By ArkGodZ | DaoVerse Studio
The chains were cold.
But not as cold as the silence within him.
Jian Yu awoke to damp straw under his back and a flickering lantern above, casting trembling shadows along the cracked stone walls. His breathing was shallow, the air thick with dust and mold. He moved his hand to his chest.
No pain.No wound.No warmth.
Only the weight of an iron collar and the hollowness where his power used to be.
He tried to sit, but the chains tugged at his ankles. Three other figures lay nearby, unmoving, each shackled to the wall like discarded dolls. He blinked, the haze in his mind giving way to fragments—unsteady, scattered like glass.
A crimson lotus.An altar on fire.Her voice.
His fingers curled into the straw.
"This isn't a dream… But it's not my life either."
The door creaked open.
She entered like a whisper in winter.
The woman from before. Her silver-white hair fell freely over robes that shimmered faintly in the lantern light. Her steps were slow, deliberate. Her eyes were a cold gray, emotionless, yet piercing.
She stopped before him and spoke softly."You're stabilizing faster than expected."
Her voice didn't rise. Didn't echo. It just… existed.
Jian Yu stared at her, trying to find familiarity in her features. Something about her presence called to him. Not his mind—his soul.
"Who are you?" he asked, voice hoarse.
She tilted her head slightly but didn't answer. Instead, she knelt beside him, her hand hovering above his chest.
He flinched.
"You feel it, don't you?" she murmured. "Something deep inside you—waiting."
Her hand lowered. Not touching. But the space between her palm and his chest burned.
"You're not the boy named Shen," she continued. "That soul is gone. And yet… something of it remains."
Jian Yu narrowed his eyes. "You're saying I'm… possessing him?"
"Not possession," she said. "Replacement. You've overwritten a faded echo."
Her gaze met his. "You are Jian Yu."
He swallowed.
So she knew.
Or suspected.
"What is this place?"
She rose to her feet.
"The Pale Moon Sect," she said. "A forgotten place, unworthy of stories—but not without purpose."
"And you?"
"I'm watching."
And she turned, disappearing into the corridor without another word.
The next morning arrived not with sunrise, but with the clang of iron against iron.
Jian Yu and the other prisoners were herded into the main courtyard—more than two dozen in total, all wearing collars and chains. The sky was overcast, mist rolling in from the surrounding cliffs.
The sect wasn't grand. It was stone, aged and forgotten. But it held weight.A pressure.Like it had seen too much to pretend anymore.
Jian Yu's body was weak, but his senses were sharp. Everything in him remained alert. Especially when he saw her—standing at the top of the stairs among three inner disciples and an elder. She wore different robes now. More formal. Unreachable.
She looks like she belongs to the moon itself… and yet I feel like I once touched her.
The elder stepped forward.
"You are here for one reason," he said, his voice gruff and tired. "You are weak. Useless. Forgotten. But the Pale Moon Sect has use for silence, obedience, and pain."
A cold breeze passed over the group.
"Three of you will leave this courtyard as outer sect disciples. The rest will return to the cells. Those who fall… will not be healed."
Guards passed out weapons—wooden staves, cracked and unbalanced. Jian Yu took his without comment. The weight was off. The shaft splintered near the handle.
And still, his hands felt at home with it.
The first pair was called forward.Two boys fought clumsily, swinging wildly, slipping in the gravel. One lost after three hits. The crowd didn't cheer. No one spoke. The loser was dragged away.
Another pair. A girl screamed before being struck. Another boy refused to move and was whipped across the back.
This isn't training. This is filtration.
Then—
"Shen."
Jian Yu walked forward.
Whispers echoed.
"That's the mute boy.""He barely survived last week.""He's going to drop in seconds."
His opponent was tall, broad-shouldered, with cracked knuckles and a crooked nose. The boy grinned as he raised his staff.
"You're already broken," he said. "Don't worry—I'll finish it quick."
The elder nodded. The fight began.
Jian Yu didn't move.
The other boy lunged, swinging hard and low.
Jian Yu stepped aside.
The chain on his ankle dragged behind him. He pivoted, sliding under the next swing, staff tucked close.
A third strike came down—fast.
He ducked.
And when the opening appeared, he struck—not to break, but to disrupt.
His staff jabbed into the opponent's thigh. Then another into the shoulder. He spun low, sweeping the boy's feet.
The crowd flinched.
The boy crashed to the ground. Jian Yu planted his staff to the side of the boy's throat—his stance calm, still, balanced.
The elder raised a hand."Enough."
Whispers stirred again.
"He doesn't even have a dantian.""How did he move like that?"
Jian Yu turned to walk away. As he did, he looked up.
She was still watching.
Expressionless.
But he swore her eyes lingered one second longer than they should have.
That night, he sat alone in his new quarters—a small stone room with a straw mat and cracked basin. Better than a cell. But still far from freedom.
He stared at the wall. The silence was heavy again. But not the same as before.
Inside him… something pulsed.
A presence.
No words. No power.
Just… warmth.Emotional. Lingering.As if a seed had been planted and had begun to breathe.
He closed his eyes.
She appeared at the door again.
"You survived," she said.
"You knew I would."
"That's why I watched."
He stood, slowly.
"Why do you care?"
She stepped closer.
"You're the only one here who doesn't belong. Not truly."
Her gaze dropped to his chest.
"There's something burning inside you. And it reacts when I'm near."
His throat tightened.
"What are you?"
Her hand rose—but stopped just short of his chest.
"I'm the match," she whispered. "And you are full of dry leaves."
Her fingers never touched him.
And yet, something inside him caught fire.
Just a flicker.
She turned.
"Tomorrow, we begin again."
And left.
Jian Yu remained standing. Still. Eyes wide.
And deep within him,where only silence had lived before…
a single petal bloomed.
⚔️ End of Chapter 1
Next: Chapter 2 – Ash and Ember