Chapter 18 – The Blooming Lotus Declares War
The black moon hung high, its light pale and cold over the floating pavilion of the Silk Lotus Sect. A soft breeze rustled the petal-shaped curtains, carrying the faint perfume of night-blooming lotuses. In the stillness, Yan Xue knelt on the stone dais before the glowing lotus altar, his breath calm but his heart thundering like a war drum.
Behind him, the vast, floating palace of the Silk Lotus Sect loomed like a dream carved from starlight—its halls silent, its power hidden beneath layers of grace and sensual mystique. Yet tonight, something stirred beneath the still waters of this heaven.
Ryu Yeon-Hwa stepped into the moonlight, robes billowing like smoke in the wind, his golden eyes half-lidded, gaze unreadable.
"You're leaving," Yeon-Hwa said. It wasn't a question.
"Yes, Master," Yan Xue replied, lowering his forehead to the cold marble. "I came here broken, humiliated, forgotten. But now I rise reborn. I ask your permission… to fulfill the vow I made before the world threw me away."
He paused.
"And in doing so, spread the name of the Silk Lotus Sect. Let them know... that I kneel not in shame anymore, but in reverence."
Yeon-Hwa walked forward, each step echoing like thunder through Yan Xue's bones. He crouched in front of him and lifted his chin with one finger.
Yan Xue's lips parted slightly, startled by the closeness—the intoxicating scent of Yeon-Hwa's body, the warmth of his breath.
Then Yeon-Hwa leaned in and kissed him.
It was not tender. It was not soft.
It was deep, consuming, and absolute.
Their lips pressed with a desperation that felt holy—like a fire passed between them through touch alone. Yan Xue's eyes fluttered shut, his fingers twitching against his knees. For a moment, his whole world collapsed into that kiss—his body arching slightly, offering itself to his master without a word.
When Yeon-Hwa finally pulled away, his voice was low, dangerous.
"Let the petals of our lotus bloom in blood and fear."
A pause.
"Go. You have my permission. Show them who you are now."
The Day of Return – Tianyu Realm
The skies above the Tianyu Sect and Life Sect were cloudless, a perfect blue to witness what they thought would be a joyous union.
Golden banners fluttered. Gongs rang out across mountaintop pavilions as disciples bustled to prepare for the marriage of Li Mei, daughter of the Life Sect's grand elder, to the Tianyu Sect's rising star—a young Golden Core cultivator with a radiant smile and impeccable bloodline.
No one mentioned Yan Xue.
He was a forgotten whisper. A joke. A footnote in the sect's proud history.
In the grand pavilion, Li Mei stood adorned in crimson bridal robes, her hands cold despite the sunlight. Her lips were painted red, but her eyes were distant. Something gnawed at her. A strange heaviness in the air.
Below, servants and disciples arranged flowers.
Then it happened.
A pulse rippled through the sky—a soundless shudder, as though the heavens inhaled.
Crack.
At the Life Sect's gate, the divine plaque, an artifact forged with the blessing of the heavens, vanished.
No explosion. No theft. Just... gone, like it had never existed.
A heartbeat later, screams echoed from the Tianyu Sect. Their own plaque, a symbol of authority, pride, and divine protection—also gone.
Elders flew out in panic, robes flaring, divine senses sweeping the air.
"What sorcery is this?!"
"Who dares violate the celestial pact?!"
Disciples huddled together, confused and afraid. Sect masters shouted orders. Spells lit the air like lightning as panic settled like a curse over both sects.
Then, from the sky—two slips of paper descended.
Not by wind. Not by accident.
They floated directly to the main gates of each sect, pinned cleanly by an elegant, lotus-etched blade that embedded itself into the wood without splintering it.
Gasps echoed.
An elder snatched the note, opened it with trembling hands, and read aloud:
"I am back for my promise.
– Yan Xue, Disciple of the Silk Lotus Sect."
Silence. Then Panic.
"Lies!" one elder from Tianyu Sect bellowed. "He died—he must've! We cast him out, he was crippled !"
But someone whispered, "He removed the divine plaque without touching it… Can someone like that be ordinary?"
The wind carried the name—Silk Lotus Sect—through the mountains, into ears and hearts.
Many had heard vague rumors of a demonic sect blooming in seclusion, one that turned broken men into beautiful cultivators of sensual power. But no one took it seriously.
Moreover, the Divine Court had banned its existence, and barred anyone from acknowledging it.
Until now.
Until the divine plaques vanished and a single name returned to shame two mighty sects.
Inside the Pavilion – Li Mei
She stared at the note in her father's hand, and her heart thudded in her chest like a trapped bird.
Yan Xue...
She remembered his eyes. They weren't the eyes of a coward. They were desperate, hungry—for recognition, for love.
Now, he had returned, and his words burned with the confidence of someone transformed.
The world spun.
At the Base of the Mountain
At the crossroads between the two sects stood Yan Xue.
He wore dark crimson robes stitched with silver lotus patterns, his sleeves long and elegant, his hair bound in a silken ribbon that fluttered in the wind. His once frail body now stood tall, refined—feminine beauty kissed with grace.
In his hand, the same lotus-blade that carried his message.
Behind him, mist flowed like a river, concealing the path to the Silk Lotus Sect.
He looked up at the twin peaks housing his past tormentors and smiled—not with cruelty, but calm assurance.
He whispered to himself:
"Let the world know…
The Silk Lotus blooms
Where arrogance dies."
And with that, he took a step forward.
The mountain winds howled through the valley like whispers of fate, carrying dust and tension in equal measure. At the center of the clearing, Yan Xue stood unmoving, his crimson lotus robes fluttering softly around his ankles. His expression was tranquil, almost bored.
Then the sky darkened.
Spiritual pressure crashed down like thunderclouds as two great sects descended at once, banners unfurling behind them. Cultivators from the Tianyu Sect and Life Sect gathered like twin armies. A wave of color and ego, of confidence born from ancient dominance.
At the front were Li Mei, dressed in ceremonial red, and beside her, her fiancé—Zhao Wen, a tall, golden-eyed prodigy clad in bright white robes lined with heavenly sigils. The very air around him shimmered with Golden Core energy.
Dozens of elite elders, core disciples, and guardians took formation behind them.
They all stared at the lone figure below.
And froze.
"…What… is that?" one Tianyu elder muttered.
The Yan Xue they remembered—meek, bitter, shamed—was no more.
Now, he stood with a body slim and elegant, waist narrow, chest faintly pronounced under layered silks, face radiant with delicate, symmetrical beauty. His skin glowed with a strange vitality, and his eyes shimmered with cold clarity.His silky hair cascading down his head around his shoulders.
"Has he become a… woman?" a disciple whispered.
"No. Look closely. He's still… male. But..."
"Too beautiful. More than a woman… more than a man..."
Mockery rose quickly from the crowd to drown out the awe.
"He sold his soul to a demonic sect!"
"That's no cultivator, that's a harlot!"
"He dares to flaunt such a body before us? He should be chained and used as he wishes to be!"
"A sin against the heavens!"
The cruel laughter intensified. Some men in the crowd looked at him with hunger, others with contempt. But none—none—understood the quiet power wrapped in those silks.
Yan Xue's gaze swept past all of them.
Then landed—cold, unreadable—on Li Mei.
Her breath caught.
She had prepared for a confrontation. Perhaps even to say something cutting or indifferent.
But now, standing face to face with him, she felt small. Her beauty, her pride, her marriage—all paled next to the serene, detached elegance of the man before her. His cheekbones were sharper, his lips a soft curve of disdain, and his eyes…
His eyes did not know her.
As if she had never mattered at all.
Does he not see me?
Jealousy twisted inside her chest like a snake. For the first time in her life, she felt overshadowed by someone who used to be beneath her. And it was a man. The very man who was smitten by her beauty completely.
Zhao Wen scoffed, stepping forward.
"Yan Xue. Or whatever you've become. Did you come to beg, or die beautifully, Or to seduce us with that for?"
Yan Xue's lips curled—not in anger, but amusement.
He lifted a hand, and in a wave of spiritual energy, summoned his lotus-blade, now glowing faintly with crimson Qi. The winds stilled.
Then, he spoke.
"In the name of the Silk Lotus Sect, in the name of my master, my husband, my god—the Heavenly Demon—I stand before you."
His voice carried like silk over steel—unshakable, neither loud nor weak. Simply undeniable.
"I am no longer your discarded dog, no longer the tool you tossed aside. I have been reborn in the black and crimson petals of a higher path."
"You mock my form. You call me sinner. You lust for what you can never own."
He took a step forward.
"But know this—today marks the first bloom of the Silk Lotus Sect. Its name shall echo across the Upper Realms."
"And the way I begin..."
He raised his blade skyward, its Qi pulsing like a heartbeat.
"...is by defeating you both."
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
"You arrogant insect!" a Life Sect elder shouted, Qi flaring. "You dare declare war on both your former sect and the Life Sect elite?"
Yan Xue didn't flinch.
His robe sleeves swayed as he walked calmly to the center of the field, drawing a perfect circle of radius 100 m on the dirt with his blade tip.
"Step into this circle," he said softly, "and you step into your grave."
One of the Tianyu core disciples lunged forward in fury—sword blazing.
A blur.
A lotus petal fluttered through the air.
Then the disciple collapsed, unconscious, a tiny red mark glowing at the base of his throat.
Silence.
Yan Xue stood unmoved, not even glancing back at the body.
*"The Silk Lotus does not need an army.
One petal is enough."
The elders now looked at one another.
Unease had bloomed.
The crowd still burned with mockery, but beneath it... fear was spreading like cracks in glass.
And above them all, on the far-off silk Lotus Realm, Yeon-Hwa watched in silence on his lotus throne—eyes half-lidded, lips curved in faint approval.
He whispered to no one but the wind:
"Now they will learn…
what it means when the lotus bloom."