by ArkGodZ | DaoVerse Studio
The world returned to him slowly, like fragments of a broken mirror falling back into place.
Jian Yu opened his eyes to a dim, golden light swirling across the ancient walls around him. Strange, intricate symbols pulsed faintly, breathing with a life of their own. The heavy scent of incense filled the air, grounding him in a reality both foreign and familiar.
He lay on a stone bed at the center of a grand sanctuary carved deep into the mountain's heart — a place forgotten by the world above.
The very air around him was different — dense, vibrant, almost sentient. The Qi was so rich it felt alive, brushing against his skin like unseen hands welcoming him home.
Pain gnawed at his body, but it was distant, like a memory rather than a wound. His spirit felt heavier, weighted by something far greater than exhaustion.
"You're awake," a gentle voice whispered near him.
Turning his head slowly, he found Yuan sitting by his side, her figure barely illuminated by the flickering runes. Her hand lightly clasped his, her thumb tracing slow, reassuring circles against his skin. Relief flooded her features, but there was something deeper too — a sadness, a worry she could not hide.
For a moment, Jian Yu simply watched her. The way her eyes glistened. The way she held her breath, afraid to break the fragile moment.
"How long...?" his voice came out rough, barely a whisper.
"Three days," Yuan answered softly. "You drifted between sleep and fever... Shen Mu said your body was adjusting. He told me to stay close... in case you woke up disoriented."
Jian Yu closed his eyes briefly, feeling the truth of her words in every aching muscle.Adjusting — to what?
The Sutra's energy pulsed faintly within him, wild and restless, like a caged beast clawing against its confinement.
Footsteps echoed across the sanctuary.
Shen Mu appeared from the shadows, his presence commanding, though his cultivation remained sealed — a heavy chain wrapped around his own power, hidden by design. Yet even suppressed, he carried the gravity of someone who had once shaken the heavens.
"You've survived," Shen Mu said, his voice low but steady. "That alone is more than most could have managed."
Jian Yu struggled to sit up, Yuan immediately moving to steady him. He gritted his teeth and forced himself upright, refusing to show weakness before the man who had orchestrated so much without his knowledge.
"What happened?" Jian Yu demanded. "Why do I feel... different?"
Shen Mu approached, stopping just beyond arm's reach. His gaze, sharp as a blade honed over centuries, weighed Jian Yu with an intensity that left no room for lies.
"You have crossed a threshold," Shen Mu said simply. "There is no going back now."
The words sank into the stone silence of the room. Jian Yu waited, tension coiling in his chest.
"The Seita Flor Eterna has declared you a traitor," Shen Mu continued, his voice colder now. "Your name has been erased from the halls. Your achievements struck from their records. Orders have been given — you are to be captured, judged, or killed without mercy."
A hollow weight settled on Jian Yu's shoulders, heavier than any physical wound.
"And what of Yuan?" Jian Yu asked immediately, his voice tight, already knowing the answer he feared.
Shen Mu glanced at her, his expression unreadable. "She stands accused by association. Her loyalty to you has sealed her fate in their eyes. But her presence here... changes everything. For now, she is believed to be missing — presumed dead alongside you."
The words slashed deeper than Jian Yu expected.
He squeezed Yuan's hand tightly, a silent promise between them.
"What... why?" Jian Yu demanded, turning his glare back to Shen Mu. "Why is all of this happening? Why me?"
Shen Mu exhaled slowly, the air thick with the weight of unspoken truths.
"Because you are not merely a disciple, Jian Yu," Shen Mu said. "You are the heir."
He stepped closer, his voice lowering into something almost reverent.
"You carry within you the Sutra of Forbidden Desire — not as a tool, not as a curse, but as its true successor. Its will recognizes you. Its power blooms within you because you are destined to wield it."
Jian Yu shook his head slightly, disbelieving. "Destiny? I never chose this."
"No," Shen Mu agreed. "But it chose you."
Silence stretched between them.
Jian Yu's mind reeled. Every event, every strange twist of fate — the visions, the power surging at the edges of his control, the woman who haunted his dreams — it all pointed to something far greater than coincidence.
"And now, because of this, the world shifts," Shen Mu continued. "Sects stir in fear. Kingdoms whisper of omens. The Sutra's awakening is a tremor that will soon become an earthquake."
The Sanctuary around them pulsed faintly, as if acknowledging the truth of his words.
"Then what happens now?" Jian Yu asked, voice hoarse.
Shen Mu smiled faintly, though it was a grim thing.
"Now, we begin gathering the pieces left behind for you."
He gestured toward the far wall, where an ancient symbol — a lotus intertwined with a serpent — glowed faintly, breathing with quiet life.
"Across the realms, there are others like me," Shen Mu continued. "The Rememberers. Cultivators who have sworn their lives to the preservation of the Sutra's true lineage. Hidden among the sects, scattered across kingdoms, they have waited... for you."
"They have waited for generations," Shen Mu said, his voice carrying the weight of centuries. "Passing their oaths in secret, preserving the truth through darkness and betrayal, all for this moment."
Jian Yu stared, the magnitude of it crashing down upon him like an avalanche.
"You will not face this path alone," Shen Mu said. "But neither will it be easy. Trust must be earned. Strength must be forged."
Yuan's hand squeezed his again, grounding him.
"And if I fail?" Jian Yu asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.
Shen Mu's eyes gleamed in the low light. "If you fail... the world will descend into an age of blood and ash. The balance will shatter. And all that remains will drown in endless desire, twisted and broken beyond recognition."
Jian Yu swallowed hard, the implications staggering.
He thought of the garden, of the lotus that had bloomed around him.He thought of Yuan, her unwavering loyalty.He thought of the woman in his dreams — always just out of reach, always calling to something buried deep within him.
He could not afford to fail.Not now.Not ever.
Shen Mu stepped forward once more, placing a hand lightly on Jian Yu's shoulder.
"You were not chosen by accident," he said quietly. "You are the flame that will either rekindle the heavens... or consume them."
The runes along the walls pulsed in response, as if the sanctuary itself acknowledged those words.
For the first time, Jian Yu did not flinch from the weight placed upon him.
Instead, he embraced it.
Whatever came next, he would face it.For the Sutra.For those who believed in him.For the future he refused to surrender.
The silence that followed was dense, almost sacred.
Jian Yu leaned back against the cold stone wall, his gaze distant as Shen Mu paced slowly before him, the elder's expression a portrait of solemnity.
"The Sutra of Forbidden Desire," Shen Mu began, voice low, as if speaking its name summoned unseen forces, "is not simply a technique. It is the embodiment of an ancient Dao — one that predates the sects, predates even the Great Heavenly Division itself."
Jian Yu listened intently, each word etching itself into the core of his being.
"It was born in an era when desire was not a sin, but a force of creation," Shen Mu continued. "The Ancients believed that desire — untainted, unrestrained — was the purest form of cultivation. To desire was to live. To desire was to shape the heavens themselves."
He paused, letting the gravity of those words sink in.
"But men, in their fear and hunger for control, twisted that truth. Desire was branded a weakness. It became forbidden. Those who cultivated it were hunted, their legacies erased."
Shen Mu turned, his eyes sharp as steel.
"The Sutra survived only because it chose to survive. It wove itself into bloodlines, into dreams, into hidden places where even the gods could not see. Waiting. Waiting for someone strong enough — pure enough — to awaken it again."
Jian Yu swallowed, his throat dry.
"And that someone... is me," he said, barely above a whisper.
Shen Mu nodded. "Not by chance. Not by accident. The blood of the old ones stirs within you. Your body, your spirit — they resonate with the Sutra's true nature."
Jian Yu closed his eyes briefly, feeling the pulse of energy deep within his core — hot, restless, wild. It was not evil. It was not cruel. It was life itself, raw and untamed.
"But there are dangers," Shen Mu warned. "The Sutra feeds on your emotions, Jian Yu. Love, lust, ambition, rage — all are fuel. If you lose yourself in them... the Sutra will not hesitate to consume you."
He stepped closer, his hand hovering inches from Jian Yu's chest, where his heart pounded like a war drum.
"You must not become its slave. You must become its master."
Yuan tightened her grip on Jian Yu's hand, grounding him in the swirling storm of revelations.
Jian Yu lowered his gaze, his breath shallow.
Visions of fire and blood flashed across his mind:
His father's hand on his shoulder,
His mother's laughter under the blooming trees of the Clã Li,
The roar of flames devouring everything he had ever known.
He remembered standing among the ruins, a child wrapped in the stench of smoke and death, promising himself that he would never forget.
That he would never forgive.
That he would survive — no matter what.
He opened his eyes, and the Sanctuary around him seemed to pulse in response, as if breathing with him.
But survival was no longer enough.
Not when others had waited centuries for him.Not when lives had been sacrificed to preserve even the faintest hope of the Sutra's true return.Not when he carried the weight of countless Rememberers who had lived and died for this very moment.
Jian Yu clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms.
He could still run.He could still hide.He could still pretend that none of this was real.
But if he did...He would betray not only those who believed in him.He would betray himself.
The boy from the Clã Li had survived.
Now, the man would fight.
"I will not run," Jian Yu said, his voice low but resolute. "Not anymore."
Shen Mu's lips curved slightly, a rare glimmer of pride breaking through his stoic mask.
The runes along the Sanctuary walls flared brighter, casting shifting shadows across the stone.
"You have chosen," Shen Mu said. "And the Sutra has chosen you in return."
A deep, resonant hum filled the air, vibrating in Jian Yu's very soul.
The Sanctuary itself acknowledged him.
For a moment, Jian Yu allowed himself to simply breathe.
To feel the ancient pulse of this place.To feel Yuan's presence beside him — warm, steady, unyielding.To feel the weight of countless generations settle upon his shoulders — not as a burden, but as a mantle.
He was no longer just Jian Yu, the orphan.No longer just Jian Yu, the disciple.
He was Jian Yu, the heir of the Sutra of Forbidden Desire.The spark that could either rekindle the heavens or consume them.
Whatever came next, he would not face it alone.The Rememberers were out there, waiting.The echoes of the Clã Li lived within him.
And desire — raw, wild, untamed — would no longer be his weakness.
It would be his strength.
The light of the Sanctuary dimmed once more, but this time, Jian Yu knew it was not out of rejection.It was a breath — the ancient, slow inhalation of something alive, waiting, watching.
He pressed a hand against the stone beside him.It was warm, vibrating with a subtle rhythm that matched his own heartbeat.Somewhere deep within the Sanctuary, forces beyond mortal comprehension stirred.
Jian Yu closed his eyes.
And the world shifted.
He stood in a vast field of black lotuses, their petals larger than men, glistening with dew that shimmered like dying stars.Above, the sky burned a deep crimson, fractured by streaks of silver light that bled like veins across the heavens.
The air was thick, heavy with the scent of longing — sweet, intoxicating, almost suffocating.
At the center of it all, upon a spiraling throne of bone and root, she waited.
The woman from his dreams.
Her form shimmered, caught between shadow and light. Her hair flowed like rivers of night, her bare feet sinking into the lotus petals. Her eyes — sorrowful, piercing, eternal — locked onto his.
She raised a hand, and the lotuses at her feet trembled.
"Seek..." she whispered, her voice threading through the air like silk soaked in blood."Seek the garden... that never blooms."
The words etched themselves into Jian Yu's soul.
He tried to move, to call out, but the very world resisted him.The lotuses began to wither and collapse into ash with each heartbeat, their death song filling the void.
Tears fell from her eyes — tears that burned as they struck the petals — each one a prayer, a warning, a memory.
"Remember..." her voice shattered into a thousand broken notes."Desire is not your enemy... but it will be your trial."
The sky cracked open above them, a wound of raw light.
Through it, Jian Yu saw flashes — glimpses of futures not yet born:
Himself, a crown of thorns piercing his brow, seated upon a throne of black flame.
Yuan, bleeding, reaching out to him as she was dragged into darkness.
Shen Mu, standing alone against a tide of faceless enemies.
And always — always — the woman's sorrowful gaze, burning into him.
A sharp pain tore through his chest.
Jian Yu gasped, wrenching himself free of the vision.
He staggered, the world reeling around him.He fell forward — and Yuan was there, steadying him with both arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders.
The scent of her — clean, real, alive — cut through the remnants of the dream.
Shen Mu stood a few steps away, silent, his eyes filled with something dangerously close to pity.
"You saw her," Shen Mu said, not as a question, but as a confirmation.
Jian Yu nodded, breathing hard.
"What... what is the garden that never blooms?" he rasped.
Shen Mu's expression darkened.
"No one knows," the elder said. "It could be a place. It could be a person. It could be a choice you have yet to make."
He stepped forward, his presence wrapping around Jian Yu like a mantle.
"But one truth remains: the Sutra has revealed its path to you.And that path will not be walked alone."
Shen Mu gestured toward the far end of the Sanctuary, where an immense stone door pulsed faintly with golden veins of light.
"Beyond that door lies the beginning of your true training," Shen Mu said."Here, under the eye of the Sanctuary, you will learn to command the Sutra — or be consumed by it."
He paused, then added, his voice softer:
"And when you are ready... you will seek the Rememberers.You will gather those who have waited for you, even when hope itself seemed lost."
Jian Yu stared at the door.
It was not merely stone and symbols.It was a threshold — one that once crossed, could never be undone.
He tightened his grip on Yuan's hand.
She looked up at him, her eyes wide but unwavering.
"I'll be with you," she said quietly. "Wherever this path leads."
Their fingers intertwined.
Their foreheads touched, a silent promise made not in words, but in shared breath and heartbeat.
In the distant reaches of the Sanctuary, the runes flared, casting long, twisting shadows across the walls.
Somewhere beyond dreams, beyond the crumbling heavens, the woman watched... and waited.
The storm had begun.
And Jian Yu would not face it as a fugitive.Not as a victim.Not as a pawn.
But as the heir of the Sutra of Forbidden Desire.The spark that could either rekindle the heavens... or burn them to ash.
✅ [End of Chapter 22 — Seeds of Eternity]
Next Chapter: Whispers Beneath the Lotus
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