Chapter 6: Fate Leads Me to You First

The next morning, Wu Xin visited Jin Hai’s palace, claiming he wanted to check on the Sacred Furnace. But in truth… he wanted to see her—the girl who had haunted his thoughts all night.

He didn’t want to think about her, yet for the first time, his mind, heart, and soul agreed: she would not be forgotten, not even for a moment.

What was her secret? Why this deep concern for her? And why such attachment?

He arrived quickly, breathless, hoping to see her… hoping to extinguish the yearning that had flared overnight.

But his hopes were dashed.

He found only the old man, the Master of the Furnace, seated in his rocking chair as usual, lost in his own world.

Wu Xin approached, bowing respectfully. The old man noticed him and greeted him:

“Welcome, Grandmaster Wu Xin. Please, have a seat.”

Wu Xin responded with unusual nervousness:

“Thank you, I won’t stay long. I came to discuss something important. Are you alone?”

The old man glanced around, searching for her, then shook his head:

“Rest assured, I believe she left this morning… You can speak freely.”

Wu Xin asked eagerly:

“But where did she go?”

The old man gave him a puzzled look, answering calmly:

“I do not know. She hasn’t told me her destination. Perhaps she’s in the palace gardens… Now, tell me what you came for.”

Wu Xin paused, then sighed:

“I think the time has come to appoint a new guardian for the Sacred Furnace and Jin Hai’s palace. What do you think?”

The old man replied approvingly:

“Yes… it is indeed time. I must retire as well. Can you find someone worthy to take over the furnace?”

Wu Xin asked with concern:

“Why retire now? Is there a particular reason?”

The old man gazed into the distance, hiding a rare worry:

“You know I am old. I now have another responsibility, as you have seen… I must care for my kin, and if I fail, I will have no choice but to return her to her family.”

Wu Xin sighed with regret:

“Of course, Master.”

He left the palace slowly, weighed down by disappointment—or perhaps by longing. His feet seemed unwilling to depart before seeing her.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

He felt as if someone followed him from a distance, but he paid it no mind.

Upon entering his own palace, his heart pricked him, as if scolding him for ignoring whoever was behind him.

He turned—and there she was, running after him like a small child, eyes brimming with joy. She stopped before him, silent.

He too remained silent, unsure what to say. His throat tightened with emotions he had never felt before.

She extended her hand, offering him the cloak he had draped over her yesterday.

She said:

“The old man asked me to thank you… so thank you.”

Distracted, Wu Xin asked:

“Who is the old man? The Furnace Master?”

Huo Feng replied with childlike honesty:

“I think so… I don’t know any other old man.”

Then she turned toward the garden, eyes shining with delight.

She ran and twirled among the flowers like a busy little bee, singing:

“I missed you, garden… I missed you, flowers…”

She stopped at a large tree and tapped its trunk, calling:

“Come out, cowardly mole… or are you sleeping now?”

Wu Xin froze, watching her every movement, as if it were engraved in his memory.

He wanted to ask her, but the mole’s sudden appearance drew his attention. The tiny creature sniffed her cloak as if greeting her.

The girl laughed and scolded it:

“You’ve grown old… still spoiling the flowers like before?”

The mole growled, bared its teeth, then scuttled into its burrow, ignoring her playful accusations.

Wu Xin, determined to uncover the truth and her connection to every detail of his garden, asked seriously:

“Who are you?”

Huo Feng met his gaze, puzzled:

“I’m the one you met yesterday near the furnace… I ruined your cloak. Forgotten so quickly?”

He stared, as if trying to understand her words:

“Alright… what’s your name?”

She shrugged indifferently:

“I don’t know.”

Wu Xin took a deep breath and asked again:

“What do your parents call you?”

She pressed her lips together, hesitant, then whispered cautiously:

“The old man warned me not to tell anyone… but I think you deserve to know. You may call me sweety… like my father did.”

Wu Xin was stunned:

“Sweety?”

She nodded:

“Yes. What’s the matter?”

Wu Xin stayed silent, wondering to himself: is she truly foolish, or merely innocent?

Seeing his confusion, she smiled:

“If you don’t like that name, you can choose another… like ‘Dear’ or ‘Little One’… whatever you wish.”

She then skipped toward his room door, full of playful energy.

The guard blocked her entry, waiting for his master’s approval.

She approached him, boldly touching his cheek:

“Do you still sneak glances at that girl in the blue cloak?”

The guard stammered, flustered:

“Why accuse me of such shameful behavior?”

He paused, remembering something, then added:

“Do you mean my wife?”

She replied with innocent sarcasm:

“Hmm… I don’t know. Is she your wife now? Seems she took good care of you.”

Then she pinched his plump cheeks playfully.

Wu Xin hurried forward to stop her mischief, gripping her hand and pulling her toward his room in a mix of anger and exasperation.

His face revealed clear frustration, as if her behavior had crossed all limits.

He stopped her in the middle of the room and asked firmly, for the fourth time:

“Now, tell me… who are you? How do you know all these old details?”

She circled him, inspecting him with narrowed eyes, as if searching for something missing or wrong.

He stood still, trying to control his turbulent emotions.

Suddenly, she paused behind him and whispered into his ear, her words sending shivers down his spine:

“My little beloved… you may call me that, as my father did, if you do not like sweety.”

The whisper pierced Wu Xin’s composure, striking straight at his heart.

Huo Feng continued her playful fluttering like a butterfly in his room, almost flying with joy as before.

Suddenly, she froze, eyes widening as she spotted a blue vase. Her body trembled, memories flooding her like a painful storm.

She approached hesitantly, fingers brushing the cracks on the vase, whispering:

“It’s here… but how?”

Wu Xin asked anxiously:

“What is it? Do you know this vase?”

She stepped back as if fleeing from the object that awakened her worst memories.

Her joyful expression vanished, replaced by fear and distress. Without a word, almost unconsciously, she dashed away like a hunted prey.

Wu Xin remained frozen, unable to stop her. He was shaken by her turmoil, puzzled by her sudden flight.

What had disturbed her? What had shaken her very being?