With Liang Shen's words still echoing in his mind, Zhao found it difficult to focus. The revelation about his family and the ambiguous nature of the Celestial Flame troubled him deeply. The flame felt different now, almost like a silent presence within him, waiting—watching. He knew he needed answers, but Yun Xia had made it clear that now was not the time.
As they traveled back to their sect's grounds, Yun Xia observed his distraction but remained silent. When they finally arrived, she took him aside, her gaze calm but intense. "I know you have questions, Zhao. And while I cannot give you the answers yet, I can offer you a way to strengthen your bond with the flame."
Zhao's eyes lit up, eager for any advancement that could bring him closer to understanding the flame and its connection to his family. Yun Xia led him to the Celestial Sanctum, a sacred area within the sect reserved for high-level cultivators. Inside, the walls were adorned with intricate symbols, pulsing faintly as if alive with energy.
"This sanctum is where the most skilled cultivators learn to deepen their connection to their inner flame," Yun Xia explained. "Here, you'll practice harnessing your Qi in a way that channels both the flame's strength and your inner peace."
Yun Xia guided Zhao through a series of intense exercises, each one designed to test his control over the flame. In one exercise, he was to summon the flame to a specific point without letting it spread. He struggled at first, the flame flickering erratically in response to his wavering focus, but he soon learned to steady his breathing, focusing his Qi with deliberate intent.
The final exercise involved invoking the flame while in a meditative trance, allowing him to reach a deeper state of harmony. As he meditated, he felt himself slipping into a heightened awareness, sensing each flicker of the flame as if it were part of his very soul. And then, in a flash, he found himself in a strange, dreamlike landscape.
The ground beneath him was scorched, and the air was filled with a golden haze. In the distance, he saw a figure surrounded by flames, their form shifting between familiar and strange. The figure turned to him, and Zhao's breath caught—it was his mother.
"Mother?" Zhao whispered, but his voice felt small, swallowed by the vastness of the scene.
The figure looked at him with a sadness that felt tangible. "Zhao, my son… the path you walk is fraught with danger. The flame is a gift, but it is also a burden."
Zhao's mind raced with questions, but the figure raised a hand, stopping him. "There isn't much time. Know this: the flame has been passed down through our lineage, but it comes with a cost. Protect it well, and beware of those who seek it for their own ends."
With that, the vision faded, and Zhao found himself back in the sanctum, his heart pounding. Yun Xia was watching him, her expression knowing. "You saw something, didn't you?"
He nodded, still processing the encounter. "It was my mother… she warned me about the flame. She said it was passed down through my family."
Yun Xia's face softened with empathy. "You have glimpsed the truth, Zhao, but there is still much you don't understand. The flame is part of an ancient legacy, one that has drawn both allies and enemies to your family for generations. But remember—mastery of the flame will not come through answers alone. It will come through the journey, the trials, and the trust you place in yourself."