Azure flames fluttered before me, and a giant bird formed of fire—an Azure Luan—appeared right in front of me. Sylvia Blue drifted over, hooked one arm around the bird’s neck, and, delighted, pressed her head against it, nuzzling over and over.
“It’s so beautiful. It feels wonderful.”
The bird’s true form never appeared; it remained shrouded in flames. But I knew this was the Azure Luan—just as I’d seen in my dreams. The weight and warmth in my hands filled me with a profound joy.
“Where are the other four?”
I asked, and the Azure Luan shook its head.
“I’m sorry, Ethan Zhang. You’ve done so much for me, but I can’t help you any further.”
I immediately realized something: there was no passage in this world that could accommodate our physical bodies. Smiling, I shook my head.
“Thank you, Azure Luan. You’re leaving, aren’t you? Leaving this world?”
The Azure Luan nodded, its golden eyes watching me with a trace of worry. Sylvia Blue, hands behind her back, tiptoed over to my side, grinning as she gazed at Rachel Lan in my arms.
“We’ll find it—the way home.”
I glanced at Rachel Lan in my arms, then continued speaking.
“I have a home here too!”
The Azure Luan nodded. Around us, the pure white light was fading, and that untainted power slowly weakened.
“Her new body and soul are still fragile. She needs sunlight from the living world—even though there’s a sun here, it’s not the same. Rachel Lan should wake up soon.”
I let out a soft sound of surprise. A stream of azure energy flowed from the Azure Luan’s body, drifting slowly toward me. It circled my nose, then extended into my hand—I felt as if someone had gently held my hand. The Azure Luan closed its eyes, flapped its wings, and with a whoosh, soared into the blindingly white sky above.
“Look, isn’t it beautiful?”
Everything around us was slowly fading. I saw Sylvia Blue holding a single azure feather—pure and flawless, like a gemstone, shimmering with blue light.
“We’re about to descend!”
As Sylvia spoke, the white light around us vanished. She pressed close, wrapping both arms around mine. Suddenly, a blaze of orange-red—my eyes widened. Above the clouds, the sun was setting, dyeing the whole sky in vast swathes of golden-orange.
With a rush, the wings on my back unfurled. Sylvia Blue cheered joyfully. I gently flapped my wings, and in that moment, my heart was calm, filled with hope.
All the unbearable things from the past seemed to have vanished. I glanced at Rachel Lan in my arms—now I could feel her faint breath, the gentle rhythm of her heartbeat. Her body began to tremble.
“Let’s go down quickly. It’s getting cold, and catching a chill wouldn’t be good.”
I nodded, flapped my wings, and broke through the clouds, gliding steadily toward the ground. I noticed the lake formed by curse power was now far behind us.
“It’s moving.”
I stared quietly at the black lake. I’d always thought it was expanding, but in fact, the whole lake seemed alive—it was moving. Maybe it was the Azure Luan’s birth and that surge of power that set it in motion.
The three of us returned to the small building we’d stayed in before. I planned to stay here for a few days, wait for Rachel to recover, and then find a way back to the living world.
After settling Rachel Lan in the third-floor bed, I sat down, feeling light and free of fatigue—perhaps thanks to those powers of life.
Rachel Lan seemed to be asleep, breathing softly, her chest rising and falling. I saw Sylvia Blue tearing up a bedsheet.
“Sylvia, what are you doing?”
“We need to make her some clothes. Or do you want her lying there naked?”
I glanced awkwardly at Rachel Lan’s body, then looked around and stood up.
“Sylvia, go downstairs and find something to cover Rachel with. Let me handle this.”
Sylvia didn’t look like she knew how to make clothes. But I did—though my memory was hazy. Back in the orphanage, the director used to teach us kids, and when I was bored, I’d sometimes make a few things.
I looked around, found something sharp, and started cutting. I could only make something simple—there was no needle or thread, after all.
Soon Sylvia came running upstairs, arms full of blankets. They looked odd, but she quickly covered Rachel Lan with them.
I managed to make a simple long robe, tied at the waist. Sylvia watched, resting her chin in her hand, smiling gently.
“What’s wrong?”
I asked. Sylvia giggled, stood up, took the robe from my hands, draped it over herself, then put it on. She stretched out her arms and asked:
“Does it look good?”
I nodded. The sheet was red, yellow, and blue—just blocks of color, no pattern, and the fabric was odd, neither silk nor cotton.
Sylvia looked delighted, running around. On the bed, Rachel Lan stirred slightly; Sylvia noticed immediately, tiptoed over, and placed the robe at the head of the bed.
I walked over. Rachel Lan had turned to one side, still deep in sleep. Sylvia, like a child, lay at the edge of the bed, resting her chin in her hands, gazing at Rachel.
“She’s so beautiful! Much more than I imagined.”
I pressed a hand to Sylvia’s forehead.
“Thank you.”
Sylvia immediately looked up at me, playful as ever, and asked:
“Who’s prettier—me or Rachel Lan? In your heart?”
I let out a sound, glanced at Sylvia, then at Rachel Lan, and quickly looked away.
“Each has her own beauty.”
Sylvia immediately stood up and grabbed my head with both hands.
“Anyone can say vague things like that. Hmph.”
I smiled awkwardly, my cheeks burning. Sylvia suddenly shoved me, then laughed and ran off. As she headed downstairs, she poked her head back up and said:
“Don’t do anything weird tonight, okay? Rachel Lan’s body is still very weak!”
I let out a sound, and the thump-thump of footsteps echoed down the stairs. I covered my forehead, quietly leaned against the pillow, and turned to look at Rachel Lan.
Then I heard a rustling sound and quickly turned my head.
“Did you forget about me, Qingyuan?”
Ling Snake looked at me helplessly. I quickly got up, took Ling Snake outside, and looked around.
“We need to find something to eat. Rachel Lan is still very weak—she at least needs water.”
Ling Snake shook its head helplessly.
“None of us can go back now. Things are really bad.”
I let out a sound and gazed into the distance.
“Stay here and keep that girl company. I’ll go look.”
“Thank you.”
Spirit Snake darted away. I returned inside, feeling a bit tired. I lay down at the bedside and closed my eyes. Rachel Lan’s gentle breath brought a smile to my lips.
“Goodnight, Rachel.”
I slept deeply and peacefully, drifting in a boundless darkness.
I felt a surge of heat and slowly opened my eyes. The Ghost Ancestor sat across from me, gazing at me with a smile.
“Ethan Zhang, once again you’ve shown me what you call possibility.”
I stared quietly at the Ghost Ancestor. His face was full of wickedness, as if he were pondering something terrible.
“What do you really want to do, now that you’ve come back to life?”
For a moment, the Wraithlord’s face twisted in rage. He clenched his fist, furious.
“Naturally, I’ll make the one who deceived me pay. And that price is the destruction of those she created—by my own hand.”
I swallowed hard. I began to understand why the future Ethan Zhang didn’t want me to touch the Blood Jade. Even if the Immortality Society had obtained two fragments and managed to resurrect the Wraithlord, they still couldn’t control him. No one could. That terrible future kept flashing through my mind.
Suddenly, the Wraithlord laughed, as if mocking me. I looked at him in confusion.
“Don’t worry. You’ll probably never see it in your lifetime, because there’s no one in this world who can break the seal.”
“Why not? Isn’t there the bloodline of Nuwa’s descendants?”
I couldn’t help but ask, puzzled.
“Nuwa’s bloodline, huh… Heh…”
With a burst of wild laughter, the Wraithlord vanished before my eyes. I looked around, but he was nowhere to be seen. What did those cryptic words he left behind really mean?
“Brother…”