The sun had barely begun to peek over the horizon, tinting the sky a pale violet, when Wei Yao arrived at the bamboo clearing. The morning air was cold and smelled of damp earth. She arrived punctually, as always; discipline was her armor. She carried a bamboo basket with hot tea and a generous portion of freshly baked osmanthus cakes, still warm to the touch.
Wei Feng was already there, a dark silhouette seated on the same rock as the day before, his eyes closed in apparent meditation. The silence in the clearing was absolute, a sanctuary isolated from the bustle of the awakening palace.
When she approached, he opened his eyes. There was no trace of the previous day's laziness or mockery. His gaze was serious, focused—that of a master evaluating his disciple.
"You're on time," he said, his voice calm. "Good. Punctuality is the courtesy of kings… and of those who aspire to be."
She set the basket at his feet and sat on the rock across from him in a lotus position, ready to receive his instructions. She expected a lesson on channeling Qi, a demonstration of sword stances, perhaps an analysis of the Golden Sword Sect's techniques.
He did none of that. He simply watched her, and under his intense gaze, she felt as if he could see straight through her skin and muscles, down to the very bottom of her soul.
"Yesterday," he began, his tone grave, "I showed you that your control over Qi, while precise, is inefficient. It's like a child using a war hammer to drive a needle. Today, we are going to address a more fundamental problem."
He paused, letting his words settle in the cold air.
"Today, I am going to show you that your primary weapon, the pride and joy of our clan, is actually the golden cage that keeps you from flying. Your Imperial Dragon Decree… is holding you back."
The declaration was so blasphemous, so heretical, that a shiver ran down Wei Yao's spine.
"That's impossible," she retorted, her voice defensive. "It is the source of my power. It is the legacy of our first ancestor. It is what defines me."
"No," he interrupted, his voice soft yet sharp as obsidian. "It is the legacy of a dead man. A borrowed power that resonates with your blood, yes, but not with your soul. It was imposed upon you before you had the chance to know who you were. Before you can sculpt your own masterpiece, we must put the ancestor's statue in storage."
He stood up and walked toward her.
"Trust me, Yao'er. Turn around."
Her mind was a whirlwind. To seal the Founder's Decree was unthinkable, a betrayal of everything she had been taught. But the memory of the previous lesson, the simple, overwhelming truth of his words, and the strange, unshakeable trust she had placed in him, compelled her to obey. With her heart hammering against her ribs, she stood and turned her back to him.
"Take off your outer robe," he ordered in a low voice.
She did, her fingers trembling slightly as she untied the sashes. The fabric slid from her shoulders, leaving her bare back to the cool morning air. She felt goosebumps rise on her arms.
He placed his palm on the center of her back, right over her spine. His touch was not intimate or lewd; it was that of an artisan, precise and purposeful. And then, she felt the power.
A deep, penetrating warmth emanated from his hand, an energy completely different from that of her own cold, majestic dragon. It was his Decree, the Resonant Touch, flowing into her.
Inside her Soul Palace, Wei Yao felt her Dragon roar. It was an ancient, arrogant fury, the will of a dead emperor rebelling against the intrusion of a foreign power. Her dragon's silver light erupted within her, fighting against the invasion.
But then, she felt Wei Feng's true power. It was not a force that crashed against the dragon, nor a hammer trying to break a wall. It was something far more vast, more fundamental. It was as if a dark, silent, infinite ocean simply rose up and enveloped the furious dragon of light. His power did not fight; it simply was. It did not destroy it: it soothed it, lulled it, wrapping it in layer after layer of a silent, profound law, like the finest silk wrapping a sharp blade.
The dragon's roar in her soul became a murmur, and then silence.
For the first time in her life, she felt… silence. The arrogant, heavy dragon that had always resided at her core, the constant pressure of its power, had been caged. A tremor of shock ran through her body. She felt a terrifying void where power had once been, and at the same time, an incredible, almost dizzying lightness. She was free.
He removed his hand. The sudden absence of his warmth made her stagger. She turned to face him, her golden eyes filled with absolute disbelief.
"What… what have you done?" she whispered, her voice trembling. "I thought… I thought it was impossible. That the Dragon Decree would not allow any other power…"
"The dragon is not gone," he reassured her, sitting down again. "It is merely sleeping, wrapped in a deep dream. It will not bother you."
He looked at her with an intensity that seemed to baren her more than the lack of her robe.
"You have a blank canvas now, Yao'er. And with it comes the most important and terrifying question a cultivator can ever ask themselves: who are you, when no one is telling you who you're supposed to be?"
Wei Yao was speechless. The question was so simple, and yet so overwhelmingly complex, she didn't know where to begin. He seemed to read her confusion.
"Forget the empire," he said softly. "Forget your father and his expectations. Forget even your annoying, drunken uncle. For a moment, forget everything and everyone. And answer me this: what do you enjoy? What makes your heart race, not from duty, but from pure joy? What makes your soul sing?"
"I… I don't know," she admitted, feeling like a small child.
"Think," he urged her. "Is it the thrill of battle? The feel of steel in your hand, the dance of life and death? Or is it the calm of meditation, the sensation of Qi flowing in perfect harmony? Is it the silent beauty of a morning like this, or the crackling fury of a summer storm? There are no right or wrong answers. There is only your truth."
Wei Yao closed her eyes, forcing herself to search within the new silence of her soul. And there, without the dragon's roar to drown them out, she found feelings and desires she had long suppressed.
"I…" she began, her voice hesitant, "I have always had to be the Jade Princess. Serene. Controlled. Cold. Every emotion was a weakness. Every passion, a flaw to be purged."
"But inside…" she continued, opening up to him as she never had with anyone, "inside, especially when I am with you… I feel… a storm. A storm of passions. Anger. Joy. Desire. I feel like I could burn the world down or freeze it solid. I love the feeling of unleashed power, the sensation of being on the edge of control… but I also long for peace. The calm. The silence I feel right now."
She opened her eyes.
"I am both, Master. I am the storm and the calm it longs for. How can I be both?"
Wei Feng listened patiently, his expression serious and attentive. When she finished confessing her duality, a slow smile spread across his face.
"Then why choose?" he asked, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
She looked at him, confused.
"The dragon is controlled fury," he explained. "The Jade Princess is frozen calm. They are two sides of the same coin. You have spent your whole life trying to be one or repressing the other. Why not be both?"
He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
"You are not the ice or the fire, Yao'er. You are not the storm or the calm. You are the silent center that contains them both. You are the Eye of the Storm."
The epiphany struck her with the force of a divine revelation. The Eye of the Storm. The words resonated in the core of her being, a truth so perfect she wondered how she had never seen it before. Her true path was not to reject passion for duty, but to accept it all. To contain it all. To be the perfect balance at the center of her own power.
"Meditate," he instructed, pulling her from her trance. "Put on your robe. The body must be comfortable for the soul to fly. And then, meditate. Don't think of a dragon. Think of yourself. Of the silent, powerful center of your own hurricane."
She obeyed. She dressed and sat down again, closing her eyes. She began to channel her Qi, but in a completely new way. She no longer forced it into the dragon's patterns; she simply let it be, guided by her new understanding.
The air in the clearing began to change. A soft wind began to blow, swirling around her. The bamboo leaves lifted from the ground, dancing in a violent, silent whirlwind that encircled her. But in the immediate circle where she sat, everything remained calm. Motionless.
And then, a new power was born in her chest. It was not the arrogant, silver light of the dragon, but a deep and serene jade-green light. It took the form of a perfect, fist-sized sphere that floated before her chest, emanating absolute calm and control. That was the Eye. Around this sphere, invisible winds, charged with a wild power, roared, making the bamboo trunks creak. That was the Storm.
She had inscribed her own Decree: the Decree of the Jade Eye of the Storm.
Wei Feng watched the manifestation, and an expression of pure pride lit up his face. It was the look of a master watching his student not only learn the lesson, but transcend it.
"Ah…" he sighed, his voice filled with a deep satisfaction. "There it is. It is not an ancestor's legacy. It is not an empire's duty. It is yours."
He drew closer and, with an almost imperceptible bow, his finger grazed the jade sphere. The power it contained was immense—tranquil, yet terrifying.
"It is beautiful, Yao'er. And believe me, it is far more dangerous than a simple dragon. Well done… disciple."
She opened her eyes, which now shone with a new light. She looked at him, and the tears that formed were not of confusion, but of pure gratitude. He hadn't just given her a lesson in cultivation; he had given her the greatest gift of all: herself. The love and devotion she felt for him in that moment were absolute.
The solemn atmosphere shattered when a roguish smile appeared on Wei Feng's face.
"Forging such a magnificent Decree," he said, his tone turning light, "deserves a celebration. A real one. Not some boring banquet with the same pompous nobles, talking politics and eating dry duck."
He rummaged inside his robe and pulled out the polished silver invitation card that Fatty Meng had given him. It shone with a faint light in the dawn sun.
"You see, I have plans for tonight," he continued in a conspiratorial whisper. "A small, discreet gathering of… connoisseurs. Ancient treasures will be auctioned, elegant lies will be told, and most importantly, they will be serving a wine that hasn't touched the air in a thousand years."
He held out the silver invitation. The metal felt cold and heavy in her hand.
"I want you to come with me," he said, his gaze turning intense. "But you can't go as Princess Wei Yao. The princess has too many duties and draws too many eyes. Tonight, I want you to come as… simply Yao'er."
He looked at her, his smile widening.
"With a mask. No one will know who you are. It will be our little secret."
He leaned in, bringing his face close to hers, his voice a hoarse, intimate whisper that raised the hair on her skin and sent a delicious shiver down her spine.
"Consider it a date. My way."
Before she could form a response, he closed the distance between them, and his mouth claimed hers in a deep, possessive kiss, filled with the promise of a forbidden adventure. It was not the kiss of an uncle to his niece. It was a kiss that marked, that claimed, that invited her into a world of shadows and pleasures she could barely imagine.
He broke the kiss as quickly as he had started it, leaving her breathless, her heart hammering against her ribs, the cold silver invitation in her hand.
"Wear something dark," he told her, his tone now that of a co-conspirator. "Something that won't draw attention. And something that's easy to remove. I will collect you from your chambers after midnight, when ghosts and lovers come out to play."
He winked.
"And don't eat the pastries at dinner. We'll save our appetites… for the adventure."
With that, he turned and disappeared into the bamboo as silently as he had arrived, leaving Wei Yao alone in the clearing. She sat in the middle of her new, controlled storm, holding the silver key to her first night of true freedom, her mind spinning with a mixture of absolute terror and an exhilaration so electric it nearly made her levitate.