Chapter 232 - Echoes from Kyoto

The warehouse on Beijing's north edge stood quiet under the midday sun, its rusted walls a battered refuge after the core bunker's collapse. Feng Ruoxi sat beside a cot, her dark hair tangled with sweat and Yukang's blood, the phoenix tattoo on her wrist glowing faintly, its whisper—"The fire rises…"—a soft hum in her veins. Her chest ached from old wounds, her fire simmering low, but her eyes burned with a resolve tempered by loss—Xingxing gone, Tianhua dead, Yukang barely clinging to life. The air smelled of antiseptic and steel, eleven rescued children huddled in a corner, their frail forms watched by Jiang Bin's steady gaze.