Luo Youwei's voice, though faint and restrained, still slipped through the gentle night air like a thread of sorrow, carried by the breeze.
Luo Changfeng, seated in quiet meditation within his own courtyard, opened his eyes slowly.
Though the sound was barely more than a whisper, it tugged at the edges of his awareness like the flicker of a candle in the dark.
Following the source of the voice, he made his way silently to a secluded area of the compound.
There, outside a modest room dimly lit by moonlight, stood Luo Ping — the current patriarch of the Luo Family — his posture tense, eyes downcast, a deep guilt etched across his weathered face.
Luo Chuan, the Luo Family's young master, stood beside his father with a quiet sigh. His usual composure was laced with helplessness.
This room…
If Luo Changfeng's memory served him correctly, it belonged to Luo Ping's cherished daughter, Luo Youwei.
Especially on nights like this — full moon nights — the girl would suffer agony beyond ordinary endurance.
And tonight, the moon hung full and bright in the sky.
"Patriarch Changfeng, you… why have you come?"
Luo Ping was visibly startled to see the Luo Family's ancestral pillar standing silently nearby. The weight of shame pressed his shoulders lower. He instinctively stepped aside, his voice hushed, deferential.
Luo Chuan also bowed slightly. "Patriarch Changfeng."
"How is little Youwei?" Luo Changfeng asked, hands clasped behind his back as he gazed at the closed door. His voice, tinged with the calm weariness of old age, carried a quiet gravity.
Luo Ping struggled to respond. "The clan's physicians say that if nothing unexpected occurs…"
His voice faltered, rough with emotion. "She may not survive… the next full moon night."
Those words hung in the air like a death knell.
Luo Changfeng's gaze deepened, his once-clouded eyes reflecting the pale moonlight. Ripples of sorrow stirred within them.
In his mind's eye, the image of a bright-eyed, spirited little girl emerged — Youwei, tailing after him like a shadow in her younger years. She would cling to his sleeves, calling him "Elder Changfeng" in that sweet, childish voice full of reverence and trust.
A silence stretched, filled only by the quiet rustling of leaves.
"Let's go in and see her," Luo Changfeng said at last, his tone subdued but resolute.
He stepped forward.
At first, he felt nothing unusual — but the closer he got to the room, the sharper the sensation became.
A biting chill radiated outward, not just physical, but spiritual, as though it sought to sink into bone and soul.
Inside, Luo Youwei lay on a bed layered with thick blankets, her delicate figure barely a rise beneath them.
Her skin was nearly translucent, the color drained from her lips, yet her eyes still held a glimmer of clarity and gentleness.
"Daddy… Brother… and… Patriarch Changfeng…"
Her soft voice floated to them as they entered. She lifted her gaze, and upon seeing the elder she had once followed with such admiration, a dazzling smile lit up her fragile features.
It was a smile that defied her wretched state — both bitter and brilliant.
She made an effort to sit up, her slender arms trembling as she braced herself, clearly wanting to greet them properly, to speak, to laugh.
But her body betrayed her.
"Youwei, don't force yourself," Luo Ping said gently, rushing to her side. His heart clenched at the sight of her struggling, her face ghostly pale, her breath shallow.
"Just lie down, stay still — that's enough."
"Daddy…" Youwei's voice trembled. She looked up at him, pain and resignation mingling in her eyes. "Is Youwei… really not going to make it?"
She didn't wail. She didn't cry.
Instead, her question came softly, with a maturity that only those who had faced death could possess.
"Don't say things like that," Luo Ping said, but even he couldn't hide the tremor in his voice. "You'll be alright… Youwei will definitely be alright."
But his eyes didn't meet hers.
"Brother?" she turned her gaze to Luo Chuan instead.
The young master hesitated. He averted his gaze, unable to meet the look in his sister's eyes — eyes that pleaded not for comfort, but for truth.
A beat of silence passed.
"Actually… Youwei understands," she whispered, a trace of a bitter smile playing on her lips. "The physicians don't say anything, but… I can feel it. Every time the full moon comes… it gets worse."
She turned then, looking toward Luo Changfeng, her gaze gentle but piercing.
"Elder Changfeng… Am I really going to die?"
The words were soft, but they hit like thunder.
Her eyes — so familiar, so full of trust — were like a mirror reflecting her fragility and strength. In them was a pleading, not for comfort, but for truth. For dignity.
Luo Changfeng, who had weathered centuries of life and death, felt his heart tighten.
The young girl before him looked so much like she had in those early days — clumsy steps chasing after him, laughter bubbling as she asked him to tell her stories of the past.
And now she was asking him to tell her if she had a future.
He sighed quietly. "The family doctors say… if nothing changes…"
His voice trailed off, heavy with unsaid words.
Even so, the clever girl understood.
"So I'll still be alive… at the next full moon?" she murmured with a faint smile.
"That's… something."
Her smile was not one of joy, but of quiet acceptance.
"Thank you, Elder Changfeng. Thank you… for not lying to me."
Her voice was so sincere it made even Luo Ping's eyes sting.
…
The three men remained by Luo Youwei's bedside for some time, quietly talking, simply keeping her company.
But eventually, the night wore on, and they left her room.
Outside, the chill in the air felt even heavier.
"Patriarch Changfeng…" Luo Ping finally broke the silence. He stood stiffly behind the elder, his tone barely above a whisper. "Is there really… no way to save her?"
His eyes pleaded for hope.
This world — this continent — was vast and filled with wonders. Legends spoke of miracle pills that could regenerate flesh, revive the dead, cleanse the marrow, and reshape bones.
And if anyone in the Luo Family could reach such miraculous solutions…
It could only be the man before him.
Luo Changfeng didn't answer immediately.
He stared ahead, his expression unreadable. "I don't know."
Luo Ping's heart sank.
But then, after a moment's pause, Luo Changfeng added slowly, "However… if we only want to preserve her life temporarily…"
"It is not entirely impossible."
Luo Ping's head snapped up, his voice urgent. "What do you mean, Patriarch?"
But Luo Changfeng simply clasped his hands behind his back and walked off, his back straight despite his age.
He did not answer.
…
Returning to his secluded courtyard, Luo Changfeng entered the stone pavilion in the center and sat down silently.
The moonlight spilled across the stone tiles like a sheet of frost.
He closed his eyes, deep in thought.
Luo Youwei's condition was unlike anything he had encountered before.
Over his long life, he had read about rare and extraordinary physiques — some that drew heavenly lightning, some born with flames, others with bodies that could resonate with spiritual veins.
He had even heard of cursed constitutions, where cultivation would drain one's life, or where a hidden bloodline would activate under certain celestial conditions.
But Luo Youwei…
Every full moon, the icy energy in her body would surge, cold enough to freeze blood and soul. It was no ordinary illness. No normal constitution.
It was a mystery wrapped in danger — and promise.
In fact, Luo Changfeng was increasingly certain…
This was a unique constitution.
It was just that, as with many rare physiques, it came at a steep price in the early stages of life.
A dormant power, perhaps — one yet untapped.
And if that were the case…
If they could unlock it…
Then Luo Youwei might not only survive.
She might become one of the greatest cultivators the Luo Family had ever known.
A frosted phoenix.
But there was no time.
Only thirty days — one month until the next full moon.
One month to discover the truth.
One month to find a solution.
Luo Changfeng opened his eyes slowly, a quiet flame lighting within them.
He would not let her die.
Not without trying everything.