Back in the kingdom of Lianhua, dark clouds covered the skies, making the night extremely cold. It was midnight, and every soul was deeply asleep.
Leng Yue lay peacefully in his room, his chest rising and falling gently, making him look serene and beautiful. But soon, his soul began to drift from his body, even as he tried to resist.
"Not again…" he murmured in his sleep, though his body remained still. It was as if some irresistible force was pulling him away, his legs moving as though they had a mind of their own.
The pull led him to a place he had never seen before. Farmers filled the streets—buying, selling, drinking, and dancing. The air was full of chatter and laughter, but something about the place felt strange. It looked old, like he had been dragged years into the past.
Suddenly, the sound of hooves thundered through the village. Men in uniforms stormed in, mounted on horses. Their leader, a tall man with black scorpion tattoos across his body, roared above the chaos.
"Find him! Find the one with the strength of ten men! If you cannot, then kill every young man in this village!"
Panic spread like wildfire. Villagers scattered, mothers clutched their children, and the once joyful night descended into screams and blood. Leng Yue walked among them like a spirit unseen, helpless to change what was happening.
Drawn by the same mysterious force, Leng Yue's steps carried him down a narrow path. There, he found a young man clutching a little girl of about three years old. The man's face was torn between fear and determination as he searched for what to do.
At last, his eyes fell on a wooden cart used to transport farm goods. He set the little girl gently inside.
"Wait for me here, Mei Xia," he whispered, kissing her forehead. "I'll be back with your mother."
Then, with one last look, he covered her carefully so no one would see her and ran back toward the burning village.
Time passed—ten minutes, twenty, thirty—and still, he did not return. The little girl's frightened cries pierced the silence. Hungry and cold, she wept until her tiny voice weakened and she stopped crying.
Later, the traders—the owners of that same cart—returned, unaware of the child hidden beneath the covering. They set out for Lianhua with their goods, never realizing she was there.
Days Later, inside Lianhua's palace yard, they began to unload. As they pulled back the coverings and lifted the sacks, they froze in horror: a little girl lay bundled beneath the goods, her skin cold, her breathing faint. Beside her was a half eaten apple.
"Who is this little girl?" one of them whispered.
They touched her tiny hands—ice cold, her breaths shallow. Fear rippled among them, but pity quickly followed.
"She must have wandered here from another kingdom," a man said. " And If we try to search for her parents now, she will not survive the journey. She may not even live until morning."
Drawn by the commotion at the palace storehouse, the chief maid of the Lianhua palace arrived. After listening to the traders' account, she looked down at the weak child. Pity and love stirred in her heart.
"Give her to me," she said softly. "I will take care of her."
She carried the child home and immediately sought the help of a herbal healer. The cold had already entered deep into the little girl's lungs, leaving her frail even after recovery. The chief maid made sure the little girl ate well.
When the girl finally grew strong enough to speak, the maid asked her name. But the child only blinked at her with wide eyes, silent.
The woman studied the girl's delicate face and whispered, "You are beautiful like a lotus. I'll call you Mei Lian. Mei, for short."
From then on, she raised the girl as her own, protecting her carefully. She provided anything the little girl wanted and with time, Mei grew fond of her. By the time Mei was seven, she had begun to follow her mother into the palace to help with light chores.
At that time, Yue Leng was nine years old, while Yuyan was thirteen.
Bored and lonely without sisters or friends her age, Yuyan quickly grew fond of Mei. She begged her father to make Mei her personal maid, saying how much she loved her company. Seeing the closeness between the two girls, her father agreed, thinking perhaps Mei could serve as a sister figure to Yuyan.
Now, Leng Yue realized the little girl was Mei—Yuyan's best friend and personal maid. His heart pounded in shock.
So this was how she got to Lianhua.
He wandered through the palace until he reached Mei's chamber. There she lay, sleeping peacefully, her beauty softened by her helplessness. She looked so fragile that his heart ached. He watched as her chest rose and fell tenderly.
Quietly, he brushed a strand of hair from her face.
"Don't worry… I'll find your father," he whispered with a faint smile.
For a moment, he simply stood there, watching her sleep. A strange tenderness filled his chest. But suddenly, the Witch Queen's warning echoed sharply in his mind:
"Do not linger too long in your dream world. If you do, you may never return. You will die there."
Startled, Yue Leng quickly turned and hurried out of the room.
In the next moment, his soul rushed back into his body. With a jolt, he woke, gasping for air, the dream still vivid in his mind.
A few minutes after he woke up, he was still sitting on his bed, thinking. He never knew that Mei had such a bad and terrible experience. He couldn't stop thinking of how helpless she looked.
Her father was actually the man gifted with the strength of ten. That was the reason why the black scorpion's army had attacked her village.
"If he's alive, I have to find him," he muttered to himself.
He then stood up, picked up his robe, and went out of his room.