The wind in Gui Ling always carried a damp, moldy stench, like the decayed, desolate courtyard from a distant memory.
But tonight's wind was different—laced with a faint sweetness, like the plum-blossom rains of the Jiangnan in misty spring.
Chi Su paused mid-step, looking toward the girl concealed in the trees—only to accidentally meet a pair of watery eyes.
They were large, clear apricot eyes, fringed with long lashes, black and white in perfect contrast. The corners tilted slightly upward, shimmering like the rippling surface of an autumn lake.
When that lake-like gaze wandered over him, it brimmed with unabashed wonder.
Chi Su's fingers rested lightly on the soft sword coiled at his waist.
He loathed this kind of look—uninvited, invasive, making his skin crawl.
The last person who looked at him that way… he killed.
But that person's eyes hadn't been this beautiful.
Eyes like these… he'd seen them somewhere before.
Should he kill her?
Chi Su hesitated.
After his master's death, too many had set their sights on him; killing was the only way he knew to keep himself safe. Even if the target was a woman or a child, he'd never hesitated before.
And yet… though her gaze was far too blatant, he couldn't sense a shred of killing intent from her.
That was… unexpected.
Chi Su's lips curved slowly as he drew the soft sword from his waist.
If the eyes are so beautiful—then he'd just dig them out.
Luna had imagined countless scenarios for her first meeting with Chi Su. The first half of this one, she could handle. But this sudden shift in tone? What the hell?
Tianyu shot into the air, and Luna raised it across her chest.
Almost immediately, she sensed movement around them.
Chi Su dropped lightly to the ground, his gaze gliding over Luna's face before settling into the surrounding darkness.
He didn't strike—not because he'd decided to spare her, but because something more dangerous had caught his attention.
The wind in Gui Ling had shifted.
From the darkness, coils of black mist surged upward.
Figures in light armor emerged from the mist—black-clad, their identities unknown. Their eyes locked on the young man in the clearing, gleaming with a hunter's madness and an obscure, feverish delight.
At their head stood a hawk-faced man, his predatory eyes gleaming with cold light, a long scar slashing across his face.
"Found you." He licked his lips, drawing the blade from his waist. "Little beast—where do you think you can run?"
In the night, the boy's cold gaze seemed to hold the depth of the stars.
Though his eyes were clear and luminous, his expression was as still as dead water—no ripples, no warmth, unfathomable.
The wind stirred his blood-stained robes, carrying with it a faint, unusual fragrance.
The hawk-eyed man inhaled deeply, his stare sharpening with greed.
A perfect furnace vessel. An unmatched beauty. A scent that intoxicated the senses. Blood like an aphrodisiac. It was said that a single drop of heart's blood from the Moon Demon Clan could forge an elixir of immortality…
The others laughed crudely, tossing out vulgar comments. Pairs of eyes glittered in the shadows, their owners suppressing the same ravenous hunger—like starving hawks sighting bloodied prey.
If looks could consume flesh, they'd have devoured the boy already.
"Little beast," the hawk-eyed man tapped the flat of his blade against his palm, smiling coldly.
"Your Moon Demon Clan has long been extinct. Come quietly and serve your master well, and you'll live in comfort for the rest of your days."
Born as natural furnace vessels, the Moon Demons had been hunted to extinction two centuries ago. Most thought them only a myth—until one appeared before them tonight, a gift straight from the heavens.
"The old monk is dead. Soon the entire cultivation world will know your secret. Without a master's protection, where do you think you can run?"
Thinking of the blood-soaked carnage at the Ling Shan Assembly, the hawk-eyed man's excitement made his eyes bloodshot.
"Yes," the boy tilted his head, long lashes lowering in a slow blink. "Where could I run?"
Chi Su looked no older than sixteen or seventeen, his features not yet fully sharpened, his voice soft to the point of impossibility. The upward lilt at the end of his words rippled like spring blossoms and autumn moonlight across a still lake, tugging at the hearts of those who heard it.
If he could charm like this at such a young age, what chaos would he wreak upon the world when grown—and armed with a face of devastating beauty?
Fortunately, the monks of Fanyin Temple had willingly sold the boy's whereabouts to him. Unfortunately, they'd been incompetent enough to almost let him escape.
Thinking of the power behind his own master, the hawk-eyed man's throat worked. Wealth beyond measure was within his grasp.
He stepped forward, closing the distance with each step, forcing the boy back.
Moonlight poured like water. Mist thinned to a sheer veil around the boy's slender figure.
Beauty like a blossom beyond the clouds. The hawk-eyed man's gaze grew more naked.
"Little beast, I won't rest until I have you."
"Won't rest?" the boy echoed with a faint smile, curling his fingers. "Then I'll just kill you all."
The final whisper was soft as drifting ash, but Luna heard it clearly.
According to the book's plot, Chi Su was now at the brink of darkness. Tonight, he would be driven into the Ghost Realm, where he'd strike a bargain with the Nether Lord and draw the Sword of Slaughter.
Her mission was to stop him from entering the Ghost Realm.
But to win his favor, she couldn't just sit back and watch.
Given that he'd already tried to kill her for glancing at him, Luna decided she should let him suffer a little first.
The hawk-eyed man also caught his words. A heavy killing aura settled over him as he barked the order:
"Move! Take him alive!"
His men surged forward, their strikes vicious, forming a tight ring around Chi Su.
Blades flashed against crumbling tombstones, scattering lesser spirits. The blood mist churned apart, revealing a gap in the Ghost Realm's barrier.
Though outnumbered, Chi Su fought without yielding, cutting down enemies one after another.
Blood from the black-clad men splattered his face. A slash opened his arm, blood flowing down his sleeve until his hand was drenched.
He frowned, staggering back a few steps, gaze falling to the fresh wound.
At the same time, the demon blood in his veins, agitated by the poison, began to boil.
The hawk-eyed man sensed his chance. Raising a hand, he gave a curt signal.
"Form the net."
They had come prepared—silken threads unfurled into a deadly web.
"Still strong, little beast?" the hawk-eyed man sneered. "How's the poison feel—"
Before he could finish, something streaked through the air toward him. His face hardened as he caught it mid-flight, crushing it to powder.
He glanced at the gray-brown dust in his palm—a shattered skull—and snarled, "Who's there?"
A low chuckle echoed from the darkness.
He turned toward the sound—and saw, in the moon-dim haze, a slender figure perched atop a tombstone.
Night vision was no obstacle for him. The moment he saw her clearly, he froze.
A girl.
A black-haired beauty, her long tresses flowing like a waterfall, her white dress billowing in the night breeze.
And yet… when he'd faced off with Chi Su earlier, he hadn't noticed her at all.
"Bullying a child—what kind of hero is that?"
The girl leveled her sword before her, sword intent flaring, whipping her hair into a dance in the night.
"Come. Fight me."
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