In the depths of the Shadow Realm, where darkness clung to every surface like a living shroud, the silence of the underworld intertwined with the murmurs of restless souls. Amid this eternal gloom, the roots of Hui Lin—known to the sages as the Sacred Tree of Life, the Tree of Eternity—spread like silver veins through shadowed earth.
Its roots glimmered faintly, as if threaded with liquid moonlight, twisting around each other with a deliberate grace, guarding secrets older than kingdoms. They sank deep into the black soil, drinking in the mysteries of the realm, feeding on whispers of time long past. From this tangled heart, the trunks rose, slender and fragile at first, then broadening and branching as they pierced through layers of darkness and mortal lands, reaching ever higher toward the Earthly Kingdom.
Its shadow brushed the soil, yet did not stop. It climbed through the air like a pale sentinel, slicing clouds with the elegance of inevitability, until it breached the Heavenly Kingdom itself. There, among golden domes and floating spires, hovered Hui Lin's blossom—a cloud of soft pink petals, drifting like a celestial veil at the edge of the divine realm. From afar, the blossoms seemed to dance with their own inner light, yet on closer view, each leaf shimmered like crystal, delicate and translucent, swaying alongside colorless flowers that waited patiently to borrow the hues of their sisters.
Each pulse of the tree's life beat like a slow, deliberate breath—the rhythm of eternity, echoing through earth, sky, and shadow alike.
From its base, the legendary Shui Guan spring poured its waters into the roots, each drop a miniature prism of life, trickling through channels of light that never ceased, connecting heaven, earth, and underworld in one continuous flow.
Around this living legend, Masters Li and Wu Xin stood, calm yet charged with reverence, their disciples gathered silently, hearts pounding against their chests. Among them, Huo Feng moved with quiet grace, her small figure dwarfed by the sprawling majesty of the tree. The air was thick with fragrance—the faintly sweet scent of blossoms mingling with the earthy aroma of root and water—and with awe so palpable it pressed against the skin like warmth.
Master Li's voice broke the hush, deep and resonant, vibrating as though carried from the very heart of Hui Lin itself:
"This is Hui Lin… not merely a tree, but the very heart of Heaven, Earth, and Shadow. Every flower upon it holds a secret. Our trial today is simple… simple, yet it carries eternity within its core."
Huo Feng's eyes sparkled with innocent curiosity, reflecting the soft pink and silver glow of the blossoms.
"You said it's simple… are we going to sing to the tree? She loves that, you know!"
A ripple of laughter followed her words, light and melodic. Even Master Li's stern face softened, and for a fleeting heartbeat, the air was tender. He smiled faintly, a warmth brushing the students' hearts, and said:
"Step forward, and pluck one flower from this tree."
The words were simple, yet their weight pressed down like a tangible thing. For every flower chosen would reveal the hidden truth within one's spirit, exposing even that which the heart dared not speak.
The students approached, each face lit with anticipation and fear. Hands reached toward the luminous petals, delicate as spun glass—but every time a finger neared, the blossom would fold inward, vanishing into the air with a whisper like sighing silk, leaving only the bitter chill of silence.
All failed. Confusion rippled like frost across the faces of the disciples—all except Huo Feng, who did not even move toward the tree.
Mei stepped forward, mocking, her lips curling into a cruel smile:
"Giving up before you even try? How pitiful."
Huo Feng's gaze drifted to the masters, then back to the tree, soft sadness in her eyes.
"Yes… I'm a failure," she whispered. "I can't do it. I can't betray her by tearing a part of her away… She's my second mother."
A cruel laugh cut through the air—sharp and biting. Mei's voice, full of venom, sought to wound every heart that listened.
"That's your excuse, Huo Feng? How ridiculous."
Without hesitation, Mei fixed her gaze on a single blossom, faintly glowing and seemingly watching her. It shimmered as though aware of her touch, as though whispering in a language only she could understand.
Quietly, she chanted under her breath, an incantation that slithered like serpents from her lips. Dark magic coiled around the flower, smothering its light, drowning it in shadow. With her other hand, she plucked a nearby blossom weakened by her corruption, triumphant in her deceit.
"There. I've completed my task first, as always. No consolation for the weak."
Her eyes snapped toward Huo Feng—malicious, triumphant—but Huo Feng didn't notice. Her gaze was elsewhere, upon the roots of Hui Lin, which trembled as if the tree itself felt betrayal pierce its heart. A soft, sorrowful wail rose from the branches, a song of grief that seeped into the hearts of all who stood there.
Huo Feng's chest tightened. The ache of the tree resonated in her soul, a piercing, tender pain. Tears welled in her eyes and spilled freely, streaking down her cheeks like tiny rivers of mourning.
She stepped forward, each footfall silent and reverent. Her hands brushed the bark of the trunk, cool and smooth, her lips pressing gently against it in a kiss tender as forgiveness. Her tears fell onto the roots of Hui Lin, and with every droplet, warmth returned. Light bloomed again in the crystal petals, soft pinks and ivories bathing the scene in reborn life.
The tree trembled, alive with joy, as though freed from centuries of sorrow by a single embrace.
An ancient, calm voice flowed through the branches, full of wisdom and gratitude:
"Old friend… You have restored trust to my heart. I bloom again. Child of the Wind… what is your wish?"
Huo Feng inhaled, steadying herself. She lifted a trembling hand to one of the crystal leaves, voice soft but steady:
"I left my friends behind during the battle in the Beast Realm… and guilt has weighed on me ever since. I want to apologize. Grant me twelve flowers—a token of that apology."
The blossoms swayed, understanding her plea. One by one, twelve petals rose into the air, suspended between heaven and earth, whispering the names of their rightful owners. Ten disciples stepped forward, eyes wide with awe and gratitude as they received their blossoms.
Two remained, hovering gently. Huo Feng caught one, her tone teasing yet warm:
"This one is for you, Master Li."
Her gaze softened as she reached for the final blossom and turned to Wu Xin, heart fluttering like wind over water:
"And this one… for you, Master Wu Xin."
Master Li's smile radiated like sunlight on morning dew, bright and pure. But Wu Xin remained silent, heart caught in a tangle of envy and longing. The crimson glow of his flower mirrored his turmoil. He turned away, unable to meet the warmth shared between Huo Feng and Master Li.
Before the moment could breathe, Mei's venomous voice pierced the air:
"You failed, Huo Feng. You didn't get a flower of your own."
Suo stepped forward without hesitation, his hand extending in warmth and sincerity:
"Then take mine," he said softly.
Huo Feng blinked, startled, then laughed—a soft, airy sound that carried through the courtyard like a ripple of joy. She pinched Suo's cheek playfully.
"And since when are gifts given twice, silly boy?"
She lifted her hand, and from the branches above, a glowing twig descended, carrying more than fifty translucent flowers that shimmered like stars against the dim light of the Shadow Realm. Time itself seemed to still as she lifted it, cradling the radiant branch in her palms with reverent awe.
And in that moment, as the sacred tree bloomed within her hands, destiny whispered quietly: the heir of the Celestial Furnace, bearer of ruin and flame, had been touched once more by the blessing of life. Between ash and blossom, destruction and creation, Huo Feng's true trial began—the eternal balance between the power to end and the power to begin anew.