Yuanling smiled genuinely for the first time when she heard those words. Her gaze changed so much in that instant that it felt like she was another person — he didn't know, but this húli jīng was scheming the whole time. Her most strong characteristic since she was a child was her ability to make others bend to her will, and that was exactly what she was planning to do. The devil here was her all along. In the same moment that it changed, her gaze was back into its neutral estate.
— I say the same, Shizuma — her voice was calm and collected — Shall we begin?
Before that crucial time of making him agree to make a pact with her — Yuanling had realized some very important things. The first one, with her spiritual eyes she could see that Shizuma was deeply weakened. Of course she could not beat him down in that estate with her powers only. But, he wasn't in the state of being a national threat like he used to be in the past. Secondly, she realized that he didn't know exactly how some spiritual rituals work — the proof of that was the fact that he didn't immediately attack her. She could be wrong, and that could cost her a lot. Like her life. But she was ready to make that bet work somehow. Her plan was to bind him to her.
Shizuma's gaze held hers like a blade finding its mark. For a long, suspended breath the forest swallowed the sound of the world and all that remained was the hum of their two heartbeats.
— Very well — he said at last, voice low and precise. — You can start.
He let his hand fall, palm open, and for the first time since her feather had betrayed her, Yuanling saw the patience in him sharpen into something almost eager. He lowered himself to one knee as if the moment required ceremony, though there was no reverence in the gesture — only calculation. Then, gently, as if touching something fragile and dangerous, he placed his palm before her.
Yuanling's skin prickled where his fingers had brushed hers. The plan that had been cooling and forming behind her eyes snapped into focus; every inch of her body answered with quiet readiness. She stepped forward until their breaths tangled, until the world itself seemed to stop in the heat of his proximity.
Along with her feather, at her waist, she kept a ceremonial sword. Yuanling unsheathed it and pressed the hilt into Shizuma's hand, guiding the blade across his palm. Blood welled red and warm. Without hesitation, she repeated the gesture on her own hand — the skin splitting where another wound already lingered from the barrier she had raised.
She did not flinch. Instead, Yuanling lifted her chin and exhaled a sound. Low at first, almost a whisper, then stronger — not a melody, but a resonance. A secret tongue her mother had whispered into her childhood dreams. Each syllable carried her qi, shivering through her nine tails and rippling outward like waves against still water.
She placed her hand atop his, letting her blood mingle with his in deliberate drops. The sound deepened, binding the moment. Space around them grew taut, as though the very air bowed to her command.
This was no mere ritual. If she succeeded, she would seize him — his will, his strength, his very essence — and hold him within the palm of her hand.
Things did not turn out as she expected.
The moment their blood mingled, a light burst to life between their joined hands — sharp, blinding, alive. It wasn't the controlled flicker of ritual qi. It flared, pulling their palms together as if the drops themselves longed for union.
The glow grew so intense that Yuanling could not look away. Every instinct told her this was wrong. This was not her mother's secret enchantings. This was not any binding she had ever studied.
Shizuma's expression hardened, intrigue shadowing his features. His brows knit together as the light coiled upward, swirling in the air like a living flame. For the first time, Yuanling felt her certainty falter.
— What is happening? What exactly are you doing? — Shizuma's voice cut harshly through the glow, suspicion sharpening every word. — Are you tricking me?
— If I knew what was happening, I would have fixed it already! — Yuanling snapped back, her tone trembling between fear and anger. — I don't know what kind of reaction this is!
The light pulsed violently, and she staggered a step back. Panic flickered in her eyes as the glow swelled higher. Her body betrayed her — suddenly heavy, as though invisible chains had coiled around her limbs and dragged her down. The weight pressed on her shoulders, on her chest, crushing her to the earth.
She fought it, teeth clenched, forcing her legs to remain upright. But the pressure only deepened. Her breath came short, vision blurring at the edges, as if the world itself sought to drown her in that merciless brilliance.
Her knees buckled. The force crushed down mercilessly until her strength bled away. The sword slipped from her grasp, clattering uselessly against the floor.
Yuanling gasped — one last desperate breath — before her legs gave out entirely. She collapsed, the glow swallowing her outline as though the light itself claimed her. Her nine tails flared once, twitching violently, then fell limp around her like broken ribbons.
Her vision fractured into shards of color and shadow. She thought she heard her mother's voice, distant and muffled, calling her name from within the radiance. But the sound scattered, torn apart by the rushing weight inside her head.
Darkness pressed in. She reached out blindly, fingertips grazing only air before everything slipped away.
And Yuanling fell into silence.
—
14th of the Moon Year 2102
Bai Long's Province: Tiānxīn (天心)
Capital: Guāngchéng (光城)
The streets of Guāngchéng pulsed with life, every corner echoing with the rhythm of the empire's beating heart. Silk banners swayed overhead, dyed in rich crimson and stitched with golden dragons, their scales glittering under the midday sun. The scent of incense drifted from temple courtyards, mingling with the sharp aroma of roasted chestnuts and spiced wine sold by street vendors.
Children darted through the crowd with paper kites shaped like phoenixes, while solemn monks in saffron robes chanted prayers that seemed to float above the noise of merchants haggling in a dozen dialects. Somewhere, a gong thundered, announcing the arrival of an imperial procession — soldiers in polished armor marching in perfect rhythm, clearing the way for carriages draped in red and white silk.
Guāngchéng was not merely a city; it was the embodiment of Bai Long's spirit — sacred, radiant, and eternal.
But the person who walked through those radiant streets, surrounded by sights that many would envy, was not there to linger nor to marvel at the beauty of Guāngchéng. A purpose weighed on their steps, sharp and unwavering — to keep a close eye on Liu Yuanling.
She was a figure impossible to overlook, her presence alone drawing the gaze of everyone around her. Long, straight white hair cascaded down her back, catching faint hues of rose when touched by the sunlight. Her lips, delicate and tinted a vivid red, seemed almost ethereal, as though painted by the hand of a divine artist. Her eyes — rosé with a faint trace of blue — held a mesmerizing glow, as if carrying both the warmth of dawn and the chill of twilight. And her features — sharp yet graceful, foxlike in their elegance — bore a beauty both dangerous and enchanting, a beauty that whispered of secrets hidden beneath the surface.
Beauty aside, the one observing her found little of true substance. Yes, she possessed a respectable spiritual power — but nothing extraordinary, nothing that should warrant such attention. In truth, the observer carried at least twice as much strength within themselves. Why their master would place so much importance on a woman like her was beyond comprehension.
The thought stirred annoyance, like a splinter under the skin, but they would never voice it. Questioning the will of their master was unthinkable. The master always knew more, always saw further.
There was something undeniably strange about that woman. Only a few months ago, it was as if she had not existed at all. No records, no trace of her life before then. Some of the documents in her name were genuine — the kind that could be easily reissued with little effort. But others, the ones that no adult could possibly acquire for themselves, the ones that were usually filed by parents when a child was born… Those were obvious forgeries. The cracks in her history showed clearly to anyone who bothered to look closely.
She lived in a relatively good house — not extravagant, but far too comfortable for someone who neither held a job nor, by all accounts, had even existed before a few months ago. The more details surfaced, the fewer answers came with them.
Her routine was deceptively simple: mornings spent at temples offering her services as an exorcist and priestess, afternoons wandering through famous landmarks, and sometimes slipping into places so obscure that even long-time residents rarely paid them any attention. Yet there was something unsettling about her. At times, her clothing looked ancient — not merely traditional, as was common in the capital of Bai Long, but authentically old, as if the fabric itself had endured for a thousand years.
Of all the things that seemed off about her, the most intriguing was her last name: Liu. It was a name belonging only to the previous dynasty, the one that had ruled the nation long before, now reduced to ruins — or better put, to ashes. Not a single member of that fallen line had survived to pass the name down, so it had naturally vanished from among the people… until now.
The pulse on their wrist throbbed softly, a faint glow emanating from the jade bracelet that always rested there. They flexed his fingers, and the runes engraved on its surface flickered like firelight, rearranging themselves into words only he could perceive.
"A task awaits you. Watch her closely. Liu Yuanling is to be sent to Lingyīn. Say that there is a spirit… one that requires exorcism. Ensure she gets there, and report anything unusual."
The message vanished as quickly as it appeared, leaving only the lingering warmth of the magic against his skin. They exhaled slowly, annoyance and curiosity mingling. The girl with the white-and-rose hair, the foxlike features, the strange, broken records… now had to be lured into a "mission."
The one in charge of spying on her carried out the mission flawlessly — and she walked right into his trap. All that remained now was to observe, to watch every step she took, every reaction, every decision. The pieces were in motion, and the game had only just begun.
20th of the Moon Year 2102
Bai Long's Province: Lingyīn (天心)
Location: Hēiyě (黑野) Forest
Six days had passed since Yuanling had been sent to Lingyīn, and the forest had settled into its nocturnal rhythm. The spy moved silently through the underbrush, every step measured, every sound minimized. The shadows of Hēiyě stretched long under the pale light of the moon, and the mist curling between the gnarled trees made the world seem unreal.
From a concealed vantage point atop a low hill, they watched. Yuanling moved with her usual grace, white-and-rose hair glimmering faintly in the moonlight, foxlike features alert and focused. Shizuma's presence was a stark contrast — composed, confident, every movement precise, as though the very air bent around them.
The spy observed the interaction carefully, noting subtle gestures, the shifting tension, and the quiet dominance Shizuma exerted. Every laugh, every word, every small expression was cataloged, measured, stored. The forest seemed to press in closer, the night amplifying even the smallest sound — the rustle of leaves, the snap of a twig, the distant hoot of an owl — each one a possible clue.
They remained unseen, a shadow among shadows, patience and vigilance etched into every line of their body. Yuanling was unaware of the trap laid before her, unaware that every choice she made was being watched, analyzed, and reported. And in the darkness of Hēiyě, the spy felt the weight of their duty: to see it through, no matter what truths were revealed under the cold gaze of the moon.
A sudden pulse thrummed against the spy's wrist, warmer and sharper than before. The jade bracelet flickered, and the runes shifted into a new message, bright and urgent:
"Intervene. You cannot allow this to continue. Remove Liu Yuanling from Shizuma's influence at any cost. Report nothing — survival and extraction are your only priorities."
The words vanished as quickly as they had appeared, leaving only the residual heat of magic on their skin. A weight settled on the spy's shoulders, heavier than any physical burden. Yuanling was no longer simply a target to observe; she was now someone they must rescue from the very person who had ensnared her.
Their eyes swept the forest once more. The mist clung tighter around the trees of Hēiyě, shadows deepened. Every careful step, every cautious breath would matter now — one misstep, one hesitation, and the cost could be far greater than failure.
They flexed their fingers, the glow of the runes fading, and steeled themselves. The game had changed, and the dark expanse of Hēiyě was now a stage for a far more dangerous mission.