Google seaʀᴄh novel※fire.net Time flew by. Before he knew it, it was mid-March. Li Yuan did a bit of mental math and figured that his grandson, or perhaps granddaughter, must be due soon in the Nine Flames. So he made his way back north, to the White Deer Tribe. There, he asked Yao Jue for news, only to learn that Meng Xingxian had already given birth to a healthy baby boy a month ago. She had delivered the baby in the Trueflame Tribe, and hadn’t shown the slightest intention of coming here. Not only that, she hadn’t even held a full-month banquet, nor sent any invitations to them. No one had been invited, not Snow, not Ping’an, not anyone at all. Snow, furious and heartbroken, had fallen ill and taken to bed. Li Yuan frowned slightly when he heard all this. Then he had Yao Jue lead him to Snow’s tent. Inside, the woman lay nestled in soft wolf pelts, her breathing heavy and uneven, clearly unwell. Her eyes were open, staring blankly at the flickering flames dancing on the thick hide ceiling. But even as she heard footsteps, she didn’t turn her head. Not until Li Yuan softly called, “Snow.” Only then did Snow slowly turn, surprise flickering in her eyes as she looked at him. He stepped closer. She reached up and gently brushed a hand through his snowy white hair, then whispered, voice trembling, “The children have all grown…and we’re getting old.” Li Yuan replied, “We met just 20 years ago, there’s still a long road ahead. Who’s old?” Snow sighed. “Naran let himself be bewitched by that enchantress. Even after having a child, he doesn’t bother to tell us. It’s like he’s cut ties completely. He’s been played like a puppet. Foolish, so foolish… Cough cough. “And me? I used to stew tonics and nourishing porridge for that woman, tried to help her recover… But in the end, she never saw us as family. Maybe…she never planned to keep us around at all. She only spared us because we behaved, because we never caused her any trouble.” Her voice was calm, but her words were laced with bitterness and anger. Li Yuan gently ruffled the hair of the woman who had once been the matriarch of the Nine Flames. In his memories, Snow had always been that big, impulsive girl, the kind who’d shout, Why waste money? Just rob it! without batting an eye. But now, all that youthful brashness had long since faded. “Focus on resting. Live well and happily,” Li Yuan said softly. Snow gritted her teeth. “I just can’t swallow this!” Li Yuan replied, “Naran’s woman nearly overturned the entire Nine Flames Tribe on her own. So what’s the use of stewing in your anger?” “You…!” Snow sat up in a huff, glaring at him. “You actually said that?!” Li Yuan pulled her into an embrace and gently patted her back, chuckling. “Our children and grandchildren will walk their own paths. Besides…I’m still here watching, aren’t I?” Snow narrowed her eyes. “Then tell me, what’s your plan?” But Li Yuan didn’t answer her question. Instead, he asked quietly, “Why did we give our son the name Naran?” Snow paused, then whispered, “For a life of glory.” Li Yuan nodded. “And now, with that woman by his side…do you think he’ll achieve it?” “...” Snow fell silent. Suddenly, she understood. The one standing in the way of the the Khagan’s rise wasn’t that woman. It was her. That woman had already subdued countless two-headed direwolves, and would likely command even more powerful beasts in the future. She was walking beside Naran in his conquest of the Central Plains, helping him redraw the map of the world. Naran had only three or four decades of life to spend. A life of such brilliance, wasn’t that exactly what he had always dreamed of? To say he was being manipulated by her… But the truth was, the Nine Flames, even the direwolves, were now following his lead. That was why he was so busy. So busy, he’d forgotten to invite his own parents. He likely assumed Meng Xingxian would take care of it. And when she didn’t, there was little he could say. Perhaps he’d simply offer his mother and father a warm smile and an apology when he finally returned. Meng Xingxian, on the other hand, clearly intended to keep the older generation completely out of the power circle. And perhaps, in her eyes, this exclusion was an act of mercy. Because if there had been a fierce clash between her and Li Yuan…the outcome might not have been mere distance and silence. It could have been far worse. “My dear Snow,” Li Yuan said gently, “have you come to terms with it?” There was no answer, only a long, heavy sigh. Snow exhaled, a lifetime of emotion riding that breath. Li Yuan leaned closer and whispered in her ear, “Glory always comes with a price. Heroes are often lonely. Why? Because the more a hero must carry, the less they can give to those they love. We’re his parents. If even we can’t understand him…who else in this world will? Even if he gives us too little in return, we should still love him, unconditionally.” Snow was quiet for a long time. Then, in a whisper, she said, “You’re right.” Li Yuan reached out and gently played with the ends of her hair, then suddenly smiled. “Too empty.” “What…?” she asked, puzzled. Li Yuan grinned. “It’s missing a branch of peach blossoms. Right now, the peach trees at the Temple of the Heavenly Master in the Jade Capital are blooming beautifully. Tomorrow, I’ll bring you a branch.” Li Yuan returned to the dilapidated Temple of the Heavenly Master. Amid the overgrowth and desolation, he picked the brightest, most vibrant branch of peach blossoms. By chance, or rather, by mischance, the man he’d drunkenly met beneath the peach trees last time was nowhere to be found. With the flowers in hand, Li Yuan returned to the frozen tundra of the Western Extremes, and carefully tucked the impossibly vivid blossoms—something that could never bloom in this land of eternal night and snow—gently into Snow’s hair. Snow looked into the bronze mirror and gave a small shake of her head. A faint, fresh scent of peach blossoms drifted into her nose. Her eyes welled up with tears. And in the next moment, the tears flowed freely. She turned and threw herself into Li Yuan’s arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Li Yuan comforted her like a child, gently stroking her back, running his fingers through her long hair. In that moment, the arc of her life seemed to pass beneath his fingertips. There had been innocence, and there had been grace. And now, all had settled into something quiet and still, as if she had come full circle, back to the beginning. The Ice Folk were strong, yes. But none of them lived long. Snow was no exception. And yet…Li Yuan would live on. For a long, long time. A faint, indescribable loneliness crept into his chest. He turned his head, gazing at the firelight flickering on the thick yellow fabric of the tent wall. The flames burned dry and pale, and the heat grew intense. Suddenly, Li Yuan asked, “What’s our grandson’s name?” “Jen’gal Tengsur.” Snow murmured, wiping her tears. Then she added, “I really don’t understand what those two were thinking. Why name their son that, to extinguish? Even if they wanted to wipe out the Central Plains, isn’t that too heavy a word to place on a child’s shoulders?” Li Yuan’s mind suddenly drifted to the crown prince, Ji Hu. One was named Hu, to protect. The other was named Tengsur, to destroy. There really was a touch of fate in all this. His thoughts flickered like sparks, then settled. “Then, I shall pray for our grandson, Tengsur. I pray he grows up healthy and strong, and becomes a great warrior like his father,” Li Yuan said. “And like his grandfather too! He needs to be as amazing as his grandfather!” Snow added quickly. Li Yuan chuckled and ruffled her hair again, then stood up and stepped outside. He lifted the tent flap, took up the ceremonial bell used for tribal festivals, and walked toward the bonfire. The flame burned pale and dry. As he approached, the air grew hotter. As per usual, Li Yuan had already used White Serpent to temporarily push himself to fourth rank and left a vial of his fourth rank blood with Yan Yu for safekeeping. Only then did he come to the bonfire. Now, the pale flame began to emit a pure white light. That light washed over Li Yuan’s body. He recalled the first time he had drawn power from the bonfire in the Trueflame Tribe. Mimicking that moment, he began to dance—wild, frenzied, almost possessed—swinging the prayer bell, chanting aloud the blessings recorded in the ancient scrolls of the Nine Flames. His voice was loud. The chant echoed far, reaching even the servants on the outer edges of the encampment. With every step of his dance, he drew more of the flame’s light into himself. Alone, he spun and leapt around the fire, singing at the top of his lungs, dancing like a madman. The chant’s meaning was something — “Eagle, when your wings are full, you must take flight. Though the sky may be treacherous, still you must soar.Wolf, when your fangs are sharp, you must go forth. Though the road may be cruel, still you must march.Child, I bless you with all my heart.Even if the sky rains down chaos, you’ll laugh through the storm;Even if the path is strewn with thorns, you’ll charge forward undaunted.” This was the blessing and hope that the elders of the Nine Flames bestowed upon their descendants. Every rite had once begun with the chieftain leading the way, the people dancing and singing in unison. But ever since the Everflame shifted from deep crimson to a pale, withered hue, the rituals gradually faded away. The fire had simply grown too intense, so intense that even the strongest of the Ice Folk could no longer dance around it. And yet now, a voice long absent echoed once more. It was stirring, resonant, and filled with impassioned joy. It rang through the ears of distant onlookers like a blazing anthem. Even the servants, those who were now prisoners but had once served the elder generation of the Ice Folk, couldn’t hold back their tears upon hearing that familiar voice. When they learned it was the old Khagan himself, singing by the bonfire, they stood frozen, gazing across the tundra toward that flame, completely forgetting whatever tasks they’d been doing. They longed to go near, to dance with him, to join in the singing. Yet they couldn’t because that fire was too hot. Approach it, and they would be consumed. But even if they couldn’t draw near, they could still see him, laughing heartily, singing boldly, and dancing alone before the pale flame. His voice of blessing thundered across the snow-laden winds. Within the Trueflame Tribe, the royal tent had turned golden. Outside the tent, handmaidens waited quietly. Inside, a wild and beautiful woman with an untamed air lifted her robe, nursing a baby boy with powerful gulps. The child was sturdy, his eyes bright and clear. This was Meng Xingxian and Tengsur. Once the feeding was done, Meng Xingxian finally said, “Come in.” A maid entered and leaned in beside the queen, whispering softly. Meng Xingxian’s beautiful eyes widened. “Are you serious?” “It’s true. Many people have already gone to watch, but no one can get close to the fire…” the maid said. She was referring, of course, to the old Khagan’s act of blessing Tengsur. Being one of Meng Xingxian’s closest confidantes, she knew full well that her mistress had deliberately chosen not to invite the former Khagan and Khatun for the birth. And yet the old Khagan bore no resentment. On the contrary, he now stood before that deadly pale fire, offering blessings for Tengsur. Such generosity of spirit…it stirred the heart. And considering how searing the fire was now, could anyone even survive offering prayers so close to it? Meng Xingxian turned to glance at the fire’s glow in the distance, then slowly looked away. Her gaze flickered, clouded with indecision, before she finally closed her eyes and said softly, “I understand.” “Should…should I go inform the Khagan?” the maid hesitated. “The Khagan is training the two-headed wolf cavalry. No one may disturb him now,” Meng Xingxian replied. The maid bowed and withdrew. Meng Xingxian looked down at the baby in her arms and gently said, “Your grandfather is blessing you. So you must grow up strong and fast. Become an eagle. Become a wolf. Swallow the four corners of the world, shatter every ghost domain, scatter the Yin and the Yang, and restore balance to this world.” The baby gurgled joyfully, waving his chubby hands as his mother traced circles in the air above him. Far away, at the bonfire of the White Deer Tribe, Li Yuan was already ablaze. Threads of pure light were pouring into him, surging through his pores, gathering densely around him. It first started as a river, then a sea… Before long, a boundless ocean of flame roared through his body.