The Call from Sisu
That sa night, as the lanterns of Peonies Castle flickered against the velvet sky, Mushu’s phone buzzed with an unknown number. He stared at the screen, hesitation tightening his chest. His thumb hovered, uncertain. Finally, he pressed accept.
“Hello, who is calling?”
A voice, trembling yet familiar, broke through the static.
“Brother? Is this... Borthe Mushu?”
Mushu’s heart skipped. His breath caught.
“Sisu?”
The voice cracked with relief.
“It’s really you! Big brother, I’m glad you didn’t change your number!”
Mushu’s throat tightened, emotion surging.
“I never changed my number because I was afraid you wouldn’t find . Where are you? How is Father?”
There was silence. A pause heavy enough to crush the air. Mushu’s grip on his phone tightened, knuckles whitening. He could feel sothing terrible pressing at the edges of the conversation.
“Um... Big Brother. Father...”
Mushu’s pulse hamred. His chest constricted.
“Big brother... Father passed away a week ago. He didn’t want to call you. He said... There was no need to disturb you.”
Sisu’s voice broke, emotion spilling through the line.
Mushu’s heart trembled violently. Though his stepfather was not bound to him by blood, he had brought happiness to his mother, given them stability, and treated Mushu with kindness his birth father never had. Mushu respected him deeply — so deeply that he called him Father without hesitation.
His voice cracked, raw with grief.
“Then... where are you? I’m in Shanghai. Co find . I will make ti to pay respect to Father.”
Sisu sniffled, trying to steady himself.
“Okay, I’ll co find you. Please send your address. Dad left so items he wanted to hand over to you.”
Mushu swallowed hard, forcing strength into his words.
“Alright. I’ll send you my address. Let know when you arrive — I’ll pick you up myself.”
“I understand, Big Brother. See you soon.”
The line went dead. Silence pressed against Mushu’s ears, heavier than any sound.
Mushu’s Reflection
Mushu lowered the phone slowly, his hand trembling. He typed out the address of Peonies Castle, his fingers stiff, each keystroke echoing like a drumbeat of finality.
When the ssage was sent, he opened his gallery. His thumb scrolled until it stopped on an old photo: his mother, radiant with joy, standing beside his stepfather, Sisu, and himself. Her smile glowed like sunlight, her eyes alive with happiness.
Mushu’s vision blurred. A single tear slipped down his cheek, tracing the line of his jaw. He whispered into the quiet room, his voice fragile yet resolute:
“Mom... Father is now with you. I hope you’re happier now.”
The photo shimred faintly in the glow of his phone screen, as if the past itself was reaching out to comfort him. Mushu pressed the phone to his chest, his body trembling with grief, yet his heart filled with determination. He would honor his stepfather’s mory. He would protect Sisu. And he would carry forward the legacy of the man he called Father.
The Gathering After Confinent
The morning after the celebration, the great hall of Peonies Castle was filled with solemn faces. Ling Li, finally out of her one-month confinent, sat at the head of the table. Her aura was calm yet commanding, her eyes sharp as blades.
“We only have a month left before the Family Competition,” she said, her voice carrying a weight that pressed against every heart in the room. “Are you all confident to participate?”
Her words hung in the air like a challenge. Silence followed. No one dared answer imdiately, for they all understood the gravity of the question.
Shun’s Painful Breakthroughs
It was Shun who broke the silence, his voice trembling yet resolute.
“Auntie... within this month, I had a breakthrough twice. But may I ask — why is it that every ti I break through, I feel like dying from pain?”
His hands clenched tightly, knuckles pale. He recalled the agony: his body breaking and recombining, his soul whipped by raging fire, his ridians torn and stitched back together by an invisible hand wielding a thread and needle. The process was slow, excruciating, and each ti he felt as though death itself hovered over him.
Even rembering it now sent shivers down his spine, cold sweat breaking across his brow.
Ling Li’s gaze softened, though her tone remained firm. Rising slowly, her robes whispering against the floor, she placed a reassuring hand on Shun’s shoulder.
“Shun, what you suffer is not ordinary pain. It is the mark of your exceptional power. The heavens themselves watch you, and they are jealous.”
A hush fell over the hall.
“Each ti you break through, your body is forced to endure trials beyond mortal limits. The fire that whips your soul is the heavenly fla, testing whether you are worthy to wield the Phoenix Command Sutra. The needle that nds your ridians is fate itself, stitching you back together so you may rise stronger. The heavens fear what you may beco, so they try to break you. But rember this: every scar you carry is proof that you defied them.”
Her eyes glowed faintly, her aura pressing against the disciples like a mantle of truth.
“The pain you experience is not punishnt—it is a sign that the heavens have recognized your potential. You are destined to command fire as powerful as the sun. The heavens themselves will try to stop you, but if you endure their tests, you will surpass even their jealousy.”
Reactions
Ren, who had witnessed Shun’s tornt during his breakthroughs, had been distraught. Her hands had trembled each ti she saw him writhe in agony, her heart breaking with helplessness. But now, hearing her mother’s words, her expression softened. She inhaled deeply, resolve settling in her chest.
“Mom... I think I’m ready.”
Lily straightened, her carp voice resonating with clarity.
“I’m ready.”
Fatty clenched his fists, his Stoneheart Resilience pulsing faintly.
“I’m ready.”
Jack smirked, his eyes sharp, his body vibrating with speed.
“I’m ready.”
Nicu and Ailun also gave their assurances.
Only Chatty hesitated, his voice quieter.
“I will do my best.”
The Enfield on his neck rolled its eyes and snorted, earning chuckles from a few disciples. Ling Li was not disappointed. She knew she and Butler Oda had deliberately slowed Chatty’s cultivation. His body was not ready. If he were pushed too far, it might explode. She had chosen patience, knowing his ti would co.
Ling Li looked at her husband seated beside her, “What about you?” She asked in a teasing tone.
Knowing his wife was teasing her in front of everyone, he teases her back, “I’ll show you tonight whether I’m ready or not!”
“You!” Ling Li’s face flushed; it was red as an apple.
Everyone in the room laughed.
“Oh co on, Pap’s, please be kind to all the singletons in the room,” Shi Min said, which made everyone once again roar in laughter.
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