"I thought they would serve Gao's body for dinner," Zhao muttered to his beloved, "I never expected a funeral in a place like this."
Long Xuan shot the boy a wry glance. "You still think we're cannibals, don't you?"
"Aren't you?"
"Of course not. Forget meat—living underground means we survive only on vegetables and mushrooms. Sometimes we grow sick of eating the same things, so a few of us venture to the surface in search of chickens or birds lost in the forest. But many never return."
"Why not?"
"Because they're slaughtered by surface dwellers on the king's orders. That is why we despise your father."
"..."
The funeral for Gao ended shortly after. His grave was placed before an underground waterfall. Water like liquid crystal roared down into the depths, its mist filling the cavern with damp, shimmering air. On either side lay rows of graves, while at the center stretched a lush oasis of greenery.
It was the only place filled with fresh oxygen. A single tall tree and two thick groves of bamboo stood proudly on each side, their leaves still full and vibrant.
"This is where we grow food," Long Xuan explained. "Potatoes, carrots, cassava, and many kinds of mushrooms. The graves above enrich the soil, allowing life to flourish."
Zhao chuckled. "So in other words, the crops you eat are nourished by the bodies of your own dead. Doesn't that sound like cannibalism?"
"..."
Long Xuan's expression twisted at the boy's taunt.
"..."
"Ahem!" Ruo Yun nudged Zhao. "Would you stop mocking them?"
"Sorry."
"It's fine. I understand—you haven't accepted us, just as we still doubt you. I suppose that makes us even. Let's go. Dinner will be served soon."
But the sight of the waterfall made Ruo Yun hesitate. She tugged at Zhao's arm, leading him closer. The roaring cascade calmed their troubled hearts. She cupped her hands to drink. "This is so fresh! Zhao, you have to try it."
He obeyed. Her intuition stirred again; she followed the stream to where the water gathered. Together they discovered a vast chamber glowing green, with a massive pool releasing tendrils of steam.
"What is this place? A hot spring?"
"Ah, so you've found our sacred baths," Long Xuan's voice startled them from behind.
"Sacred baths?"
"Yes. This isn't just any hot spring. We believe it draws away negative energy and accelerates healing—body and spirit alike. You may use it for recovery, or for peace of mind."
"You hear that, Zhao? This is perfect for you."
"What do you mean by perfect?"
"Eh… how should I put it? Of everyone here, you carry the heaviest shadow. The bath will help cleanse it."
Without hesitation, Ruo Yun began removing her clothes.
It was only then she realized two men were still standing right in front of her.
"Are you both going to stand there and watch me undress?"
"..."
"..."
Zhao and Long Xuan exchanged a mortified glance. Heat rose in their faces, and they quickly retreated, leaving her the privacy she demanded.
"I'll head to the main hall to prepare dinner," Long Xuan muttered. "Bring Ruo Yun once you're both finished."
Zhao gave a silent nod.
Half an hour later, refreshed from the sacred waters, Zhao and Ruo Yun entered the main hall. The Minggu tribe sat in a circle, vegetarian dishes spread across the floor—food harvested from the grave-fed fields near the waterfall.
"Tonight, we honor one of our warriors who has fallen in combat," the Matron's voice thundered through the chamber. "It pains us to lose someone so dear, yet Gao died in a duel—an honorable death. For Gao, let us drink!"
"For Gao!" the hall roared in unison.
"At this time, we also welcome two new members into our family—victors of today's duel. To Zhao Han and his beloved, Ruo Yun Han, welcome to the Minggu."
Sparse applause scattered across the hall, but most whispered curses under their breath. Their eyes burned with hostility.
"I see many here still oppose us," Zhao muttered to Long Xuan, feeling every resentful glare.
"Ignore them," Long Xuan said between bites. "Sooner or later, they will accept you."
Ruo Yun nibbled at her roasted potato, while Zhao's piercing green eyes searched the invisible threads that seemed to bind each soul in the room. His mind was restless.
"I still don't understand. Who are you really? Why do you live underground?"
Long Xuan set down his bowl. His voice deepened, echoing against the cavern walls. "Once, we lived above the earth as ordinary men. But invaders came, driving us from our homeland. There was no refuge—wherever we fled, we were hunted, tortured, slaughtered. At last, with nowhere left, we buried ourselves beneath the soil."
He lifted his gaze, solemn and fierce. "Our ancestors spoke of an ancient prophecy: one day, a messenger from the heavens would descend to deliver us, guiding us back to the paradise we lost. That prophecy is fulfilled today."
"You believe that's me?" Zhao's voice trembled.
"Yes." Long Xuan bowed his head in reverence. "Your arrival, your victory—these are no coincidences. You, Zhao Han, are the Shèntiān. The Bringer of Paradise.