When the Star-Locking Hall collapsed completely, the sky had just begun to turn fish-belly white.
White Snow carried Qing Feng on her back and charged out through the last cloud of dust, landing on the dark red earth of the Ten Thousand Stars Wasteland. The purple-gold flames around her gradually died out, and her Star Phoenix True Form slowly shrank. Golden feathers sank into her skin one by one, her enormous body dwindling until she finally took human form.
Bai Huang'er stood in the morning wind.
She still had that round face, that soft, fluffy crop of silver-white hair, with a few defiant curls sticking up at the ends. But her back was ramrod straight, and her almond-shaped eyes no longer held a blustering show of bravado, but a settled composure. She lowered her head to look at her hands. Her ten fingers were slender, and faint golden markings left by the Star Phoenix Flame lingered on her palms.
Behind her, Ye Han emerged from the dust, supporting himself on the Purple Cauldron. His face was pale as paper, and every step left a bloody footprint on the ground, yet his back was as straight as White Snow's.
Out on the wasteland, the Star Phoenix Alliance's rogue cultivators had already formed ranks to await them. Two hundred people-more than half were gone. The old man from Sandstorm Pass had lost an arm, the female leader from Broken Blade Cliff had gained three scars across her face, and only three of Dry Well Bay's young people remained alive. Yet they stood straight. No one sat down. No one fell.
Holding Qing Feng in her arms, White Snow walked to a flat stone platform in front of the ranks and gently laid her down.
Qing Feng's eyelids stirred.
A ray of morning