Chapter Fifteen: The Lost Phoenix Feather in the Ancestral Hall

The Phoenix Clan, too, were descendants of the ancient beast tribes. Naturally, they understood that Junyang’s lineage was likely superior to theirs—perhaps even belonging to the more mysterious legendary race, the Divine Soaring Serpent Clan.

Indeed, they were merely the Phoenix Clan, whereas the Soaring Serpent Clan was the Divine Soaring Serpent Clan.

In earlier years, the Phoenix Clan themselves had been counted among the divine lineages, but they had since fallen into decline.

The Soaring Serpent Clan existed only as legend in the Upper Realm; no one had expected to witness a true blood descendant of the Soaring Serpents. At this moment, Feng Yanhua’s expression was nothing short of astonishing.

“Then I must trouble you, Contracted Beast,” he said deferentially.

“His name is Junyang,” Yuxi Yue interjected.

“Yes, then I must trouble Lord Junyang,” Feng Yanhua corrected himself, showing far more respect, for the suppression of bloodlines was innate.

“It’s nothing,” Junyang replied loftily, flicking his tail with a touch of arrogance.

“Master, let’s ascend the mountain first. As for the mountain-protection formation, once we’re settled, we’ll trouble Senior Brother Junyang with it,” Feng Qinghe stepped forward, easing much of the awkwardness.

“Very well,” Yuxi Yue replied calmly, turning to continue up the mountain.

Her pace was unhurried now, her senses keenly attuned to the disturbances around her.

Suddenly, a flurry of hurried footsteps echoed from higher up the mountain. Yuxi Yue paused and looked up.

Moments later, a young Phoenix clansman, roughly the same age as Feng Qinghe, came stumbling and tumbling down the slope. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes when he saw Feng Yanhua.

“Clan Leader! There’s terrible news!”

“Can’t you see we have guests? Compose yourself! Stand up straight and speak properly!”

The young man wiped his tears, swallowed hard, straightened his posture, and enunciated each word: “The Phoenix Feather in the ancestral shrine has burned away.”

“What? What burned away?” Feng Yanhua could scarcely believe his ears.

The young man faltered, his voice much quieter now. “The Phoenix Feather—the clan’s Phoenix Feather. With the tremor just now, it suddenly fell and landed right into the incense burner. And then… it caught fire…”

“Nonsense!” Feng Yanhua’s fury was barely contained. “Do you know what that feather is? It’s a divine artifact! How could it possibly burn? Utter nonsense!”

“It’s true, Clan Leader! Please, come see for yourself!” The young man was sweating profusely with anxiety.

The matter of the Phoenix Feather indeed rattled Feng Yanhua. Turning to Yuan Yibai, he said, “Young Master Yuan, urgent matters have arisen in the clan. I must attend to them. I beg your pardon for the neglect.”

“It’s quite all right. Tend to your affairs. Brother Qinghe is with us,” Yuan Yibai replied.

“I thank you for your understanding.”

With a nod from Yuan Yibai, Feng Yanhua swept his sleeve and vanished on the spot.

“This girl’s horoscope must clash with the Phoenix Clan,” Feng Ling’er whispered to Feng Yuechi as she tugged her along.

Feng Yuechi glanced nervously at Yuxi Yue walking ahead, then looked down, whispering to Feng Ling’er, “Ling’er, don’t speak recklessly. The senior is very kind.”

“Tch…” Feng Ling’er was unimpressed by Feng Yuechi’s timidity. “So what if she unsealed your artifact? That makes her a good person? She also shattered the mountain-protection formation.”

Feng Yuechi hurried to cover Feng Ling’er’s mouth. “Ling’er, you know it was the senior who broke the formation. Aren’t you afraid of angering her? Even the clan leader didn’t dare to lose his temper.”

“I’m not afraid.” Feng Ling’er was full of disdain. “She can do as she pleases, but we can’t talk about it?”

Unable to stop her, Feng Yuechi could only shake her head helplessly and fall silent.

Yuxi Yue, of course, overheard their exchange, but she knew she was in the wrong.

Yuan Yibai turned with a smile toward Feng Ling’er. Anyone who could remain at Yuxi Yue’s side naturally had an exceptional appearance, and that smile made Feng Ling’er blush instantly and lower her head.

Yuan Yibai narrowed his eyes, chuckled softly, and strode over to Yuxi Yue’s side.

As Yuan Yibai walked away, Feng Ling’er looked up, ready to continue her complaints, only to find she had lost her voice.

She glared anxiously at Feng Yuechi, but Feng Yuechi, unable to understand, merely grew more silent and even edged away.

Yuxi Yue glanced sidelong at Yuan Yibai and, for once, spoke first. “There was no need for that.”

“I don’t like to hear such things,” Yuan Yibai replied, still smiling, though his tone carried a hint of menace.

Yuxi Yue said nothing more.

Junyang, however, found himself reevaluating Yuan Yibai. His little mistress was never afraid of causing trouble; she simply disliked being bothered and usually chose to ignore such matters. Naturally, he followed her lead.

Yet it was rare for anyone to step forward on her behalf over such a minor matter. She had never had many friends.

But then Junyang noticed Yuan Yibai once again staring absently at Yuxi Yue’s waist, and all his earlier goodwill evaporated. He suspected Yuan Yibai’s actions were merely a ruse to lower his guard.

“What a sly fox!”

“???” Yuan Yibai was utterly baffled by the rebuke.

Meanwhile, back in the clan’s ancestral shrine, Feng Yanhua was livid as he beheld the charred remnant of the so-called Phoenix Feather, a single drop of golden spiritual nectar trickling from it—unmistakably a fake.

The servants in the shrine knelt trembling with fear.

“You’ve cleaned this shrine for so long and never noticed the Phoenix Feather was missing?” Feng Yanhua thundered, tossing the burnt feather to the ground. “Can’t you tell this is a counterfeit?”

“Please calm your anger, Clan Leader!” pleaded a servant at his feet. “This peacock feather was coated with Phoenix Immortal Flower sap; it was nearly impossible to distinguish. If it hadn’t fallen into the ashes today and caught fire, even you might not have noticed!”

How could Feng Yanhua not grow angrier at this?

“Traitors!” With a vicious kick, he sent the servant sprawling out of the shrine.

The servant coughed up blood twice and fainted on the spot.

Feng Yanhua frowned in annoyance and called out, “Guests will be arriving soon. Why hasn’t anyone carried him out yet?”

“Yes, sir!” A flurry of footsteps ensued as servants hurried to remove the unconscious man.

“Who has entered the ancestral shrine recently?” Feng Yanhua, now calmer, began his inquiry.

“Reporting to the Clan Leader, only First Miss Feng Tianwu and Sixth Miss Feng Tianjiao have visited,” replied the steward, Feng You, after consulting the shrine’s ledgers.

“Tianjiao? What was she doing here?”

Feng You hesitated for a moment, then explained, “Miss Tianjiao said she still couldn’t guide spiritual energy into her body after all this time, so she wanted a moment of quiet in the ancestral shrine.”

Feng Yanhua nodded in understanding. Tianjiao was nearly seven and still unable to cultivate—a rather slow start on the path.

“No one else?”

Regarding his eldest daughter, Feng Tianwu, Feng Yanhua didn’t even bother to ask. In his eyes, there was no one among the younger generation more sensible or accomplished.

Feng You set the record aside and shook his head. “No one else.”

Feng Yanhua glanced down at the row of kneeling servants.

“Think carefully. Is there anything you’ve overlooked?”

A servant named Yingcheng, kneeling by Feng You’s feet, looked up hesitantly, unsure whether to speak.

Feng You frowned and said sternly, “If you have something to say, speak up.”

“The night before last… a cat slipped into the ancestral shrine…”