Night fell like ink poured across the heavens. Moonlight spilled between the thick bamboo, creating rippling pools of silver on the moss-covered ground. The breeze drifted through the forest, carrying with it the whisper of rustling leaves—soft, hushed, like the murmurs of spirits hidden in the stalks.
Yao Yi walked barefoot on the damp earth. Each step was light, silent, yet heavy with the weight of uncertainty. At his waist, the ancient mirror pulsed faintly, warm against his side, as if aware of the strangeness ahead.
"Midnight. Come alone. Bamboo Grove."
That was all the message had said. A personal directive from Elder Silvermoon, with no further instruction, no seal, and no explanation.
The forest deepened. The bamboo grew taller, denser, blocking out the moonlight bit by bit. A natural corridor formed around him, veiled in darkness and silence.
After a long walk, a figure appeared, standing quietly atop a moss-covered stone.
She was dressed in the robes of an inner sect disciple, but hers shimmered faintly at the hem, embroidered with threads of silver. Her white hair flowed freely over her shoulders, and her silver eyes—calm, unreadable—rested on Yao Yi as he stopped.
"You are the one Elder Silvermoon spoke of?" he asked.
The girl nodded. "Ling Yue."
Her voice was like water over cold stone—clear, smooth, without warmth.
"You're here for a test. But also, a warning."
"A warning?" Yao Yi frowned. "I just entered the inner sect."
Ling Yue's gaze pierced into him, sharp and cold. "You passed the trial by defeating three Qi Sea disciples while in the early Spirit Spring realm. That alone is enough to draw eyes. And suspicion."
"So the sect sent you?"
"Not the sect," she said softly. "Him."
She looked up at the sky.
Yao Yi followed her gaze. Above, hidden in the blackness, a single raven circled the treetops. Its curved beak gleamed with something sticky and dark, like molten gold.
"They know about your father's bloodline," she said.
She pulled out a small strip of parchment. Blood-stained, the surface marred by claw marks. His name was written in dried crimson ink. In the center, a symbol.
The Ten Sun emblem—broken at one corner.
Yao Yi's heart skipped. "Where did this come from?"
"It was nailed to an old tree just outside the forest. A silver pin held it in place. When our scouts found it, the raven was still there."
Her eyes moved to the mirror at his waist. "That mirror—it's what they're searching for."
"They?"
Instead of answering, she waved a hand through the air. A ripple of light shimmered, forming a subtle ward of energy.
"Someone sent intruders to test your strength. I came first, to give you a chance to survive."
The wind shifted. The scent of blood wafted through the grove.
From the shadows, four masked figures emerged. Their robes were dark, unmarked. Their movements silent, but their presence heavy. Yao Yi sensed it instantly—their strength. All four were at least late-stage Spirit Spring, and the one at the front? On the cusp of Qi Sea.
Yao Yi's breath tightened. "A group assault?"
Ling Yue gave a faint smile. "The bloodline of the Ten Suns must endure tenfold trials."
With that, she vanished into the canopy, leaving him alone.
The first assailant charged, blade flashing. Yao Yi twisted aside, swiping a palm across the man's chest, sending him stumbling back. Before he could recover, the second attacker struck—a chain whip crackled through the air like a striking serpent.
Yao Yi ducked low, rolled beneath it, and came up behind the wielder, elbowing the man's spine. But already, the third one was chanting, a ribbon of flame lashing from her fingers toward his face.
The mirror at his waist flared with light, intercepting the fire. It reflected the attack in a wide arc—straight back at its caster. She screamed and fell, scorched but alive.
"This can't be the power of Spirit Spring!" the fourth cried, drawing his sword and charging.
Yao Yi caught the blade between his palms. Qi erupted, sending sparks in all directions. Then, with a grunt, he shattered the sword's edge with a crushing punch and stepped forward, slamming his knee into the attacker's chest.
The leader cursed. "Retreat!"
Too late.
Yao Yi drew in his breath, raising the mirror high. A phantom image flickered across its surface—a sigil buried in his mind, half-remembered, tied to a power long sealed.
The mirror exploded with force. All four attackers were thrown back, crashing through the bamboo.
Silence returned.
Bamboo rustled once more, as if nothing had happened.
Ling Yue reappeared atop a bent stalk, looking down at him.
"You carry something… not Spirit Spring. Not Qi Sea either. Something older. Something your father left you."
Yao Yi inhaled deeply, wiping sweat from his brow. "So you came to warn me. Why?"
She didn't answer. Instead, she tossed him something.
A fragment of bone, etched with tiny runes.
"During the next ancestor rite," she said, "bleed on this."
Yao Yi caught the bone. "What is it?"
"A key," she said. "To a lock only blood can open."
She turned to leave, her voice drifting like smoke.
"You're not the only one with Ten Sun blood. And your mother—her identity may be more complicated than you were told."
Yao Yi stood alone, shadows swallowing the last echoes of her words.
High above, the raven remained, beak dripping molten gold, watching with dead, glinting eyes.
The mirror at his waist pulsed again.
In his mind, a voice whispered:
"Sacrifice... Ascension... Are you ready?"