C16 The Memory of the Yellow Bird

"Sir! What's the matter?" A servant hurriedly pushed the door open and rushed in.

Qin Feng was taken aback, realizing that the commotion he'd caused in the room had alarmed the people below.

"It's nothing... nothing at all..." Qin Feng quickly beckoned the Furnace back to his side with a flick of his fingers and nodded toward the splintered bedpost. "The pillar just cracked suddenly, that's what made the noise..."

His lie came out effortlessly.

Little Flowing Blade, nestled nearby, cocked its head and licked its paws, seemingly just as exasperated.

"Oh, I see," the servant said, his expression tinged with regret. "That was our oversight. I'll move you to a superior room right away. Please, come with me..."

He set off, leading the way and murmuring to himself, "But that was a new pillar. How could it break again? Maybe there's something off with the room's energy..."

In the dead of night, with the candles long snuffed out, Little Flowing Blade nestled in the black satin, eyes tightly shut, softly snoring.

Qin Feng had already drifted off on the bed, but the Yellow Bird Divine Ring on his finger suddenly began to glow with a faint golden light.

In his dream, Qin Feng was enveloped in a mystical fog. He saw a vibrant crystal flower blooming from a colorful stone, and beyond it, a lake bathed in sunlight shimmered.

Where was this place? How had he come to dream of such an otherworldly location?

"Ah Luo, do you find me beautiful?"

A young woman in ethereal attire approached with a delicate gait. Her red lips and white teeth shone against her tender phoenix eyes, and a playful yellow feather mark adorned her forehead. Her figure was enchanting, reminiscent of a celestial being from the Nine Heavens' Heavenly Realm.

She appeared to be speaking to someone ahead of her.

Qin Feng followed her gaze.

He saw a man dressed in a black robe, with dark golden patterns of mountains and rivers on his sleeves. The man's features were stern, and he exuded a formidable aura that made Qin Feng feel an intense sense of reality.

As the man's eyes met the girl's, the icy exterior melted away, replaced by a gentle warmth.

"Beautiful..."

"Whoosh!"

Suddenly, the enchanting vision before him dissipated, giving way to an expanse of ominous clouds.

Atop a high platform built of white jade, blood stained the pillars in multiple places. Chains crisscrossed above, linking the platform to the pillars. A bolt of lightning struck a figure, whose hands and feet were bound by iron chains. He coughed up blood, then slowly lifted his face, now a blur of blood and flesh. He began to laugh, though it was unclear what about, as blood continued to trickle from his mouth.

This was...

Qin Feng focused and recognized that the captive was the same man from the previous scene.

Another silhouette ascended the platform, each step laden with a heavy sense of foreboding.

At last, the figure stood before the man. It was the woman, yet her once lively smile had been replaced by a chilling indifference.

"The legend says that the Dreamy Bird can conjure the scene most yearned for by all..."

"There is nothing to yearn for."

Upon hearing the woman's words, the man erupted into a reckless laugh, reminiscent of the despair Qin Feng had seen when he himself was falsely accused at the Imperial Heaven Sect.

"He will not turn out like you as he grows up. He'll certainly be like me, but not foolish like this," the man said, his laughter tinged with a somber undertone as his eyes darkened.

The woman remained silent, her gaze flickering momentarily before settling back into stillness. She extended her hand, and a withered, dark crystal flower materialized in her palm. With force, she hurled it to the ground, shattering it into countless fragments, then turned and walked away slowly...

"Heh, heh..."

And just like that, the scene vanished like mist, leaving nothing but darkness around...

In the past, Qin Feng would frequently visit a teahouse in Li City to listen to storytellers spin tales of the bizarre and the romantic. While tales of lovesick men and sorrowful women often moved the audience to tears, Qin Feng would be the one laughing uncontrollably.

But this time, for some reason, Qin Feng found himself unable to muster even a smile after witnessing the scene.

A surge of heat emanated from his hand. Looking down at his left hand, he noticed that the Yellow Bird Divine Ring that had adorned his finger was now gone. The skin on the finger that had once worn the ring was as red as glowing embers.

With a start, Qin Feng's eyes snapped open, realizing that everything he had experienced was just a dream. As he reached up to wipe the sweat from his face, he noticed the Yellow Bird Divine Ring on his finger emitting a faint golden glow, seemingly trying to convey something to him.

Glancing out the window, he saw that dawn had already broken.

Qin Feng wiped his sweat-drenched face and leapt out of bed, rousing Little Flowing Blade from its deep slumber. After freshening up, he headed downstairs.

Upon descending, he found Aming and Fu Ye already seated, waiting for him amidst the inn's morning bustle.

Qin Feng handed Little Flowing Blade over to an attendant, requesting some raw meat for its meal and also purchased extra provisions to store in the Secret Bag, ensuring Little Flowing Blade wouldn't go hungry later on.

With these tasks completed, Qin Feng joined Fu Ye and the others for a pot of tea and some pastries, intending to take a short break before they continued on their journey.

"Hey, did you hear? The Sect Supreme Treasure of the Imperial Heaven Sect has been stolen."

The words drifted from a nearby table where a burly man and a scholarly-looking individual were seated, their conversation inadvertently reaching Qin Feng's ears. He bit into an osmanthus cake, listening intently to their discussion.

"Really? A renowned sect like the Imperial Heaven Sect has actually lost its Sect Supreme Treasure?" the scholar asked, astonished.

"Yes, and rumor has it that a disciple from the Imperial Heaven Sect's Defense Division is to blame. The evidence was irrefutable, and all the sect's elders were involved. But this Qin-named disciple denied everything and even clashed with his own sect members. Just ten days ago, the sect master executed the alleged thief in public. Sadly, they still haven't located the Supreme Treasure."

"Ha, to think the culprit was one of their own. It's like nurturing a tiger, only to invite trouble. They may not have recovered the Supreme Treasure, but at least they've eliminated one menace..."

Unable to contain himself any longer, Qin Feng slammed his teacup down onto the table with a resounding "clang," drawing the attention of everyone around him.

"Mr. Qin, what seems to be the problem?" Aming asked, noticing Qin Feng's distress. Fu Ye also looked at Qin Feng with a look of confusion.

"It's nothing serious! Just a bit too noisy for my liking," Qin Feng said through gritted teeth.

"Mr. Qin, as far as I can tell, the average strength of the people in this inn is at the third level of the Spirit Rank. If we're thinking of taking them on directly..." Aming cautioned.

"..."

Perhaps it's best to avoid trouble for now. Without sufficient strength, stirring up conflict would only invite disaster upon himself.