It was early morning. The dew still clung to the leaves and grass, refusing to fade away under the soft touch of sunlight.
Clang... clang... clang... — the rhythmic echo of metal striking metal drifted through the forest, breaking the silence of dawn.
Far ahead stood a towering mountain, its peak piercing the clouds. Wild trees and vines draped along its rocky sides, giving it a lush, emerald appearance. The sound was coming from deep within that mountain — steady, sharp, and echoing, as if someone was forging something in secret.
There was a single tree growing out from the side of the mountain, so high that its crown vanished above the clouds. Its emerald leaves shimmered with morning dew, each droplet catching the sunlight like tiny crystals.
From one of its sturdy branches hung a thick brown rope, tied securely around it. The rope stretched downward, cutting through the mist, until it wrapped around the waist of a young boy dangling midair.
He wore tight brown robes that fit closely to his upper body, giving him the look of a short-sleeved shirt. Crimson dragon patterns ran across the fabric, faintly glowing under the sunlight.
The boy looked no older than twelve. Strapped to his back was a wooden backpack overflowing with plants — rare herbs that glowed faintly in every color of the rainbow. Their gentle light painted his brown robes with streaks of color as he slowly climbed his way up the rope.
In his right hand, he held a simple dagger; in his left, a small blue plant that glowed with faint golden light.
After a long climb through the mist, he finally reached the top, where the ancient tree anchored the rope. His robes clung to his skin, soaked from the thick fog, yet he didn't seem to care.
Gripping the branch tightly with both hands, he untied the rope — first from the tree, then from around his waist — and stuffed it carefully into his wooden backpack.he tookout a small paper from his left sleeve.suddenly the whole bag in on his back shrank and went inside of the paper with a whoosh sound.he shoved the paper back into his sleeves.
Then, without a moment's hesitation, he released the branch.
For an instant, his body hung suspended in the mist.
The next, he was plummeting — headfirst through the clouds, the wind screaming past his ears as he fell toward the world below.
The boy pierced through the thick clouds, falling with a thrill that was all too familiar — he had done this countless times before, and he loved it. His pinky fingers instinctively went to his mouth as he drew a deep breath, and a sharp whistling sound cut through the forest, echoing even through the sky itself.
Suddenly, a shadow shot past him and caught him mid-fall.
It was Bai Zun, the titan ape. The boy crouched lightly on the giant's left palm, steady as if the fall were nothing.
This boy was Zixiao, older now, taller and braver. Over the years, his hair had grown long, cascading to his shoulders. From the back of his head, it fell like a waterfall, while the top was tied into a small ponytail. From the front, two thick strands framed his face, reaching down to his chin. His features were sharper now, reflecting both the physical and mental growth of the years.
Zixiao's hair and robes whipped violently in the rushing wind, and he squinted against its force.
Just like him, Bai Zun's fur fluttered wildly, rippling with each powerful gust. But suddenly…
Boom!
From the right side of the forest, a massive explosion shook the ground, golden light flickering and scattering across the trees.
Zixiao and Bai Zun exchanged a serious, questioning glance, silently acknowledging the threat. Without hesitation, Bai Zun shifted course mid-air. With a deafening boom, he leaped higher, creating ripples through the sky with the sheer force of his movement.
Moments later, the titan ape landed with an earth-shattering impact near the source of the golden light. His massive hand pressed against the ground, sending tremors through the forest. Zixiao leapt down beside him, grunting with exertion.
"Stay here," Zixiao whispered to Bai Zun, his voice low but firm. "Unless I tell you, don't move, okay?"
Bai Zun nodded, eyes fixed on him, a silent promise of loyalty and patience.
Zixiao crept through the thick undergrowth, crouched low, each step silent. His sharp eyes darted left and right, scanning for any sign of danger.
Then—there it was again. That faint boom... followed by a golden flicker of light, glowing just ahead, maybe ten meters away.
He moved closer, careful not to snap a twig or disturb the bushes. As he parted the last of the leaves, his eyes widened slightly.
A woman lay sprawled across the ground, her body drenched in blood that stained the soil beneath her. Her upper half was that of a breathtakingly beautiful woman—yet from the waist down, her form turned into the gleaming scales of a serpent.
Her long black hair, tangled and heavy with dew, fell across her face. The tribal brown cloth clung to her body, torn and soaked in blood, while a short brown skirt covered her serpentine tail. She was breathing heavily, each breath shallow and ragged, as though clinging to life by sheer will.
Zixiao froze for a moment, eyes narrowing.
"A… a snake woman," he thought, his heart skipping a beat. "But what is a snake woman doing in the Starry Sky River Forest? Aren't their kind supposed to live in another empire?"
He rubbed his chin, still crouched, whispering under his breath as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing.
The snake woman's trembling lips parted.
"W–water… wa…ter…" she whispered weakly, before a harsh cough escaped her throat—followed by a thin stream of blood trickling down her chin.
Zixiao froze. Then, as if reacting to something deep within him, a faint purple crescent moon shimmered on his forehead—appearing and vanishing in a flash before he even realized it.
A sudden chill ran down his spine. What was that…? he thought. But before fear could take hold, sympathy overwhelmed him.
He burst from the bushes, still crouched low, and rushed to her side.
"Don't worry, you're gonna be okay," he said hurriedly, his voice trembling slightly.
Zixiao slid his arm around her waist and gently lifted her upper body. Up close, he could finally see her face—despite the dirt and blood, she was beautiful, with delicate features that carried an ageless grace. She looked to be in her thirties, yet there was something ancient in her presence, something that didn't belong to this world.
"Here… have some water," he said, fumbling with his wooden bottle. He glanced around—left, right, behind him—alert for any danger, before uncorking it and tilting it toward her lips.
Water trickled from the bottle, spilling down her neck and onto her chest as she drank greedily in heavy gulps, her body trembling with each swallow.
Suddenly, while drinking, the woman's body trembled violently.
She coughed—a deep, wet sound—and a thick splash of blood burst from her mouth, spilling the water from the bottle.
The crimson spray splattered across Zixiao's robes, staining them dark red.
He froze for a heartbeat, his eyes widening—but he didn't care. He only tightened his grip around her waist, trying to keep her from collapsing.
"You… can't… be here…" she whispered through ragged breaths, each word laced with pain. Her eyes fluttered weakly, shimmering like dying embers.
"You… have to… go…" she stuttered, her voice barely audible beneath the sound of her heavy breathing.
And then—silence.
Her head slumped forward, her body going limp in his arms.
Zixiao's heart pounded. "Hey—hey! Don't close your eyes!" he called out, shaking her lightly, panic rushing through his chest.
Then—once again—the purple crescent moon blazed to life on his forehead, brighter this time, pulsing faintly as if responding to the woman's fading life.
The air around them grew still. Even the wind seemed to halt.
Zixiao froze.
A faint whoosh echoed from somewhere in the distance.
He raised his head, eyes scanning the misty sky. The sound grew sharper—closer—cutting through the still morning air like a blade.
Without his noticing, the snake woman's body began to shimmer faintly. Her bleeding skin dissolved into strands of purple essence, soft and ethereal, flowing upward like smoke.
The glowing threads circled around Zixiao, brushing past his face, then drifted toward his forehead—
—where the purple crescent moon pulsed once and absorbed them completely.
Zixiao felt nothing. He was too focused on the sound.
The whoosh grew louder—
Louder—
until it became a roaring gale.
From above, a golden sphere of energy tore through the clouds, leaving behind a blazing trail of light. The heavens trembled; the air quaked.
Zixiao's eyes widened in horror as the sphere descended straight toward him.
Then—
BOOOOM!
A deafening explosion erupted, shaking the entire forest.
Golden light devoured everything in sight.
Birds screeched and fled into the sky, beasts roared and scattered into the shadows.
The mountain wind howled as dust and leaves were thrown high into the air.
Smoke curled through the forest, rising from beneath the trees and drifting upward, swallowed by the gray sky.
Beneath that shroud, crimson flames devoured everything in their path—the trees, the fallen leaves, even the damp bushes that tried to resist. The fire crackled and hissed, spreading wildly with every gust of wind.
At the edge of the burning grove, Zixiao lay motionless on the scorched ground. His robes were torn and charred, the once earthy brown now stained with blood and ash.
His forehead bled down the side of his face; his hands were scraped raw. When he opened his eyes, the world swayed in front of him—his vision blurred, his head pounding with a sharp ringing noise that drowned every other sound.
For a moment, he couldn't move. His limbs felt heavy… lifeless.
It had been years since he last felt this weak—this close to death.
With a groan, Zixiao forced himself to sit up. The pain hit him instantly.
He gasped.
A broken branch—thick and jagged—was impaled through his abdomen, blood soaking through his robe and dripping onto the dirt.
His breath trembled. His hands shook as he reached toward the branch, but even the slightest touch sent a wave of searing pain through his body.
He clenched his teeth, sweat mixing with the soot on his face.
The firelight flickered in his eyes, reflecting both agony—and defiance.
Through the unbearable pain, Zixiao clenched his trembling hands around the branch lodged in his abdomen. His breath came out ragged, sweat dripping from his chin.
Then—
With a single, desperate pull—
"Ahhh—!"
The branch tore free, and a spray of blood splattered across the ground, staining the scorched earth. His whole body convulsed. The branch fell from his hand, red glistening along its jagged edge.
A thin stream of blood ran down from his wound, soaking his robe. The pain was so sharp that it nearly broke his voice into a scream—but he bit it back, covering his mouth with both hands, muffling his agony.
Tears slid down his cheeks, mixing with dirt and blood.
With shaking fingers, Zixiao reached into his sleeve and drew out a space-storage talisman. A faint blue light shimmered before a glowing azure plant appeared in his palm—the same one he had collected earlier.
He plucked several leaves, crushed them in his hand, and shoved them into his mouth. After chewing quickly, he spat the blue paste onto his palm, his breath heavy and uneven.
Pulling up the blood-soaked fabric near his waist, he pressed the paste directly over the wound.
Instantly, the bleeding began to slow. Golden particles drifted out from the paste, glowing faintly as they seeped into his skin, soothing the burning pain inch by inch.
Zixiao exhaled shakily. His heartbeat steadied.
He adjusted his robe and forced himself upright, every movement followed by a grunt of pain.
His eyes scanned through the smoke-filled forest, searching—left, right, deeper into the haze.
"Where… where is she…?" he muttered between coughs.
But no matter where he looked—
the snake woman was nowhere to be seen.
Only fire, smoke, and silence surrounded him.
Suddenly, the air grew colder, and the sky darkened unnaturally. Shadows stretched across the forest, swallowing the trees in a dim, oppressive haze.
Zixiao squinted upward, confusion etched across his bloodied face.
Then—a violent, icy wind tore through the forest, bending trees and bushes under its sheer force. His robes and long hair whipped wildly around him as he struggled to remain upright, his body trembling in the chill.
The forest animals screamed and scattered, fleeing in every direction, their cries piercing through the raging wind.
High above, in the darkened clouds, pockets of blazing golden light began to flare and flicker. The wind grew sharper, almost tangible, pressing down on Zixiao like the weight of the sky itself.
Instinctively, he stepped back, eyes wide, mouth half-open in disbelief. His heart pounded in his chest.
Then, countless blazing golden spheres plummeted from the sky—faster, more numerous than before. Each impact caused a thunderous shock, sending waves through the scorched forest. The sheer pressure of the attack made it feel as if the heavens themselves were collapsing.
Zixiao spun around, desperation cracking his voice: "Baaaaiiiii Zuuuunnn!"
His shout echoed through the chaos, carrying dozens of meters across the burning forest. Far above, Bai Zun's enormous brown-glowing eyes snapped open, filled with anger and fury.