The second trial began with silence.
Xiyan awoke beneath a sky of ember-colored clouds, her robes clinging to her skin from the thick, humid air. Ash drifted gently from above, landing on her lashes like gray snow.
There was no warning this time. No beast. No altar.
Just a path that appeared beneath her feet—glowing faintly, leading toward a jagged cliff's edge. Beyond it, a bridge of fire.
She hesitated.
This was no ordinary test of endurance. Her instincts prickled, the way they did when a spirit was watching. Or mourning.
She stepped forward anyway.
The moment her foot touched the flame bridge, memory surged.
Not hers.
Visions poured into her: cries of children, a village engulfed in flames, a woman clutching her child as they vanished into light. A cultivator's blade slashing down. Screams. Betrayal.
It wasn't real. But it felt real.
She fell to her knees, gasping.
"You seek strength," a voice thundered through the void. "But you have not faced pain. You have not known the fire of loss."
"I have," she whispered, trembling. "I have lost many things."
"Not enough."
Then came the second vision.
Mu Chen's body, broken at her feet.
Yue Lan, her chest pierced by a sword not meant for her.
Elder Song's final words: Forgive them, Xiyan.
"Stop," she said. "It isn't real."
But her heart ached like it was.
"You carry others," said the voice, "but you cannot carry your own grief."
A cold hand touched her shoulder.
Not part of the vision.
Xiǎo Bai.
His form shimmered beside her, tail curled protectively around her. "You don't have to prove your pain. You've already proven your heart."
Tears slid down her cheeks.
"I'm not trying to prove anything," she said. "I just want them to live. I want to live. I want to protect what I've found."
The flame bridge flared.
And the visions shattered.
When the ash settled, she stood at the other end—shaken, but whole.
A figure waited there.
The boy from Azure Rain Sect.
He looked... different. Worn. His robes were scorched, his expression tight.
"You made it through the second trial," he said.
She nodded.
"They showed me my worst failures," he said quietly. "My brother. My sect's betrayal. I almost gave up."
"Why didn't you?"
"I remembered your voice. When you said you weren't here for glory."
Xiyan blinked.
"I didn't know you, and still... I wanted you to live. I think others will feel that too."
She didn't know what to say.
He offered his hand.
"Let's walk the next part together."
Their path led into the valley of fractured glass—a field of crystalized spirit energy, jagged and humming with danger. Rumors said only one could pass through at a time, or the shards would react violently.
But as they stepped together, nothing stirred.
No surge of energy. No pain.
The crystals merely glowed faintly… like they approved.
At the far end, the other cultivators waited—some bleeding, some pale. A girl with ghostly white hair stared at Xiyan, eyes unreadable.
"You should have died," she said.
"I didn't," Xiyan replied calmly.
"Why?"
The others leaned in. Curious. Disbelieving.
Xiyan looked at them—not just warriors, but people. Scarred, frightened, hiding beneath the trappings of power.
"Because someone believed in me," she said. "And because I believed in them."
A quiet settled over the group.
That night, they made camp together.
Where once there was suspicion, now there was tentative alliance. They passed around food. Shared remedies. Laughed—softly, cautiously.
The boy from Azure Rain Sect asked her name again.
She smiled. "Still Li Xiyan."
"No," he said. "You're the heart of this trial. I think even the Hollow recognizes that."
As the fire crackled between them, the girl in white leaned forward.
"I dreamt of fire," she murmured. "And in the center was a girl wrapped in phoenix wings. I thought it was a prophecy of destruction."
Xiyan said nothing.
"But now I wonder," she added, "if it was about rebirth instead."
The others murmured agreement.
Xiyan stared into the fire.
She was still underestimated.
Still soft-spoken.
But the trial was changing.
And so was the world around her.
End of Chapter 13