Ashes Of The Phoenix: The Crimson Pact

The days passed in a strange kind of rhythm.

Training. Meals. Patrols. Moments of quiet. Moments of something almost like peace.

And at the center of it all—Li Feng and Shen Yun.

Shen Yun found himself growing used to life in the Nine Gates Sect. It was colder than his home, more disciplined, stricter. But there was something else too—a steadiness he hadn't realized he needed.

He trained daily with Li Feng. And in those sessions, Shen Yun started to see beyond the red robes and cold expression. There was thoughtfulness there. Precision. And, occasionally, something softer.

Something... human.

That morning, Shen Yun walked into the main garden to find a small group of disciples gathered. A few giggled behind their hands, others stood staring openly. At the center of the attention stood a tall girl in pale robes with silver embroidery.

She was beautiful. Strong posture, elegant hands, a sword strapped to her back with ease.

"Who's that?" Shen Yun asked one of the outer disciples passing by.

"Elder Jiang's daughter," the disciple whispered. "Li Feng's cousin. She just returned from the Southern branch. They say she and the Young Master used to train together."

Shen Yun nodded slowly.

She turned just then—and her eyes landed on Li Feng, who had just arrived at the courtyard edge.

Her face brightened.

"A-Feng!"

Li Feng blinked.

Then, in a rare moment, he smiled.

Shen Yun felt it like a flicker in his chest. Unfamiliar. Irritating.

Why was he smiling like that?

The girl ran up to Li Feng and pulled him into a brief, familiar hug. Their conversation that followed was low and easy. Laughs exchanged. Hands brushing in passing.

Shen Yun turned away.

He told himself it didn't matter.

But later, when Li Feng found him by the library steps and said, "Let's train again this evening," Shen Yun answered a bit too quickly:

"Aren't you busy with your cousin?"

Li Feng raised an eyebrow. "Jealous?"

Shen Yun blinked.

"What? No! She's your cousin. That would be weird."

Li Feng gave a slow smile.

"Then why do you look like you want to break your cup in half?"

Shen Yun flushed.

"I just…don't like crowds. That's all."

Li Feng didn't press, but the amused glint in his eyes lingered far too long.

That evening, the courtyard was quieter. Rain had passed, leaving puddles on the stone paths and a clean scent in the air.

Shen Yun stood opposite Li Feng with a practice blade in hand. The session was sharper today. Less talking. More movement.

But every time Shen Yun lunged forward, a part of him imagined that girl watching. Smiling. Standing beside Li Feng again.

Why did it bother him so much?

Wasn't Li Feng just pretending to protect him?

Wasn't this all just an act?

But the way Li Feng's hand steadied his when he almost slipped—the way his voice softened when he said, "Careful. That wrist is still healing"—none of that felt fake.

And that only made it worse.

After they ended the spar, Shen Yun sat on the wooden step, breathing hard.

Li Feng tossed him a cloth.

"You were distracted."

Shen Yun wiped his face. "You were smug."

Li Feng smirked. "So what if I was?"

A silence stretched between them.

Then Shen Yun asked, "Do you trust me?"

Li Feng looked at him sharply. "Why?"

"You said you want to see what I'll become. But I wonder if you think I'll break."

Li Feng didn't answer right away. He sat beside Shen Yun, resting his arm on his knee.

"I don't trust easily."

Shen Yun looked down at his hands. "Me neither."

The mark on his wrist pulsed softly beneath the fabric.

Li Feng's eyes flickered there, then away.

The silence returned.

But it wasn't cold anymore.

Far away, Wei Lan stood at the edge of the rooftop, watching the two of them from above.

His fingers dug into the tiles.

He had never seen Li Feng sit beside anyone like that.

He remembered when it was him. Long nights after missions. Quiet talks over cold rice. The way Li Feng used to lean back and say nothing, but still stay beside him.

Now he barely got a nod.

And Shen Yun—who was he, really?

Wei Lan turned and disappeared into the shadows.

Late that night, Shen Yun couldn't sleep. He wandered into the training grounds alone, his blade resting against his back.

The sky above was dark but clear. Stars blinked faintly overhead.

He went through the forms his shifu had taught him long ago. Slowly. Silently.

Memories rose with every movement. The sound of his sectmates' laughter. The scent of sandalwood incense from the main hall. The voice of his master whispering, "You move like wind. Gentle, but never lost."

He almost didn't hear the footsteps.

But Li Feng didn't try to hide them.

"Midnight training?"

Shen Yun lowered his blade. "You too?"

Li Feng nodded. He stepped closer, then paused.

"That move you just did. That wasn't Nine Gates style."

Shen Yun smiled faintly. "Crimson Wing technique. You wouldn't know it."

Li Feng walked over, picked up a small stone, and tossed it into the night.

"Teach me."

Shen Yun blinked. "What?"

Li Feng turned to face him. "I want to see what your sect left behind."

Something inside Shen Yun tightened.

He nodded slowly.

And beneath the stars, he taught Li Feng a forgotten sword form. Movements born of fire and grace. It was the first time he'd shared anything from his past.

And it felt like setting a piece of his heart free.

Later that night, in the secret archive, Li Feng stared at the mirror again.

Shen Yun's image reflected back at him.

Not the mark.

Not the Vessel.

Just the boy.

And for the first time…

Li Feng didn't know which one he wanted more.

End of Chapter 11.