In the eastern No-Man's Land, inside the protective dome barrier, time grew wings and flew by.
For immortals, a hundred years passed in the blink of an eye. But inside the dome, two children had already grown to the size of ten-year-old mortals.
What began as a crumbling old cottage hidden deep in the jungle had transformed into a peaceful little paradise—vegetable gardens, landscaped flower beds, and a yard powered by gently turning water turbines. Three beautifully built houses stood on raised platforms, all connected by covered walkway bridges like a floating village tucked inside the forest.
The scent of drying herbs teased Long Xuanji's sensitive nostrils as he moved from one multi-tiered rack to another. These rare herbs, found mostly in the depths of the jungle, were their main source of income. His hair now had streaks of silver, but his knowledge of herbs had only grown sharper with time. Their garden had become something even the Talisman Clan would envy.
He plucked a dried stalk from the tray, sniffed it, and gave a satisfied nod. "We'll have a top-quality supply this year."
Just then, Hu Doubao stomped in, fishing gear in one hand and a basket of fresh fish in the other. Rugged, loud, and full of life, he still looked more like a bear than a man. "Who's cooking tonight? I caught fish!" he declared, dumping the basket on the nearby kitchen table.
"Not me," Yan Lianyu said, carrying a large jar of freshly brewed alcohol into the storage room off the kitchen. "I've been brewing wine all day."
"And I've been helping Teacher Yan," came a sweet voice.
Feng Xiu Lan bounced out of the storage room with a wide, toothy grin. Even at her young age, it was clear she would grow up to be a beauty—but it wasn't her looks that won hearts. It was her sparkling eyes, always full of mischief and curiosity. Even the big, scary Doubao turned soft around her.
He scooped her up with ease. "Then it's settled. Teacher Xuanji will cook today. Let's go check on Mo Yuchen, shall we?" He winked at Feng Xiu Lan and vanished in a blink.
"What? Wait—no!" Xuanji called after them, too late. He sighed, looking helplessly at the stove.
"You've avoided cooking all week," Yan Lianyu said as she shelved the last jar of wine. "Bring your lazy dragon self over here and start prepping dinner."
Xuanji grumbled under his breath. "So much for being the glorified Dragon Elder of the clan."
***
The serene sound of the waterfall, chirping birds, and the rustle of colorful trees filled the air.
Mo Yuchen balanced on his right toes atop a narrow stump, body still in a meditative pose. He had been holding that position for nearly two hours. A few more minutes and he'd break his personal record.
It was Teacher Doubao's turn today. If he didn't complete his martial training properly, punishment would follow. Mo Yuchen had learned from toddlerhood that to his three masters, nothing mattered more than discipline and perseverance.
What he hadn't learned was why he had to suffer through endless training, while Feng Xiu Lan, the pampered princess, got away with everything.
As if summoned by his thoughts, the little devil herself appeared—perched happily on Doubao's shoulders like some royal empress—while he was sweating in the sun, his muscles aching in ways even grown warriors would dread.
"Mo Yuchen!" Feng Xiu Lan squealed and ran toward him.
No, no, don't come near me, you tiny demon! Mo Yuchen cursed silently.
Too late.
With a mischievous giggle, she threw a high side-kick at the stump, knocking it off balance.
"Ah—!" Mo Yuchen shouted as he toppled face-first onto the pebbled ground. Groaning, he rolled over—just in time to see Teacher Doubao's spear heading straight for his backside.
Whack!
"You're getting better at dodging," Doubao said, grinning. Then his tone shifted. "Let's see if you remember the ten steps of the Wind Blade Strikes of my Cloud Piercing Spear!"
Before Mo Yuchen could respond, Doubao launched into the attack. Yuchen dodged and countered through the first five steps, but the sixth caught him off guard, and the seventh struck him in the abdomen, knocking the wind out of him.
Doubao stopped only then. "You've got five more moves to go."
"Yesterday it was six," Feng Xiu Lan said, clapping cheerfully. "Now it's five!"
She tried to copy the steps she'd just seen Mo Yuchen perform. Though her form was decent, she couldn't summon the vital qi needed to execute the moves fully. Confused, she looked up.
"Teacher Doubao, why can't I do these techniques?"
"Because the curse of the heavens doesn't allow Bird Clan members to learn Beast Clan techniques," Doubao answered seriously.
"Then why can he?" she asked, eyeing Mo Yuchen suspiciously.
Mo Yuchen glared. He wasn't enjoying any of this. As soon as one master finished with him, the next took over. His life was an endless loop of pain and training. "Because you're dumb," he shot back flatly.
"I am not! You can't even do any of the Bird Clan techniques. So you're the dumb one!"
"Bird Clan techniques? First transform into a bird. Who knows, maybe you'll end up a chicken," Mo Yuchen teased with a grin.
"At least I know I'll be a bird," Feng Xiu Lan shot back, eyes narrowing. "What about you? Will you even have an animal form?"
"Enough, you two," Doubao interrupted. "It's in Mo Yuchen's blood. He can learn Dragon, Talisman, and Beast Clan techniques."
He turned to Xiu Lan with a softer tone. "Now, be a good girl. Go practice your sword forms while I finish sparring with Mo Yuchen."
Then he looked back at his student, eyes gleaming with challenge.
"Round two, let's go."
Minutes later, both kids went hurtling into the rocky pool with a synchronized splash. Before they could bob back up, Doubao was already beside them, water dripping from his beard.
"Bath time," he declared like a war general announcing an ambush.
The children exchanged a mischievous glance. Without a word, they cast twin water spells at him—soaking his robes and yanking him into the pool with a mighty splash.
***
Two hundred years later.
Mo Yuchen and Feng Xiu Lan had grown into the late teenage years of immortal youth—full of strength, attitude, and far too much energy. The three masters, on the other hand, had gained more grey in their hair and wrinkles from raising the two like restless lion cubs.
Mo Yuchen had become tall, lean, and dangerously sharp-eyed. Dressed like a modest farmer, his braided hair streaked with blue, tied like a horsetail, gave him the air of a young warrior hiding in plain sight. His posture was relaxed—but his steps, precise. Years of training under three elders had sculpted him into a weapon wearing human skin.
Sneak attacks were now second nature.
He was walking through the forest, casually talking with Long Xuanji, when the elder vanished.
Without warning, a ferocious green-scaled dragon plummeted from the clouds, roaring fire and fury. Yuchen didn't blink.
One step sideways, another into the air—then fire crackled where he'd just stood. A tail as thick as a tree trunk swept the clearing, crushing rocks and trees alike. Mo Yuchen whooshed between the destruction like a shadow with purpose.
Then he struck.
He summoned Lingxiao, his blade. With a fluid dragon-cultivation move, he fused wind and cloud into his sword, splitting it into a dozen glowing copies. The blades spun into formation, surrounding the dragon from all sides.
Golden energy surged, a ring of power freezing the dragon mid-roar.
Moments later, the beast shimmered and shrank—revealing Long Xuanji, clapping with a grin.
"Well done," he said, patting Yuchen's shoulder. "You're finally getting good at surprise attacks. You will get better once you can transform into your animal form."
But both master and disciple knew the truth.
"Good" was a laughable understatement.
In Tianxu, there were four levels of cultivation: Basic Realm, Intermediate Realm, Advanced Realm, and the highest Legendary Realm. Each cultivation level had four stages, so there were sixteen stages overall.
And Mo Yuchen?
He had already reached Celestial Ascension, the final stage of the Advanced Realm. At his age, most were still struggling through Qi Refinement. He wasn't just ahead of his peers—he was a prodigy in a league of his own.
***
Back in the dome, the kitchen storage room glowed softly under the lantern light, its shelves heavy with wine jars. The air swirled with the fragrance of peach blossoms and aged spirit, sweet enough to make even a dragon pause at the door.
Feng Xiu Lan, now glowing with youthful charm and rebellious energy, opened a jar of freshly brewed wine and sniffed with pride. "Hmm… smells perfect."
Using a ladle, she poured it into five polished white jars.
Yan Lianyu entered quietly, picked up one jar, and took a delicate sip.
"This is wonderful," she said, eyes lighting up. "The best peach blossom wine I've tasted in centuries. Perfectly balanced."
"Thank you, Teacher Yan," Feng Xiu Lan said, bowing politely. "Your guidance is my secret ingredient."
From the yard came the unmistakable boom of Hu Doubao's voice.
"Finally, the mighty dragons return! Feng Xiu Lan, child! Serve the food before this old bear starves to death!"
"Coming!" she called, balancing the tray of wine jars and trotting off.
As she stepped out, Mo Yuchen arrived, placing his basket down and sliding into a seat. He was just about to dig in when his master intercepted.
"Ah, ah, ah," Doubao said, wagging a finger. "Your masters are hungry. Serve the food first."
Mo Yuchen scowled. Internally, he cursed. Of course, the pampered phoenix princess never had to do anything all by herself. Still, he got up. These three weren't just his teachers—they were the closest thing he had to parents.
Inside the kitchen, Feng Xiu Lan had already resumed her commander-in-chief persona.
"Scoop rice in the bowls," she ordered.
Mo Yuchen narrowed his eyes. No way. Not again. As if it were a law written in stone, he simply had to defy her. Her irritated face brought him an odd sense of joy, like watching thunderclouds gather and knowing you had an umbrella.
With the slow confidence of someone plotting minor war crimes, he picked up a single chopstick—not a pair—and started plucking one grain of rice at a time from the pot.
Each grain landed in the bowl with excruciating care, as if he were performing divine calligraphy.
Xiu Lan's eye twitched. "What are you doing?"
"Scooping," he replied, deadpan.
"You—!" she sputtered. She pointed her two fingers and swiftly cast a spell on him. "That's it. You're getting the Sticky Hands Spell!"
Before he could dodge, she zapped him with her spell. In an instant, Mo Yuchen froze—palms stuck together with the lone chopstick trapped between them, legs fused like bamboo stalks rooted to the ground.
"You can forgo dinner tonight," she huffed, muttering commands to floating dishes.
Mo Yuchen didn't struggle. Didn't blink. Just slowly tilted his head and gave her the most innocent, wide-eyed look he could muster.
She scowled. "Oh, don't act pitiful. You deserved it."
As she bustled about the room, setting dishes and placing wine jars with dramatic flair, Mo Yuchen stood frozen in place—still holding the lone chopstick like a ceremonial blade.
What she didn't know was that the spell barely held him.
He could break it anytime.
But why waste the chance?
No chores. No nagging. Just standing here watching the "pampered phoenix" do it all. It was practically a holiday.
He waited. Patient as a fox. Calculating.
And just as everyone sat at the table, their mouths full and praises flying toward Xiu Lan for the "perfectly laid meal," Mo Yuchen twitched.
Then, with a subtle snap of qi, he let the spell dissolve.
Calmly, with the air of a man who had done absolutely nothing wrong, he picked up a bowl, filled it with rice properly this time, and took his seat.
"Thank you for the service," he said smoothly, looking right at her.
Feng Xiu Lan stared at him, chopsticks paused mid-bite.
Mo Yuchen smiled. Victory, as always, was in the small things.
After everyone ate and showered her with praise, the elders wandered off for their post-meal rest, leaving the two disciples behind to clean up.
While stacking bowls, Xiu Lan sighed dramatically. "Mo Yuchen, bring the rest of the dishes. I'll wash. I need to finish that novel Teacher Doubao brought back last month. He's going to Pingxiao Town soon, and I have to finish reading it so he can exchange it for new novels."
Novel? Mo Yuchen raised a brow. She gets fairy tales. I get talisman theory and spirit vein charts.
"Nope. You clean," he said flatly, tossing down chopsticks.
"Mo Yuchen! You didn't help earlier as well," she barked, hands on hips.
He folded his arms. His attitude silently challenged her.
"What? Now, are you going to cry to the elders about dishes?"
"Actually, yes." Her grin turned diabolical. She drew in a deep breath—
And Mo Yuchen promptly stuffed a steamed bun into her mouth.
"Shut up," he muttered, already gathering the plates.
Unknown to her, he waited outside longer than needed. Pretended to doze off in the hammock. Only when he heard her bedroom door close did he head back to his room, at the far edge of the dome.
Not that he'd ever admit it—but her safety came first.
***
Despite the constant bickering, Mo Yuchen and Feng Xiu Lan made a dangerous pair.
The masters always had a lesson ready—today, it was pill refinement. However, before the elders could start the lesson, Mo Yuchen and Feng Xiu Lan came out with jars of alcohol.
"I've brewed a new flavor of wine, which is called Cultivators Spirit Brew, which is a mix of osmanthus and medicinal roots to enhance internal balance," informed Feng Xiu Lan as she handed out the jars for everyone to taste.
The three elders gladly sipped the alcohol.
Savouring the alcohol flavor in his mouth, Long Xuanji nodded in approval, "The medicinal roots add a different spicy flavor to it."
Hu Doubao downed his cup in one fierce gulp, then scrunched up his face like he'd just swallowed fire. "It's strong," he grunted.
The wine expert, Elder Yan Lianyu, took a few thoughtful sips, her brows slightly furrowed as she tried to discern the ingredients. "It has Moonroot and…" She paused, letting the taste linger on her tongue. Then, with a flash of recognition, she added, "Red Jujube Seed."
Her expression changed.
"One sip," she said, setting her cup down, "and even thunderbirds stop talking. Two sips…"
She yawned mid-sentence.
"…even dragon fire sleeps."
With that, Yan Lianyu gently lowered her head onto the table and drifted into a deep sleep, while the other two elders were already snoring where they sat, like well-fed beasts in hibernation.
Mo Yuchen and Feng Xiu Lan exchanged a look.
"Let's go."
They appeared on a small cliff overseeing the waterfall and the rocky pool below. This was their spot to look at the world beyond the dome. Not that they dared to venture out of the dome because it was strictly prohibited, but it was calm space which they both cherished.
"How long do you think the masters will sleep?" asked Mo Yuchen.
"Ah, they'll wake up tomorrow."
"Tomorrow! Are you sure and not bragging?" asked Yuchen, surprised.
Pursing her thin lips, Feng Xiu Lan told him as a matter of fact, "Trust me. You know my alcohol making skills are better than your sword strikes. This combination of herbs affects people based on their cultivation levels."
"You mean the higher their cultivation level, the longer they'll sleep?"
Feng Xiu Lan nodded wickedly at Mo Yuchen.
"Anything for a no-training day," Mo Yuchen sighed, stretching out his long legs.
"I'd give anything to go beyond this dome and see the world outside," Xiu Lan said, her gaze drifting toward the trees.
"You know the rule our teachers made," Mo Yuchen said dryly, his voice edged with frustration. "No leaving until we've broken through and transformed into our animal forms."
He didn't say it aloud, but after five hundred years of cultivation, the fact that he still hadn't transformed gnawed at him.
Xiu Lan scoffed. "I doubt that. Do you think they would've let us out if we'd transformed when we were two hundred old?"
Mo Yuchen looked away, silent for a moment.
"We will, in time," he said finally, a quiet certainty in his tone. "Maybe then they'll tell us why we've lived our whole lives hidden from the rest of the world."