Chapter 5- Scorched Path

Night in Meiyuan was unnaturally still, the roads curled in fog like secrets unwilling to be touched. Wang Li drove with the precision of a man chasing ghosts. His mission was clear—but his heart was unsettled.

Beside him sat Young Master Yan, face half-lit by dashboard glow, black eyes scanning the passing streetlights. They were headed toward a covert military site, following trails tied to an ancient trafficking ring.

But the air shifted when they reached the burnt fields.

"Stop," Wang Li whispered.

They stepped out. Silence.

And then—movement.

A scorched trail stretched ahead, grass turned to ash in a winding path that seemed carved by something barely alive.

At the end of the trail, a girl.

She lay half-curled on the edge of the gravel. Soot-streaked limbs. Bloodied forearms. Tattered fabric barely concealing her. Her breathing was shallow.

"Dear heavens…" Yan murmured, voice cracking as he rushed forward.

He shed his coat without hesitation, wrapping it around her trembling body and pulling her into his arms. The moment he touched her, time fractured.

A memory—not his own—flashed.

Daisies. Moonlight. A girl laughing as feathers fell. Her voice… calling his name.

His arms stiffened. His breath faltered.

He blinked—and the vision scattered like dust.

Wang Li knelt beside them. His eyes swept across her injuries, then stopped.

At her collarbone.

A necklace—red stone, feather-shaped, glowing faintly.

His blood turned cold.

Not a pendant.

A seal.

The Phoenix Crest.

Passed only to those marked by fire and chosen by lineage. The birthmark had shifted—morphed into this divine relic. He hadn't seen it in centuries, only heard whispers from high priests in his youth. His grandfather once said: "When the red stone hums, blood remembers."

He turned to Yan, voice low.

"Do you feel it?"

Yan's brows knit. "What?"

Wang Li didn't answer. His gaze locked onto the necklace as if it held history's breath.

In that moment, he understood.

This girl wasn't just the missing child. She was prophecy reborn.

"Ming Yue…" he breathed. "Little moon…"

Inside the Qi estate, a carved phoenix seal resting in a hidden drawer shimmered without being touched. Qi Longwei paused mid-step, his hand hovering near an ancient scroll.

Qian Fei, watching the rain, turned her gaze upward. A red bird soared overhead, vanishing into mist.

"Dear heavens," Longwei said softly.

"The mark chose to awaken," Fei replied. "The necklace… must have formed."

Fei couldn't help but feel an instinctive pain in her heart.

Although, red marks were not rare in the clan, but one that takes a physical form has only been reported every millennium.

Back at the burnt field, Ming Yue stirred faintly.

The red stone pulsed once.

Yan didn't notice it. But Wang Li did.

"We need to take her to Diamond Heart Hospital," Wang Li said, his voice calm but charged.

In the rearview mirror, as they drove through the winding roads, Wang Li watched Ming Yue sleep in Yan's arms. And for the first time in decades, he felt something ancient awaken in his veins.

A whisper.

From the phoenix army of old.

Protect the flame. Until she remembers who she is.