Two more months slipped past like a single breath.
Not quiet, no.
Just… dense.
Under Ren Ming's Heavenly Demon Lotus Art, every day on Divine Phoenix Island felt as if someone had taken the South Horizon Region's usual pace, folded it three times, and pressed until new lines appeared in reality itself.
The first shockwaves showed up in the small places.
In the Heavenly Abode's training fields, the air had changed.
Once, this place had been filled with ordinary martial sounds—shouted moves, clashing weapons, heavy breathing. Now, every breath carried a faint pressure, as if the world here was being quietly ground down and rebuilt.
Ling Sen stood in the center arena, spear in hand.
Each thrust he made no longer left just a simple afterimage. A faint lotus mark bloomed in the air with every pierce, a dark-rainbow imprint that clung stubbornly to the arena space before slowly fading. The spear's light no longer simply cut; it remembered.
Heavenly Demon Lotus Martial Intent coiled within the shadows of his strikes. When his spear tore out, the air thickened along its path, as though the world itself flinched a step late.
He stabbed forward.
"Ha!"
The spear's point arrived a fraction earlier than sight could follow, the lotus afterimage blooming behind it like a judge stamping a seal. Lotus patterns flickered on his back for a faint instant—ink-dark petals, their edges dyed in hints of blood-red and thunder-violet, phantom reflections of the art Ren had given them.
Across from him, a reinforced stone puppet staggered back. Lotus marks crawled along its chest, cracking its defense from the inside out. A heartbeat later, the entire upper torso detonated into rubble.
On the next platform over, Ta Ku's roar shook the air.
His bare fist hammered into a stone pillar forged from alloys once reserved for Seven Profound Martial House's deepest foundations. Each punch landed with a heavy, twisting distortion—space itself seemed to bend around his knuckles, then snap back in a burst of force.
Heaven-Piercing Elemental Canon had sunk into his bones.
The shockwaves weren't simple explosions. Fire, wind, and thunder essence compressed around his fist, folding along the shortest path between will and target. When his blow landed, cracks spiderwebbed not just across the surface of the pillar, but deep through its core.
"Again," Ta Ku muttered, drawing back.
He struck.
The pillar that had once easily withstood probing strikes from Houtian experts shattered from the inside, fragments thrown outward in a spiral. For a brief instant, each shard bore faint runes of fire and thunder, evidence of Laws carved into brute force.
Not far away, Zhou Yan's sword light cut arcs through the training ground.
At first glance, his swordplay looked simple—no grand flourishes, just clean, precise cuts. But the air that his blade traced was etched with red-gold runes that hung for a breath before fading.
Fire, wind, thunder—each stroke birthed a rune, each rune nested inside the next. The Heavenly Demon Lotus patterns along his meridians taught his true essence to leave marks in space with every cycle; the modified Heretical God Force thickened that essence until even a casual swing could leave behind a Law scar.
By the end of the second month, Ling Sen, Zhou Yan, Ta Ku, and the other Heavenly Abode disciples had all broken through to varying levels of mid Houtian.
But their "mid Houtian" was not the fragile, hollow stage the Sky Spill Continent was used to.
Every meridian in their bodies had been tempered by Ren's modified Heretical God Force. Every circulation of true essence slid along routes that had been subtly reshaped by Heavenly Demon Lotus patterns, teaching their bodies to remember force as Dao fruits embedded in bone and blood.
The Seven Profound Martial House elders watched from the sidelines with a complicated mix of pride and fear.
"This is…" one elder muttered, watching Ta Ku's fist obliterate a pillar that had once calmly withstood their disciples' full strength. The shattered fragments still bore faint Law marks, smoldering like seals that refused to vanish.
Another elder swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing.
"If they enter Xiantian with this foundation…"
He didn't finish.
He didn't need to.
The image rose unbidden in all their hearts—Heavenly Abode disciples stepping into Xiantian, each one carrying a foundation that could crush peers like insects. If such a group grew to maturity, what would Seven Profound Martial House even be in the future?
A local power?
Or just a footnote in the wake of a man whose Dao came from somewhere far beyond Sky Spill?
Far to the south, on Divine Phoenix Island's main island, the changes were even more exaggerated.
The disciples who had first received Ren's modified Heretical God Force and Heavenly Demon Lotus patterns—the ordinary inner and outer disciples of Divine Phoenix Island—had already been pushing into Xiantian and half-step Revolving Core. That alone would have been enough to turn heads across the South Horizon Region.
Two more months passed.
Two more months of cultivating in training grounds whose stone floors, pillars, and air itself had been etched with lotus lines and Heaven-Piercing circulation diagrams. Two more months of living inside fields shaped by grandmist's memory, phoenix flames, and thunder-ice.
The shift stopped being momentum.
It became irreversible.
On a wide crimson plaza beneath a sky dyed sunset-red by endless phoenix flames, Vermillion Bird disciples sat cross-legged, flames swirling around them. Their fire was no longer just blazing heat; every spark carried a faint metallic sharpness, as though tiny blades were being born and destroyed in each flicker.
A young male disciple exhaled, crimson flames pouring from his pores. Each tongue of flame curled unnaturally straight, compressing into thin red-gold lines before vanishing into his dantian.
"The fire listens to my will more than before," he whispered, eyes wide. "It's like the world's flame wants to move in formations now…"
On the Blue Luan side, frost lakes stretched out like mirrors under a pale sky.
But this ice was no longer simple cold.
If one looked closely, tiny threads of purple lightning flickered deep within the ice layers. Blue Luan disciples cultivated over that frost, their true essence circulating as icy light, yet every cycle ended with a faint crackle.
An ice spear slid into the lake's surface.
The water did not merely freeze; lightning spiderwebbed beneath the ice sheet, lines of power leaping and exploding silently, as if thunder had been locked into a mirror.
Even those without bright innate talent found their bottlenecks loosening like rusted bolts that had suddenly been soaked in oil. Cultivation manuals that had once taken years to push through a single minor realm now seemed almost… cooperative.
By the time the fourth month neared its end, if one listed the numbers coldly, any power in the South Horizon Region would have paled.
Dozens of Divine Phoenix disciples stood firmly at solid Xiantian.
Over a dozen had stepped into half-step Revolving Core.
And a handful of core disciples, those who had soaked the longest in lotus patterns and Heretical God Seeds—had already quietly crossed into Revolving Core proper.
All under a fourth-grade Holy Land that, in the past, had always chosen stability over gambling on monstrous geniuses. Divine Phoenix Island had once been the picture of controlled growth. Even when its founder had died attempting the third stage of Life Destruction, the island had chosen caution over madness.
Now…
Now they walked a path reshaped by a man whose Dao had never belonged to this world.
The disciples' transformations were the storm on the surface.
In the sealed depths beneath the main palace, the tectonic plates were grinding.
Deep below the main palace, beyond formations that even Divine Sea powerhouses would have hesitated to disturb, lay a secret chamber where only a handful were permitted to tread.
Three phoenix flames burned in the darkness.
No—
Not flames.
Worlds.
Each mass of fire had been condensed into a self-contained trial realm, suspended above an array carved with phoenix runes and grandmist lotus lines. Within each flame-world, a woman's body shattered.
Mu Qianyu.
Mu Bingyun.
Mu Qingyi.
Their bones splintered into ash. Meridians that had once been proud rivers of true essence broke like fine glass threads. Blood and true essence melted together into a chaotic slurry—not the clumsy collapse of failure, but the guided destruction of the first Life Destruction barrier.
Mu Qianyu's Vermillion Bird fire roared in her trial world.
Phoenix cries echoed with each cycle as flames stripped flesh down to pure phoenix essence, burning away every trace of mortal impurity. Her body collapsed again and again, each time dissolving faster, the flames growing more precise, more cruel.
In the second world, Mu Bingyun's ice turned inward.
Her trial domain became a world of endless snow, every flake a scalpel. Each slow, silent fall of frost froze meridians, then fractured them with surgical ruthlessness. Cracks spread through flesh and bone, illuminated from within by soft blue Dao lines as if the Laws themselves were etching her apart.
In the third, Mu Qingyi walked between hot and cold.
Flames ran cold and icy winds burned. Ice and fire alternated, intertwining in cycles that washed over her body like tides. With each sweep, more of her old shell crumbled away, collapsing into light and dust until there was nothing left but Law marks circling her soul.
Under the ancient laws of the lower realm, this was where risk lay.
Imperfect guidance birthed damaged foundations.
Imperfect destruction birthed flawed spirit bodies.
But these three did not walk under lower realm's ancient laws alone.
Above each flame-world, a Heavenly Demon Lotus bloomed—dark petals rimmed with faint rainbow light, grandmist seeping down like rain made of origin. The Heavenly Demon Lotus Art Ren had reshaped for this world wrapped itself around each woman's Life Destruction.
Where most Life Destruction experts' bodies shattered once, twice, perhaps three times, these three women's shells were ground down through dozens of micro-cycles.
Bones collapsed, reformed, collapsed again.
Meridians wove themselves anew, then were quietly broken and rewoven once more.
Each collapse was smoother than the last, each recondensation guided by lotus patterns that remembered perfection and refused to accept anything less.
Mu Qianyu's consciousness hovered on the edge of oblivion.
In one shattering, she was flame, nothing but Vermillion Bird fire roaring beneath the heavens. In the next, she was ash, scattered through winds of grandmist, feeling the touch of Ren's Dao as a steady presence above the storm.
So this is Life Destruction… she thought faintly.
It should have been terrifying.
Yet every time she dissolved, every time her sense of "self" thinned like smoke, she felt a gentle, invisible gravity from above. Lotus petals folded around her essence, keeping it from dispersing, weaving her soul through strips of Law as if stitching a new tapestry.
Mu Bingyun's experience was different.
She floated within an endless snowstorm—her body gone, replaced by countless snowflakes that each held a piece of her senses. Each flake bore delicate Water and Wind Dao lines, and at their core, a tiny thread of thunder humming softly.
She watched her own past injuries, her old limitations, as fissures drawn in ice… then watched them disappear as her flakes cracked, melted into light, and reformed with new patterns.
Mu Qingyi's awareness spun in layers.
Ice petals and flame tides circled around a core of azure-white light: her soul. Every time one layer shattered, it reformed with one less flaw, one more seamless integration of ice, wind, and thunder.
In that space between destruction and rebirth, she saw faintly how Ren's lotus lines had wrapped around her, where his Dao had tugged on her Phoenix bloodline.
Time here had no meaning.
Destruction followed rebirth, rebirth followed destruction, until even dread grew numb.
And then—
The final shattering came.
It was almost quiet.
Mu Qianyu's flesh abandoned all pretense of form and became a sea of red-gold fire, violet thunder scattering through it like fallen stars. Vermillion Bird runes and Heretical God Seeds floated within that ocean, their patterns glittering with countless tiny corrections.
Mu Bingyun's world became drifting snow.
Countless flakes turned slowly in the void, each inscribed with Water and Wind Dao marks, each humming with a buried thunder note. They swirled in currents guided by lotus lines, forming rivers of ice-light that hid terrifying depth.
Mu Qingyi's shell transformed into concentric ice petals, thin as breath, revolving around a core of azure-white brilliance. That core pulsed slowly in time with her soul, every beat stronger than the last.
Above them, lotus petals opened.
They reformed.
Spirit bodies rose from fire and frost, not as simple recreations of their former selves, but as refined versions polished by dozens of micro-Life Destructions.
Mu Qianyu's new body glowed faintly even at rest.
Beneath her skin, tiny phoenix runes and thunder lines crisscrossed like a natural array. Each breath she drew pulled in heaven and earth essence with an ease closer to geniuses born beneath Divine Realm skies than a fourth-grade sect's disciple from a mere continent.
Mu Bingyun's skin resembled carved ice jade, clear and flawless, yet warm to the touch. Laws flowed beneath that surface like rivers hidden beneath a frozen lake. One could sense Water and Wind sliding under the skin, thunder occasionally crackling as a faint light in her eyes.
Mu Qingyi's aura, once restrained, now stretched freely.
Ice, wind, and thunder hummed together around her in quiet harmony, no longer clashing. Even when she simply stood there, the air nearby cooled and light bent slightly, acknowledging a new axis.
Within the Magic Cube, Mo Eversnow watched.
Her white robes fluttered in a wind that did not belong to the chamber, eyes half-lidded as countless Dao lines flickered through her vision. She saw the lotus patterns, the grandmist strands, the way Ren's alterations had forced Life Destruction to pursue perfection instead of accepting "good enough."
After a long time, she let out a soft breath.
"Four months to reach Life Destruction…" she murmured, voice echoing off sealed phoenix stone. "This is already far, far beyond what World King Holy Lands can cultivate in their core disciples."
Her gaze moved from Mu Qianyu's terrifyingly dense foundation, to Mu Bingyun's calm, crystalline world, to Mu Qingyi's harmonized Law resonance.
"This kind of Life Destruction foundation would only be raised in the Divine Realm," she continued quietly. "For candidates meant to climb all the way to Great World King… perhaps even as trial pieces for an Empyrean Heavenly Palace's succession."
Ren stood nearby with his hands in his sleeves, posture loose, as if he were merely watching a slight drizzle, not three miracles being born.
He closed his eyes, speaking lazily through his Spiritual Sea.
"That high, huh?" he said.
Mo Eversnow's lips curved faintly.
"You ask that," she replied, "as if you did not build the road yourself."
Ren opened his eyes and smiled, gaze softening as he watched the three women slowly open their own eyes in their new spirit bodies.
"Building roads is easy," he said. "Walking them without tripping is where these three make me look good."
Mu Qianyu's lips trembled into a curve, her eyes misting for a brief moment before she hid it behind a roll of flame in her gaze. Mu Bingyun's normally cool eyes softened at the edges, a warmth thawing the chill. Mu Qingyi, still half-dazed by the clarity of her new senses, simply stared at Ren as if seeing him for the first time again.
And this was only the beginning.
Elsewhere on the island, in another sealed chamber:
Mu Yuhuang sat alone at the center of a vast phoenix array.
Phoenix cries echoed faintly from the carved walls. Behind her, the Vermillion Bird Totem spread its wings wide, flame feathers falling one after another. Each feather was a law mark, dropping slowly, then dissolving into her formation.
She had already crossed the first Life Destruction barrier under Ren's revised system.
The second was different.
Where the first Life Destruction focused on tearing down the mortal body and birthing a spirit body, the second began the path of true transcendence—dantian, true essence, core. It was here that Divine Phoenix Island's founder had failed when attempting the third, leaving behind a warning carved into the island's very bones.
Mu Yuhuang knew those stories better than anyone.
She simply closed her eyes.
The lotus patterns around her did not merely support; they reshaped the relationship between her Phoenix bloodline and the Life Destruction realm itself. Grandmist currents slipped between Vermillion Bird flames, pulling their arrogance down, teaching them to flow along Ren's Heaven instead of Sky Spill's.
Her first Life Destruction had been clean—a textbook perfection for a Holy Land master.
Her second…
Was art.
Her spirit body collapsed.
Phoenix flames surged, then sank inward. Her Vermillion Bird bloodline flared to its peak, then dissolved, melting into formless red-gold light. The Vermillion Bird Totem behind her blurred, its form stretching, thinning, becoming countless lines of Law that wrapped around the collapsing spirit body.
Lotus lines descended.
Heavenly Demon Lotus petals unfolded above her head, casting down strands of grandmist that seeped into her dissolving core. Her dantian cracked; Revolving Core true essence shattered into innumerable motes, each one stripped of its previous "shape."
For a terrifying instant, she was nothing but a cluster of floating Law marks and scattered essence.
Then the lotus tightened.
Her spirit body reformed along new paths.
Not merely "Divine Phoenix Island's highest standard," but tuned to resonate with the grandmist principles of Heavenly Demon Heaven itself. The Phoenix in her blood no longer just burned; it listened to an older origin.
When she condensed fully, her spirit body's density had risen to a level comparable to the Heaven's Chosen of the higher worlds.
The flames wreathing her body had changed.
They were not simply stronger. In battle, they would no longer clash against defenses in a straightforward blaze. Instead, they would slip like thin tongues of fire beneath shields, trace along formations, find weaknesses like predators sniffing out a wound.
The Vermillion Bird Totem behind her opened its eyes.
Across Divine Phoenix Island, a wave of phoenix pressure rolled out and then pulled back, as though the island itself had briefly taken a deeper breath.
Not far away, in a deeper, older chamber where the stone still remembered the first ancestor's death under failing Life Destruction, another trial unfolded.
Mu Fengxian sat alone at the heart of a sea of flame.
No.
She knelt.
Then she dissolved.
Once, she had been a 1st stage Life Destruction martial artist—her talent dulled by time, her foundation scarred by old injuries and years of sacrificing herself to maintain Divine Phoenix Island's core. Even standing at the peak of the South Horizon Region, she had quietly accepted that her path was… over.
Under Ren's system, that fate had been torn up.
He had already pushed her into the 2nd stage Life Destruction, brushing away dust that had clung for centuries. Now, within this four-month span, she aimed at the third.
Thunder-light lotus shadows wrapped around her old bones.
Phoenix flames and grandmist currents flowed together, diving deep into the scars that had once seemed permanent—failed breakthroughs, battle wounds, the silent erosion caused by centuries of carrying the island's fate on her shoulders.
The third Life Destruction was where many geniuses stalled forever.
Mu Fengxian did not stall.
Her body cracked.
Layers of aged flesh and worn-out meridians fell away like old lacquer peeling from an ancient painting. Bones fissured, then shattered; phoenix fire invaded the marrow, burning away the residue of long years, leaving raw, bright potential.
Her consciousness hovered in a space filled with flames and lotus shadows.
She saw herself as she had been—young saintess, spear in hand, standing proudly on the ancestral mountain with phoenix fire swirling around her. She saw herself as she had become—thin shoulders bowed beneath responsibility, lines at the corners of her eyes from frowning at endless petitions.
Then those images burned.
Lotus petals fell across them like seals, reducing regret and fatigue to ash.
Her third Life Destruction did not only tear at her body.
It swung a blade through the tangled knot of "High Ancestor Mu Fengxian."
The old ancestor who had quietly accepted stagnation… died in that sea of flame.
When her body finally shattered entirely, there was a long, deep silence.
Only grandmist currents moved, weaving through falling phoenix feathers.
From within the Phoenix Flame Sea—
Something rose.
A woman stepped out of the flames.
Her hair, once streaked with silver, now fell in a smooth, inky waterfall with a faint crimson gloss, like night soaked in phoenix blood. Her eyes, always sharp, now glowed with heightened clarity—irises ringed with dark-gold phoenix patterns that seemed to flicker when she focused.
The faint stoop that years of pressure had carved into her shoulders vanished. Her spine straightened, long legs unfolding with casual grace as she stood upright.
She looked barely older than Mu Qianyu.
But everyone who saw her instinctively understood:
This was no mere return to youth.
Her presence pressed down on the chamber like a mountain wreathed in flame. Her spirit body had passed through three Life Destructions—each one guided, corrected, and amplified by Heavenly Demon Lotus and Ren's Dao. The density of her foundation made even Mo Eversnow's eyes narrow in genuine seriousness.
Mu Fengxian stepped out of the Phoenix Flame Sea in a simple red robe, damp hair clinging to her shoulders, phoenix flames licking lazily around her ankles. Every step left lotus-rimmed fire marks in the air—the traces hung there for a long moment before slowly fading.
Her face was that of a woman in her prime: breathtaking, composed, bright with intelligence tempered by centuries of experience.
The elders who caught sight of her nearly forgot to kneel.
"That's… High Ancestor…?"
"Saintess…?"
Voices shook.
Some of the older elders felt their throats close. In their memories, the High Ancestor had always been an old figure, a distant, unshakable mountain. Seeing that same aura wrapped around a youthful, devastatingly beautiful body felt like seeing heaven itself change faces.
Mu Fengxian ignored all of them.
Her gaze went straight to the figure lounging near the entrance of the flame sea, hands in his sleeves, smiling as if today's events were nothing more than a pleasant stroll.
Ren lifted a hand and waved casually.
"Welcome back, Fengxian."
He didn't look surprised in the slightest.
Something in her chest clenched.
He had held her when her flesh was falling apart. He had kissed her before the wrinkles vanished, hands gentle on skin that time had already scarred. He had whispered to an old ancestor whose beauty the world had already sealed under the label "past tense," treating her like a woman, not a relic.
Now that she looked like the saintess she once was?
His gaze hadn't changed at all.
Still warm.
Still amused.
Still a little hungry, if she read the gleam hiding in the depths of his eyes—yes. But not because of her new face.
Because she was her.
Heat she couldn't blame on phoenix fire rose up her neck.
In the days that followed, Divine Phoenix Island witnessed a sight no elder had expected to see in this lifetime.
Their High Ancestor walked down from the main ancestral mountain.
Often.
And almost always, her steps led toward one particular place.
Ren's courtyard sat on a quiet slope, overlooking the Phoenix Flame Sea and the training grounds below. By now, there was an unspoken rule:
If you had a minor matter, you went to Mu Yuhuang or one of the elders.
If you wanted to disturb Ren Ming personally, you needed to be one of his women.
Mu Fengxian did not hesitate at all.
The first time she came after her tribulation, it was still afternoon.
Sunlight slanted over the red roof tiles; phoenix cries echoed faintly in the distance. In the sky above the training grounds, Murong Zi and Bai Jingyun were sparring, spear and sword drawing lotus-lined scars through the clouds.
Murong Zi's spear traced red-gold arcs that exploded in thunder blossoms when they collided with Bai Jingyun's sword light. Bai Jingyun's blade work, guided by Azure True Dragon blood and his own growing Intent, carved precise wounds into the air, each stroke leaving behind thin, fading sword marks.
Below that sky, Ren sat on a stone bench beneath a flame tree, robe loose, a jade slip resting on his knee. True essence flowed lazily around him, lotus petals of Dao light flickering at the edge of perception.
He sensed her long before her foot touched the path.
"Fengxian," he said, not looking up at first. "You're supposed to rest."
"I have rested enough."
Her voice was clear, carrying both the calm authority of an ancestor and a softer tone that few had ever heard from her.
Ren raised his head.
Mu Fengxian stood at the courtyard gate.
The red robe hugged her now-youthful figure, phoenix flame embroidery catching the light. Her hair cascaded down like a waterfall of ink-dark fire; her eyes, which had once watched over an entire fourth-grade sect with stern patience, now watched one man with a complicated expression.
Ren's lips curved.
He rose, walking toward her as though the world beyond this courtyard truly didn't exist.
"You're staring," he said lightly. "Do I look that good today?"
Mu Fengxian snorted, the tips of her ears reddening despite herself.
"This old ancestor came to inspect the guest who has been turning my island upside down," she said coolly. "Do you have an objection?"
Ren stepped a little closer.
The faint scent of phoenix fire wrapped around him, mixing with his own grandmist aura.
He leaned in just enough that his breath brushed her ear.
"No objection," he murmured. "You can inspect me whenever you want."
Her heart gave a small, traitorous jump.
His tone was relaxed, almost lazy, but the warmth in it wrapped around her like a familiar flame. Before she could respond, his hand slid smoothly around her waist, drawing her into the courtyard as naturally as breathing.
"Come on," he added with a grin. "If you're going to monopolize me, at least do it inside. The other girls might want to jump in."
"Who said this old ancestor is monopolizing—"
The door of the inner room slid shut behind them.
Outside, Murong Zi's spear paused mid-thrust.
Bai Jingyun's sword tip dipped slightly.
"…Do you think Ancestor is…?" Murong Zi began, brows rising.
Bai Jingyun's calm gaze flickered just once.
"Cultivating," she said.
There was a tiny pause.
Murong Zi coughed into her hand.
"Right. Cultivating."
Lightning flickered around her spear tip as she turned back to the duel with a face that was perhaps a shade redder than necessary.
In private, Mu Fengxian's restraint burned away faster than phoenix fire on dry tinder.
She was the one who reached for him first.
One moment, Ren was leaning back against a pillar, speaking lazily about adjusting the Phoenix Flame Sea's circulation so that Mu Bingyun's ice Laws could sink deeper without clashing. The next, Mu Fengxian's fingers were gripping his collar, yanking him down.
Her lips crashed into his.
There was no awkward fumbling, no maiden's hesitation.
She kissed like a woman who had decided that centuries of loneliness were enough; like a saintess who had once faced life-and-death trials without blinking and now poured that same courage into claiming what she wanted.
Ren laughed low against her mouth.
One hand braced against the pillar behind her; the other closed firmly around her waist, pulling her closer until the heat of her phoenix flame mingled with the quiet chill of grandmist around his skin.
He answered her without holding back, deepening the kiss until she had to clutch at his shoulder to stay steady.
When they finally parted, both were breathing faster, phoenix flame and grandmist aura tangling in the small space between them.
Mu Fengxian's eyes were slightly unfocused.
Ren looked entirely too pleased with himself.
"See?" he said softly, thumb brushing the corner of her mouth. "You really are the one with the most initiative."
Her cheeks flared crimson.
"You dare speak like this to your senior," she muttered, voice low but lacking any real anger. She didn't step away. If anything, she leaned in, fingers still twisted in his robe.
Ren's smile softened.
"As far as I remember," he said, "you're the one who dragged me in here."
"…That is because this old ancestor needed to discuss dual cultivation matters."
"Mm. Is that what we're calling it now?"
"Ren."
His name came out sharper this time, warning and plea tangled together.
Ren chuckled quietly, then lowered his forehead to rest against hers.
"Fengxian," he murmured, voice dropping, the teasing easing for a brief instant, "you know I like it when you're honest with me."
Her heart trembled.
On the main island, she was High Ancestor. Everywhere else, elders bowed, disciples knelt, even Mu Yuhuang treated her with the respect due a senior who had watched generations rise and fall.
Only here could she be just a woman standing in front of a man—heart beating too fast, nerves tangled.
"I…" Her fingers tightened on his collar. "This old ancestor… simply wishes to… spend more time with you."
Ren's eyes warmed.
"Good," he said.
He didn't dress it up with flowery words. He didn't make dramatic promises.
He just bent to kiss her again—slower this time, almost tender. His hand traced the line of her back, quietly memorizing the new strength and smoothness of her spirit body, the way her phoenix flame responded instinctively to his touch.
Outside the room, the island's flames burned on.
Inside, dual cultivation began.
Ren had never once hidden how much he enjoyed this part of life.
He was unabashed in bed—utterly confident in how to coax out a woman's buried desire, utterly shameless in how he praised them afterward. With Mu Fengxian, he took particular delight in peeling away the last remnants of the "old ancestor" mask, drawing out the woman who had been buried beneath it for far too long.
What the island saw was simple:
The next morning, the phoenix flames around the main island burned brighter.
Mu Fengxian's aura grew even more refined.
And the High Ancestor walked out of Ren's courtyard with lips faintly swollen and eyes carrying a softness no tribulation could forge.
It did not stop with one visit.
On quiet evenings, when the training fields had settled and the sea breeze carried the smell of salt and faint cinder, a familiar figure would streak across the sky, wrapped in a slender phoenix shadow.
Mu Fengxian would land in front of Ren's courtyard as naturally as if she were returning to her own chambers.
Sometimes, Mu Qianyu or Mu Bingyun were already there—speaking with Ren about adjusting their new spirit bodies to match their cultivation arts, or simply resting in the shade, heads pillowed on his lap as he lazily combed his fingers through their hair.
Mu Fengxian's gaze would flick to them.
Phoenix flame rose subtly in her eyes.
"This old ancestor came first today," she would say calmly, folding her arms beneath her chest. "It is my turn to monopolize him tonight."
Mu Qianyu would cough lightly, the tips of her ears turning red.
"Ancestor, we were just—"
Ren would laugh, slipping an arm around Qianyu's shoulders and reaching out his other hand toward Fengxian.
"There's plenty of time," he said lazily. "Come here."
Sometimes, Mu Fengxian would pause for half a breath.
Old pride, newfound possessiveness, and the awareness of Qianyu and Bingyun's feelings all wrestled inside her chest. Ren never pushed. He just watched her with that patient, relaxed smile of his, thumb drawing idle circles on Qianyu's arm.
The first few times, she would sniff coldly and drag him away alone, muttering about "proper order" and "not spoiling this girl too much."
Later—very slowly—she began to waver.
When Ren murmured in her ear, deliberately low, about "maybe inviting Qianyu next time… or Bingyun… cultivating together might not be a bad idea," Mu Fengxian's face would burn from ears to collarbone.
"You… you really…" She would glare at him, breath unsteady. "How can you say such shameless words so casually?"
Ren would only grin, leaning close enough that his breath tickled her neck, praising her in that maddeningly straightforward way of his.
How serious and beautiful her eyes were when she focused.
How her voice softened around his name when she stopped paying attention.
How adorable it was when an ancestor got jealous like a young girl.
She never once truly refused the idea.
She never said "never."
She only sputtered, clung to him harder, and claimed her own turns with even more stubborn insistence.
To Ren, that was very good progress.