Li’s eyes glinted with quiet patience as if he had anticipated the question. “I do not expect you to know,” he said, his voice even and unyielding. “But I am here for him, the one you call Young Master. It is said that he would come of age, and the time had arrived. My duty is to bring him home.”

  The murmurs resumed, this time louder, disciples and elders alike now buzzing with speculation.

  Meanwhile, on the mountaintop, Tian stood, his gaze wandering over the Sect grounds below. He felt the change in the air, a chill that prickled his senses. His intuition, sharpened from years of training, told him that something—someone—had arrived. He smirked, an amused glint in his eyes as he watched, his curiosity piqued.

  He focused on hearing, only to catch a circle of disciples gathered around the Elder Hall, whispering furiously among themselves, expressions varying from wonder to fear.

  “Is this true? Could Young Master…?”

  “But it was said he’s not from Kunlun! How could he be a descendant of the Ashen Clan?”

  “Why would this man claim such a thing now, of all times?”

  The head elder’s face was unreadable, his mind racing as he considered the implications of Li’s words. “If you claim him as the ‘son of the Ashen Clan,’ you must have proof.”

  Li’s gaze did not falter, though a subtle hint of challenge flickered in his eyes. “Proof? The very fact that His Highness ascended today, is proof enough. Only the direct descendants of our clan could awaken such a powerful, ancient vermilion bloodline.”

  The elders stiffened, exchanging wary glances. The timing was uncanny. Tian’s recent ascension, the arrival of this man… could it truly be a coincidence?

  Seeing their hesitation, Li took a step forward, his gaze unwavering. “Your Sect has welcomed him, natured him well,” he continued, his voice carrying a faint note of respect. “But his part in all this is far greater than any of you realize. I am bound by the will of the Ashen Clan to bring him back to where he belongs.”

  A ripple of silence fell over the crowd, each disciple and elder processing this unexpected revelation. The tension in the air was thick, charged with the weight of an unknown fate.

  “Is that… is he really a servant of the Sacred Clan?” one disciple whispered. “Could it be… our Young Master is of noble blood?”

  “That would explain his monstrous power,” another replied in awe. “But why now? Why has no one come for him until today?”

  The air in the Sect buzzed with a strange energy, a ripple of intrigue and suspicion that had swept through every corner since Li Jinan’s unexpected arrival. Younger disciples gathered in tight circles, whispering feverishly about the mysterious man who had walked into their midst, his bearing both commanding and oddly familiar.

  “Do you think he’s really some long-lost relative of the Young Master?” one asked, eyes wide with excitement.

  “Relative? He looks more like an assassin to me,” another murmured, glancing around as if expecting Li to reappear from the shadows.

  In the training grounds, some of the more seasoned disciples observed with wary eyes, their instincts telling them that Li Jinan was no ordinary visitor. They had learned over the years to read the faintest signs of power, and whatever Li was hiding, it was deep and ancient. This, they knew, was no casual visit—it was a ripple from the past, disturbing the present.

  Meanwhile, the Sect elders convened in a solemn chamber, the dim candlelight casting long shadows across their faces. Seated around a circular stone table, each elder bore an expression of concern, even suspicion.

  “Have we truly allowed a stranger to simply walk into our Sect and lay claim to one of our own?” Elder Wang broke the silence, his tone sharp and laced with mistrust. “Young Master may be reckless, but we know his strength. He is our future. We cannot simply let him be whisked away by a man with cryptic stories.”

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Elder Hua, sighed, folding her hands in her lap. “And yet, there is something we cannot deny. The man’s aura… What if his claims hold truth?”

  Elder Wang scoffed. “Truth? He appears out of nowhere, claiming to be a servant of the Sacred Clan—an ancient family that vanished without a trace. Sixteen years is a long time to carry loyalty. Who knows his true motives?”

  At that, High Elder sighed, his voice steady and thoughtful. “Perhaps we should ask ourselves a different question: does the Young Master belong here with us, or is his destiny beyond this Sect?” The words hung heavily in the air, stirring unspoken worries and half-acknowledged suspicions.

  “Destiny…” murmured Elder Xu, who rarely spoke unless he felt compelled. “We’ve known since he arrived that he was no ordinary child. The Phoenix flame that he mastered—none among us could have brought that power forth. It’s not ours to keep.”

  The elders fell silent, each grappling with the implications of Elder Xu’s words. Though they’d raised Tian, guided him, and watched him grow, there had always been an understanding, even if unspoken: Tian was something more, someone they couldn’t entirely contain.

  Meanwhile, Tian stood amidst the aftermath of his breakthrough in a serene garden, atop the peak—his newly awakened Black Flame still flickered faintly around refusing to burn out. He surveyed the horizon, still rippling from the forces he had unleashed, only to find himself facing an unexpected figure: a man clad in traditional robes of black and silver, his aura hidden yet precise, as though each of his movements had been practiced over countless lifetimes. The figure took a step forward, his gaze unfaltering.

  Tian tilted his head, eyeing the stranger with wary amusement. “And you are?”

  “One Will, One Flame—Above all Sects, Beyond all Kings. Your Highness,” Li addressed him, the words rolling off his tongue with reverence. “I am Li Jinan.”

  Tian raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk as he studied the stranger before him. He had always been waiting for someone like he was told. But this? A servant from a long-lost clan? His amusement masked the flicker of unease that stirred within him.

  “Is that supposed to mean something?” he replied, his tone laced with mock nonchalance.

  Li’s expression softened, though his eyes held an intensity that belied his calm exterior. “Indeed, Your Highness. I am here only to guide you back, as I was sworn to do.”

  Tian’s smirk widened, a spark of intrigue igniting in his gaze. “Well, servant of the Sacred Clan, I have to admit you have balls. But if you’ve come all this way, I might as well entertain you.”

  The man met Tian’s gaze without flinching, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “My name is Li Jinan, Your Highness. And I have awaited the day I could fulfill my duty… the day I would find the son of my Mistress and bring him back.”

  “Is that so?” Tian’s tone was light, his skepticism veiled beneath a casual smirk. “ Sounds a bit vague, don’t you think?”

  Li’s lips curved into a faint smile, unbothered by Tian’s sarcasm. “Forgive me, Your Highness. Words do little justice to the truth. But certain truths cannot simply be told—they must be realized. Especially when it concerns a legacy as profound as yours.” His gaze was steady, holding Tian’s with a gravity that felt as old as the earth itself.

  Tian’s eyebrows lifted in bemusement, his eyes glinting with a mixture of curiosity and cynicism. “Interesting choice of words, old man. But I wasn’t born yesterday. I’ve dealt with enough cryptic strangers to recognize an act when I see one.” He chuckled, crossing his arms. “What’s next, a prophecy?”

  Li’s composure remained unbroken, his gaze piercing. “Prophecy? No. It’s far simpler than that.” He gestured subtly as if to emphasize his point. “This is about who you are, Your Highness… and who you were meant to be.”

  Tian clenched his jaw, brushing off the sense of unease that had settled in his chest. “Who I am, huh? Nice try. My life’s an open book, and it doesn’t involve any mythical clans or none of that. Whatever story you think you’ve got figured out, it’s not mine.”

  But Li only inclined his head, seemingly unbothered by Tian’s rejection. “Perhaps it is not the tale you know,” he conceded, his voice calm. “But tell me this, Your Highness: haven’t you ever wondered why the flame within you feels as though it belongs to you from the start? Why the fire you wield has never been mastered before?”

  Tian fell silent, his fists clenching as he considered the words. There were indeed moments, brief flashes in time when his flames seemed to echo with a haunting resonance, a depth he couldn’t quite place. But admitting it would mean opening a door he’d long kept shut.

  “Interesting,” he said finally, a defensive edge in his tone. “I’ve heard enough. Whatever it is you’re selling, I’m not buying. So why don’t you take your riddles and head back to wherever it is you came from?”

  Li Jinan’s expression didn’t falter. “Perhaps, then, it is not my words that will convince you.” He paused, then added, “Do you still have the Black Amulet of Xinghua?”

  Tian’s heart stilled. The Black Amulet of Xinghua, also known as the Phoenix Tear—was the only thing that the old monks said his mother had left him with. It was a memory that felt like a dream, distant yet somehow familiar.