Long Junlan did not answer immediately.
For a brief moment, the vast Azure Scaled Court seemed to fall into a peculiar stillness, the kind that presses against the ears and makes even the faintest movement feel intrusive. The incense coiling from the bronze dragon-shaped burners slowed as though the air itself had grown heavy, reluctant to carry anything forward. Outside, distant chimes from the hanging jade bells trembled in the wind, their sound faint but sharp enough to underline the tension settling across the hall.
The Dragon Emperor's frozen smile lingered a heartbeat too long before it subtly shifted—not disappearing, but tightening at the edges in a way that made it less welcoming and far more dangerous. His long white beard swayed slightly as he leaned back against the carved throne, fingers resting lightly against the armrest, tapping once… twice… as though measuring something invisible.
"You base your doubt," he began slowly, his voice smooth but carrying an undercurrent of steel, "on something as trivial as a manner of speech?"
Jiang Yunxian did not respond right away. Instead, he leaned back lazily in his seat, one arm draped over the backrest as though he were seated in a roadside tavern rather than before a sovereign who could command storms. His gaze flickered briefly toward the man standing below the throne—the so-called Rong Qi—before returning to Long Junlan.
"It's never trivial," he said at last, his tone light but precise. "The smallest habits are the hardest to fake. You can change a face, a voice, even an aura if you're skilled enough… but instinct?" He gave a faint chuckle. "That's where people slip."
Xing Yue, seated beside him, did not interrupt, though her eyes moved carefully between the three figures. The hall, magnificent as it was—with its towering pillars carved into spiraling dragons, its polished floor reflecting gold and crimson like molten sunlight—suddenly felt less like a place of honor and more like a stage set for something far more dangerous.
Her gaze lingered on the man presented as Rong Qi.
He looked flawless. Too flawless.
His posture was upright without stiffness, his expression open, his features refined to a degree that would make anyone pause.
Every detail aligned perfectly with what one would expect of a newly ascended phoenix in human form—composed, radiant, and brimming with controlled power.
And yet…
There was something missing.
Not something obvious. Not something one could point at and name. But something subtle, like a note absent from a melody you have heard too many times to forget.
The man smiled again, stepping forward slightly. "If I have done something to displease you, Yunxian, you can simply say so. There is no need for this… suspicion."
His voice was warm, even gentle.
Too gentle.
Jiang Yunxian's lips curved, but there was no humor in it this time. "See?" he said, tilting his head slightly toward Xing Yue as if inviting her to observe. "That right there."
Xing Yue frowned faintly. "What about it?"
He did not look at her when he answered.
"He's trying too hard."
The words landed quietly, but they carried weight.
The man below the throne stiffened—just for a fraction of a second—but it was enough.
Long Junlan's eyes narrowed ever so slightly.
"And what," the Dragon Emperor asked, his tone now edged with impatience, "would you have him do? Greet you with insults? Turn his back on you? Is that how your 'friend' behaves?"
Jiang Yunxian finally let out a short laugh, though it lacked any real amusement. "Honestly?" he said, lifting his hand as though considering it. "That would be far more convincing."
Silence followed again, heavier this time.
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his gaze now fixed directly on the man before him.
"Rong Qi," he said, voice softer now, almost conversational. "Tell me something."
The man looked at him, calm and attentive. "What is it?"
Jiang Yunxian's eyes sharpened.
"When was the last time you threatened to burn my wine stash because I refused to share roasted pheasant with you?"
The question sounded absurd in the grandeur of the court.
Xing Yue blinked.
Even Long Junlan's brows furrowed slightly, as though the question itself was beneath the dignity of the moment.
But Jiang Yunxian did not look away.
Not even for a second.
The man who stood before them hesitated.
It was brief.
Almost imperceptible.
But in a room like this, under a gaze like Jiang Yunxian's, hesitation was louder than any confession.
"I… do not recall such an incident," he replied carefully.
And that was it. That was all it took.
Jiang Yunxian leaned back again, exhaling through his nose as though something had finally been confirmed.
"Of course you don't," he said quietly.
Then he lifted his gaze to Long Junlan, and this time, there was no trace of playfulness left in his expression.
"Because he would never forget that," he added.
The air in the hall shifted.
Not violently, not dramatically—but undeniably.
Like the moment just before a storm breaks.
"And more importantly," Jiang Yunxian continued, his voice now steady and unmistakably cold, "he would never answer me like that."
His gaze flicked once more toward the man.
"Rong Qi doesn't explain himself," he said. "He argues. He complains. He threatens to burn my eyes out when he's annoyed." A faint, almost fond smile touched his lips for the briefest moment. "He's irritating like that."
The smile vanished.
"But this one?" he said, gesturing lazily. "This one is polite."
The word sounded like an accusation.
Xing Yue felt it then—the shift in truth settling into place.
Slow, but certain.
And across the hall, Long Junlan's fingers stopped tapping entirely.
"Then," the Dragon Emperor said at last, his voice lower now, stripped of its earlier warmth, "if this is not your friend…"
His eyes gleamed faintly.
"…what exactly do you think you are standing before?"
___
Xing Yue did not speak immediately after Jiang Yunxian finished.
For a moment, she simply sat there, letting his words settle, letting the quiet truth behind them unravel everything she had overlooked. The memory came back to her with unsettling clarity—the flickering bonfire, the soft crackle of burning wood, and Rong Qi's voice, low and reluctant, speaking into the night as though the darkness itself were the only thing allowed to hear him.
"That friend of mine always makes things difficult for me…"
At the time, she had not paid it much attention. It had sounded like complaint, like mild irritation dressed in sarcasm. But now, placed beside everything Jiang Yunxian had said, that single sentence felt heavier, more revealing. Rong Qi had never been the kind to declare affection openly. If anything, he hid it behind annoyance, behind sharp words and impatient sighs.
And yet, he had stayed. He had followed.
He had endured. That was his way.
Xing Yue slowly lifted her gaze toward the man standing below the throne again. The more she looked, the more wrong it felt. It was not his face though she had no idea what he looked like, nor his posture, nor even his aura that betrayed him. It was something quieter than that—something that could not be imitated because it was never performed to begin with.
Rong Qi's loyalty had never been loud.
It had been stubborn. Unyielding.
And unmistakable.
A sharp, shattering sound ripped through the hall.
"Audacious!"
Long Junlan's voice thundered across the Azure Scaled Court as the blue crystal cup in his hand struck the marble floor and exploded into fragments. The sound echoed violently against the towering pillars, startling even the attendants who stood frozen at the edges of the hall.
"How dare you think that of me?" he roared, rising from his throne in a sweep of heavy robes and flowing white beard. His earlier composure had fractured completely, revealing something far less controlled beneath. "How dare you accuse me like this!"
The air shifted, thick with pressure.
"I poured my strength into training him," Long Junlan continued, his voice sharp with fury, "and you stand here—here, in my court—and call me a liar?"
Jiang Yunxian did not flinch.
If anything, his smile deepened, though it was no longer the careless, teasing expression he wore so easily. This one was sharper, more deliberate, like a blade that had finally been unsheathed.
"I never said you were completely lying," he replied calmly. "If there is one truth in all this, it is that you may have indeed helped him cultivate a human form. That part, I can believe."
His gaze shifted lazily toward the false Rong Qi.
"But this?" he added, gesturing lightly. "This is not him."
There was no hesitation in his voice.
No doubt.
"And since you insist he is," Jiang Yunxian continued, straightening slightly, "then let's keep things simple."
The hall seemed to hold its breath.
"If he truly is Rong Qi," he said, "then he should be able to transform into his phoenix form. Let him do it."
Silence fell.
It was immediate and absolute. All eyes turned toward the man below the throne.
For the first time since he had entered, the composed expression on the false Rong Qi's face began to crack. It was subtle—barely noticeable—but under scrutiny, it was enough. His fingers curled slightly at his sides, and a faint tension crept into his shoulders.
Still, he stepped forward. Flames began to gather. They licked at the air around him, swirling upward in controlled bursts of heat and light. The temperature in the hall rose, the golden decorations reflecting the fire until everything seemed to shimmer with molten brilliance.
He opened his mouth and released a roar.
Fire surged outward.
It was powerful, impressive even. The flames twisted and coiled, forming the vague outline of wings for a fleeting second before collapsing back into formless heat.
But that was all it was. An outline.
A suggestion. Not a transformation.
The flames died down. And the hall fell silent again.
Jiang Yunxian exhaled slowly, as though the final piece of a puzzle had just clicked into place.
"Exactly," he said.
He leaned back once more, completely at ease, as though the tension suffocating the room had nothing to do with him.
"Just as I thought."
His gaze returned to Long Junlan, and there was something almost mocking in the curve of his lips now.
"Wigged beard man," he added casually, "your performance was decent. I might have believed you, if not for one very unfortunate habit."
He tilted his head slightly.
"That bastard," he said, referring to Rong Qi, "has a way of being irritating that cannot be replicated. I'm almost grateful for it now."
There was a pause.Then, softer but far more cutting—
"Otherwise, this would have been much harder to catch."
Xing Yue finally found her voice.
Her brows drew together as she looked at Jiang Yunxian, genuine confusion flickering across her face despite everything that had just unfolded.
"How did you know?" she asked. "How were you certain he couldn't transform into a phoenix?"
Jiang Yunxian glanced at her, then gave a small shrug, as though the answer were painfully obvious.
"Because cultivation is not guesswork," he said. "Every path has its foundation. Dragons have their Dragon Scroll. Demons have their own scriptures. Even you," he added lightly, "have your Star Scroll."
He paused, letting the logic settle.
"The phoenix is no different. There is a Phoenix Scroll. Without it, no matter how much power you pour into someone, they cannot complete the transformation."
His gaze sharpened again as it returned to Long Junlan.
"And when I handed Rong Qi over to you," he continued, his tone now deliberate, "I never mentioned any Phoenix Scroll."
The words hung in the air like a verdict.
"I only said one thing," Jiang Yunxian added, almost lazily. "'After all that trouble, it turns out my companion is an illiterate who doesn't even understand his own kind.'"
A faint smile touched his lips again.
"That was all."
The implication was unmistakable.
If Long Junlan truly knew how to cultivate Rong Qi into a phoenix, he would have needed knowledge he was never given.
And yet, here he stood—presenting a finished result.
Impossible.
Across the hall, Long Junlan's expression finally faltered. It was brief. A flicker.
But it was there.
He coughed once, the sound dry, controlled, but unmistakably uncomfortable.
And in that single moment, the grandeur of the Azure Scaled Court seemed to dim—not in light, but in certainty.
Because whatever authority the Dragon Emperor held, whatever power filled the hall, the truth had already shifted the ground beneath his feet.
___
Xing Yue's confusion did not vanish immediately, but it began to take shape, like mist slowly thinning under the morning sun. She turned slightly toward Jiang Yunxian, her brows drawn together as she carefully retraced everything he had just laid out.
"So," she began slowly, her voice measured, "he made a deal with you… saying he would train Rong Qi, if only you retrieved the Heart of Yanshi from Yanli Continent…"
Her gaze shifted toward Long Junlan, then back again.
"…without actually possessing the Phoenix Scroll?"
Jiang Yunxian did not even hesitate. He snapped his fingers lightly, the crisp sound echoing faintly in the vast hall.
"Exactly."
The ease in his tone felt almost out of place against the tightening tension that now filled the Azure Scaled Court. The golden drapes hanging from the high beams swayed ever so slightly, though no wind could be felt.
Even the incense smoke rising from the dragon-shaped burners seemed to twist more slowly, as though reluctant to move.
Xing Yue exhaled softly, the realization settling deeper.
"Then…" she continued, now more certain, "he should have known that something was wrong. If he truly understood the process, he would have corrected me when I mentioned it earlier."
Jiang Yunxian tilted his head, the faintest hint of amusement returning to his expression.
"And yet," he said, spreading his hands slightly, "he didn't."
There was a pause, and then his smile thinned just a little.
"I suppose," he added, his voice dropping into something quieter but far more pointed, "he simply wasn't aware of it."
That statement did not just linger—it pressed.
Xing Yue turned fully now, her attention locking onto Long Junlan. The confusion in her eyes sharpened into something more analytical, more cautious.
"But that makes no sense," she said. "The Dragon Emperor governs the Beast Realm. Knowledge like this isn't obscure. Even minor sects in the Heavenly Realm are aware of the fundamental scroll systems. It is… basic."
Her voice softened slightly, but the implication grew heavier.
"Even the Heavenly Emperor knows this."
The words hung in the air like a quiet accusation.
"Unless…"
She did not finish the sentence. She did not need to.
Jiang Yunxian's smile returned—slow, deliberate, and unmistakably dangerous.
He turned his head just enough to face Long Junlan directly, his gaze locking onto the Dragon Emperor with a steadiness that bordered on insolence.
"I'm guessing," he said lightly, though his eyes remained sharp, "you don't know about all this, do you… Beard Long?"
The title was casual. Disrespectfully so.
But beneath it was something far more cutting than mockery.
A test.
The hall reacted before the emperor did.
A ripple of unease spread among the attendants lining the walls. Some lowered their heads instinctively, while others stood frozen, caught between fear and disbelief. No one dared speak. No one dared move. Even the guards, clad in scaled armor that gleamed like polished jade, seemed to tighten their grip on their weapons without drawing them.
At the center of it all, Long Junlan sat unmoving. For a long moment, he did not answer.
The silence stretched.
His expression remained composed—too composed. The same faint smile lingered on his lips, but now it felt… hollow. Like a mask worn a moment too long after the performance had ended.
Then, slowly, his fingers curled against the armrest of his throne.
The subtle motion did not escape notice.
His eyes, once warm with feigned amusement, darkened just slightly, like deep water disturbed by something unseen beneath the surface.
"You speak boldly," he said at last.
His voice was calm.