“Luo’er!”

Outside the cave, Shrine Water’s spiritual sense brushed a flicker of Nana Toki’s Spirit Energy, a lantern’s tremble in a storm. Her stern face cracked into disbelief.

Why was her disciple inside that furnace of shadows?

The thought barely rose. A needle of pain stabbed her skull like an ice pick under thunder.

Her sent-out sense got scorched to ashes by Nesting Phoenix’s flame inside the cave, a torch cutting through mist.

When spiritual sense is snuffed, the backlash is a tide of ants gnawing bone, a thousand bites under skin.

Shrine Water blanched. Her head felt like a splitting mountain under a crashing wave.

“Second Elder! Are you alright?”

The Third Elder and Fourth Elder rushed from Wu Heng Peak, late as drifting leaves in cold wind. They caught her before she fell.

The foe hadn’t even shown a face. Yet Shrine Water was wounded, a shadow’s blade striking from smoke.

“I’m fine. Save Luo’er…”

Supported by the two, Shrine Water forced herself upright, a pale blossom under frost. Her beauty looked pitiful under ash.

“Nesting Phoenix is inside.”

“Nesting Phoenix?”

The Third and Fourth Elder traded a look, blank as stone tablets under snow. They’d never heard that name.

Clang—clang—

Suddenly, a clear cry rose from the cave, half flute, half birdsong, a silver thread piercing cloud.

It shot skyward, split the heavens, and battered skulls like drums, as if souls would scatter like leaves in a gale.

Outside, the two elders flurried through hand seals, fingers like weaving reeds. They barely held back that cry’s knife-keen edge.

“What thing is sealed in there? Its cultivation shakes mountains.”

They drew Shrine Water to a safer stretch, eyes wary on the black-mouthed cave, a bottomless well breathing fire.

They layered wards around the opening, sigils like thin glass domes under hail. They feared its tremors would sweep the sect.

The flames outside licked those barriers like karmic fire devouring sins. The wards crisped to nothing within breaths, smoke behind glass.

“Where’s the Sect Master?”

Seeing the wards melt, Shrine Water grabbed the Third Elder’s sleeve, a willow clinging in wind. Her voice was weak.

“Send someone to Tianshan for the Great Elder. Otherwise, Cloudpeak Sect will drown in calamity.”

Centuries ago, when Nesting Phoenix’s qi deviation took her, she had already stepped into the Void Stage, a moon crossing clouds.

Centuries since—who knew how far her strength had grown, a river carving canyons under time.

Outside the Great Elder, even three elders trading blows might not leave a scratch, fists like rain on ironwood.

“Don’t panic, Second Elder. The Sect Master already left.”

The Third Elder reinforced the nearby wards, lines tightening like nets on dark water. He pushed Spirit Energy into the seals.

He drew a few pills from his storage ring, cool as jade beads, and pressed them to Shrine Water’s lips.

“Rest. We’ll leave soon.”

Demonic miasma ran rampant, and phoenix fire carpeted the stone. Even a Nascent Soul might fall, a hawk clipped in storm.

Staying here was slow suicide, a candle burning down to stub.

“No. Luo’er is still inside!”

Fear throbbed first like a cracked drum in her chest. Then she tried to surge Spirit Energy, to force her way into the cave.

She barely lifted her hand. How could she enter that sea of phoenix fire, a sea of red knives?

Phoenix fire had already flooded Moonview Peak’s back mountain, red as a crown of embers. It ruled like a tyrant of flame.

If they didn’t leave now, even leaving later would be a dream that burned to smoke.

Boom!

An explosion tore from the cave, and Moonview Peak’s rear mountain shuddered like a beast under a lash.

Sparks and soil rained, stars of ember striking earth. Shrine Water went paper-pale. Pain twisted her chest like a rope.

She spat blood, a crimson thread on white snow, and pitched into darkness.

“Second Elder! Second Elder!”

…

When Nana Toki woke, days had flowed by like ash in wind.

The cave glowed scarlet, a river of red pouring through stone. Everywhere her eyes landed, only red remained, a field of embers.

“You’re awake?”

The voice chimed like jade beads on a plate, an oriole’s call over dawn mist. Nana’s head swam, a bell rung under water.

She blinked and glimpsed a strip of snow-white in the red, a crescent of light on flame.

“You’re…”

The face grew clear as a pond after rain. The girl’s eyes were bright, a calm pool under moon, smiling and quiet.

Her rose-red lips tilted, a small hook on silk. She looked pleased to see Nana wake, a spring bud after frost.

Nana’s brain felt leaden, a pot of iron under fog. She hissed, rubbing her temple, pulling breath like a thread.

The snow-white shape sharpened. Even from below, the curve spoke for itself, two hills under silk.

And not small.

So our villain’s pretty open-minded, huh? Nana pushed herself up, kneading her temples, a tired cat in heat.

Why was she in a burning cave, on a supreme beauty’s lap pillow, a moonlit cushion on fire?

And why wasn’t that supreme beauty wearing clothes, like a flame unbuttoned?

“Feeling better?”

Kneeling behind Nana, Nesting Phoenix leaned close, a lazy cat brushing along warm glass. Her breath feathered Nana’s ear.

Those red lips parted, sweet as ripe berries. Her tease tugged like silk, a promise of a sip of dew.

Nana, flustered, swallowed sparks. “…”

Is this villain lusting after my body, like a hungry wolf eyeing a lamb?

Why’s she moving like a shut-in who’s never seen a girl, a moth circling a lantern?

Wasn’t Nesting Phoenix supposed to be berserk from qi deviation, a feral blaze?

She didn’t look berserk. She looked like honey poured on fire.

“Why won’t you talk to me?”

Her tone pouted, soft as rain on petals. Her jade hands slid around Nana’s slim waist, a serpent curling around warm prey.

Her arms tightened, silk turning into rope. Nana felt her ribs creak like old bamboo in wind.

Oh no. Dead. Dead. A tragic headline under a red sky.

“I’m not ignoring you.”

Nana spoke a heartbeat before her spine popped like kindling. “I just don’t know what to say.”

Fair enough.

Anyone would freeze waking to this scene, a dream painted in flame.

“…”

“Then follow me from now on. I like you.”

She pressed a hand, guiding Nana’s gaze to her own, stars caught in black ink. Her smile tilted, half-fox, half-moon.

Even Nana had to admit, this girl flirted like rain on silk, smooth and cool.

Nesting Phoenix hadn’t seen a living human for so long. Anyone who got close burned, moths to a bonfire.

But this woman was different. She trained the Fusion Flame Art, a path that braided fire with breath.

She hadn’t refined any spirit fire yet. If she accepted Nesting Phoenix’s flames, the cave wouldn’t be lonely anymore.

Nesting Phoenix had already decided to raise Nana, a hawk sheltering a chick under wing.

Even if Nana refused, it wouldn’t matter. Fire claimed what fire wanted.

“Alright. I’ll follow you.”

To her surprise, the woman in her arms agreed fast, a pebble dropped in a still pond.

“You’re not afraid of me?”

Nesting Phoenix cupped Nana’s cheek, fingers warm as sunrise. She was a descendant of the ancient fire phoenix, a star with wings.

From birth she’d been called inauspicious, a comet feared in both Immortal Realm and the mortal world, a thorned rose.

No one had wanted to approach her, a hearth too hot to touch.

Except the woman before her, a hand refusing to flinch from flame.

“I’m not afraid.”

If I feared you, why would I let you out? Nana’s grin felt wolfish under silk.

She planned to hug this thigh and have the heroine erased, a chess piece flicked off the board.

“Then let’s return to the Immortal Realm now.”

The mortal world’s Spirit Energy felt thin, like watered wine. Nesting Phoenix disliked the taste, a fish on dry stone.

“No.”

Nana’s worry rose first, like mist on river. Her master needed care. She couldn’t fly off and leave her behind.

She was only at Foundation Establishment. How to reach the Immortal Realm now, without wings?

People only go up by great ascension and then ascend. What was she supposed to do, strap a rocket to her butt?

“You just said you’d follow me.”

A shadow flickered in Nesting Phoenix’s eyes, a hawk’s edge. Her fingers squeezed Nana’s cheeks, pressure like a red vise.

It felt like she might claw her if refused, a tigress unsheathing claws.

“…”

“It’s not that I won’t follow you. I’ve only just reached Foundation Establishment.”

Nana rushed to explain, reading the heat behind her. “There’s a long road before Great Ascension and flying up.”

“You’re from the Immortal Realm. You know mortals can only enter by ascending, right?”

“…”

Nesting Phoenix wanted to say otherwise, a secret tucked under flame. But Nana was right in the bones of it.

Mortals only get into the Immortal Realm by ascending. No other path exists.

The Immortal Realm’s dense spiritual pressure alone would crush them like drifting reeds under avalanche.

“Then I’ll stay with you until you ascend.”

Nesting Phoenix leaned down and breathed at Nana’s neck, a fox sniffing lavender.

She had finally found someone who didn’t fear her flames, a snowflake that didn’t melt on her palm.

She couldn’t let Nana die casually, a candle snuffed in draft. That would trouble her heart.

And she liked Nana’s scent, a cool note in a hot room, rain on a kiln.

She didn’t mind staying in the mortal world for her, a phoenix folding wings to walk.

Nana felt delight rise like bubbles in sweet tea. A thigh this thick in the mortal world meant she could walk sideways.

When they got out, she’d have Nesting Phoenix smack the heroine, a lightning bolt over a river.

System: “……”

“My name is Feng Luo Luo. What’s yours?”

While rising, Nana fished a robe from her storage ring, a moon-white cloth from a pocket of space.

A supreme beauty loving to streak wasn’t a good habit. Someone had to teach dressing with grace.

“Nesting Phoenix.”

She took the robe and put it on, fingers moving like water over silk. She spoke each word, steady as a bell.

“…”

Emmm. The size felt small, a shell too tight on a pearl.

It came off… spicy. Nesting Phoenix in a red robe was flame wrapped in silk, sensual as twilight on wine.

Her alabaster neck and collarbones gleamed, and a soft swell showed half-hidden, snow under red cloud.

Her skin was like clotted cream, white with a blush, a rose petal cooled on ice.

A simple robe turned sultry under her, a plum blossom burning with perfume.

Even Nana, a fellow woman, felt her grip slip, a hand sliding on polished jade.

They needed a proper fit later. She’d ask her junior sister to tailor one, threads like rain stitching moonlight.

Nana’s expression dimmed with worry, a cloud drifting over sun. How would her master face her after this?

And Nesting Phoenix was the Great Elder’s disciple. If he learned she’d freed the one he sealed with care, his blade might fall.

Thinking of the mess ahead, Nana’s head throbbed, a kettle rattling under high flame.