While Huahua, the special informant, gathered massive amounts of information about the continent for Jiu Ge, the AI had spent a full ten years silently infiltrating every corner of the Li Ming Continent with nanoscale scouts.

  He mapped out complete strategic city clusters for both South Li and North Ming.

  Yet the main stronghold on the Tenth Frontier Line of South Li was hardly worthy of being called a “city”.

  Its name said everything:

  The Valley of Forgotten Clouds.

  And at the heart of the valley stood the legendary ancient sacred land —

  The Palace of Forgotten Clouds.

  No one knew that this seemingly isolated valley had already fallen under Jiu Ge’s full surveillance.

  The Palace of Forgotten Clouds was no ordinary sect.

  It was an ancient legacy that had existed since the very birth of the continent.

  It did not abide by mortal geography or rules. It danced with the clouds, rested with the snow; its time flowed with the stars, and the four seasons moved in step with the great dao — boundless, timeless, without beginning or end.

  The palace stood atop the Xuanshen Mountains, shaped like a natural smile carved by heaven and earth, piercing straight into the clouds.

  Between the mortal realm and immortality lay only a thin line.

  Time within the valley was peaceful, stirring only when outsiders intruded.

  Its people seemed no different from mortals: they had homes, they looked upon the sky, yet their hearts carried deeper calm and restraint.

  They cultivated their entire lives only to offer their enlightenment to seekers of the dao, helping them fulfill their visible or hidden aspirations.

  Any external enemy who peeked with malicious intent or invaded with force would touch the Qi Barrier laid by the Palace Master.

  The entire palace would then automatically activate its Faith Unity power, completely sealing out intruders.

  The Palace Master also bore the duty of the Heavy Candle, guarding the line between illusion and truth.

  Once karma took root, one only needed to stand quietly upon the land and let it grow, waiting for fate to arrive.

  This was a heavenly opportunity — one that could be met, not forced.

  The Palace of Forgotten Clouds held iron rules:

  Do not interfere with external karma. Do not actively seek connections. Do not disturb heavenly secrets.

  Even if abnormalities were detected, they would only guide gently with ancient mystical power, never intervening directly.

  Special beings like the Stone Envoys among mortals could not be touched, but could be quietly guided.

  What truly required attention was the long-buried seed of karma — whether it bore fruit, withered, or lay dormant. That was where fate truly revealed itself. Both sides needed only to watch in silence.

  The Palace Master of Forgotten Clouds was named Jieyou.

  Her heart was firm, her temperament gentle, her pace unhurried.

  The greatest weapon of the palace was not blades or armor, but trust as a weapon, cultivating the path of liberation.

  For this generation, if one did not truly seek the dao, even eternal life would be nothing but triviality.

  The so-called “calm cultivation” would be empty, meaningless, without direction.

  What truly needed liberation was never the physical body, but wild thoughts and obsessions.

  What was the point of becoming immortal?

  Where would one go after ascending?

  Was there really any difference between the immortal realm and the mortal world?

  Legend said that the Palace of Forgotten Clouds was formed from the abandoned physical body of Jieyou’s ancestor after achieving transcendence.

  That was why Jieyou had always wanted to move out.

  Living inside her ancestor’s remains made her feel uneasy, as if eyes were watching her everywhere, ears listening to her every move.

  One accidental embarrassing incident left her ashamed for an entire half-month.

  All mortals ate grains and had natural needs, but Jieyou consumed no mortal food — only immortal fruits and spiritual roots.

  After that accident, she forced herself to stop eating cultivation-enhancing fruits for a long time, only to realize later that she had wasted precious nourishment for nothing.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Thankfully, the second incident happened in the courtyard.

  She simply let go, and after that, no more accidents occurred — not even in her dreams.

  On this day, Jieyou wore her grandest ceremonial robes.

  Crimson gauze flowed like falling stars, her lotus crown glowed with gold and jade, jade hairpins, red shoes, purple ribbons, golden insignia — heroic, elegant, and breathtaking.

  Amid the pure white palette of the palace and the valley, she was the only splash of color.

  Her youthful innocence and baby-fat cheeks were her perfect disguise.

  Her true age, schemes, abilities, and depth were all hidden behind this innocent face.

  All who saw her sighed: Heaven is unfair!

  The Palace of Forgotten Clouds already possessed the great path of bodily liberation, yet it also hid the art of eternal youth.

  She seemed cold, untouchable, uninterested in romance, detached from mortal desires.

  But that was only a mask.

  The real Jieyou was bright, cheerful, and craved freedom.

  As the saying went:

  To wear the crown, one must bear its weight.

  But Jieyou wanted neither the weight nor the crown.

  She only wanted to be herself — unshackled and free.

  Her mood was exceptionally bright today.

  Partly because of her magnificent clothes,

  and partly because of the little life she had long awaited.

  The Skydroamer Phoenix — hatches today!

  The Valley of Forgotten Clouds had an unbreakable rule:

  Spiritual birds and beasts could not be seized by force.

  Only the beast could choose its master — even the Palace Master was no exception.

  But this Skydroamer Phoenix was the one exception.

  Its nest rested atop the phoenix tree’s peak.

  By waiting quietly in advance, one might catch its eye and form the first bond.

  Once it built its golden nest in the palace, choosing Jieyou as its master was not impossible.

  Phoenixes choosing masters were already rare, and most were only white or green.

  But this Skydroamer Phoenix was a primordial anomaly from an ancient womb.

  Even the most experienced elders of the palace had never heard of such a creature.

  At this moment, Jieyou held her breath and activated the palace’s secret technique, trying to form a spiritual connection with the chick inside the egg.

  She imitated the first cry of a phoenix toward the shell, her tone rising and falling, nearly flinging the pearl flower from her hair.

  She stumbled slightly, her face flushing, secretly grateful that her ceremonial robes were dignified enough to hide her embarrassment.

  A small crowd had gathered nearby.

  They had come to watch a “white phoenix hatch” for fun and good fortune,

  only to discover that the Palace Master herself was welcoming it.

  Everyone’s hearts trembled:

  This phoenix was definitely no ordinary white phoenix!

  All knew the common truth:

  A white phoenix is not a true phoenix.

  The higher the rank of a spiritual beast, the pickier it was about its master.

  Wealth and power were only basic qualifications.

  What divine beast would not want a stable, dignified, and spiritually connected home?

  At this thought, those who had secretly hoped to bond with it stepped back, bowing in deference:

  A noble person helps others fulfill their destiny.

  The eggshell cracked.

  The spirit chick inside had just grown its first fluff.

  Its body was snow-white, with only a single cinnabar-red spot on its head, nearly blending into the white feathers — no colorful plumes at all.

  The onlookers muttered in disappointment.

  Only Jieyou remained calm and unhurried.

  She gently bent down, watching like someone gazing at a newly bloomed flower, her eyes clear and filled with pure curiosity.

  This was not her first visit to the egg.

  She had imagined countless times how stunning, elegant, and proud the phoenix would be when it hatched.

  But what emerged in reality was a seemingly unremarkable little chick.

  Yet she did not show even a trace of disappointment.

  Because the State Master had warned her countless times:

  The phoenix chick could sense human hearts long before hatching. It was spiritually awakened and held deep grudges.

  No disgust. No shock. No disdain.

  Because it could read your heart.

  The Skydroamer Phoenix — hatched!

  “Roar —”

  Jieyou imitated a soldier’s shout and jumped happily, nearly losing her hairpin and shoes.

  Her cheeks burned: the shoes were slightly too big.

  Such a careless teacher.

  The onlookers assumed it was just an ordinary white phoenix and secretly wondered:

  Was such a grand display really necessary for a white phoenix?

  Could it be… that the white phoenix was not a phoenix at all?

  A chick about a foot long fully emerged.

  Its body was covered in grayish-white down, with a blood-red spot on its head, its claws dark black.

  At first glance, it looked almost like an ordinary silky chicken.

  The onlookers were greatly disappointed and gradually dispersed.

  Jieyou, however, smiled gently and brightly, straightened her robes, and greeted it with solemn sincerity.

  She was not discouraged. She was not disappointed.

  She only whispered in her heart:

  Grow quickly, become that colorful auspicious cloud, and land in my phoenix nest.

  She was the last to leave.

  A warm thought arose in her heart, and she named the little phoenix:

  Miss Chirp.

  “Miss Chirp, Miss Chirp, grow quickly, come find me soon, don’t make me wait too long.”

  She did not let her escort follow. She traveled back slowly using the Earth Golden Light Technique.

  This spell was not a heritage of the palace — it was a cheap copy bought from the black market. Yet she had unexpectedly mastered it.

  She had rushed using magic on the way there; on the way back, calm and unhurried, she chose to walk.

  The season was unclear.

  Yellow and green leaves coexisted among the trees, prosperity and desolation intertwined, a strange and beautiful scene of decay and vitality.

  She gently touched her lotus crown.

  She valued ceremony deeply.

  If she wore grand clothes, she must act grandly.

  Right, Miss Chirp?

  “Right, Miss Chirp?”

  “Chirp!”

  A clear cry entered her ears.

  Jieyou looked around and saw no birds, thinking it was just her imagination.

  “I’m really hopeless, Miss Chirp.”

  “Chirp!”

  This time, it was unmistakable.

  She spun around sharply.

  Among the green and yellow grass,

  the tiny fluffy ball was stumbling toward her with unusual determination, chirping repeatedly as if calling her name.

  “Chirp～chirp～”

  Jieyou’s heart melted completely.

  She practically threw herself to the ground.

  The little fluffball flapped its underdeveloped wings and threw itself into her arms.

  It was as if it had found its mother.

  As if a lover from hundreds of reincarnations, crossing the Yellow Springs and the Bridge of Forgetfulness, had finally found her.

  “Where is your token?

  Aren’t you supposed to give me a fruit, a leaf, or something?”

  “Chirp～chirp～”

  Jieyou gently pried open its beak, searching for a token.

  But Miss Chirp had just hatched and run all this way without eating a single bite.

  There was no token at all.

  For a beast to take the initiative to recognize its master like this was unprecedented in history.

  “Pah!”

  Miss Chirp was annoyed and spat a little mouthful of saliva into her hand.

  Jieyou stared at the small puddle of saliva in her palm… then suddenly laughed until she danced.

  ...Saliva could count as a token, right?

  “Come back to the palace with me! When you grow up, I’ll take you adventuring across the world!”

  “Chirp!”

  “We’ll go to the Li Ming Continent!”

  “Chirp!”

  “We’ll catch flood dragons in the Six Abyss!”

  “Chirp!”

  “In this entire Hexa Crystal Realm —”

  “Chirp!”

  “I haven’t finished speaking yet, Miss Chirp.”

  “Chirp!”

  She held Miss Chirp and chirped along with her, happy as a child.

  When they returned to the palace, news that the Palace Master had bonded with a spiritual beast spread instantly throughout the valley.

  The Valley of Forgotten Clouds held a sacred rule:

  One person, one beast, for a lifetime.

  Even when one transcended and ascended, the beast would transform into an immortal beast and rise alongside its master.

  The choice of master and beast was an extremely solemn and serious matter.

  What Jieyou had done — picking up a random chick and taking it home — was completely unheard of.

  “What’s its name?”

  “Miss Chirp～”

  Jieyou announced proudly, beaming with joy.

  Everyone’s faces went dark.

  Only the State Master smiled silently.

  After the crowd chattered and left, the State Master stepped forward and bowed softly:

  “Palace Master, congratulations on gaining a divine beast.

  This old one greets the young Skydroamer Phoenix.”

  “Chirp.”

  Miss Chirp lifted her head and chirped lightly, her eyes proud, as if saying:

  Well done. Now withdraw.

  “Very well.”

  Though the State Master appeared as a young girl, he referred to himself as “this old one” — absurdly mysterious.

  He retreated just outside the door, not leaving, as if waiting or guarding.

  A moment later, Jieyou poked her head out of the hall, adjusting her lotus crown, filled with curiosity and questions.