Shree Yan woke from his sleep and stepped outside quietly. His mother was still asleep inside the cave.
The sky outside was clear. Morning light filtered through the trees, and the soft chirping of birds echoed in his ears. A cool breeze brushed against his back. Under a large tree stood a senior soldier, who smiled faintly and said, "Good morning, young master Shree Yan. I'm surprised you're awake this early."
Shree Yan startled, realizing someone stood before him. He looked the man over. The soldier's hair was black, though threads of white had begun creeping in at the temples. He looked almost middle-aged. He wore steel armor, and his hair, cut medium-short, stirred slowly with the wind.
The senior soldier was calm. Shree Yan, by contrast, felt sweat gathering at his forehead. "Good morning, senior soldier. I'm also surprised you're up before me. What kept you up so early?" Shree Yan asked.
The senior soldier answered without hesitation, his calm unbroken. "Nothing in particular, young master. There's nothing I need to do. You don't need to call me 'senior,' young master, I'm just an ordinary soldier to you. I'm honored that you'd say it, but you can call me by my name. Just tell me what you want."
His calm was almost too steady.
Shree Yan smiled lightly. "Okay then. Long You, I'll call you by your name."
Long You smiled back. "Thank you, young master, for hearing me out. May I ask a favor of you?"
Shree Yan answered without thinking, "Speak."
Long You's smile sharpened at the edges. "I'd like to spar with you. I want to see what our next patriarch is really made of."
Panic flickered through Shree Yan. Shit, what do I do? Why did I say 'speak'? He trapped me. There was no way out of it now. Reluctantly, he said, "Yes... you ca—"
Before he could finish, Long You struck at him with a sword. Shree Yan dodged, but not cleanly, the blade grazed his cheek, leaving a thin, stinging line.
"What are you doing?" Shree Yan gasped. "You're actually attacking me!"
Long You's voice came back cool and mocking. "Ah, sorry, did I hurt you, young master? But you never gave me any rules. You said 'yes.' Not my fault." He came forward again.
Strike. Strike. Strike. Long You pressed the attack, relentless and precise, and Shree Yan found no opening to fight back.
"Argh!"
"This bastard," Shree Yan hissed, his body shaking. Long You's strength was on another level entirely, and Shree Yan was still just a child, no match for him at all.
He tried to scream for his mother, throat raw with the effort, but they were too deep in the jungle. No sound reached anyone. He was alone, and he knew it.
Fog drifted slow between the trees as Long You walked forward, one measured step at a time.
His mouth curled into something cruel. "Ah, did I forget to mention? Your voice can't reach the cave, not even if you were standing right outside it. I set a small formation to keep any sound from getting out. You'll only be found if someone happens to wake up and come looking. Hehe. Hahahaha."
Shree Yan forced his rage into something steadier. "So this was planned from the start."
Long You laughed, loud and unbothered. "Yes, yes! Look behind you. See where we are. Hahaha."
Shree Yan turned, and his stomach dropped. They were standing in the clan's forbidden grounds. His teeth clenched hard enough to ache. "You... you..."
Long You only laughed again, softer this time. "What will you do about it, young master?"
Then, a voice tore through the forest, his mother's, calling his name as she ran toward them. Long You's jaw tightened.
He spotted a wolf closing in on the sound of her voice, and before Shree Yan could react, shoved him directly into its path. Shree Yan and his mother both froze in horror as the wolf leapt. But before its jaws closed on him, his mother's blade came down first.
A single, sharp crack.
The wolf dropped, dead. Qing You turned on Long You with eyes burning. His face had gone pale, sweat beading along his hairline, fear finally cracking through his composure. She raised her blade to strike.
Before the blow landed, he spoke fast. "If you kill me, you won't be safe either, not even as the patriarch's wife. This rule applies to everyone. And without witnesses, without proof, how will you explain any of this to the clan leader? To the people?" He laughed, the sound scraping against her nerves. But it didn't matter to her, not when her son's life had been the price on the table.
The blade fell.
His head hit the ground. Others came running at the noise, and when they arrived, they froze at the sight of Long You's severed head. "How is this possible?" someone breathed. Others noticed the wolf king lying dead beside it.
"Seize Miss Qing You! She has committed the gravest crime against this clan!" a voice rang out. With Long You gone, the authority to make that call fell to him now. His name was Nu Mang.
For the first time, Qing You broke down and wept, openly, helplessly. She understood, in that instant, that her life was already over. She turned to look at Shree Yan one last time. Leaving him behind felt like being torn apart from the inside. Shree Yan sobbed too, his small body shaking with a grief too large for him to hold.
***
The Sacrificial Hall.
"Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill!"
"Before the court of the clans, it has been proven that Miss Qing You stands guilty. The evidence against her is undeniable, and she has offered nothing in her own defense." The judge's voice rolled out over the hall, cold and final.
The crowd roared, hungry for her death. At the center of the hall stood the sacrifice butcher. Before him knelt Qing You, her head resting against the block. Above them all, on the throne, sat Shree Yan's father.
His name was Tunxo Miaming, leader of the clan. Beside him stood Advisor Niang Ming, and near them, Shree Yan. Niang Ming leaned in, his eyes narrowing. "Leader, give the order now. The crowd is losing control."
Tunxo Miaming closed his eyes. "You may begin—"
Before he could finish, Shree Yan's voice cut through the hall. "Father, please. Let me speak with my mother, only for a few minutes. As her son, I have that right." It was not a request so much as a claim, one the young masters of the clan were entitled to make.
Tunxo Miaming granted it.
Outside the Sacrificial Hall.
"Mother, I can't watch this. I can't watch you die." Shree Yan's voice cracked apart with every word, his composure gone entirely. "Let's run. Just the two of us. We can start over somewhere far from here. We can be happy."
Qing You looked at him, and despite everything, she managed a soft smile. "Son, I can't. If I run on the day of my sentencing, they won't let it go. They'll hunt us both down, and if you help me, they'll come for you too."
She understood exactly what it would cost him: even as the young master, his father couldn't shield him if he were seen helping a convicted criminal escape. Not after she had killed the captain of the Elite Soldiers. Not after the wolf king had died in the forbidden grounds because of her.
"Mother, but—" She pressed both hands gently over his mouth, silencing him before he could go on. "Son. Don't cry. I will always be with you, in front of you, in the shadows, wherever you go. Even after I'm gone, I will still be protecting you."
Then the time allotted to them ran out. Two soldiers arrived and took hold of Qing You's arms. She walked with them, step by step, back toward the hall. At the threshold, she turned one last time and looked at her son. "Goodbye, son," she said, still smiling.
Tunxo Miaming gave the order. "Proceed."
His face showed nothing. No grief, no hesitation, as though the woman about to die by his word meant nothing to him at all.
"Nooooooo!" Shree Yan's scream tore through the hall. It felt as though his heart had been shattered into a thousand pieces. The only person in this world who had ever truly cared for him was dying in front of him, and there was nothing he could do but watch.
The blade fell. Qing You's body split in two.
Shree Yan didn't move. Didn't speak. He stood frozen, hollowed out, as though something essential in him had simply stopped. Ten minutes passed before the sound finally broke out of him, and then he wept, violently, uncontrollably, a grief that didn't feel like his own anymore. His tears no longer felt like water. They felt like blood.
Something in his chest went still that day and never fully started again.
After that, Shree Yan stopped leaving the house altogether. Grief settled into him like rot, deep and permanent. Eventually, he left the clan entirely. For five years he lived alone in a dark room, and in all that time, his father never once came to see him, never reached out, never tried to bring him back, even though he was his only son.
Ten years after that, Advisor Niang betrayed the clan leader. When Shree Yan heard the news, he returned. And when he did, he slaughtered every member of the clan, man, woman, child. No one was spared.
From that day, Shree Yan walked the demonic path, taking the lives of countless people in the name of a grief that had never healed.
Seven hundred years later, his enemies finally caught up to him, and the world he had built collapsed along with him.