The imperial capital had grown restless.
News had reached the inner court that Crown Prince Longxuan had vanished without a trace. No letter. No guards. No Fenglie. Nothing. The only thing left behind was a cold teacup and a half-folded court document. He was gone. And in his absence, rumors began to churn like mud-stirred waters.
Jiang Fenglie, the Crown Prince's ever-loyal right-hand man, stood before the Emperor with tension lacing his every movement.
"He didn't tell me, Your Majesty. I failed in my duties," Fenglie said, bowing low.
The Emperor rubbed his temples, the weight of the empire on his brow. "Find him. Bring him back, safe and silent. Before the ministers stir further."
With the Emperor's reluctant blessing, Fenglie left the palace that very afternoon, sword at his side, face darkened with urgency.
Meanwhile, miles away, the Liu Twins—Zhenhai and Fenglan—rode along a dirt path that led past amber rice fields and sleepy hills. The early sun bathed everything in gold. Fenglan yawned on horseback.
"I still don't get why Auntie Ruyan can't just send a messenger hawk," he grumbled.
Zhenhai rolled his eyes. "Because the village has no name and no signal markers, idiot. No one knows it exists unless you're told where it is."
Fenglan muttered, "Then why send us?"
Zhenhai smirked. "Because you're annoying and expendable."
Before Fenglan could retort, a loud voice called out from across the hill.
"Zhenhai! Fenglan!"
The two froze. That voice was unmistakable.
"Fenglie?" they chorused, twisting their heads.
And sure enough, atop a bay-colored steed was Jiang Fenglie, looking as irritable and sunburnt as ever.
"You two!" he barked. "Why are you this far from Yunxiao Sect?"
Zhenhai blinked. "We could ask you the same, Captain Loyal Shadow."
Fenglie sighed. "The Crown Prince has disappeared. I received imperial permission to search for him quietly."
"WHAT?!" Fenglan nearly fell off his horse.
Zhenhai whistled low. "Your job's on the line, huh?"
Fenglie glared. "And where exactly are you two headed?"
The twins exchanged a glance.
"We were sent by Sect Leader Ruyan," Zhenhai said. "To deliver a private message to a small fishing village near the sea. No official name, barely a dot on the map. Heard it's peaceful and weirdly hard to find."
Fenglie's brow arched. "A fishing village?"
"Yeah."
"...That's where I'm going too."
A beat of silence.
Fenglan pointed. "Are we in a weird fate loop or something?"
"Shut up," both Zhenhai and Fenglie snapped.
By late evening, the trio arrived at the edge of the sea. A salty breeze kissed their faces, and they stood at the crest of a small hill, looking down into the village. Lights flickered gently in windows. Children's laughter echoed in the distance. Fishermen carried baskets of the day's catch, and the scent of grilled shellfish filled the air.
"It's too... ordinary," Fenglan muttered. "Almost fake."
"Creepy," Zhenhai agreed. "Like one of those illusion towns."
"It's not an illusion, idiot," Fenglie said. "But something's off."
They entered the village with cautious steps, eventually finding a humble inn tucked between a flower shop and a blacksmith's forge. The innkeeper—a chubby woman with laugh lines and suspiciously sharp eyes—greeted them warmly.
"Travelers? Rare to see outsiders. What brings you here?"
"Private matters," Fenglan said smoothly, flashing a silver tael. "Three rooms, if available."
The woman counted keys, then grinned. "Three rooms it is. Welcome to our little end of the world."
As the trio settled in, they remained unaware that their path was about to cross with two men—one a Crown Prince, the other a forgotten devil reborn.
.
.
.
And somewhere beyond the village, hidden beneath layers of charm and false drunkenness, Mo Tianzun stirred in the darkness, wondering how long he could stay hidden now that shadows from the past had begun to stir.