Ashes Of The Phoenix: The Crimson Pact

Morning arrived dressed in grey. Mist clung to the roofs of the Nine Gates Sect like wet silk, and the chill of the lingering rain made everything feel slower. But the tension in the air moved like a coiled beast, waiting.

Shen Yun woke with a dull ache in his chest. He had dreamt of fire again. Of a hand reaching out through flame. Of a voice calling his name, but never quite clear.

The mark on his wrist was quiet now, barely glowing under his sleeve. Still, it throbbed softly, like a distant heartbeat.

He rose, dressed in silence, and left his chambers.

In the training courtyard, disciples were already moving through morning drills. Li Feng stood near the main steps, arms crossed, gaze sharp as always. His eyes flicked immediately to Shen Yun as the younger boy stepped into the open.

"You're up early," Li Feng said.

"Couldn't sleep."

Li Feng tilted his head. "Nightmares?"

Shen Yun looked away. "Something like that."

There was a pause, filled by the rhythmic clang of wooden swords in the distance.

"Join me," Li Feng said.

Shen Yun hesitated, but nodded.

They walked in silence toward the outer woods. The path was damp with last night's rain, the scent of pine and earth filling the space between them.

"This forest is where I trained when I was younger," Li Feng said. "Before I was sect heir. Before people bowed whenever I passed."

"Must've been nice," Shen Yun said quietly. "To have that kind of place."

Li Feng glanced at him. "You had your own, once."

"I did." Shen Yun's voice tightened. "But it burned."

They stopped beneath a canopy of trees, light trickling down in golden threads.

Li Feng drew a simple practice sword from the stand nearby and tossed another to Shen Yun.

"Let's train."

Shen Yun caught it with a frown. "You want to spar?"

Li Feng smiled faintly. "Consider it breakfast."

Their wooden blades clashed.

Shen Yun moved fast, sharper than he had a week ago. His footwork still carried some hesitation, but there was fire in his stance. Li Feng didn't go easy on him. Every block, every strike was calculated to push him.

He wanted to see how far the boy had come.

And how far he was willing to go.

A blade came close to Shen Yun's side, and he twisted just in time, breathing hard.

"Better," Li Feng said.

"You're holding back."

"A little."

Shen Yun lunged.

Li Feng blocked, twisted, and caught his wrist.

For a brief second, his fingers brushed the edge of the mark.

He held back the flicker of reaction in his eyes.

Shen Yun pulled free, chest rising and falling. "You're always testing me."

"Is that a complaint?"

"It's just..." Shen Yun hesitated. "I don't know what you want from me."

Li Feng lowered his sword.

"Maybe I just want to see what you'll become."

Elsewhere, Wei Lan watched from afar. Again.

He leaned against the trunk of a tree just outside the training grounds, arms folded, expression unreadable. His wound had healed, but not the bitterness.

He saw how Li Feng looked at Shen Yun now. With curiosity. With interest.

With something else.

Something Wei Lan had once hoped to earn.

That evening, back in the archive, Li Feng reopened the Whispering Mirror.

This time, the reflection did not show Shen Yun sleeping.

It showed a vision—a burning temple, a phoenix soaring across the sky. Shen Yun stood beneath it, bathed in flame.

The mark on his wrist pulsed like a star.

Li Feng stared long and hard.

Then whispered:

"You'll trust me eventually."

He placed the scroll beside the mirror.

And opened another.

This one was older.

"To take the phoenix mark... the heart must break. The bond must bleed. Only then can flame be stolen."

Li Feng didn't flinch.

He would gain the Vessel.

By bond.

Or by breaking it.

End of Chapter 10.