They made it exactly one li before Lianyin's legs gave out.
"Sorry," she gasped, clutching a tree for support. "Just... need a moment..."
Yunhao caught her before she hit the ground, his chains cold against her skin. Through their new bond, she felt his spike of concern mixed with frustration. They both knew they didn't have moments to spare.
"There's a cave," he said quietly. "Hidden. About fifty steps north."
"How do you—"
"I've been in that cage for three months. You learn to memorize every shadow, every sound." His smile was bitter. "Every possible escape route you can't take."
Mochi had already bounded ahead, disappearing into what looked like solid rock face. Following the cub's path, Lianyin spotted the illusion, a cultivation formation worn thin by time, revealing the cave mouth beneath.
Inside was darkness so complete it felt solid. Yunhao guided her to a natural ledge, his night vision apparently better than hers. Or maybe it was the bond, letting him share his senses. She couldn't tell where she ended and he began anymore.
"We can't stay long," he warned, but he was already checking her injuries with careful hands. "Your feet..."
"Are the least of our problems." She hissed as he peeled away a strip of torn fabric stuck to dried blood. "The Celestial Dawn Sect won't stop. Not now that they know you're free too."
Speaking of problems, the Demon King interjected, you're about to have another one.
"What now?" Lianyin muttered.
Yunhao frowned. "What?"
"Not you. The annoying voice in my head."
"Ah." He nodded like that was perfectly normal. "What's he saying?"
That you're bleeding demonic energy all over this cave, and the local spirits are getting hungry.
As if on cue, the temperature dropped. Frost spread across the cave walls in spiraling patterns, and Lianyin's breath came out in visible puffs. In the darkness, things began to move. Not quite shadows, not quite light. The spirits of the dead, drawn by the scent of demon-touched blood.
"Don't move," Yunhao whispered, but it was too late.
The first spirit lunged, a writhing mass of hunger and old grief. Lianyin threw up her hands instinctively, shadows erupting in a protective barrier. The spirit hit it and... merged.
Pain exploded through her skull as foreign memories flooded in. A young woman, barely older than herself. Dancing in a field of wildflowers. A wedding dress stained with blood. Bandits laughing as they—
Lianyin screamed.
More spirits rushed forward, drawn by her anguish like moths to flame. Each one that touched her shadows forced its memories into her mind. A merchant poisoned by his brother. A child lost in winter snow. A soldier dying alone on a battlefield, calling for his mother.
Devour them, the Demon King commanded. Take their memories, their power, their essence. This is the gift I give you—the ability to grow strong from death itself.
"I don't want it!" But her shadows were already moving without her permission, pulling the spirits in, breaking them down into raw energy. Their memories became hers. Their skills, their knowledge, their final moments—all of it poured into her soul like acid.
She knew how to wield a merchant's abacus as a weapon now. Could feel the weight of a soldier's spear in hands that had never held one. Understood seventeen different ways to tie a wedding dress and forty-three ways to die badly.
"Lianyin!" Yunhao's voice seemed very far away. "Lianyin, you need to stop"
Why stop? The Demon King laughed as more spirits crowded in. Look how much stronger you're becoming. Each death feeds you. Each memory makes you more than what you were.
It was true. She could feel the power building, her cultivation base expanding far beyond what a seventeen-year-old orphan should possess. But with each devoured spirit, she lost something too. The memory of her own first steps grew fuzzy, replaced by a soldier's march. Her favorite lullaby faded, overwritten by a merchant's accounting songs.
"I'm disappearing," she whispered.
Yunhao's chains shattered.
The sound rang through the cave like a bell, and suddenly he was there, pulling her against his chest, his own power wrapping around them both like a shield. Not demonic energy, something else. Something that made the spirits recoil.
"Look at me." His hands framed her face, forcing her to meet his storm-grey eyes. "You are Mo Lianyin. You are seventeen years old. You survived the orphanage fire. You freed me from that cage. You are not these memories. You are not these deaths."
"But I can see them all—"
"Then see this too." He pressed his forehead to hers, and through their bond, he shared his own memories. The weight of a prince's crown. The sound of his mother's laughter before she revealed her true nature. The moment he chose mercy over duty and was caged for it. "We are more than our worst moments. More than what others make us."
The spirits circled them, hungry but wary. Mochi sat at the cave entrance, tail swishing, watching with too-intelligent eyes.
How touching, the Demon King drawled. But you can't hide from your nature forever, little lotus. Those spirits are just the beginning. Every death you encounter, every drop of spilled blood—it will call to you. And eventually, you will answer.
"Maybe," Lianyin said, her voice stronger now. "But not today."
She pulled back from Yunhao, immediately missing his warmth. The devoured memories were still there, a chaotic tangle in her mind, but they felt more manageable now. Like books on a shelf rather than voices screaming in her head.
"Your chains," she noticed. "How did you..."
"You fed me power through the bond." He looked at his freed wrists with wonder. "Demonic energy, but... purified somehow. Transformed." His gaze found hers. "What are you?"
"I don't know." It was the most honest answer she could give. "But I think we should find out together. Unless you'd prefer to go back to your cage?"
"Never." The word came out fierce, immediate. "I'll take whatever fate you offer over that light prison."
Outside, dawn was breaking. The spirits faded with the darkness, leaving only the memory of memories behind. They needed to move, to find better shelter, to figure out their next step in this impossible situation.
But for just a moment, in a cave that smelled of frost and old death, two broken people sat together and felt a little less alone.
Enjoy it while it lasts, the Demon King whispered. The blood moon rises in seven days. And when it does, little lotus, you'll learn what it truly means to be my vessel.
Lianyin ignored him. She was getting good at that.
She had more important things to focus on. Like the way Yunhao's hand found hers again, natural as breathing. Like Mochi's rumbling purr as the cub curled up between them.
Like the fact that she was still herself, despite everything.
For now.