The sun crept gently over the eastern hills, casting golden light on the quiet village of Qingshui. The scent of grilled millet cakes, roasted roots, and sweet hawthorn sour soup filled the small stone courtyard.
At the round table beneath the peach tree, Lin Yuan quietly ate alongside his little half-brother Xiao Hu, who giggled between bites, face already sticky with syrup. Opposite them sat Lady Mingyan, his second mother.
Lin Yuan didn't look at her directly, not because he was afraid, but because something about her presence demanded reverence. She was too graceful, too powerful, too otherworldly. Her voice carried the weight of command and the warmth of hearthfire. Even in silence, she exuded a subtle force that made the hairs on his neck stand when she passed too close.
He caught a glimpse of her from the corner of his eye—long midnight hair cascading down like a waterfall, the faint shimmer of tiger-gold markings on her skin when sunlight hit just right, and the subtle curve of her silhouette beneath her white and crimson robes. She didn't need to speak to be noticed—her presence was like the moon: distant, beautiful, and constant.
Even Xiao Hu, wild as he was, instinctively settled when Mingyan spoke.
After eating, Lin Yuan started thinking about his dream. Suddenly—
"Xiao Hu, how many times have I told you not to bite me?"
"You smell weird today!" the cub pouted, clinging to Lin Yuan's leg.
"He's... going through changes," she said knowingly, eyes flicking to Lin Yuan, who blushed instantly.
She arched an eyebrow. "Hmm. You had your first dream, didn't you?"
Lin Yuan stiffened. "Y-you can tell?"
"Of course. The moment I smelled your qi this morning, it was obvious. You're leaking yang essence like a cracked furnace."
Her words made his face burn with embarrassment.
She stepped closer, circling him like a predator sizing up prey—yet her gaze wasn't cruel. It was curious. Amused.
"Do you know what dreams like that mean in demon clans?" she asked.
"Um... that I'm growing up?"
She chuckled, her voice husky like purring. "Yes, but more than that. Certain dreams are a sign your soul is beginning to open to the dream realms. You might be haunted—not by ghosts, but by deeper truths."
Lin Yuan blinked. "Haunted...?"
"Dreams are the first battlefield of a cultivator's heart," she said, pressing a finger to his chest. "If you don't learn to guard it, desires and spirits alike will slip in. Let me show you how to hunt them."
"Hunt them?"
"Hunt them. In our clan, we call it Soul Pursuit Art—the ability to chase dreams, bind desires, and tame spirit illusions."
The little tiger cub perked up. "Mama taught me how to dream-bite a fox spirit!?"
"You bit my leg..." Lin Yuan muttered.
"Wrong target," the tigress said with a shrug. "But it was a fine bite."
She flicked his forehead with a nail.
"Now come. It's time someone taught you how to keep your spirit clean before you get swallowed by it."
"I am ready, mother."
"Go wait by the training ground. I will join you shortly."
The training ring was hidden within a grove of whispering trees. An old platform of rune and moss-covered stone, circled by spirit lanterns flickering with faint blue light. Lin Yuan stood near the edge, steadying his breath. When he heard the soft pad of boots on moss, he didn't look up—but he felt her presence, like a breeze layered in silver.
"Sit across from me," she said. "Close your eyes. Breathe slowly."
They sat in silence, the mist curling around them like strands of dream.
"Tell me about the dream."
"It was strange," Lin Yuan said quietly. "A girl with a veil... reaching for me. But a shadow stood behind her, like things I don't want to see."
"Desire and fear often share the same mask," Mingyan replied. "To master haunting, you must name the shape your emotions take—or be ruled by them."
As she spoke, the runes beneath them flared faintly.
Suddenly, Lin Yuan's breath hitched. A chill crept down his spine. He felt something—not seen, but felt—press against him like an invisible gaze from within.
"I can't move..."
"Stay still," Mingyan's voice came like an anchor. "It's a memory echo. Don't flee. Recognize it."
His heart pounded.
"It's me... the part of me that's afraid of being weak..."
"Speak it aloud," she urged gently.
"I... don't want to be useless."
The pressure lifted.
He gasped, collapsing slightly as sweat trickled down his back.
Mingyan moved closer and knelt beside him. Her clawed fingers, surprisingly warm and gentle, wiped his brow with a soft cloth. She said nothing at first—just letting him breathe.
"You did well," she said finally, voice low and kind. "Most boys your age would have run from that vision. You stood your ground."
"I was scared," he admitted quietly.
She cupped his cheek softly, golden eyes shimmering like warm amber.
"Courage is not the absence of fear, Yuan'er. It is facing fear even when your legs tremble."
He closed his eyes, leaning slightly into her touch—not out of dependence but from the rare comfort of being understood.
"Rest today. Tomorrow we'll go deeper."
He nodded.