The witch realm, Marble corridors rang with hurried footsteps.
"Sister!"
The chamber doors burst open and Feng Ruo stumbled inside, breathless, cheeks pale as moonlight. "You're still… doing embroidery? Do you not realize your life is about to be ruined?"
On the bed, a red-haired girl with molten-gold eyes paused mid-stitch. Draped in silken robes, Feng Ling's beauty was delicate, but her gaze carried a quiet, almost lazy confidence. Beside her, a maid froze, needle halfway through cloth.
Feng Ling tilted her head, unbothered. "Why is Ruoruo being so dramatic again? What happened this time?"
"You haven't heard?" Feng Ruo's voice cracked. "A Regional Demon Lord just arrived—he claims the Supreme Demon Emperor, Mo Tian himself, wants to marry you!"
The embroidery hoop slipped from Feng Ling's fingers, thudding against the bed. She shot upright. "What did you just say?"
"You've been locked away too long," Feng Ruo rushed on. "For weeks, the Demon Realm has been attacking outer villages—slaughtering people, claiming land. Our small Witch Kingdom can't fight them off. Today, a Demon Envoy declared a truce… but with one condition. You must marry their emperor."
Feng Ling didn't wait to hear more.
She was already running—down the corridors, past startled servants, silks billowing like fire—until the looming doors of the throne room came into view. She shoved them open with both hands.
Gasps rippled through the chamber.
Inside, the King and Queen stood with their son, all three cloaked in a tense, icy silence. The sunlight through the high windows felt cold, unable to warm the dread in the air.
"Her father's brow was furrowed deep enough to cast shadows over his eyes. Her mother, the Witch Queen, a striking beauty with midnight hair and sapphire eyes, fixed her with a sharp, measuring gaze."
"Feng Ling," the Queen said, voice cutting. "How many times have I told you—storming in like a wild child shames the royal line. You are a princess. Learn to act like one."
Feng Ling's golden eyes burned, the edges flaring red with barely restrained fury. "Mother," her voice trembled, "is it true? Am I to be married… to that ruthless monster?"
Her question cracked through the throne room like a whip.
Her father looked away, jaw clenched.
Her mother's expression softened. Stepping down from the dais, she took Feng Ling's hands gently in her own. "Xiao Ling… you are a princess. Sometimes, that means sacrificing—for your people."
Feng Ling's lips parted in disbelief.
"Our kingdom cannot stand against the demon army," the Queen continued, voice low. "We are small… they are endless. Already, three witch kingdoms have fallen to Mo Tian. If we resist, ours will be next. But if we agree to this marriage, we may buy peace."
"But Mother, I'm already engaged!" Feng Ling's voice cracked. "How can I be forced into another marriage?"
Tears spilled down her cheeks, hot against her cold skin.
The Queen's gaze wavered, pain flickering in her sapphire eyes. "Your father and I have annulled your engagement to Prince Bai. The decision is final."
Feng Ling's breath caught. "You… already broke it off?"
"The Regional Demon Lord has given us three days," the Queen said, her voice trembling despite her composure. "In three days, you will leave with them—and marry the Supreme Demon Emperor in the Demon Realm."
The words struck like a blade to the chest.
"I won't marry him!" Feng Ling cried, yanking her hands free. "I don't love him!"
"Ling'er!" her father called, but she was already gone—tears blurring her vision as she fled the throne room.
She didn't know where she was running. The marble halls gave way to winding paths, until towering trees surrounded her.
Is this still the palace… but she have never seen this forest before.
"Feng Ling collapsed against the trunk of an ancient tree, burying her face in her hands. For a moment, she let herself break—sobs wracking her body, the sound shattering the stillness around her."
Then—rustling.
She quickly wiped her eyes and stood, hoping it was her sister.
It wasn't.
A woman stood a few feet away, cloaked in white, her figure faintly glowing. Her hair shimmered gold as if kissed by starlight, but it was her eyes that froze Feng Ling in place—black and bottomless, swallowing all light, as if staring into an endless void.
Feng Ling's instincts flared. She raised her hand and murmured a sharp incantation—only for the spell to dissolve into nothing, vanishing like mist in the wind.
Her breath hitched. Why didn't it work?
She was born a witch, yet her powers were fragile—her training barely past the basics. She knew she couldn't truly defend herself, but she still lifted her chin, forcing her voice to stay steady.
"Who are you?" she demanded. "What do you want from me?"
The glowing woman only smiled, drifting forward with footsteps as light as falling snow.
Feng Ling tried to run—move, escape, anything—but her body refused to obey. It was as if invisible chains rooted her in place.
The woman stopped before her and took her hand with surprising gentleness. Her eyes, black and bottomless, softened—not with kindness, but with the weary weight of someone who had seen this moment countless times.
"You cannot run from fate any longer," she said, her voice calm yet carrying an unshakable power. "The prophecy is beginning."
Feng Ling's heart pounded. "What prophecy? What are you talking about?"
The woman's lips curved into a faint, bitter smile. "When the moon bleeds on the night of your eighteenth year, the seal will shatter. You are the key, Feng Ling. You always have been."
Feng Ling shook her head, confusion and fear tightening her chest. "I don't understand! What seal? What does this have to do with me?"
The woman's grip tightened, her gaze sharp yet shadowed with sorrow. "Do not let history repeat. If you fall for him again, if you make the same mistake as before—you will both die… and the rest of the world will burn with you."
A cold shiver raced down Feng Ling's spine.
"Wait—what do you mean?! Who are you?!" she cried, desperation clawing at her voice.
The woman stepped back, her body dissolving like smoke. "Remember my words, Feng Ling. You will stand at the crossroads of fate."
And then—she was gone.
Suddenly, the world around Feng Ling began to dissolve. The ground shifted beneath her feet. Her knees buckled, and everything went dark.
"It's already been two days. What are we going to do? Tomorrow is the deadline… If she doesn't wake up by then, we're all finished."
Feng Ling, weak and seemingly trapped in endless darkness, heard her parents' voices. She could recognize the worried tone of her mother, the Witch Queen, and the deep rumble of her father's voice.
But no matter how hard she tried, her eyes wouldn't open. Her limbs felt heavy. Powerless.
Why… can't she move? Why can't she wake up?
This was the first time in her life Feng Ling had felt truly powerless. Her thoughts slipped—unbidden—to the one man she wished could save her.
What will her ex fiancé do when he learns she's being married off to another? Will he rage? Will he fight to see her… or let her go?
A sudden blaze of white light burst before her, searing her vision. She flinched, eyes squeezing shut. When she opened them again, the world had shifted. Her family stood around her.
Her brother's jaw was tight, his knuckles white. Her sister's cheeks glistened with tear tracks.
"Xiao Ling…" Her sister's voice trembled as she helped her sit up. Her brother thrust a cup of water into her hands.
"Mother… what happened?" Feng Ling asked, her throat dry.
"You fainted in the garden," her mother, the Witch Queen, said, brushing stray strands of hair from her face. Her beauty was cold, her sapphire eyes sharp even in worry. "You must have overused your powers. Exhaustion caught you."
Feng Ling's fingers clenched around the cup. "No… I wasn't in the garden. I was in a strange forest. I met a woman—she spoke of a prophecy—and then… darkness."
Her parents exchanged a swift, telling glance. But when their gazes returned to her, their faces were unreadable.
"You must be mistaken," her father said evenly. "We found you in the garden. Your magic was pushed too far. That is all."
"But—"
"Hush, Xiao Ling." The Witch Queen said, her voice firm but gentle. "You need your strength. Tomorrow at dawn, you will leave with the Regional Demon Lord. The fate of our kingdom rests on your shoulders—remember to act with grace and wisdom."
She turned to the servants. "Bring something light for the princess to eat."
As her family quietly exited the room, Feng Ling felt a chill run down her spine. Was it truly just a dream? The memory of that eerie forest and the woman's strange words still lingered in her mind like a shadow.
Was it truly a dream… or something more?
After a few bites of food, drowsiness overcame her. Sleep claimed her swiftly.
By the time she awoke, sunlight spilled through her windows, painting gold across the polished floor. The air carried a sharp chill, and from outside came the muffled sounds of people moving.
A maidservant entered, bowing with a practiced smile. "Princess, it's time. The Regional Demon Lord has arrived. We must prepare for your journey to the Demon Realm."
Feng Ling's heart sank. No amount of tears or protests would change her fate—she was to be handed over to a ruthless Demon Emperor. For the sake of her people, she had no choice but to obey.
Dressed in an elegant jade-green robe, she was led from her chambers. At the palace gates, her family stood waiting—faces solemn, eyes heavy with resignation.
Beside them loomed strangers in dark, heavy robes. Their presence pressed against her chest like a weight, and the gleam of their blood-red eyes made her skin crawl.