At the same time, high above Qingqiu, the Stargazing Platform stood beneath the vast night sky.
Ling Ye, the old Pavilion Master, stood silently before the star chart, studying the strange blank space at its center.
That emptiness had always seemed unnatural.
Countless stars surrounded it, yet there was nothing within that particular region.
It was as though something had been deliberately erased from the heavens, leaving behind a void where no starlight dared to remain.
Ling Ye watched it without speaking.
Then, without warning, a faint red light appeared within the empty space.
It was neither bright nor dazzling enough to illuminate the surrounding star chart.
Yet from the moment it appeared, it remained remarkably steady, glowing quietly within the darkness without the slightest flicker.
Almost at the same time, the surrounding stars shifted.
The movement was slight, so subtle that an ordinary person might not have noticed it.
But Ling Ye did.
The stars closest to the red light moved away from it one after another, as though silently making room for its arrival.
Or perhaps they were avoiding it.
Ling Ye’s brows slowly furrowed.
He did not speak immediately.
His attention remained fixed on the newly appeared red light as his expression gradually turned solemn.
After a while, the faint sound of movement came from behind him.
A gray-robed disciple appeared silently on the platform.
He stopped several steps behind Ling Ye and immediately dropped to one knee.
“Pavilion Master.”
His voice was extremely low.
“The Fire Phoenix Mark has appeared.”
He paused briefly before continuing.
“It seems…she’s beginning to awaken.”
Ling Ye’s expression did not change.
He slowly closed his eyes, as though confirming something for himself.
The night wind swept across the Stargazing Platform and stirred the edges of his robes.
For several moments, he stood completely still.
Then he finally spoke.
“What about that one?”
The gray-robed disciple immediately understood whom he meant.
“He came.”
Ling Ye opened his eyes.
“But it was only a shadow, not his true body,” the disciple continued in a low voice.
“He said a few words, looked at her once, and then left.”
Ling Ye said nothing.
His attention returned to the star chart, where the faint red light remained steady and unmistakable.
After a long while, his expression darkened slightly.
“We’ve guarded her for eighteen years.”
A complicated emotion briefly passed through his eyes.
“And in the end, this day has still come.”
The gray-robed disciple lowered his head without speaking.
Ling Ye watched the stars for a while longer before letting out a faint sigh.
When he spoke again, there was a trace of helplessness in his voice.
“Now that the Fire Phoenix has awakened, her fate will no longer be so easily altered.”
His gaze moved slowly across the star chart.
“As for Qingqiu…”
He paused.
“In the end, Qingqiu is nothing more than the gatekeeper.”
The gray-robed disciple hesitated before cautiously asking, “Then…should we report this to the Sect Master?”
Ling Ye’s eyes immediately turned cold.
“No.”
The answer came without hesitation.
His tone remained calm, but the firmness beneath it left no room for discussion.
“The Sect Master will notice it himself.”
Ling Ye lowered his gaze slightly.
“Besides, he has far too many calculations of his own.”
His voice remained measured, never rising even slightly.
“If we told him everything, whatever he chose to do afterward might not be for Yu Jin’s sake.”
The gray-robed disciple looked up in surprise.
But when he saw Ling Ye’s expression, he wisely held his tongue.
“We’ve guarded her for eighteen years,” Ling Ye continued.
“We didn’t do so just to watch her fall into someone else’s scheme the moment she awakened.”
The night wind swept across the platform once again, stirring his robes beneath the starlight.
“Some people speak constantly of protecting the sect,” Ling Ye said, his eyes sharpening.
“But what they truly care about is power and influence.”
There was no anger in his voice, yet the coldness beneath his words was unmistakable.
The gray-robed disciple lowered his head even further.
“And besides…”
Ling Ye’s expression grew noticeably sharper.
“Qingqiu does not belong to him.”
A brief silence followed.
“Nor is he capable of interfering with that one’s fate.”
The gray-robed disciple remained quiet for a moment before speaking again.
“But the Sect Master has already sensed today’s unusual phenomenon.”
“I’m afraid he may begin to suspect Yu Jin.”
“He will.”
Ling Ye answered immediately, without the slightest surprise.
“Of course he will.”
He looked toward the center of the star chart, where the faint red light continued to glow.
“But what he sees is only the surface.”
Ling Ye narrowed his eyes.
“The fate of the Emberwing is not something he can control.”
His voice grew heavier.
“If he acts recklessly, he won’t gain what he wants.
He’ll only disrupt the entire situation.”
The gray-robed disciple hesitated again.
“Then what should we do?”
This time, Ling Ye did not answer immediately.
The Stargazing Platform fell quiet.
Above them, countless stars continued to shine, while the newly appeared red light remained among them—quiet, yet impossible to overlook.
After a long moment, Ling Ye finally spoke.
“Protect her.”
The gray-robed disciple raised his head.
Ling Ye’s voice was calm, but every word carried unmistakable weight.
“Not for Qingqiu.”
“Not for fate.”
His expression softened almost imperceptibly.
“Simply because she is that child.”
The gray-robed disciple’s expression changed.
For a brief moment, shock showed clearly in his eyes.
But he did not ask what Ling Ye meant.
He merely lowered his head again and remained silent.
Ling Ye turned his attention back to the star chart.
The red point of light had begun to move.
Slowly.
Almost imperceptibly.
Yet its path was clear.
Ling Ye watched it for a long time as the night wind continued to pass over the Stargazing Platform, carrying the faint chill of the mountains.
At last, he murmured, “What is meant to come will come eventually.”
His eyes followed the slowly moving red light.
“It’s time for us to prepare.”