—
The dragon's gaze moved.
Past him.
It had walked straight past him — past the generals, the nobles, the princes — and stopped before —
—
It stopped in front of his younger brother.
Mù Jiāngyuè's eyes widened, disbelief flashing across his face as the dragon's forehead touched his.
Light burst from their contact, forming a glowing seal upon Mù Jiāngyuè's chest—the Heaven's Flame Mark.
And the ceremony ended.
Just like that.
In front of the entire realm.
—
"The dragon has chosen Mù Jiāngyuè!"
"The Heavens favor him!"
"The new Guardian is born!"
—
Mù Qiāntáng had stood frozen in the mist as the chants turned into cheers.
His heart cracked quietly inside his chest.
He could barely hear the Elders proclaiming his brother's name, could barely see the faces of the nobles bowing to him.
It was supposed to be him.
Not that weak, naive fool who had never set foot on a battlefield.
That night, as lanterns burned across the lake, Mù Qiāntáng walked alone into the mountains destroying everything like a beat on rampage as he screamed until his voice bled.
—
From that day onward, hatred became his shadow.
He had trained harder, fought more wars, won countless victories — but no matter what, everyone still looked at his brother with reverence.
The Guardian and his dragon — protectors of the realm.
"While I," Mù Qiāntáng thought bitterly, " the elder brother, am nothing but a forgotten name."
—
He had sworn that day, as the heavens blazed with divine light over the Imperial Lake, that he would one day take back what was rightfully his.
The title of Guardian.
The dragon's recognition.
The glory that should have belonged to him—the elder son of the Mù clan.
He had tried everything to get rid of him.
—
He had tried, oh, how he had tried.
Assassins, poison, deceit, alliances with forbidden sects.
But every attempt had been like striking at a ghost.
At air.
Futile.
His brother and that dragon were always out of reach, protected by the lake's celestial barrier.
Years past and his fury grew cold and impatient.
His youth withered, but his hatred did not.
But it was almost impossible.
This was because the Imperial Lake was sacred ground — even the strongest cultivators dared not trespass.
—
No matter how much he schemed, his brother remained untouchable.
His brother rarely left the Imperial Lake, and when he did, it was always for brief moments so he couldn't do anything.
—
Guardians who bonded with the sacred beasts were bound by celestial law; few dared to even approach them.
They lived secluded within the shimmering borders of the Imperial Lake, where the air shimmered with spiritual mist and the waters pulsed with divine qi.
The place was said to be half a realm of its own—a sanctuary for those chosen by the heavens.
—
Not able to bear it anymore, Mù Qiantáng found another way.
He went to a woman from the Southern Valleys — one they called the Spirit Seer.
No one knew her real name.
She was said to have lived for centuries, walking between the mortal and the spirit world.
Her eyes could pierce barriers, and her shadow could travel through realms.
He paid her with spirit stones, forbidden relics, and even part of his own life essence — all for one thing: to watch them.
And she did.
—
Through her mist mirrors, he watched his brother's life unfold.
—
Once chosen, the Guardian formed an eternal bond with the dragon — their souls intertwined, life and death linked.
They must protect the Gate of the Three Realms (三界之门) — the hidden passage that connects the Celestial Realm, Lingxuan, and the Mortal World.
If the gate faltered, chaos spilled — and realms crumble.
Guardians possessed powers that no mortal cultivator can wield:
Commanding divine beasts through spirit resonance.
Summoning flames that cleanse corruption and illusion.
Healing and controlling the Qi flow of the realm itself.
—
But it all comes at a cost — the Guardian's lifespan is halved, and his emotions are bound.
The more he loved, the faster his spirit decays.
That is why Guardians were forbidden to marry or bear children.
But Mù Shenyang did.
—
He saw the laughter within the lake's silvery glow, the young Guardian's devotion to his dragon, the peaceful days spent with his wife, and then… the birth of their child.
—
A girl.
Born under a clear silver shining moon.
The lake had glowed brighter that night than it had in centuries.
That child… Mù Xuán.
From the moment he saw her tiny silver hair and the faint light radiating from her skin, Mù Qiāntáng knew—she was not ordinary.
The lake's energy pulsed within her.
—
A century passed, and the Gu Shī kept him informed.
Every day.
Every breath.
He was almost getting tired.
Tired of waiting.
Until—
—
Until one day—just days ago—he saw through the mist mirror the moment the little girl begged her father to let her see the outside world.
He had watched as she tugged on her father's sleeve, her voice soft yet filled with longing.
Her father, the calm and noble Guardian, had hesitated.
He had looked toward the sleeping dragon, then at his daughter's pleading eyes, and finally—he had smiled.
A small smile.
He agreed.
That one moment of compassion would become their doom.
Mù Qiāntáng's lips had curled into a cruel smirk as he turned from the mirror.
Finally.
After all these years, the heavens had opened a door.
—
Mù Qiantáng immediately went to the Celestial Palace.
He knew the Queen's obsession with the dragon.
She had tried countless times to capture it, but the beast's power was beyond imagination.
When he told her he could bring the dragon to her, the Queen laughed.
"Even my best armies cannot set foot near the Imperial Lake," she said coldly. "And you think you can?"
"I can — because I know when the dragon sleeps. I can give you the dragon's blood," he'd told her, bowing low. "But I want the Guardian's seat."
The Queen's eyes sharpened. "Speak."
"The Guardian will leave the lake. His power will weaken away from the divine qi. The dragon slumbers. It cannot be awakened easily. If you lend me your elite troops, I will give you the dragon's spirit before it wakes."
For a moment, silence filled the hall.
Then, the Queen smirked.
"Very well," she said. "But if you fail, Mù Qiantáng, I'll have your soul refined into dust."
He accepted without hesitation.
The Queen gave him her best — the Silver Armored Division, soldiers trained in both qi and killing intent.
—
Together, they set up an ambush at the foot of the mountain, right where the Guardian and his family would pass.
Everything had been perfect.
Except it wasn't.
—
When he finally saw his brother's family approach, hand in hand, laughter on their lips, his heart beat faster.
He had waited too long.
This was finally his moment.
Finally after all this years.
—
However, when Mù Qiantáng saw him, he realized just how strong his brother had become.
The aura around him was terrifying — calm, yet deep as the lake itself.
—
The fight started.
—
They clashed.
The sky split open.
The ground cracked.
Every strike of his sword echoed with the lake's roar.
Even the Queen's soldiers trembled beneath that power.
—
The soldiers were scattered like leaves in a storm.
Mù Qiantáng had underestimated him.
His brother had spent centuries cultivating within the lake's endless flow of divine qi — his body and spirit had long surpassed mortal limits.
—
Half a day passed, and still, Mù Qiāntáng could not bring him down.
The sky had turned black with clouds as they fought.
Thunder rolled.
Blades clashed.
Qi collided with qi, shaking the earth itself.
—
His brother fought like a beast cornered, all while protecting his daughter and wife.
—
Every time he thought his brother would fall, the man rose again — slower, bleeding, but unyielding.
And then, his own energy started fading.
He could feel the chill creeping into his bones, his breath turning heavy.
His sword trembled.
When he saw his soldiers dying one after another, fear — the same fear he thought he had long buried — began to rise again.
—
However, the heavens were on his side.
He'd struck — the blade had pierced Mù Jiāngyuè's core, and the man's strength had faltered instantly.
His brother's stance broke, his breathing shallow and uneven.
However, when he realised he was going to die, instead of fighting back, he took his wife and injured child and ran — desperate, dragging his wounded body through smoke and blood.
Mù Qiāntáng had raised his bow, eyes burning with madness.
He hadn't aimed to kill his brother then — not yet.
He'd wanted to watch him suffer, to watch him break.
So he aimed at the child instead.
If he killed the girl, his brother would lose control.
He'd go berserk.
And Mù Qiāntáng would win.
But before the arrow could reach its mark, she moved — that injured woman — Ning Xuě.
She had thrown herself in front of the girl without a second thought.
The arrow buried deep in her chest.
Mù Jiāngyuè's scream tore through the forest, his eyes wide with horror as he caught her falling body.
But his own wounds — poisoned and deep — had already begun to drain the life from him.
His strength was gone; his Qi scattered.
In that moment, he was no longer a Guardian — only a dying man clinging to his wife and daughter.
—
After everything—
—
And now here he was.
—
He tried to rise, but his arm hung useless, shattered by her unleashed power.
Blood trickled from his lips.
His vision blurred.
Still, he called to her. "Xuán'er…"
But her eyes were blank, glowing.
The weapons trembled in the air, ready to strike.
Zhu Yuan roared above them—its fury shaking the clouds.
Mù Qiāntáng's eyes stung with bitterness.
How had everything come to this?
Wasn't he supposed to be the one standing beside the dragon?
Wasn't he supposed to be the one chosen by Heaven?
His breath came ragged now, more blood spilling from his lips.
—
If only he had planned better…
If only he had waited a little longer…
If only…
—
He'd always been the brilliant general—the man whose name the battlefield feared.
But this time, he had failed miserably.
Not because of strategy… but because of pride.
—
He looked up just in time to see the great beast rear its head, its scales glimmering with white fire.
The light of it turned the night to day.
"No…" he whispered. "Wait—"
The dragon's maw opened.
The world went white.
—
It swallowed him whole.
And in that final instant, as the fire consumed his body, Mù Qiantáng's last thought—
—
He only regretted one thing.
That he would die before he could bask in glory.
He had wanted the dragon.
He had wanted the title of Guardian.
He had wanted the heavens to look down upon him—just once—and see him.
But all he saw now was flame.
—
And then, nothing.
The proud general of the Mù clan was reduced to ash.
When the fire died down, the world was quiet again.
Only the rain fell, washing away the blood and the sins that had stained the valley.
—
Silence.
Ash drifted through the air like falling snow.
Zhu Yuan landed softly beside the child.
The earth beneath its claws steamed.
The floating swords melted back into mist.
The cracks in the ground glowed briefly, then closed.
Mù Xuán's hair dimmed to its normal silver sheen.
Her glowing eyes dulled back to blue.
She blinked, dazed, then saw the two crimson stains where her parents lay.
Her legs buckled.
She stumbled forward, clutching their blood-soaked robes.
"Father… Mother…" she whispered.
Her voice broke. "Why… why did you leave me…"
The dragon lowered its head, a deep rumble echoing from its chest — low, mournful, almost mortal.
She turned and ran, striking its leg with her tiny fists.
"Why didn't you come sooner, Zhu Yuan?!" she sobbed.
"Why did you let them die?! Why are we alone now?!"
The dragon only rumbled again, the sound vibrating through the ruined valley.
After a long while, her crying slowed.
The rain fell softly around them.
She wiped her tear-streaked face, holding her parents' robes tightly against her chest.
"Zhu Yuan…" she whispered, her voice trembling.
"Let's go home… I don't want to stay here anymore…"
The dragon's golden eyes softened.
Slowly, it extended its tail.
She climbed onto it with her small hands and knees, her blood-stained clothes clinging to her tiny frame.
—