Take it. If you want more, I'll give you all you need."
Master Li burst into laughter, the sound like bells ringing in the clear sky. She was the only one who could make his soul laugh so purely. Wu Xin, however, accepted the hair silently, hiding the faintest smile behind his calm, stoic mask.
He asked softly,
"Did you keep the strand you cut from me?"
She nodded proudly.
"Of course not! I kept it right here." She pointed to her chest, just above her heart.
Then, with childlike sincerity:
"If you want it back, I can return it."
Wu Xin looked away quickly, replying in a tone far gentler than anyone expected:
"It will grow back. Keep it… as you wish."
Huo Feng turned toward Mei Ling with a victorious smirk.
"There. The matter's settled. Do you have another charge waiting?"
Mei Ling's fury simmered beneath her cold smile. Her heart ached, twisted by envy. She vowed then and there — in the next trial, she would end this.