Dawn in the Celestial Realm did not arrive with birdsong.
It came in waves of gold and ivory mist, unfurling from the horizon like a divine breath. The skies shifted from deep indigo to blushing pink, clouds blooming like peonies across the heavens. Each petal of the day was painted with care.
But even beauty could not hide unease.
Because somewhere, in the place between dreams and wakefulness, something had awoken.
Lian Qiao sat on a bamboo platform overlooking the garden pond, her legs folded beneath her, a bowl of congee untouched at her side.
She hadn't spoken about the dream.
Not to Master Bai. Not to the other trainees. Not even to the koi who usually listened to her rants with great patience.
She just… felt it still.
The weight of that voice. The garden of impossible flowers. The whisper that called her blossom, but not kindly.
And worse—she could still hear the final line, echoing in her bones:
He will burn the heavens for you… if you do not burn him first.
Who was he?
Her thoughts flickered — to silver eyes, black robes, and a grip stronger than gravity.
Mo Yujin.
She shook her head violently. "No. Definitely not. He's too… frozen. Like a very angry icicle with judgment issues."
A breeze curled through the garden, brushing her cheek.
She frowned.
The air shifted again — colder this time.
Then she heard it:
"Qiao'er…"
Her breath hitched.
She stood, spinning in place.
The garden was empty.
The pond rippled once. The breeze stopped.
Nothing.
But she'd heard it. Her name. Carried on wind that smelled faintly of winter and war.
⚔️ In the Eastern Sky...
Mo Yujin sat in the Hall of Echoes, a chamber used only by divine tacticians and celestial generals in times of great crisis.
He had not been here in a thousand years.
Before him floated a spectral blade — long, curved, and translucent. Its hilt was bound with black silk, and its body shimmered with past blood and buried vows.
It was his.
Frostbane.The sword that ended the War of the Eclipsing Suns.The sword that sealed the Three Abysses.The sword he had not summoned in ten centuries.
And now, it trembled in the air — humming softly.
"Why now," he murmured, voice barely audible.
He reached out, letting his fingers graze the blade.
It burned.
A sharp pulse of divine energy shot through him, flooding his veins with memory.
A battlefield.A scream.A girl in red.A hand letting go.
His eyes snapped open.
He saw nothing in the room, but behind his ribs — something shifted.
A call. A pull. Not of war.
Of her.
She dreams of you.And you… remember her.
🌸 Meanwhile, at Peach Blossom Sect…
Master Bai was brewing tea upside-down.
Not metaphorically. He was quite literally floating upside-down, one finger stirring the pot mid-air while the flames danced under it, unbothered by gravity or good manners.
Across from him sat a serious-faced woman in steel-threaded robes.
Elder Mei, former guardian of the Star Watch Tower, known for her ability to sense realm-shifts even in her sleep.
"She had the dream," Master Bai said simply.
Mei nodded. "Then the scroll has awakened."
"She doesn't know what it means."
"She doesn't need to. Not yet." Mei paused. "But you must tell her soon. Before he remembers everything."
Bai sighed and flipped upright. "Mo Yujin is not one to remember. He buried his heart before the stars were born."
"And yet," Mei said, "he anchored her."
Bai didn't reply.
The wind rustled the peach trees.
"Prepare her," Mei said finally. "Because if the Blade of Frost stirs… the past will too."
🌌 That night...
Qiao sat by her window, staring at the stars.
She didn't see the thread of light that pulsed faintly from her heart, trailing high above, all the way to the Eastern Sky.
She didn't see the man standing beneath the silver banners, watching the same stars, holding a sword that had forgotten how to sleep.
And she didn't hear the whisper that echoed in both their chests at the same time:
It begins again.