Yue stepped quietly into her friend's chamber within Jin Hai's palace, her footsteps soft against the polished wooden floor, each echo swallowed by the thick velvet curtains that hung in heavy folds along the high windows. The chamber was bathed in the golden glow of late afternoon sunlight, which streamed through latticed windows, casting a latticework of sharp and soft shadows across the floor. Every surface—the carved wooden panels, the embroidered cushions, the delicate porcelain vases—seemed familiar, each detail tugging at the edges of her memory with a painful, insistent familiarity.
The air smelled faintly of jasmine and sandalwood, mingling with the lingering scent of old parchment and polished wood. Yue's brows furrowed in confusion, a faint shiver tracing her spine. Familiarity had always been her enemy, whispering echoes of a past she could never quite reach. It teased her with shadows of recollection, leaving her both yearning and hollow. Memory itself was a cruel paradox. She longed to remember—faces, laughter, even pain—but each time she reached for a thread of the past, it slipped through her fingers like mist rising in the early dawn. Forgetfulness was her curse… or perhaps, her gift.
Her gaze fell upon Huo Feng. The girl lay motionless on the floor, as if time itself had paused around her. The soft folds of her clothing contrasted sharply with the wild tangle of dark hair spilling across the wooden floorboards, the strands catching the sunlight and glinting with hints of red and violet, like embers caught in a shadow. She looked lost—fragile, small, and exposed—as though trying to erase the image of her sorrowful mother from her heart, a haunting intrusion upon the memories she held of her father.
How strange, Yue thought, settling to her knees beside her friend. One of them fights to forget, while the other aches to remember.
With a sigh, soft as silk brushing over stone, Yue lifted Huo Feng's head gently onto her lap. Her fingers were careful, delicate, and trembling slightly, combing through the wild locks. The hair smelled faintly of smoke and rain, of storm clouds and sun-warmed earth, and every brush of her fingers sent a tremor of connection, a reminder of a touch long forgotten. She stroked it gently, the same way someone had comforted her once long ago—someone whose face had faded from memory, but whose embrace and calm, steady hands lingered in her heart like a soft echo.
In a whisper, fragile yet full of warmth, Yue asked,"What is it you want, Huo Feng? What do you dream of?"
Huo Feng's lips trembled, her breaths shallow. A tear escaped, hot and sharp, tracing down her cheek, scorching Yue's hands when they brushed together. Her voice was hoarse, fragile as porcelain,"I don't know… You tell me what I want."
Yue leaned closer, the faint scent of her own skin mingling with the warm, stormy aroma of Huo Feng's hair. Her voice softened, gentle as wind over water, threaded with concern:"Do you wish for revenge? To move forward? Or… do you simply want to understand why all this happened to you?"
Huo Feng's eyelids fluttered, quivering. She pressed them shut, attempting to stem the torrent of sorrow threatening to drown her. Her fingers curled against the floor, white-knuckled, trying to contain the swell of grief for the one she once loved—or thought she did. But it surged like a tide, relentless. Finally, she murmured through clenched teeth:"I think… revenge is the way forward. As for the reason—today or tomorrow—it no longer matters."
Yue leaned closer still, the warmth of her body a tether in the storm, her breath brushing Huo Feng's temple. "So, you've made your choice?"
Huo Feng clutched her head, trembling, her chest heaving unevenly. Her voice wavered between desperation and plea:"Yes… I'll take revenge. But not now. Right now, I just want to forget. Please… I want to forget everything. If I don't, I won't be able to stand, or move, or face time itself. What I saw—it will freeze me where I am. I'll never move forward."
Yue's tone softened further, like a lullaby drifting through a silent, moonlit hall. "Then… you wish to forget?"
Huo Feng's eyes opened, shimmering with the fragile interplay of hope and hopelessness. Yue smiled faintly and placed her palm gently on Huo Feng's forehead. "Then so be it, my friend. And should you ever wish to remember, your memories will be safe—with me."
The air seemed to shift around them, as if the chamber itself exhaled. Moments later, Huo Feng's eyes fluttered open, a faint, peaceful smile curving her lips as if the heavy clouds of that day had finally passed. The sunlight through the lattices caught in her hair, painting her in gold and amber, her wild locks softened against Yue's lap.
They sat together in silence, the quiet punctuated by the soft flutter of curtains in the breeze. Huo Feng felt a strange, gentle calm seep into her heart, a quiet she had not known in years. Yue allowed herself a faint sigh of relief, a weight lifting from her shoulders.
"It seems," she murmured, her voice soft, almost reverent, "that forgetting has given you space to breathe."
Huo Feng nodded, her voice steady, her spirit rekindled, bright as the first flush of dawn:"Yes… but it also reminded me that I still have much to do."
Rising together, the two exchanged a determined glance. That brief moment of forgetting had become a new beginning. Their footsteps echoed across the polished floors, soft yet resonant, carrying them back toward the academy—where fate awaited, patient and unyielding.
When they entered the grand hall, Mei Ling greeted them with a sly, venomous smile."So, you finally came to apologize to me?"
Huo Feng blinked, startled, but remained silent, gliding past toward her seat with serene composure.
Mei Ling sneered."Oh, don't bother apologizing. Perhaps it wasn't your fault after all… Maybe you were just afraid when you attacked me. Or maybe—you actually wanted to kill me!"
Huo Feng turned, her voice innocent, disarmingly so:"Apologize? To whom? And who in this realm is even worthy of an apology?"
Then, glancing at Yue, she asked, curious:"By the way, what's this 'fear' she keeps talking about?"
Yue replied coolly, eyes fixed elsewhere."Fear? Ah… it's her shadow. I doubt you've ever met it before."
Mei Ling's temper flared; her voice rose like lightning ready to strike—but the sudden appearance of Wu Xin froze her in place. One glance from Master Li sent the serpent retreating, at least for now.
The tension ebbed, though the air still vibrated with unspoken storms. The two masters sat upright, side by side, watching Huo Feng—still as stone, her silence heavy like thunder before the rain. Wu Xin's gaze softened momentarily, shadows of worry crossing his expression, but Master Li spoke first:
"How do you feel now, Huo Feng? Are you alright?"
She fiddled absently with her sleeve, her voice calm, distant."The wounds of the soul… cannot be spoken aloud."
Then, slowly, she lifted her eyes, sharp and cold as lightning, locking onto Wu Xin:"But don't worry. The strike of a stranger never truly wounds. I'll take it as… training."
Master Li forced a laugh, masking the gray haze creeping into his irises before he regained his warm tone:"You've all endured much lately—struggle, pain, and trial. So, we've decided to ease your spirits with a Talent Festival. Each of you will cook your finest dish and invite guests of your choice to join the feast. Afterwards, you'll display your special talents. Let this celebration refresh your hearts for the challenges to come."
Mei Ling tilted her head, voice thick with false innocence:"And may I… display all my talents that day, Master Wu Xin?"
Huo Feng laughed—loud, unrestrained, the sound echoing like bells through the hall, remembering how Suo had mimicked Mei Ling's meowing before the last test. Mei Ling's face twisted in irritation.
"We'll see who laughs last. A girl talented in every art… or a disaster without a shred of talent—aside from her one gift for making mistakes! And since you have no family to invite, you won't even have guests for the feast. How pitiful."
Yue's face darkened, ready to strike, but Huo Feng lifted a hand to silence her. Innocently, she asked:"She's right, isn't she? I have no family to invite, no talent to show, no dish I can make. So… what should I do?"
Suo leaned forward, smirking, teasing:"You could always dance for everyone—like a cheeky monkey. That way, you'll pass without actually winning anything."
Yue smacked him lightly. "How dare you—"
He rubbed his scalp, pouting. "You can't hit me! Only she can."
Before he knew it, Huo Feng pinched his cheek playfully."Good idea! Dancing it is—decision made!"
She sprang to her feet, movements wild and clumsy, a chaotic dance untethered by rhythm or music. Her limbs flailed like water escaping a dam, yet every motion radiated joy, laughter, and sheer life.
Master Li's laughter erupted, echoing through the hall, his gray eyes returning to bright ocean-blue. Suo's lips twitched until helpless mirth escaped.
Huo Feng didn't notice. She turned to Wu Xin, expecting amusement—or perhaps approval—but found his face flushed crimson.
"Enough!" he barked, sharp and commanding. "Leave the hall at once! I don't want to see you here—your madness is unbearable!"
Wu Xin's anger was a mask, protecting her from ridicule. Huo Feng, ever innocent, misunderstood."You don't want to see me?" she asked sweetly. "Then close your eyes until I'm done—so my dancing won't offend you!"
Laughter rippled. Mei Ling seized the moment:"You've proven your talent already, Huo Feng! But what about the feast? I hope your cooking is as… graceful as your dancing!"
Huo Feng gasped, struck by inspiration:"Ah! Thank you, Mei Ling—your words reminded me! The feast!"
She turned to Yue, eyes shining:"What should I cook, do you think? Fish? Pancakes? Sweets?"
Suo chuckled. "Why bother? Just make tea—and dance while serving it! That'll be a performance no one will forget."
Huo Feng's eyes lit like twin lanterns:"Suo, from now on I'll call you Suo the Charming! Your ideas are as beautiful as your face. You've saved me twice today!"
Suo's ears flushed. "But… you don't even like tea. What will you do?"
She smiled at him, eyes full of innocent admiration:"True. I don't drink tea… but you do. And that's reason enough for me to learn to make it perfectly."
Suo mumbled, retreating. Huo Feng called after him:"Wait! Won't you help me? Play me a tune—something to practice with!"
He paused at the doorway. "Not now," he said softly, before slipping away.
Huo Feng turned to Wu Xin, who watched in silence, gaze heavy with reprimand and something more she could not name. She smiled faintly, already lost in thought, recalling the secret tea recipe her father had taught her—the legendary "brew of awakening."
Suddenly, her eyes widened. She leapt to her feet, radiant with excitement."I've got it!" she exclaimed. "I think… I remember it!"