After the final hour had passed, they arrived safely at Beiming Palace. The escorting sect cultivators were dismissed, leaving only the four of them in the carriage. Yu Xiao carefully slipped out, while Xue Wuya waited for her, his hands extended in a steady, open gesture.
"Rest assured, Your Highness will come to no harm," he said, his voice calm and sincere.
The Duan brothers exchanged a glance.
Yu Xiao hesitated at first, but eventually accepted the Marshal's assistance. Drawing a deep breath, she placed her palm in Xue Wuya's hand, allowing him to guide her descent from the carriage.
"I will escort you inside. Please follow me," he added, bowing respectfully to Yu Xiao before turning to lead the way.
Yu Xiao followed without further hesitation, the Duan brothers trailing close behind.
Beyond the massive gate, a wide courtyard unfurled before her. The landscape was breathtaking—vast, awash with vibrant flowers and ancient trees whose leaves shimmered in a spectrum of colors, filling the air with a lingering, sweet fragrance.
It was so beautiful, so captivating—like paradise descended to earth.
The sheer splendor made her pause, momentarily overwhelmed.
Xue Wuya, noticing her wonder, paused as well and walked back to join her.
"This garden has been nurtured by my ancestors for a thousand years," he said softly.
Yu Xiao's smile faded as she glanced at him.
"It is sustained by spiritual energy, granting it eternal vitality," he continued. "Few cultivators visit, but many come here to rest and find peace. These are Aetherbloom—the Trees of Rebirth and Healing. Their fragrance acts as a divine medicine, able to heal minor ailments, though extraordinary illnesses remain beyond their power."
Yu Xiao's eyes widened in disbelief.
"Seriously? These trees can cure sickness? But they just look like ordinary trees—well, extraordinarily beautiful ones," she replied, smiling in wonder.
"To most, they appear as mere trees," Xue Wuya agreed. "But at night, they transform—becoming as if woven from solidified moonlight."
"For a thousand years, only these three remain."
Yu Xiao's curiosity deepened. "Why?"
He grew solemn. "They are incredibly rare, thriving only where spiritual power is most pure. Once, they flourished in the inner court of the Southern Domain. But during the chaos of destruction and misuse, they vanished—like ash on the wind."
A hush followed his mention of the Southern Domain.
"You mentioned that place," Yu Xiao said. "It must have been renowned—the twins talk about it, too."
Xue Wuya nodded, a faint smile touching his lips. "Very true." He took a step forward, and Yu Xiao followed.
"The Southern Domain was rich in spiritual energy, attracting powerful cultivators. None could enter with ill intent. Its ruler was as beautiful as a goddess—strong, formidable, and the only true adversary of the Demon King."
Yu Xiao paused.
"So, you knew that ruler?" she asked, tilting her head.
Xue Wuya faced her, arms crossed. "I was less than three centuries old at the time," he said gravely.
Yu Xiao's eyes widened. "You… you were there? Then how old are you now?"
Xue Wuya chuckled at her disbelief. "Over three hundred years have passed since I last saw her. She was truly exquisite—long hair like red silk, expressive amber eyes, a face both sharp and gentle. Utterly ethereal." His words conjured the image vividly in Yu Xiao's mind.
A slow smile spread across Yu Xiao's face. "She must have been remarkable."
"Indeed," Xue Wuya said. "But fate turned against her, thanks to that scoundrel, Zhou Yan."
Yu Xiao froze, shock widening her eyes.
Wait, is he saying…?
"Young Master!"
A maidservant approached, bowing respectfully. She wore a light pink robe, her hair in a maiden's bun, her features delicate as a fairy. Yu Xiao stared at her, unblinking.
"The Palace Lord is waiting for you. You may meet him now," she said softly, head bowed.
Young Master? Didn't they say he's a general? Who is he really? Yu Xiao's mind spun with questions.
Xue Wuya nodded, signaling for the maidservant to leave. He turned to Yu Xiao. "Follow me," he said coldly, striding away.
The Duan brothers hurried to Yu Xiao's side.
"Unbelievable!" Han-Qing whispered, eyes fixed on Xue Wuya. "He's never spoken with anyone so long, or so kindly."
Yu Xiao shrugged, unimpressed. For her, it seemed normal.
The Duan brothers crouched beside her.
"Did the general ask you for something?" Han-Yun teased.
Yu Xiao crossed her arms. "Just a conversation about those beautiful trees."
Their smiles faded in surprise—it was only about trees!
The general's story had ended with the man called Zhou Yan. Yu Xiao's mind churned with unasked questions about the ruler Xue Wuya described, but the answer was already forming in her heart. Could it be…?
"My Lady, what's on your mind?" Han-Yun waved a hand to draw her back.
She blinked, exhaled. "The general said to follow him." She glanced at them, raising an eyebrow. "And I never expected you two to start gossiping. I can read your thoughts, you know."
The twins straightened, sheepish. "We do not dare, my Lady!" they chorused.
"Enough drama. Let's go."
A moment later, they entered the exterior hallway of Beiming Palace.
For the first time in her life, Yu Xiao was stunned—amazed by the foundation of the hall. She had never seen anything like it.
A crucial truth: Beiming Palace was once known as the Northern Black Tortoise Palace (Běi Xuánwǔ Gōng).
In the ancient annals of the Nine Continents, Beiming Palace did not always bear its current name. In the primordial era, when the Four Symbols walked the mortal realm as divine guardians, it was known as Northern Black Tortoise Palace—the earthly seat of Xuanwu, the Black Tortoise of the North.
Long before sects and domains arose, the Four Divine Beasts divided the heavens: Qinglong to the East, Zhuque to the South, Baihu to the West, and Xuanwu to the North.
Xuanwu—the tortoise entwined with a serpent, symbol of longevity, winter, water, and steadfast defense—chose the frozen peaks of the Northern Domain as its throne. There, upon a mountain shaped like a coiled tortoise shell, it breathed forth a palace of black glacial jade and eternal frost.
Here stood the Northern Black Tortoise Palace: a fortress where snow never melted, rivers ran with spirit-water granting millennia of life, and the walls whispered secrets of immortality. Cultivators seeking true longevity made pilgrimage, offering tribute to Xuanwu's lingering will.
Eons passed. Xuanwu ascended to the celestial vault, leaving only its protective aura. Mortal cultivators—the ancestors of the Beiming lineage—settled the palace, inheriting its divine legacy.
They renamed it Beiming Palace, after the ancient classic:
"In the northern ocean there is a fish; its name is Kun. The Kun is so large no one knows how many thousand li long. It transforms into a bird; its name is Peng…"
("Beiming you yu, qi ming wei Kun…" from Zhuangzi.)
"Bei" for North, Xuanwu's domain.
"Ming" for the deep, mysterious northern ocean.
The name honored the palace's origin: a place of depth, hidden power, and transformation—from mortal to immortal, from tortoise-like endurance to peng-like ascension.
Yet, the elders still whispered the old title in reverence. When the palace arrays activated, faint silhouettes of a black tortoise entwined with a serpent appeared upon the highest peak—a reminder that Beiming Palace remained, at its core, the earthly seat of Xuanwu.
Thus, Beiming Palace stood not simply as a sect's seat, but as the living legacy of the Black Tortoise itself—guardian of the North, cradle of endurance, and eternal home to those who bore its ancient blood.