That night, while the village slept beneath a soft moonlight,Huo Feng sat beside little Shu Shu's bed, her eyes lost in thought.
The child had drifted into dreams, clutching an old wooden doll.Around her tiny wrist, a thin thread of shimmering blue silk glowed faintly —pulsing, almost breathing.
Huo Feng reached out, her fingers brushing the thread ever so gently…and suddenly, a strange feeling washed over her.
A memory — distant yet vivid — spilled into her mind:a young dancer twirling beneath the lanterns of the Flower House, laughter echoing in the air,and her own hand — Huo Feng's hand — tying that same blue thread around the dancer's wrist.
She had smiled back then, saying softly:
"This thread is my gift to you… a charm to keep darkness away from your heart."
Her breath caught.She pulled her hand back, eyes wide.
"This… this is my thread! I gave it to that dancer— only days ago!"
But in the realms of heaven, time did not flow as it did on earth.What was days to her… had been generations here.The dancer's descendants had passed it down —until it found its way to Shu Shu.
As Huo Feng leaned closer, she froze.A thin, black smoke rose from the child's chest — thick, venomous, suffocating.It was hatred.
Yet with every soft breath Shu Shu exhaled,the blue thread shimmered brighter,and the darkness melted away, fading into pale light before vanishing beneath her pillow.
Then Huo Feng understood.
Had it not been for the thread,the black seed of hatred would have appeared beneath the pillow —her secret exposed, her innocence shattered,her name forever stained in this pure white village.
Huo Feng stared at the child, torn between pity and fear.A storm raged within her:
Should I take it?If I steal the thread, her truth will be revealed… but isn't that the purpose of the trial?Yet if I leave it, am I not lying to the test itself?
Her lips trembled, her hand hovering in the air.
"If I take it, I'll be the cause of her pain…But if I don't — I'll be betraying the truth."
She bit her lip hard.Her eyes filled with confusion — like a lost child standing at a crossroads.
And then the vision came.
She saw Shu Shu, the same little girl, standing in a vast field of black flowers.Their petals closed around her, whispering softly as they began to consume her.But the child's face held no fear, no sorrow — only a strange calm… perhaps even a faint smile.
The sight tore through Huo Feng's heart — until a piercing gaze broke the illusion.
She turned sharply —Wu Xin stood at the window, cloaked in shadow.He didn't speak. He didn't need to.His eyes were command enough:
Follow me.
Before she could respond, he rose into the night sky.She followed silently, the air trembling around her wings of light.
They flew over the sleeping village, roofs glimmering like pearls in the mist,until they landed before another house — its garden pure white, glowing faintly under the moon.
From within came the gentle murmurs of sleeping children.
Wu Xin's voice, low and calm, rippled through the silence:
"Look closely, Huo Feng.Here lies the answer you're searching for."
She stepped closer, peering through the wooden frame.Inside, a weary woman slept among several children — orphans, judging by their torn clothes and tender closeness.She held them as a bird shelters her chicks beneath tired wings.
Huo Feng's gaze softened… until she saw it.A gray seed pulsed faintly beneath the woman's pillow.
She gasped —but before she could speak, the children stirred.
They woke one by one, as though called by an invisible whisper.Barefoot, they gathered in silence around their sleeping mother.
The eldest reached beneath her pillow and drew out the seed.They formed a small circle around it, hands trembling, eyes wide with love.Then, in voices barely above a breath, they prayed:
"Dear Lord of the Earth… please don't shame her.She steals for us — not for herself.Let her seed be white, as we see her with our hearts.For her love… make it pure."
Their voices quivered,but the light that escaped their lips was steady — soft yet unyielding.
Before their eyes, the gray cracked open.A pure white glow blossomed from within, washing the room in warmth.The seed turned radiant, spotless — cleansed by love alone.
When morning came, the mother awoke and found her seed gleaming in her hands.Her tears fell upon it like dew.For the first time in years, she smiled without guilt.
She never knew what her children had done.
Outside, Huo Feng stood motionless, overwhelmed.Her voice trembled:
"So… it's not only actions that take root…but also the hearts that love us."
Wu Xin, silent until then, finally spoke — his tone grave yet tender:
"Now you see.Purity is not born from perfection… but from compassion.Even sin, when wrapped in love, may bloom white."