The seal blazed with ancient fury—an intricate web of runes spinning like living fire, whispering a language older than the heavens themselves. The air shimmered with oppressive energy; snowflakes turned to steam before they could even touch the ground.
With the seal broken, the two trespassers stepped into the hidden realm beyond the barrier. The Pool of Knowledge. The forbidden sanctuary of Cloudpeak Sect. A place said to contain the scriptures of all that Heaven once erased.
But Jiang Yunxian wasn't thinking about celestial history. He was thinking about the burning agony blooming in his chest.
"By the Heavens—" he hissed, clutching his heart as a surge of heat ripped through him, "—aren't you going to exhume yourself out of my chest?! I feel like Hell itself has rented a room inside me!"
Rong Qi's laughter echoed, a low, fiery hum that reverberated inside Yunxian's ribcage.
The sound didn't come from the air—but from within him. Every word vibrated in his bones. Every chuckle sent another flare of heat up his throat.
"He can't," Xing Yue said calmly, stepping forward. Her silver robes brushed against the faint mist that coiled around the floor like smoke over still water. "If he leaves, the seal will close again. His phoenix flames are the only thing keeping it open."
"What?" Jiang Yunxian's expression froze, torn between disbelief and horror. "You're telling me I have to carry this furnace inside me until he's done? How long will that be? A cup of tea? A night? A millennium?!"
Xing Yue didn't answer. Her gaze wandered over his chest, where faint golden lines glowed beneath his robes—runes pulsing with heat, forming the pattern of a phoenix wing. "As long as the flames hold. If he withdraws before the seal stabilizes, you'll both burn from within. The second possession will scour your heart clean—literally."
Yunxian's lips twitched. "This isn't what I signed up for." He muttered a prayer to the heavens—then cursed the heavens for ignoring it. "Why did I leave my wine gourd behind? Oh wait—no, I finished it on the way here. Of course I did. You damn celestial piece of work… this is karma for stealing my own drink, isn't it?"
"I can hear you," Rong Qi growled from within, voice hot as embers. "Don't blame the emperor for your poor life choices."
"Shut up!" Jiang Yunxian snapped automatically, startling both Xing Yue and himself. He blinked, then sighed. "Great. Now I'm shouting at my own chest. That's a new low."
The chamber ahead unfolded in eerie silence.
Rows upon rows of floating shelves hung midair—each stacked with ancient scrolls bound in ribbons of light. The air shimmered with soft radiance; words danced faintly across the scrolls as though whispering secrets of the cosmos. Yet despite their weight, not a single one fell. They hovered effortlessly, defying both gravity and logic.
"This is the Pool of Knowledge?" Jiang Yunxian asked, voice hushed—not out of reverence, but disbelief. "Looks less like a pool and more like a celestial library that lost its architect."
"Guess so," came Rong Qi's voice—a rough growl with faint mirth. "You expected water?"
"I expected something that doesn't look like a scholar's nightmare."
"Sounds human of you," the phoenix quipped.
"But I'm not," Yunxian shot back under his breath.
Xing Yue walked ahead, her divine aura flickering like starlight. The pale glow from her wrist circlet brushed the air, stirring motes of energy that rose like tiny fireflies. Every step she took left faint ripples on the groundless floor.
Yunxian followed, keeping a deliberate distance. His chest still radiated painful heat, each heartbeat a furnace. "Miss," he finally said, "why are you here?"
"I should ask you that," she replied without turning. "But it makes sense. You're of Cloudpeak Sect, after all. Still, you know this place is forbidden."
He arched a brow. "And yet here you are."
She didn't answer—her silence sharp, deliberate. It was the kind of silence that said I know more than you ever will.
"Fine," Yunxian said, raising his hands in mock surrender. "I'm the sect's most annoying disciple, remember? Breaking rules is practically my cultivation path. My feather phoenix needs his full body back, and I came to fetch the manual that can help. That's all."
Xing Yue stopped before a towering pillar of crystal light. Her reflection shimmered across its surface. "I'm here for the Scroll of Hundred Memories."
That halted Yunxian midstep. "The what?"
"The Scroll of Hundred Memories," she repeated, her tone steady. "A scripture said to contain the recollections of Heaven's lost wars."
Yunxian frowned, crossing his arms. "That thing's a myth. Why would you look for it?"
Her gaze lingered on the dancing scrolls. "A hundred thousand years ago, the heavens fell into chaos. The Immortal Domain itself turned on its own. The Jade Radiance Monarch was blamed for the rebellion—but none could explain why. The records were erased, the witnesses sealed. The Scroll of Hundred Memories might hold what truly happened."
The name Jade Radiance Monarch rang faintly in Yunxian's mind. He remembered an old drunken tale told by one of the sect's elders—a story about a righteous immortal, a lover of wine and poetry, who defied Heaven itself.
"The Jade Radiance Monarch?" he said. "You mean the immortal from the Jade Cloud Pavilion? He was a drunkard. A righteous drunkard, sure—but still, a drunkard. Why would he start a rebellion?"
From inside his chest, Rong Qi hummed. "Not all rebellion is sin. Some flames burn because the heavens refuse to see their own shadow. I've heard whispers too—that his rebellion wasn't blasphemy, but balance."
Xing Yue turned, eyes glinting like a star behind a veil. "You're quite knowledgeable, phoenix. Perhaps you'll both help me find the scroll."
She bowed slightly, hands clasped before her—a gesture that should have been humble, but from her it carried celestial weight.
Yunxian blinked. "Wait, you're asking me for help? Me? The man with a literal furnace for a heart?"
"It seems," Rong Qi muttered, "you're finally useful."
"Remind me to pluck your feathers when you get your body back," Yunxian grumbled.
He inhaled deeply, then raised two fingers, murmuring an incantation. Pale qi spiraled from his fingertips, thin as silk, before bursting outward in a wash of light. The shelves trembled. The scrolls began to shimmer.
Energy surged through the chamber—rippling like waves across an unseen ocean.
Then, with a low hum, the floating scrolls dissolved into water.
Liquid light flowed in streams around them, swirling like living rivers that mirrored the heavens above. The entire hall transformed into an ocean of scrolls—each droplet a letter, each wave a verse. It was beautiful and terrifying, ancient knowledge made liquid form.
"How—how did you do that?" Rong Qi gasped, his voice echoing with childlike wonder. "You've never been this competent!"
Yunxian smirked. "I saw someone do it once. Thought it looked cool."
"That's your reasoning?!"
"I'm lazy," he said simply, stepping closer to the glowing tide. "Besides, look at this. They layered the illusion over the true pool. The barrier wasn't just meant to keep people out—it was to hide the real Pool of Knowledge. Not bad at all."
For a rare moment, pride flickered across his face. Even Xing Yue's cold expression softened, if only slightly.
"Miss Xing Yue," Yunxian said finally, "feel free to look around. I'll… deal with my own business."
Rong Qi's flame pulsed inside his chest, an annoyed throb. "You're letting her wander? That's not like you. Aren't you supposed to be suspicious of everyone?"
"She can't steal anything," Yunxian replied, brushing dust from his sleeve.
"Oh?" Rong Qi asked dryly. "And why's that?"
"Because this place judges hearts, not hands. If she so much as hides a scroll with ill intent, the heavens will know. This is called the Pool of Knowledge for a reason—it records not only words, but deeds." His smirk deepened. "If she does steal something, then I'll know she's not who she says she is."
Rong Qi hummed. "You're paranoid."
"I'm prepared."
The two moved deeper into the chamber, searching among the glowing waters. Time passed—how long, none could tell. In the Pool of Knowledge, time flowed differently, bending like the reflections on its surface.
After endless searching, Yunxian finally stopped before a column of light shaped like a blooming lotus. Within it floated a scroll etched with phoenix sigils and flickering gold fire.
"That's it," Rong Qi breathed, excitement rippling through his fiery voice. "That's the manual!"
"You sure?"
"For the hundredth time—yes!"
Yunxian sighed. "I'll take your word for it. This place gives me the creeps."
When they turned back, Xing Yue was already waiting at the entrance. She looked unchanged—calm, unreadable. Her eyes flickered briefly to the scroll in Yunxian's hand, then away.
No one spoke. The silence was thick as snow.
"Alright," Yunxian finally said, "my chest feels like molten iron. Can you please get out now? You've got your cultivation waiting."
Inside him, Rong Qi muttered something about impatience. Then came the chant—ancient, solemn. Fire flared from Yunxian's chest, spiraling outward before coalescing into the shape of a burning feather.
The seal behind them roared shut, blazing with new light before cooling into silence.
When it was over, Yunxian fell to one knee, gasping. The pain receded, leaving only a faint warmth pulsing beneath his pendant. The phoenix's soul settled back into its feather, glowing softly in his palm.
"Remind me," he wheezed, "to never volunteer again."
And high above, unseen among the floating scrolls, a faint shimmer passed through the waters—a hidden script flickered to life for a single heartbeat.
"When the Phoenix burns the seal, the Star shall remember."
Then it vanished, leaving only the sound of the pool's soft hum.