Flame Empress.
A woman whose name rewrote destiny itself.
Hailed as the most formidable empress in history. In the current epoch, she was the first to transcend the confines of a mortal body, relying on sheer willpower to ascend.
Though born with no immortal bloodline and no innate gifts, she carved her own destiny.
She cut down all rivals, defied the heavens, and stood alone and supreme in the Nine Heavens on a path that gods themselves could not obstruct.
Her journey from less-than-mortal beginnings to absolute power makes her one of the most awe-inspiring figures in the saga.
Every challenger became fuel, every defeat she handed out became a warning, as if declaring to the world; Before me, the dao becomes meaningless.
The geniuses of hidden sects, nurtured in secret realms since birth, shattered like clay idols.
The heirs of immortal clans, born with bloodlines older than worlds, found their vaunted supremacy useless before her.
She stepped on ascendant prodigies as though they were stepping stones, each footfall resounding through history.
In her era, the sky itself bowed, the constellations dimmed, unable to shine beside her.
No one dared to cultivate loudly, no one dared to dream beyond her shadow. Her very name became a calamity; parents warned their children not to boast, lest the Flame Empress hear them and take offense.
When she proved the Dao to become Supreme Emperor, she burned the very heavens and made the suns and the stars weep before he.
She refined principles with a ruthlessness that frightened even the cosmic laws and the heavens had no choice but to acknowledge her supremacy.
And when the Immortal Gates opened, she shouldered the Heavens Will and pierced the barrier between worlds to become a true immortal and ascended to the Immortal World.
Everyone thought that she would become a nobody, but instead, she made her arrival known by burning an immortal sect who offended her into ashes.
The Immortals raged, offended at her audacity and they united, they schemed. But she answered by challenging them all—on the same day.
Three Immortals fled.
Five went mad, their immortal flames stolen.
And one knelt and begged to be her general.
From that moment, the Immortal World learned reverence.
She reconstructed their hierarchy and tore down old doctrines and wrote her own across the skies in letters of flame that could be seen from every corner of the Universe.
Her dao palaces floated like nurseries of stars, and her followers were said to be so powerful that even their weakest could slay dragons.
Soon, she founded the Eternal Flame Territory, and the land itself ignited, the rivers flowed with magma, trees sprouted leaves of ember, and mountains became colossal furnaces smelting divine metals without end.
It became one of the 12 Forbidden Lands, not because it was closed, but because entry meant death unless she permitted it.
Even Immortal Kings bowed at its borders.
At her peak, she was named one of the 12 Immortal Emperors, her throne was a blaze that devoured the reflections of time and her crown was composed of runes that screamed in primordial tongues.
She stood at the apex of creation, unrivaled, unchallenged, unyielding.
Her history is not merely remembered, but worshipped and revered.
Her entire life is the definition of legend.
A monument to willpower.
A pyre that never dims.
A flame that even eternity cannot extinguish.
But as Shen Haoran sat across from her in a secluded garden pavilion, he felt a flicker of quiet disappointment.
The girl before him was currently struggling to maintain her composure. Her cheeks were still stained with a lingering pink from his kiss on her hand, and her fingers trembled slightly as she gripped her tea cup.
She lacked the world-burning majesty he had anticipated; she was, for now, just a girl who had been pushed into a corner by a cruel world.
'Well,' Haoran thought, watching the steam rise from his cup, 'even the sun is dim before the dawn. She has a long way to go.'
The silence of the pavilion was punctuated only by the distant chirping of birds and the rustle of bamboo.
Huo Yue finally set her cup down, the porcelain clicking against the stone table before she looked him directly in the eye, her gaze regaining some of that sharp, flinty edge that had survived three years of abuse.
"Young Master Shen," she began, her voice steadying. "Let us speak plainly. A dragon does not swim in a shallow puddle without a reason. You are from the Imperial Capital, the scion of a clan that could buy this entire kingdom ten times over, so forgive me if I said I find it hard to believe you would travel across the empire just to honor a dusty promise made by two old men decades ago."
Shen Haoran brought the jade cup to his lips, the fragrant tea warming his throat. "Truth is often simpler than fiction, Yue'er. I am a man who respects the word of my ancestors."
Huo Yue's eyes narrowed, her lips thinning into a line of skepticism. "Forgive my bluntness, but I don't believe you. In this world, interests drive people, not sentiment. If you are here to play some cruel game, or if you simply want to see the 'crippled heiress' for a laugh, please... just break the engagement now. End it with whatever dignity I have left and don't humiliate me and my clan further."
Shen Haoran lowered his cup, his expression turning unreadable as the air in the pavilion seemed to grow heavy, and the ambient Qi in the surroundings began slowing down.
"Huo Yue," he said, his voice dropping an octave. "Look at me. In this empire, there is no one with a status higher than mine. When you sit at the peak, the background of the woman you marry becomes irrelevant. Whether you are a princess of a great sect or the daughter of a small-city patriarch, you are still 'below' me. Thus, your status doesn't matter. But my reputation does."
He leaned forward slightly, his presence overwhelming. "If the Shen Clan breaks an oath made by its forefathers, we show the world that our word is worth nothing. My reputation is worth more than a hundred provinces. Why would I tarnish it over a marriage contract?"
Huo Yue stared at him, searching his face for a lie, but found only a terrifyingly calm sincerity.
She exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, a strange mix of relief and lingering doubt swirling in her chest.
"I see," she whispered. "So I am a matter of... paperwork and pride."
She can understand that. At least now she knew he has a legitimate reason to actually not break this engagement and isn't just here to give her some hope and break it.
But then, she paused, her eyes flickering. "But won't it still damage your name? To be wed to a 'trash' who cannot even reach the 1st stage of Qi Gathering? The world is not kind to the weak."
Shen Haoran smirked, a flash of something predatory and knowing crossing his handsome features. "My clan has enough resources to force a 'trash' to reach the Nirvana Rebirth stage through sheer pills and spirit stones alone. If I want my wife to be a genius, she will be a genius."
'Damn rich people.' Huo Yue cursed.
He paused, his gaze dropping to the black ring on her finger for a split second before meeting her eyes again.
"But more importantly... I don't believe for a second that you are trash."
Huo Yue flinched, her heart skipping a beat. "What do you mean?"
"Talent doesn't just vanish like smoke in a breeze," Haoran said smoothly, swirling the tea in his cup. "If I had to guess, your problem was never that you couldn't cultivate, but that you couldn't gather Qi. Something was taking it, wasn't it?"
Huo Yue's hand instinctively tightened around her ring, and she felt a cold sweat break out on her neck.
"And now," Haoran continued, his smile turning gentle, almost predatory in its kindness, "I can feel the faint, restless traces of Qi beginning to stir within your meridians. It's hotter, sharper even, completely different from a regular Qi. Hm, yes, you've found a way to solve your problem, haven't you, Yue'er?"
Huo Yue remained silent, her mind racing. How could he know? Even the elders couldn't see through me! Is his cultivation truly that high?
Inside the ring, Fairy Liu was deathly still, suppressing her soul fluctuations to the absolute limit.
Having been to the Imperial Capital once, she knew how much of a behemoth the Shen Clan was. In fact, earlier, she couldn't believe that she would see the heir of the Shen Clan in such a backwater place.
She almost thought that it was fake.
But when she sensed that woman who was following Shen Haoran like a servant, she was immediately convinced.
Who else have enough manpower and resources to casually have a Saint act as a bodyguard?
Seeing her distress, Shen Haoran chuckled softly and waved a hand dismissively. "Don't look so frightened. Every genius has their secrets. I won't pry into yours. In fact, I am relieved. It would have been boring if my fiancée had truly given up on herself. I prefer a woman with a bit of fire in her soul."
He reached out, gently caressing her cheeks. "Truly, I am glad. Those three years were hard weren't they? Don't worry, with me here, no one will dare bully you again."
Huo Yue stared at him, lost in that gentle, devastatingly handsome look.
For the first time in three years, someone hadn't looked at her with pity or disgust, but with gentleness and expectation.