The world burned.
Shen Ziyan stood at the edge of the valley, his robes soaked with blood, his breathing heavy. Around him, the trees of the Valley of Fallen Names withered beneath waves of divine pressure, their leaves shriveling, their roots cracking apart as if they were being scorched by celestial flames.
Before him stood the invader.
A youth cloaked in golden aura, his face chiseled with arrogance, a divine rune pulsing between his brows. His cultivation surged at the Divine Sea late stage, an entire realm above Shen Ziyan's current Core Formation level.
"Shen Ziyan." The youth's voice was lazy, dismissive. "You were the son of a forgotten sect. Now you think you're worthy to walk into the Valley of the Gods?"
Ziyan didn't speak. His hand gripped the hilt of his sword tightly, but his eyes remained calm. Silent.
The sword at his waist—Celestial Serpent—trembled.
It wasn't fear.
It was anticipation.
Ziyan inhaled slowly, his breath entering a meditative rhythm. The Primordial Dragon Blood within him boiled. The moment he had stepped into the valley, the blood in his veins had reacted—throbbing with something ancient. Something sacred.
The youth sneered. "Still playing mute? Let me teach you the price of arrogance."
He raised a hand. Divine energy surged like a flood, transforming into a spear of condensed light. It spiraled in the air, its tip sharp enough to split the wind, and hurled toward Ziyan with a howl.
Ziyan didn't dodge.
He took a step forward.
Boom—!
The spear hit.
But it didn't pierce him.
Instead, a blinding golden light erupted from Ziyan's chest. A roaring phantom of a dragon—ancient, primeval, its eyes burning like suns—appeared and wrapped around him. The divine spear shattered into fragments before it could touch his flesh.
The golden youth's expression twisted. "A bloodline…? What kind of bloodline is that?!"
Ziyan finally opened his mouth, voice calm as still water.
"Yours bows to mine."
A single sentence.
But it cracked the air like thunder.
He drew his sword.
Celestial Serpent slithered through the air with an eerie, serpentine rhythm. The sword wasn't forged from mortal steel. It had been bathed in the blood of a fallen god, tempered in the marrow of a Sky Whale, and awakened through Ziyan's own bloodline resonance. It had slumbered for generations in his clan—until he had reawakened it.
The air thickened. Space trembled.
Ziyan stepped forward and slashed. The sword emitted no light. No storm. No thunder.
But when it struck, the valley split in two.
The golden youth coughed blood. His divine sea cracked. He staggered, staring in disbelief at the wound that split his chest.
"You… that bloodline—! That's not just divine—it's sovereign!"
Ziyan's eyes narrowed. He stepped forward, not to kill, but to press.
"Tell me who sent you."
The youth trembled. "The Celestial Tribunal… They fear her return… They sent me to stop you from reaching the Moonlight Pool…"
Ziyan's heart froze.
The Moonlight Pool—the place Bai Yanyue had mentioned. A natural spring born of lunar essence. It could purify karmic bindings and even unlock sealed soul fragments.
The key to unlocking his wife's divine memories.
Ziyan turned.
The youth collapsed behind him.
But Ziyan didn't look back.
---
Half a day later, beneath a silver sky, Ziyan finally stood before the Moonlight Pool.
It was beautiful. A basin of crystal water nestled between mountain cliffs. The pool shimmered under the full moon, glowing with a pale silver light that seeped into the stones and trees. Soft lunar mist coiled around it like silk.
And waiting beside the pool—her white robes flowing like starlight—stood Bai Yanyue.
Her veil was lifted.
Ziyan paused. In the moonlight, she looked… ethereal.
The cold, untouchable beauty who had once descended from the heavens now looked almost human. Her eyes shimmered with emotion as she saw him approach.
"You made it," she said softly.
"I told you I would." Ziyan stepped closer.
He didn't know when it had happened—but seeing her standing there, framed by moonlight, filled him with something deeper than longing.
A kind of inevitability.
She looked at him for a long moment, then turned her eyes to the pool.
"The Moonlight Pool will awaken part of my sealed memories," she whispered. "But only if my soul resonates with another's."
Ziyan understood. "You want me to enter the pool with you."
Yanyue nodded, eyes serious. "It won't be pleasant. Our souls will brush. Our desires will surface. Every scar, every longing… we'll see each other without walls."
He looked into her eyes. "I've already seen who you are, Bai Yanyue."
She smiled, just a little. "No. You've seen who I became."
A pause.
Then she added, voice softer:
"Maybe I'm afraid you won't like what's underneath."
Ziyan reached out and took her hand.
His fingers were rough. Hers were cold.
But in that moment, their touch bridged two lives, two fates.
"Whatever I see," he said, "I will not let go."
She closed her eyes.
Then together, they stepped into the pool.
---
The water was warm. It wrapped around them like silk. Ziyan felt his consciousness pulled into another world—neither dream nor illusion, but memory.
He floated in darkness.
And then—
He saw her.
Bai Yanyue—not the woman standing beside him now—but the Celestial Maiden of the Thousand Lotus Temple.
She floated in the air, surrounded by chanting priests, a silver lotus blooming beneath her feet. Divine energy pulsed through her body, light radiating from her every pore.
But her eyes were empty.
In her heart, there was no joy.
Only obedience.
Then he saw more—her standing before a god in golden robes, her body trembling as the god raised a hand to erase a planet. She had wanted to speak. To defy.
But she had only bowed.
"I am your sword," she had said.
And her voice had been hollow.
Ziyan's heart clenched.
More memories surged—visions of Yanyue wandering alone through ruined temples, crying silently in front of a shattered mirror. She had torn off her divine insignia and buried it in the sand.
"I want to be free," she had whispered. "I want to choose. Just once."
The water rippled.
Ziyan reached toward her.
And in the next instant, they were back in the pool.
But not unchanged.
Yanyue looked at him, her chest heaving, her face pale.
"You saw…"
He nodded.
And instead of fear—she smiled.
Soft. Bitter. But real.
"I killed gods," she said. "I tore down a temple. I ran from the stars." She stepped forward, the water lapping at her waist. "Do you still want me?"
Ziyan didn't hesitate.
"I never wanted the version of you the heavens made." He took her in his arms. "I want the one who broke free."
Her lips trembled.
And then she kissed him.
Far above them, the moon shimmered.
The Moonlight Pool pulsed with light.
And in the distance… eyes opened.
From a divine throne deep in the Celestial Realm, a god in dark armor rose.
His voice echoed across the divine halls.
"She has awakened."
"Send the Ascendants."