The loud thud broke the intense stare between them. It startled Rong Qi, the poor phoenix feather, making it impossible for him to hold onto the wine gourd with the little spirit energy he had left.
Xing Yue's reflexes saved the poor gourd from shattering, while Jiang Yunxian lightly caught the feather's sticky end before it hit the floor.
"Ow." Rong Qi winced making Yunxian release him.
"Why are you two staring at each other like you're about to skin one another alive?" Rong Qi asked, hovering higher to steady himself.
"Hey, that's so brutal of you! How can you say that? I'm a good person—I'd never skin anyone alive."
Rong Qi's feather flickered faintly. He couldn't tell if Yunxian was joking or dead serious.
Of course, Rong Qi knew his companion well. Jiang Yunxian wasn't one to kill—at least not out of impulse. He preferred chaos of another kind: stirring trouble, teasing people, and laughing from treetops when mischief took root. Sometimes he denied it; sometimes he claimed it as karma.
But whatever tension lingered in the air between him and Xing Yue, the Star God, it clearly hadn't been intentional.
"So," Rong Qi began after a pause, "what kind of intensity did I just flew into?"
"Me?" Jiang Yunxian sighed, exasperated, as if someone had stolen his last drop of wine. "She looked too pretty for a Star God. Too pretty. I was wondering if she'd perhaps impersonated the real Star God."
If Rong Qi had a mouth, it would have dropped open. The idea was absurd.
"…Impersonating the Star God? The heavens themselves would descend upon her!" he exclaimed.
From her seat, Xing Yue nodded calmly. "Exactly. The Thirty-Three Skies of the Immortal Domain would have rebelled against such blasphemy."
"Then why aren't they here yet?" Jiang Yunxian asked, voice sharp with mock curiosity.
That question froze the room.
He wasn't wrong. The Star God was said to be so divine that even the Heavenly Emperor had once been tempted to take her as a concubine—had it not been for his vow to keep only his Empress.
There was no reason for Heaven to seal such a being. Yet Rong Qi could sense there was more to the story.
---
Xing Yue sighed, her expression unreadable. "You're right. There's no reason for Heaven to seal the Star God. It must be a farce. Haven't you thought about that?" she asked, her gaze cutting sharply toward Yunxian.
"You…" He trailed off, caught between suspicion and confusion.
"Whatever the heavens intend to do with me, I have no part in it," Xing Yue said coolly. "And I'll say it one last time—I am Xing Yue, the Star God."
With that, she stood, her divine aura rippling faintly. The air trembled, and before either of them could respond, she vanished in a trail of starlight that lingered like scattered moon dust.
Rong Qi blinked, his feathers flickering uncertainly. "Don't you think that was too much?" he asked after a long silence.
Jiang Yunxian tilted his wine gourd and drank deeply, as though the question itself bored him. "I'll pretend she is who she says she is," he murmured, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "She saved a good wine. In my heart, anyone who treats fine wine like treasure is my good friend."
He took another sip, releasing a satisfied sigh.
Rong Qi, glowing faintly beside him, fell quiet. Jiang Yunxian noticed and frowned slightly.
"Ah, you okay?" he asked, lowering his gourd.
Rong Qi's feathers shimmered faintly. "What makes you think I'm not?"
Yunxian nodded, speaking lazily. "Because I only know your emotions when you talk."
Rong Qi hesitated, then said softly, "I'm just thinking."
For a moment, the pavilion fell silent again.
Then Jiang Yunxian broke it with a grin. "You should try cultivating."
Rong Qi turned sharply, feathers flaring. "What? Why?"
"It's stressful being weak, isn't it?" Yunxian replied matter-of-factly. "When I found you first, you were almost gone. I only managed to preserve your feather and anchor your soul to it. That's why you've been stuck following me around ever since."
Rong Qi's glow shifted, flaring into soft gold and crimson. "You remembered?" it asked in disbelief.
"Nope," Yunxian replied easily, shaking his head. "I dreamt it. So, I figured it must be true."
"Dreamt…?" Rong Qi's tone brightened. "What else did you dream of?"
His excitement made Yunxian pause, caught off guard. "What's wrong with you?" he asked, raising a brow.
"Tell me," Rong Qi insisted, his light glowing brighter. "What else did you dream of?"
"Fine," Yunxian sighed. "I'll tell you."
He leaned back, staring at the ceiling beams above. "In my dream, I was injured—on the verge of death. I don't know why. I remember you shouting something before you landed on me, shielding me. Then your body… your whole phoenix body burned away in flames. I did something—something I didn't even understand—and trapped your soul in your feather. I heard your voice once more, faint and weak… then everything went dark."
He lowered his gaze, eyes distant. "I haven't dreamt of that since."
There was a pause, and then a sudden burst of laughter.
Rong Qi was glowing brighter now, golden sparks flickering across his feathered form. "You fool," he said, voice filled with warmth. "At least you remember something."
Yunxian shrugged. "Whatever. You should still cultivate your whole body."
Rong Qi hesitated. "No, I can't."
"Why?"
"I have three cultivation stages," Rong Qi explained. "The first is my core, the second my phoenix form, and the third… my human form."
"Sounds troublesome," Yunxian muttered.
"It's not—so long as I'm undisturbed."
"Good," Yunxian said, suddenly standing up. "Then I'll sneak into the Pool of Knowledge at Cloudpeak Sect and find a scroll about cultivating into a full phoenix. I'm going now."
Before Rong Qi could protest, he was gone—vanishing like mist.
Rong Qi sighed, his glow dimming. "That old fool never changes."
And with that, the phoenix feather drifted in place, realizing that the most reckless journey yet was about to begin—ever since the day the Heavenly Eye was destroyed.