He let out a long breath.
The flush on his face gradually faded.
As the flames receded, Xu Zimo's eyes shone like blazing torches.
"Zhu Rong's Art truly is domineering," Xu Zimo muttered to himself.
When he exhaled, a stream of white vapor followed his eight extraordinary meridians and flowed out of his mouth.
When he looked up again, the sky outside had already brightened.
Xu Zimo rose from the bed and opened the door. The flame tree was still burning endlessly.
Yet someone was seated in the courtyard at some unknown time.
The young man sat beneath the pavilion, holding a black piece in his right hand and a white piece in his left, playing chess against himself.
"Good morning, brother," the young man said with a smile.
"Morning," Xu Zimo replied calmly with a yawn.
"Brother, care for a game?" the young man asked, extending a hand.
Xu Zimo smiled and sat down beside him.
"Chess is like life. Brother, you first," the young man said.
"The white pieces are like flood dragons. Dragons soar through the heavens, serpents crawl upon the earth." Xu Zimo moved a white piece forward, placing it within the grid.
"The black pieces circle behind. Serpents can swallow dragons as well." The young man made another move.
"The human heart is never satisfied; a serpent seeks to swallow an elephant. Even the elephant knows no better, let alone a dragon?"
"If a serpent cultivates for ten thousand years, becoming a python, then a dragon, what is impossible about that?"
The two spoke faster and faster, while the black and white pieces in their hands fell ever more swiftly.
Before long, the entire board was filled with pieces.
Xu Zimo picked up another piece and placed it in the center of the main palace.