The moment the golden elixir fell into Bai Shuo's hands, morning broke over the mountain. The first ray of sunlight pushed through the peaks, birds lifted from the trees, and the nameless mountain exhaled — as if something long held had finally been released.
Everyone stood before the three unnamed graves and said nothing.
Then a hand reached out and took the elixir from her palm. Fan Yue stepped sideways between Bai Shuo and Nan Wan, his eyes locked on the latter. "What are you thinking?"
Nan Wan met his stare with a frown. "Have you forgotten why we came to this city? The elixir's curse is broken. No one knows where the Wutong Tree Heart is. I was going to see if there was a clue inside it."
After the night they had all just survived, only Nan Wan had kept his head.
Bai Shuo turned the elixir over in her fingers, thinking aloud. "Jin Yao hid the sycamore heart inside the nameless tomb so that those who came here would dissolve the resentment trapped in the elixir. If the resentment is gone, the tree heart should reveal itself now..."
A beam of morning light fell across the elixir in her palm. Gold erupted from it and struck the hillside behind the tombs. Ten meters back, the fog pulled apart like a curtain, and a stone tomb appeared where there had been nothing.
They had fought across this mountain all night and never found it. The barrier had held it hidden. Only the elixir's resentment extinguished could open the way.
This was where the sycamore tree heart was truly buried.
Nan Wan was already moving. His sword was out before anyone else could react, and he drove a strike into the stone gate. It didn't move.
Mu Jiu, right behind him, burst out laughing. "Nan Wan, your Yunxiao really does train well. First to fight, first to steal. Both times, nothing."
Nan Wan's expression curdled. He had spent a whole cursed night in this place and couldn't even get through the door.
"If I can't get in, you can?"
Mu Jiu circled the gate, tapped his chin. "The elixir resentment is gone. By any logic we've passed Jin Yao's first trial. Bai girl — come look at this gate. Something strange about it?"
The fox half-fairy had a sharper mind than any of them. The blacksmith might hit hardest, but Mu Jiu thought fastest.
Bai Shuo stepped close and studied the carving on the stone door. "What do you all see here?"
They looked. A man stood at the peak of a mountain, sword raised toward the sky, clouds drifting below him. Behind him, a nine-tailed fox totem.
"A fox totem?" Mu Jiu's brow went up.
"That mountain..." Beichen spoke slowly.
"Kunlun?" Bai Shuo asked.
Beichen nodded. "Yes."
Bai Shuo clapped her hands together. "I understand. This relief shows both the Kunlun crest and the fox tribe totem. Maybe they have to open it together. Beichen Shangjun — would you and His Highness Mu Jiu try?"
"Who wants anything to do with Kunlun?" Mu Jiu's arms folded, chin in the air, the picture of someone utterly unmoved.
Beichen said, flatly, "I came to this city for Rongxian. She has passed on. The sycamore heart is no longer my concern." He turned to leave.
"Beichen Shangjun—" He was already walking, and Bai Shuo stood there, dumbfounded. She had not worked all night to leave empty-handed.
Before she could say another word, Nan Wan stepped forward and blocked Beichen's path.
"Brother Beichen. We are all here as one under the same sky. This martial banquet is not just a contest — it will decide the balance between immortals and demons for a hundred years to come, over the blessed lands and cavern realms that both clans claim. Whatever our differences, we owe everything to this banquet. You should not walk away now."
He said it straight, and he meant it. Even honest disciples from Yunxiao could draw blood when they needed to.
Bai Shuo raised an eyebrow.
Beichen stopped.
She leaned toward Mu Jiu and dropped her voice. "Little Highness, let's go in first. Nan Wan is right — we're here for the tree heart. With your skill, you won't fall behind Beichen or Nan Wan. Three Wutong heart fires. Imagine it. Death Wheel in your left hand, Wutong Sword in your right. Who in all three realms would touch you?"
Mu Jiu wavered — then looked at her sideways, up and down. "Brother, I'm not blind. You're an immortal."
Bai Shuo bumped his shoulder. "Since when are immortals and demons not the same family?"
Mu Jiu studied her. She was obviously divine-born, but her mind ran in too many colors to read. The young men beside her — the blacksmith especially — carried something in their breath that sat between immortal and demon, their origins impossible to place. Mu Jiu had always liked trouble, and the more he looked at Bai Shuo, the more his interest sharpened. Besides, two first-grade magic tools was not a small temptation.
He tilted his chin toward Beichen. "Northerner. A hundred years between martial banquets. The immortal and demon clans finally stand in the same place. If you go home with nothing, you'll be ashamed. And I'll be ashamed. Let's at least try."
Beichen's face was blank. He said nothing. He simply turned back toward the totem and drew his sword.
Mu Jiu let his grin fall away. The Death Wheel appeared in his palm.
They leapt at the same time. White light poured from the Kunlun iron sword. Red from the Death Wheel. The two spiritual powers hit the stone wall together and brilliant light flashed through the gorge, the power of immortal and demon falling as one. The barrier broke. The tomb gate opened. A stone staircase descended into darkness.
Bai Shuo's eyes lit up. "It's open!"
Mu Jiu stepped past Nan Wan before he could think about it and jumped down first. No one hesitated. They followed.
The tomb below was carved directly from bedrock, nothing ornate, nothing hidden. Still water ran beneath it. A hundred steps down, there was a single stone chamber.
In the center of the chamber, a sycamore heart fire burned in silence.
Mu Jiu stared at it, jaw loose.
The spiritual power radiating off the flame was pure — startlingly pure. But as they moved closer, they all felt something unexpected. The spiritual formation that had been locked around the flame was loosening. It had suppressed a former emperor's divine law inside a magic weapon's body, and now it was coming undone — not breaking, just releasing.
If something like this could hold back Twilight's divine law, it deserved to be called a sacred object of the Phoenix Clan.
You wouldn't even need to refine a sword with it. Keeping it nearby while you cultivated would carry you further than most could reach in a lifetime.
Fire entered everyone's eyes. Even Hua Hong, who showed little, glanced up. Only Fan Yue did not.
Bai Shuo's eyes shone. She was the only person in this tomb who could not sense spiritual power directly, but she had eyes, and she knew treasure when she saw it.
Fat water didn't flow into strangers' fields. This was going to Ah Zhao.
Everyone was still thinking their own thoughts when the heart fire suddenly flared — and split in two.
Mu Jiu stumbled back in reflex. He had been frightened too many times tonight. "What's happening?"
No one spoke. Then Bai Shuo said slowly, "Have you noticed how long all of this has taken? How hard the first heart fire was to reach?"
Mu Jiu touched his chin. "True. The guardian of the first fire was a peak-level Shangjun. Just a golden elixir, but it nearly dropped all of us. Three heart fires, three days in a foreign city — the difficulty scales the same way."
"So this mountain held two trials. The first was breaking Rongxian's resentment. The second was getting immortals and demons to open that gate together."
Bai Shuo looked up at the staircase above.
"That's the second trial?" Nan Wan frowned. "Just opening a door?"
"Nothing simple about it." She spread her hands. "Immortal and demon children working in true cooperation — when has that happened in the last ten thousand years? Only His Majesty Chu Fengran and the Demon Lord Changqin ever managed it."
It was true. Generations of divine effort had held the two clans back from open war, but it was surface calm over deep current, competition in shadow even in peace. Jin Yao had been shaped by Twilight, inspired by Fengran. Erasing the resentment between the clans was the work of his life. It was no surprise he'd built that test into the Wutong Martial Banquet.
On Wutong Island, in Qifeng Pavilion, Elder Fengxian watched the water mirror with his beard in his fingers.
"I never expected a disciple that quick among this generation. Rongxian's disaster turned because this girl read the moment and guided both Beichen and the fox prince. What a pity..." He exhaled. "Her immortal bones are too weak for the Great Dao. She'll barely reach a hundred years."
Jin Yao looked regretful. "No immortal connection, true. But she has the mind for it. After this, I intend to bring her into the Heavenly Palace as a clerk. Nourished by the spiritual energy of the Nine Heavens, a connection may yet come."
Fengxian nodded approval, then turned. "Which sect's child do you think wins the banquet?"
Jin Yao's gaze passed over Beichen, Nan Wan, Mu Jiu, and settled — just slightly — on Chong Zhao.
"Kunlun cultivates the Pure and Quiet Way. Yunxiao is too focused on winning. The fox clan is quick but lacks magnanimity. This one — seemingly ordinary, but steady and contained. He held his own against Rongxian's golden elixir. His immortal power is not below Beichen's."
Fengxian agreed. "No sect has produced anyone like him that I can recall."
"Piao Miao."
Fengxian was startled. "Piao Miao? They have been in decline for a century. Not even a Shangjun born in all that time. And yet they raised this child?"
"Piao Miao was once one of the Six Prefectures of the immortal sect. Since Taoist Lingbo faded, so did they. This banquet is their opportunity. With this son, they could return to the Six Prefectures within a hundred years." Jin Yao stroked his beard and smiled.
Fengxian agreed — then noticed Jin Yao's eyes shift to the young man beside Bai Shuo. "Does the Palm Holder have questions about this one?"
Jin Yao looked at her. "Don't you, Elder?"
Fengxian smiled. "I see nothing clear about that young man. And if you can't see clearly either, we let it be."
"I still need to account for the leaders of the various sects. The immortal children are all inside another city."
Fengxian looked at Hua Hong in the mirror. "You may not have heard — the King of the Other City has a daughter. She drew the Sword of the Other King at eighteen. Born with divine power, a thing almost unheard of."
Jin Yao nodded slowly. "I had heard. I once thought he would name her successor. Then something happened. She was expelled from the city years ago. That blacksmith with the strange origins..."
"Born with divine power, unbound by the spirit-locking formation. She is an outlier by nature." Fengxian studied the mirror. "That would make her the little lady."
"If she is the princess of a foreign city, why is she hiding among these children? The tree heart holds little appeal for someone who can fight at Shangjun's peak. So why return now?" Jin Yao was troubled.
Fengxian picked up a chess piece and placed it on the board. "A few years ago, the princess was seen in the demon clan's far north — ice and snow realm — taking down a snow leopard with a single staff strike. After that, no word of her anywhere in the three realms."
"The far north. A staff for a magic weapon..." Jin Yao stared at Fengxian. "Haoyue Palace! Are you saying the princess came from Haoyue Hall?"
"Have you heard of the two generals at the main hall's gate?"
"Zhenshan. Tianhuo." Jin Yao's voice dropped. "She's the Heavenly Fire Demon?"
In ten years, Haoyue Hall had risen in the demon world to stand on equal footing with Lengquan and Jingyou — not just because of Fan Yue, who stood near-demigod, but because of two generals who had gathered to him. No one knew their origins. Their demon power ran deep. Both used staves. Zhenshan had split the gates of life and death at Sanchongtian with a single swing. Tianhuo had earned her name by breaking the twelve envoys of Lengquan Palace, more than half with her own hands. Decisive, cold, merciless. She was half the spine of Haoyue Hall.
Both were absolutely loyal to Fan Yue.
She had appeared in a foreign city. Which meant that boy—
"Could that boy be...?"
Jin Yao's expression darkened. He was about to rise when Elder Fengxian held him down.
"Steady." Fengxian shook his head. "The Lord of Haoyue Palace is near-demigod. If he wanted to harm these children, he would not circle around like this."
Jin Yao steadied himself. He was responsible for the immortal clan, and even he had felt his composure shake at the sight of a young man's face. He smiled bitterly. "You're right. Both clans are relatively quiet now. A near-demigod would not move against children — that would be moving against the whole immortal clan. He is not reckless. But then why come to this city?"
"Even I cannot guess the Lord of Haoyue's intentions. In his position, there is nothing in a foreign city worth the effort. The banquet ends tomorrow. Haoyue Palace has been invited to Wutong Island. He will appear when the Wutong instruments are granted. Ask him then."
Jin Yao nodded. "That will have to do."
"They have passed the first two trials. Where did the Palm Holder conceal the third heart fire?"
Jin Yao smiled. "There is no third heart fire hidden in this mountain."
"Oh?"
"This banquet was always meant to bring the foreign city back into the light of day — to let the foreign races walk freely in the three realms again. That is the wish of the King of the Other City and of this throne. So the last heart fire is scattered over the city itself. We agreed: if the immortal and demon children can quiet Rongxian's resentment and return the golden elixir to the king, the people of the city will gather and summon the final heart fire together. They will choose the winner of the banquet among themselves."
Fengxian went quiet, then remembered Chong Zhao pulling a foreign child to safety in the city's streets. "He showed kindness to their people. They will give him the third heart fire without hesitation. So the conclusion was already drawn in your mind before the banquet began."
Jin Yao dipped his head. "He holds a fair and open heart toward all beings in the three realms. He deserves all three."
They smiled at each other. Jin Yao waved his hand and the water mirror dissolved.
In the westernmost attic of Feng Island, Zhen Yu watched the stone chamber in his own mirror, a quiet smile at the corner of his mouth.
Poria stood beside him, eyes fixed on Chong Zhao.
Zhen Yu glanced at her. "You know that immortal boy?"
Poria kept her face still. "What does the Palace Master think of him?"
"Excellent immortal bones. Steady Taoist heart. A person of rare quality." He paused. "You want to use him?"
"Yes."
Zhen Yu raised an eyebrow. "He is not from a pliable sect. His Taoist heart is firm and he is about to inherit Piao Miao's mantle. Getting him to abandon the immortal path and turn demon — I doubt that's possible."
"Men like Zhesang only muddy stagnant water. This one could build something true for Lengquan Palace. Haoyue Hall is impossible to crack from the outside. The fox clan is too layered to read. If the Palace Master wants to lead the demon clan, this is the kind of talent that makes it possible."
Zhen Yu was surprised. "You have some history with him, to value him this much. But I'm afraid the matter will be difficult—"
Poria blinked. "What does the Palace Master mean?"
Something unreadable moved through Zhen Yu's eyes.
"Do you really think a simple martial banquet is worth visiting Feng Island in person? Think about it. Why hold the Wutong Banquet in a foreign city? Why did Fan Yue appear here?"
Poria's head snapped toward the water mirror. Zhen Yu lifted a hand, and the mirror vanished.
She turned it over. "Has the King of the Other City joined hands with the Palace Master?"
"Yes. I have been arranging this for several years. This city is where I intend to bury the Lord of Haoyue Palace." Zhen Yu said it the way someone might remark on the weather.
Poria's heart dropped. She had known something was wrong about this city from the moment they arrived. She had not known how wrong.
"Palace Master — even if the king surrenders, Fan Yue is near-demigod. Your subordinates may not be enough. Let me enter the city and—"
Zhen Yu looked at her. Just looked. One corner of his eye held something like contempt.
Poria shut her mouth and knelt.
"A subordinate speaks out of turn. The Palace Master has prepared everything. Nothing will go wrong."
"After tomorrow, no one leaves this city."
He walked toward her.
Poria felt his hand settle on her shoulder, and her chest went cold.
"But I give you my word. If the situation inside the city becomes uncertain — if that boy walks out of the other city alive — I will do whatever it takes to bring him to Lengquan."
His voice was quiet. Almost gentle.
Poria knelt with her head down and did not speak.