He didn’t have to say it like that, Yijun thinks bitterly as he splashes his face with the cold water of the lake. It wasn’t his fault he smelled; he hadn’t exactly planned on tagging along with a dragon, and certainly hadn’t packed a change of clothes.

 When Lord HuO made that cutting remark about his scent, Yijun felt a wave of shame crash over him. His shame made him shrink into a ball and the phoenix clutched him in his talons and carried them both to the dragon. They find him at the heart of a massive crater, beside the collapsed entrance of a wolf den. The air is thick with the stench of death, and the ground was littered with the carcasses of giant wolves. The remains of a fierce battle are scattered around the crater—charred and splintered tree trunks lay like the bones of fallen giants, their blackened limbs reaching out in twisted agony.

 Lord HuO then picks them both up and fly them to a lake where the dragon now naps. Grateful for the opportunity, Yijun wades into the water some distance away, finally able to take his first bath in weeks. He plunges his whole head under the surface, letting the cold water muffle Lord HuO’s voice as he vigorously scrubbed his scalp. The water around him darkens with grime as it washes away from his hair. There is no soap around so he rubs at his skin until it tingles, scrubbing every inch of himself until his flesh stings. Even when he finished, he goes over his body again, determined to rid himself of every last bit of filth. When he finally emerges from the water, his skin is raw and red like a boiled shrimp from the rough bath.

 His clothes are still filthy, so he strips them off and begin to wash them in the lake, scrubbing furiously. When it shines clean and spotless, he looks towards the shore. Lord HuO had set a nearby tree ablaze, its fire casting a warm, flickering light over the clearing, so Yijun thinks he can use the heat to dry his clothes before the cold sets in. He weaves a makeshift skirt from wide leaves and vines, draping them around his underclothes in an attempt to appear presentable to the gods.

 The summer air clings to Yijun like a warm blanket as he walks toward the flickering glow of the burning tree. As he draws closer, he notices the dragon is awake, frowning at HuO, who seemed to be enjoying the dragon's irritation. Yijun glances around and find a sturdy branch to hang his wet clothes, positioning them near the bonfire to dry. Meanwhile, the dragon’s mild scolding meets HuO's playful teasing, their conversation quickly turning to matters far beyond Yijun’s understanding.

 The air around them thrums with an energy that seemed to pulse in time with their words. Each exchange between the dragon and HuO sends ripples of pressure through Yijun’s head, making his temples throb and his heart race. His body heats up, a strange, uncomfortable sensation that dissipated only when he deliberately tunes out their discussion. Perhaps this is what enlightenment felt like, but to Yijun, it was more of a curse than a blessing.

 Deciding he will no longer listen to the gods only to make his head ache, Yijun turns his attention to preparing dinner for the three of them. The gods' conversation is too much for him, so he quietly moves away, his steps taking him toward a patch of wild greenery. There, he finds a cluster of shepherd’s purse growing close to the ground, and he kneels down happily to uproot a bunch. Nearby, wild onions, garlic, and chives sprouts in abundance, and he meticulously harvests the entire patch, his hands moving quickly as he gathers the fragrant herbs.

 His foraging leads him to the water’s edge, where he spots a cluster of lotus plants. Rolling up the legs of his underpants, Yijun wades into the cool water, carefully harvesting the lotus seeds, picking off the broad leaves, and digging up the roots from the muddy bed. As he straightens up, his gaze fell upon a clump of bamboo growing in the distance. With his harvest piled onto the lotus leaves, he makes his way to the bamboo grove, where fresh shoots pokes out from the earth. He collects a few shoots, and while he is at it, snapped off some stems and twigs, which he cleaned and set aside to use as makeshift chopsticks.

 With his arms full, Yijun returns to where he had left the vegetables. Gathering everything together, he brings his bounty back to the campfire. The gods are still deep in conversation, their voices a low hum in the background, so Yijun decides to go after some fish. He has seen fat, juicy bass swimming near the lotus plants earlier, so he sharpens a stick into a makeshift spear and waded back into the water. After a short while, he manages to catch five good-sized fish, their scales glinting in the sunlight as he carried them back to the campfire.

 Back at the fire, Yijun set to work preparing the meal. He stuffs the bamboo segments with the vegetables and herbs, then placed them carefully atop the glowing coals to roast. The fish he cleans with practiced ease, stuffing them with the remaining herbs before skewering them on the bamboo twigs. He arranges the skewers over the fire, the aroma of grilling fish and roasting vegetables mingling in the warm summer air, a comforting scent that filled the camp.

 As Yijun continues to cook, the crackling of the fire blends with the soft rustle of leaves in the warm summer air. He tries to focus on the task at hand, but his ears twitch at the conversation between Lord HuO and the dragon seated across from him.

 “What do you mean some of it is the rebels’ fault?” Lord HuO’s voice cuts through the quiet evening, a note of disbelief in his tone.

 Yijun stirs the pot, pretending to be engrossed in his cooking, but he can’t help perking up his ears to listen more closely.

 “The frequency and severity of the disasters occurring suggest there is a serious imbalance with the elements,” the dragon explains. “Such things happen when a lot of power is drawn from the system and retained instead of being sent back into the Cycle.”

 “You mean this is different than what happened 500 years ago?”

 The dragon shifts in his seat. “Yes. The rise of Heaven Grade Beasts was due to those beasts gaining power outside the system. That won’t happen again.”

 As Yijun listens, his thoughts drift to the stories his grandparents used to tell him. He vaguely recalls tales of a calamity that occurred centuries ago, when Enlightened Beasts grew so powerful they fought for territory, nearly tearing the world apart. The dragons had appeared then, striking down the troublemakers and restoring peace. Those stories had always portrayed the dragons as benevolent protectors of humanity—a notion that Yijun had learned, only weeks ago, to be false.

 Lord HuO’s eyes narrow as he peers at the dragon, his lips pressed into a thin line. The dragon remains silent, his face a mask of calm, revealing nothing. Finally, Lord HuO shrugs, as if dismissing a thought he can’t quite grasp.

 Yijun notices the food is ready and moves to break the tense silence. “My lords, dinner is ready,” he says, bowing slightly as he presents the meal.

 The dragon accepts half of the bamboo segment and, with practiced ease, begins to pick off pieces of lotus root and fish with the chopsticks Yijun had provided. Lord HuO, on the other hand, stares at his food for a moment before picking up the chopsticks and shredding the food into pieces, clearly distracted and in no mood to eat.

 Sensing the lingering tension in the air, Yijun decides to speak, hoping to lighten the mood. “I overheard your lordships talking about rebels. May I know what they are?” He asks, addressing Lord HuO, who seems more approachable and less preoccupied with eating than the dragon.

 “They’re Enlightened Beasts and humans, of course,” Lord HuO answers, his tone casual as if discussing the weather. “Some, upon reaching Enlightenment, refuse to obey the Great Will. The dragons call them rebels.”

 Yijun glances at the dragon, who is entirely focused on finishing the last of the fish on his plate. “So why do the dragons want to kill them?” Yijun asks, his voice cautious.

 Lord HuO smirks slightly, as if amused by Yijun’s curiosity. He uses a single chopstick to draw in the dirt, tracing a semicircle. “It messes up the World’s cycle. This world is governed by the forces of life and death.” He completes the circle in the dirt, the two halves now connected. “Life brings Death, Death brings Life,” he continues, tracing the circle repeatedly, his voice taking on a rhythmic, almost hypnotic quality. “On and on, without end. This is the true nature of the world. Enlightenment occurs when living beings grasp this truth. But some refuse to join the cycle. They hoard life, becoming immortal. And when life is halted, death cannot happen. When death cannot happen, no new life can be brought forth. The wheel does not turn so that’s where the dragons step in.”

 Yijun’s mind races as he recalls the dragon’s recent actions. “Is that why His Lordship attacked the wolf family earlier? Because they were Enlightened?”

 Lord HuO nods, his expression turning serious. “Precisely. He is the Heavenly Tribulation that judges whether Enlightened Beings are worthy of their power.”

 A shiver runs down Yijun’s spine, and he has to stop himself from instinctively moving away. Enlightenment, which once seemed like a blessing, now feels more like a curse. The thought of having power and a kingdom, only to be obliterated by a dragon of calamity, is terrifying.

 “So, are Your Lordships exempt from this cycle? You’re both immortal,” Yijun asks.

 “Yes,” Lord HuO replies, his tone pondering. “Achieving immortality releases you from this world’s cycle but it also brings away too much of the World’s energy so there is a risk of the world fully collapsing and not reincarnating. That’s why dragons like him here have to control the number of immortals existing, else you mortals will just disappear into the void like dusts in the wind.”

 Yijun glances again at the dragon, who has now finished his meal and stands up. Without a word, the dragon turns away and heads toward the water, his movements as fluid and silent as the night itself.

 “Immortals cannot truly die,” Lord HuO says, as if reading Yijun’s unspoken question. “Unless the dragons permanently erase their existence. When they do, that being cannot even reincarnate. When immortals die, they don’t reincarnate, but they lose their forms, breaking up into pieces into the mortal world below.”

Memories of the village and the Jie kingdom flits through his mind, bringing in a ribbon of worry which makes him ask, “So about the people the dragon destroyed like-like the wolves back then, were they permanently erased or-?

 Lord Huo laughs and shakes his head, ignorant of Yijun’s true concern. “Oh no, dragons don’t just use that power so casually. Its reserved only for the most dangerous threats. Even then, it will shrink the world which the dragons most want to avoid.” He extends a hand to pat his hand, fully believing Yijun is sad about the wolves. “Don’t worry about those furry creatures, you’ll see them again in the next life.”

Yijun glances at the dragon who was sleeping on the water. “So what happens if he dies?” he asks.

“You’ll have to ask him yourself,” Lord HuO replies with a shrug. “Like you, this is the first time I’ll see a dragon die.” He yawns, stretching lazily, as if the night’s conversation has drained him. The firelight flickers, casting long shadows across the clearing. It seems the night is drawing to a close.

 When Lord Huo flies away to roost in the trees, Yijun quietly cleans the camp, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts, before finally sitting down to eat his own meal alone with his thoughts and the knowledge of immortals he had just learned.