As they explored the far reaches of that place of death and ruin,
the ground gave way beneath their feet with a sharp, cracking snap. It wasn’t a trap, nor a creature. It was the earth itself, eroded by years of bone storms, collapsing suddenly, opening into a deep fissure tangled with black roots and poisonous vapors.
Zhu Xian fell without a sound. His hand shot out—too late.
The last thing he saw was Yun Yun’s face.
Then… darkness. Then… pressure.
His body was wedged between two stone slabs. Not enough to kill him, but enough to trap him. No Dou Qi. No external strength. Only his body. And the rock… was devouring him. Not by weight, but by something subtler:
It was as though the fissure was feeding on his soul.
He felt a pull in his chest. A soft pressure, like a whisper turning into a blade.
The Gate… wasn’t just a proving ground.
It was a predator of consciousness.
Zhu Xian tried to move his leg. Pain. He moved his arm. Only his wrist obeyed.
He took a deep breath.
Closed his eyes.
If this is a soul trap… the only thing that can save me… is another soul.
But he didn’t call out. Didn’t shout.
He just thought: She will know.
Yun Yun
Zhu Xian vanished.
The air swallowed him. No sound. Only emptiness.
Yun Yun jumped without hesitation.
She plunged into the open fissure, wrapping her sleeve over her face. The stench rising from below was… the rot of souls. Subtle but dense. Like the echo of a thousand dead thoughts lingering in the depths.
She descended without rope, without technique, using the hardened roots along the walls as footholds.
And then… she saw him.
Zhu Xian was trapped between two slabs. He wasn’t bleeding, but his skin trembled.
And worse—his eyes were open… but empty.
Something clenched tight in her chest.
No… not after everything we’ve survived. Not now.
She dropped the last two meters, landing beside him.
Pressed both hands against his chest.
She felt it immediately — the pull. His soul was being drained. Slowly. Silently.
—Zhu Xian! —she called.
Nothing.
She shut her eyes and pressed her forehead to his.
If your soul is being devoured… then lend me a thread. Just one thread.
She released her spiritual energy — not as an attack, but as a bridge.
It was dangerous. Reckless.
But Yun Yun was no longer a disciple of a sect.
Not here.
Here… she was just a woman who couldn’t bear the thought of losing him.
Zhu Xian
He felt something.
A vibration. Soft. Feminine. Precise.
Like a scent… without fragrance. Like a word… without sound.
Come.
She didn’t say it. But he heard it.
He opened his eyes.
And saw her. So close. Forehead to forehead. Their souls intertwined.
The rock trembled.
A groan rumbled through the stone, and then… the weight shattered.
The slabs gave way.
And both of them fell, deeper into the abyss. But this time, together.
They tumbled through the sludge, landing in a narrow natural chamber.
Zhu Xian groaned. His entire body ached. Yun Yun panted, her face slick with sweat.
He looked at her.
She didn’t let him speak.
She only whispered:
—Never get lost without me again.
He smiled. For the second time in his life.
—Never again… without you.
They didn’t embrace.
But that night, when they found a narrow crevice to shield themselves from the black wind, she lay against his chest.
She didn’t ask permission.
And he didn’t need her to.
Because now… they were no longer two survivors.
They were one soul, split into two bodies… in a hell with no way out.