Chapter Ten: Crimson Flames and Azure Rain

It was still evening. The pattering rain gradually thinned, and at last, came to a stop. In the Beast Mountain Range, the ancient forest lay shrouded in silence, broken only by the soft drip of rainwater—otherwise, deathly still.

Within the barrier, Ye Zihan lay flat upon the grassy earth. After Lan Yu’s healing, the wounds that had marred his body were long since mended; even the scars had vanished without a trace, leaving his skin pale and flawless.

Suspended silently above him were Hong Yan and Lan Yu. Youlan, however, had already departed with the dragon egg after bidding them farewell, seeking a secluded place to hatch the young dragon.

“It’s been over three hundred years now. How swiftly time passes,” Hong Yan remarked suddenly, his voice tinged with the weight of ages.

Lan Yu sighed softly and replied, “It’s been three centuries since you and I left the Temple. I wonder if Zidian, alone, can hold the situation together.”

“Don’t worry,” Hong Yan said, “Though Zidian is a cold man, he knows how to weigh the greater good. Confronting the entire Elder Council single-handedly is no easy task, but with his cunning and resourcefulness, he’ll find a way to delay matters if nothing else.”

Lan Yu eyed Hong Yan skeptically, saying nothing, as if weighing the truth of his words.

Hong Yan chuckled, then glanced down at Ye Zihan and changed the subject. “It’s been twelve years since we entered this little one’s body. Only now have we broken free—truly strange.”

Lan Yu, hearing this, felt a stir of unease. Indeed, with their combined strength, even reduced to soul form, they should not have been trapped inside a child’s body for twelve years.

The two exchanged a look, their minds swirling with conjecture, yet answers eluded them.

After a time, Ye Zihan’s body stirred below. At last, he awoke from his slumber.

His eyes opened slowly. Above him were lush, dense branches; from the dim sky, fine raindrops fell ceaselessly, yet none touched him.

“I’m not dead?” As his senses returned, Ye Zihan murmured aloud.

He turned his head. The Golden Nectar Fruit was still clutched tightly in his hand. A faint smile curved his lips. In his mind, a petite figure emerged. “With this Golden Nectar Fruit, Xiaoxue’s summoning technique should reach the Trine realm at last.”

Turning over, Ye Zihan sat up and examined himself carefully, astonished to find not a single mark or scar upon his body. It was hard to fathom: he had endured the self-destruction of a sixth-tier beast and survived a fall from a thousand-foot cliff, yet emerged unscathed.

He rose to his feet and surveyed his surroundings. Behind him lay an ancient pool. All around stood towering, colossal trees and dense undergrowth. The forest was utterly silent—no beasts, no birds.

Having taken stock of his environment, Ye Zihan was about to search for a path home when a deep, resonant voice rang out abruptly: “Little one, so you’re finally awake.”

Startled, Ye Zihan looked around. He had seen no one nearby. He quickly followed the sound and saw, hovering in the air ahead, two ethereal figures who had appeared without warning.

One was clad in red, with unruly crimson hair cascading to his shoulders. Tall and upright, his face bore a rugged gentleness, yet his eyes spoke of worldly sorrow and wisdom. It was he who had spoken.

Beside him stood a woman draped in blue, her waterfall of black hair flowing to her waist, a silken sash accenting her slender form. Her beauty was unrivaled, her aura otherworldly and serene—a fairy descended to earth, untouched by mortal dust.

“You… who are you?” Ye Zihan stammered, backing away in alarm as he gazed at the two figures suspended in the air.

“My name is Hong Yan,” the red-clad man replied with a hearty laugh, gesturing first to himself, then to the woman at his side. “She is Lan Yu.” With a flick of his sleeve, a voluminous red robe settled over Ye Zihan’s shoulders. “Fear not, we mean you no harm.”

The robe was oversized, but better than nothing—and its fabric was of such fine quality that it felt supremely comfortable. Ye Zihan looked at Hong Yan in surprise, then bowed his head slightly in gratitude.

Lan Yu smiled gently and asked, “Child, what is your name?”

Dazed by her beauty, Ye Zihan stammered, “I… my name is Ye Zihan.”

“Ye Zihan, is it? Not a bad name. From now on, you shall be our host,” Hong Yan declared with a smile.

Ye Zihan was taken aback. “Host?”

Hong Yan nodded, gathering his thoughts before explaining, “More than three centuries ago, an accident cost us our bodies. Since then, we have wandered the world in spirit form.”

At the mention of “accident,” Lan Yu’s expression shifted subtly, her teeth catching her lower lip, yet she said nothing.

“Twelve years ago, at the time of your birth, our souls entered your body to escape the wrath of heavenly lightning. For reasons unknown, our source soul fire remained within you. Thus, we are now bound to your body and cannot stray too far.”

With no outsiders present and Ye Zihan as their host, Hong Yan spoke candidly of the truth.

“Three hundred years ago? Source soul fire?” Ye Zihan exclaimed in shock. For cultivators, longevity was tied to their cultivation. To have lived three centuries, one’s strength must at least be at the ** stage.

The requirements for the source soul fire were even more exacting: Seven-star Soul Refinement, Eight Trigrams Soul Flame! To cultivate the source soul fire, one had to reach at least the Eight Trigrams stage.

That meant these two, who appeared so youthful, were not only ancient but possessed cultivation at the Eight Trigrams stage or beyond!

The clan chief, Ye Aotian, was only at the late Eight Trigrams stage himself. These two, then, could rival the chief in power.

Seeing Ye Zihan’s astonished expression, Hong Yan and Lan Yu smiled faintly.

For over three centuries since their bodies had been destroyed, they had made countless attempts to enter the bodies of newborn infants in soul form, but always failed—until twelve years ago, on the night of Ye Zihan’s birth, when they succeeded. It seemed fate had brought them together.

“You cannot leave my body?” After a long silence, Ye Zihan finally spoke again.

“No. Our source soul fire now resides within you. We are destined to follow you,” Hong Yan replied.

Lan Yu’s brows knitted. “Child, what’s wrong?” she asked softly.

Ye Zihan gave a helpless, bitter laugh. “I was born without the elemental qi of the five elements—a useless cripple in cultivation. If you remain with me, you’ll only suffer for it.”

Hong Yan and Lan Yu were taken aback. They concentrated for a moment and indeed sensed no elemental energy within Ye Zihan.

They exchanged a look, surprise and doubt flickering in their eyes, then turned their gazes to Ye Zihan, studying him intently.

But when their eyes fell upon the strange mark on Ye Zihan’s left arm, even their composure could not withstand it—they cried out in astonishment!