Linyue studied the scroll again. Her eyes narrowed. "The handwriting is neat. Elegant, actually." She held the paper up. "Looks like a woman's."
Song Meiyu wrinkled her nose. "Who's crazy enough to do this kind of thing?"
He Yuying didn't miss a beat. "Master Yin Xue is a woman."
Prince Lu added helpfully. "Right. Doesn't she always ask for prisoners to test on?"
That earned him a sharp pinch from Song Meiyu and a punch to the arm for good measure. "Master Yin Xue doesn't do this kind of thing," Song Meiyu huffed. "Her experiments are for medicine. And poison. And sometimes… both. But at least her test subjects were criminals. Not innocent people!"
Prince Lu rubbed his arm, pouting. "I was just saying…"
Linyue gave a small nod. "She's terrifying, but she has standards."
"Unlike whoever wrote this garbage," He Yuying muttered darkly, nudging a scroll away with one finger.
Shen Zhenyu, rubbing at a faint bruise on his jaw from earlier, let out a quiet sigh. "Let's just find a way out first."
Everyone nodded. Yes. Excellent idea. No one wanted to stay in this underground nightmare a second longer than necessary. They were halfway to the door, relief starting to bloom, when Linyue suddenly stopped.
"I forgot my shoe," she said flatly.
The group froze. Slowly, four pairs of very tired, very traumatized eyes turned to her.
"The flying one," she added helpfully. "It's still in the dumping room."
There was a pause.
"It's probably cuddling with a dead body now."
Another pause.
Then she gave a small shrug. "Forget it. I don't want it anymore."
He Yuying nodded in approval. "Good. Less weight to carry when we're running for our lives."
Song Meiyu clapped her hands together weakly. "Rest in peace, little shoe. You were brave."
...
Shu Mingye raised his sword, fire spiritual energy crackling to life. With a swift slash, a wave of flame exploded forward. The air trembled, and the burning shockwave cut through the battlefield. Three enemy soldiers were flung into the air, their bodies scorched and slashed in a single, fiery motion.
Well, at least they weren't puppets, Shu Mingye thought grimly. That was something.
Over a hundred soldiers still stood on the enemy's side. On his, barely fifty. Boyi was in the remote courtyard, getting things ready. He was just stalling, waiting.
Then the spirit transmission jade hidden in his sleeve suddenly lit up, pulsing faintly. That was the signal. He didn't bother answering. Instead, he spoke just loud enough for his men to hear.
"Retreat."
No shouting. No drama. Just one word. His soldiers heard it and moved instantly, falling back in formation behind him.
The enemy erupted.
"CHASE THEM!" one captain howled, practically frothing at the mouth.
"DON'T LET HIM ESCAPE!" another bellowed, already running.
Dozens of enemy soldiers surged after them, yelling with bloodthirsty excitement. And at the center of it all, Shu Mingye walked. He limped slightly, dragging one foot just enough to look convincing. His shoulders sagged a little, his breathing uneven. To any watching eye, he was the perfect image of a commander at the end of his strength. It was bait. Obvious bait. But it worked anyway.
The enemy cheered in bloodthirsty triumph, convinced they were about to take down the infamous Demon King of Shulin.
"Faster!" someone shouted. "He's injured! We can catch him!"
Shu Mingye didn't look back. Behind his calm expression, the flames in his eyes were growing brighter, burning with barely restrained amusement.
"Straight for the courtyard," he murmured under his breath. A small, dangerous smile tugging at his lips.
He ducked under a volley of arrows, his robes snapping in the wind as he swerved left, then right. One leg dragged behind him in his flawless performance of a wounded man. He reached the edge of the remote courtyard, and with a single effortless bound, landed on the rooftop. His soldiers followed, climbing up the nearby walls and rooftops, lining up silently behind him.
Up here, the air was sharper, the wind was stronger. It whipped his hair into a mess, but he didn't care. He took a deep breath and remembered what Linyue had said this morning.
"The seeds won't grow into flowers if you water them," and then, "a little spark to grow into fireworks."
At the time, he had stared at her, convinced she was being cryptic again just to see his reaction. Now, it sounded oddly... specific. He had been puzzling over it all day. Seeds. Water. Spark. Then he made his own guess.
Fire blossom seeds. He vaguely remembered reading about them years ago. So, he ordered the water cultivator soldiers to soak the courtyard while he stalled the enemy. Now, the ground was drenched.
Right on time, the enemy soldiers stormed in. Their boots splashed in puddles as they charged, blades flashing, eyes full of bloodlust. They stopped when they spotted him standing calmly on the roof.
"You can't run anymore!" the enemy captain shouted, sword raised.
Shu Mingye just smiled. Calm. Slightly evil. Very him. He raised his hand and gathered fire spiritual energy in his palm. The red glow coiled eagerly around his fingers.
"Well then," he muttered, "let's see what she meant by little chaos."
He hurled the fire downward. It hit the wet ground with a sizzle.
The fire went out.
...And absolutely nothing happened.
The enemy captain raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "That's it?"
Below him, soldiers snorted. One even let out a short bark of laughter. Another muttered, "All that drama for a little steam?"
On the rooftop, Shu Mingye frowned. His jaw tightened as he muttered, "Was the fire… not enough?" He flexed his fingers, considering tossing a second, bigger fireball.
Suddenly, a deep, hungry rumble crawled up from the earth. It wasn't loud at first. Just a faint vibration that curled around their boots.
The soldiers stopped laughing. One looked down at his feet. "...Did the ground just growl at me?"
The courtyard twitched. Once. A little shiver, almost delicate. Then it bucked. The earth rippled, stones cracking under invisible pressure. Puddles boiled with sudden, furious heat, sending up little clouds of steam that clung to the soldiers' legs.
"What the—" the captain began.
He didn't get to finish. The rumble grew into a roar, low and monstrous. It echoed up the walls, rattled in their chests, and set their teeth buzzing.
"What's that?!" a soldier screamed, voice cracking.
Too late.
BOOM.
The ground split open with a howl and vomited fire and dirt straight into the sky. A geyser of flame and soil erupted, swallowing three soldiers in an instant. The blast knocked others into the air. Dirt hardened into knives, the wind itself turned to fists, slamming soldiers sideways. Stones sizzled into slag, and anything not nailed down took flight including, unfortunately, limbs.
Some screamed. Some didn't even get the chance.
On the rooftop, Shu Mingye froze for a full heartbeat, eyes wide, watching the scene below as another BOOM rattled the roof under his boots.
"This…" he muttered, voice caught between awe and horror, "this is what she called little?"
The courtyard exploded again, louder this time, sending a flaming wheel of some poor man's helmet spinning past Shu Mingye's head.
"It looks more like a volcano than fireworks," he rubbed his temple.
Behind him, one of his soldiers peeked over the roof's edge and whispered hoarsely, "Lord… the courtyard… uh… gone."
From a rooftop further back, Boyi's voice rang out, high-pitched with panic. "LORD! THIS WAS YOUR PLAN?!"
Shu Mingye raised one eyebrow, trying (and failing) to look as calm as usual. "It worked, didn't it?" But under his breath, his voice was tight. "It wasn't even my plan…" He definitely didn't feel calm.
Another geyser of fire ripped through the ground below, spewing molten dirt. Soldiers scattered in screaming disarray. A half-melted spear flew end over end, embedding itself into a nearby wall.
"How many seeds did they plant that it grew into a volcano?" Shu Mingye muttered, more to himself than anyone else. He squinted at the blaze below, heat licking his boots even from the rooftop. If this was watering the garden, he was deeply concerned about what harvest time might look like.
Boyi scrambled to his side. "Lord," he gasped. "Is this… the princess's idea? This used to be her courtyard, right? I knew she was a bit…"
"Quiet," Shu Mingye snapped, though the twitch in his jaw betrayed the effort it took to sound calm. He straightened his robes despite the fiery chaos below, his voice cool and measured. "Let's… call it aggressive landscaping."
BOOM.
Another explosion ripped through what remained of the courtyard, flinging a charred wooden beam past Boyi's head.
"AGGRESSIVE?!" Boyi shrieked, ducking as sparks rained down. "IT'S A BLOODY VOLCANO!"
Shu Mingye watched the scene below, his expression unreadable except for the faint crease between his brows. "Well," he murmured dryly, "at least the weeds are gone."
Boyi gawked at him. "WEEDS? THERE'S NO COURTYARD LEFT TO HAVE WEEDS!"
Shu Mingye gave no reply. Mostly because at that moment, a fourth eruption tore through the enemy line. One unfortunate soul spun in the air three times before disappearing into the blaze with a sound suspiciously like a squeak.
Boyi tugged at his sleeve, eyes wide with terror. "Lord… should we run? Or… or build an ark?"
Shu Mingye exhaled slowly. "Neither."
A pause.
"Let's just call it… pruning."