Snowfall , clouds had covered the sky with it's gray blanket.
The world had gone white, but not with peace and warmth .Crimson bled through the snow like ink on paper.Corpses layed frozen—twisted and broken, steaming with the last warmth of slaughter.l
And through them, a man walked.
His robes were black and grey, open at the chest, faded and stained with ash and time.His long black hair drifted in the wind like strands of silk.His eyes were half-lidded, carrying the quiet smile of one who had long since forgotten how to grieve.
Each step he took was the drunken sway of a ghosts unsteady, yet strangely elegant.A dance of shadows and memory intertwined.
In his hand: a bottle.Old, jade-green, chipped at the neck.It sloshed as he walked, spilling dark red wine onto corpses and bones not in reverence, but remembrance.A toast to the damned.
He paused atop a hill of ice and lifeless flesh—warriors, cultivators, beasts, none spared.The snow fell heavier, blanketing the scene in cold silence.
He lifted the bottle to his lips.And then… he recited:
"What is love but instinct's lie?A fleeting urge beneath the sky.Strip the flesh—what do you see?Rot and blood, mortality.
Disgust? A coward's first defense.The truth is raw, without pretense.Flesh decays, but thought endures.Mind carves paths that rot obscures.
Morals? Tools of weaker men.A leash disguised as virtue, then.They beg, they whine, they claim to give—Yet drain the strong who choose to live.
So let them wear their painted face,A mask of grace, a mask of place.But I—I see the skin, the skull, the lie.And cut through all with reason dry."
His voice faded into the storm.
Luo Shu took another sip, then whispered,"Rest well. You died as all things do—forgotten, broken, human."
The bottle tilted again.And he walked on.
Through the snow.Through the silence.Toward the next memory.
Eventually, he reached a lone tree,crowned in white blossoms that did not stir despite the storm.Beneath it stood a black stone table, powdered in snow,a second bottle of wine frozen atop its surface.
He sat.Poured himself a cup.And smiled—bitterly.A smile that said to mock one's own existence
The wine in Luo Shu's bottle had gone bitter.The cold had sunk deep into it like sorrow left too long in the heart.
Crunch.
Footsteps.Slow.Hesitant.
An old man, bundled in rags and worn leathers,appeared from behind the blizzard's veil.His face was lined with age, his beard silvered by years, not Qi.A mortal.Fragile.Real.
"HAY YOUNG MAN !! You shouldn't be here," the old man said battling the storm ,shielding his eyes from the snow."This valley… is not meant for you this is not a place the living should wander!"
Luo Shu looked up — a soft smile curling his lips.
" haaa...." a deep sigh
"And yet… here we are."
The old man baffled looked at the young boy
Luo Shu tilted his bottle. A breif momoent of silence passed
The old man wispered ."people don't walk these paths "
"And why is that?"
"Because this is the Valley of ghosts where the dead walk among the living and regrets dont die from death "
"Hmm..."
Luo Shu's smile didn't fade.
"Everything that have come to live will die, so what ?aside from that this place is no different from any other "
He poured another cup.The wine steamed faintly in the cold.
"Care for a drink?" he asked.
The old man raised his hands."No, thank you. I don't drink."
"Please," Luo Shu insisted."Even gods forget their loneliness over wine.Let's not pretend mortals are stronger."
With a tired chuckle, the old man relented.
Luo Shu reached into his sleeveand withdrew a small heating talisman.He warmed the wine before offering it.It shimmered a faint gold — sweet, aromatic.Gohswasu.A rare wine that changed with temperature.
The old man took a cautious sip.
"Sweet," he murmured."Almost… comforting."
Luo Shu sipped his own.Bitter.Dark.Heavy on the tongue.
The two sat in silence,the wind sighing through blossom branches.
"You don't seem old young man what is your name"
"Names are pointless in the Valley of Ghosts," Luo Shu murmured."But if you must call me something… call me Luo Shu."
"Ban," the man replied with a nod."It's strange—meeting someone like you here."
"Not stranger than living."
Ban took another sip, then turned his eyes toward the land below.
They both stared into the valley.A sunken scar on the world, vast and haunting.Trees like dying thoughts twisted into silence.Paths that curved and vanished.Stones shaped like kneeling figures,locked in prayer or sorrow.Snow that fell but never stayed—as if memory itself rejected permanence.
"It's like the world gave up here," Ban whispered.
"No this ..is not the place where the world gave up,Because it wont be this beautiful "
"Rather....it might be its most beautifull memory "
They drank in silence again.
"Why are you really here?" Ban asked.
Luo Shu exhaled a misted breath."Because the dead are easier company than the living."
Ban nodded ."at least they won't complain"
Hearing this luo shu burst out laughing like a menace
"Hahahahaha old man you do have point"
"Old ban you haven't told me why you were here "
"Ho, child i am searching for someone "
"Oh "
"Have you found him?"
Ban sat in silence as if the silence was the answer to the question
Luo Shu didn't push any futher.He looked up into the swirling grey sky.
Ban followed his gaze."Life is a cruel joke.Death, at least, treats all things equal.It's us—humans—who pretend otherwise."
The two of them sat beneath the unmoving blossoms.A mortal and an immortal.Drinking.Remembering.Forgetting.
And above them, the snow kept falling—as if to bury the memories.
End of Chapter 1.