The forest of Yuanlin did not welcome wanderers at night.
Its trees bent like old monks whispering forgotten prayers, its wind sounded like teeth grinding in the dark, and its moonlight never reached the ground in one piece.
But Ae Qing walked without fear.
The little bird on her shoulder—its feathers a dark golden brown, glowing faintly like embers—shifted its weight and chirped. It was small enough to fit in her palm, yet its eyes held the sharpness of something ancient.
"Easy, Listen," she murmured.
She had named the bird Listen because it often heard things before she did—things no human should hear.
A soft chime rang from her hand as she pushed aside a low branch.
The ring she wore—an heirloom of her bloodline—caught the thin moonlight.
A serpent carved around its band.
Wings instead of scales.
Feathers instead of fangs.
A creature that belonged to neither sky nor earth, just like her.
The symbol of a half-soul.
Half of her spirit lived here, in the Kingdom of Shengxian, a land between heaven and the underworld.
The other half… existed somewhere beyond mortal reach, in another world she could feel but not touch.
Her two halves pulsed like twin hearts, beating across worlds.
Her grandmother mother told her once:
"You cannot be whole until the other you awakens."
Ae Qing never knew what that meant.
She still didn't.
Tonight, however, the forest felt expectant—like the trees themselves were holding their breath, waiting for her to step on the right stone, to breathe the right air, to hear the right whisper.
That whisper came.
Not gentle.
Not kind.
Not earthly.
It slid through the leaves like a blade dipped in cold prayer.
"Child…"
Ae Qing froze.
Her bird bristled, feathers rising like tiny knives.
The voice came again, deeper, older, carrying an ancient Asian cadence that did not belong to the world of men.
"Child… you will survive."
The wind trembled.
The ground shifted under her feet.
"Child… all of you will survive… if destiny is kind."
Ae Qing's breath caught.
This voice did not reassure—it warned.
Because where there were ancient voices, there were ancient things listening.
A faint growl echoed between the trees.
Listen dug its claws into her shoulder.
Ae Qing touched the ring with her thumb, feeling a pulse beneath the metal—like the soul inside the ring was trying to wake.
Something was watching her from the shadows.
Not human.
Not god.
Not demon.
Something older.
She stepped backward, her silk robes whispering across fallen leaves. The forest did not move, yet she felt a shift—like the entire kingdom inhaled sharply.
The voice returned, now behind her ear, too close, too real:
"Princess of Shengxian… the demons hunger for you."
Her blood ran cold.
"If they devour you, the balance will end."
Ae Qing spun around—but no one stood there.
Only darkness.
Only trees.
Only the beating of her half-soul trembling inside her chest.
A shadow slipped between two trunks.
She heard bones clicking.
Feet dragging.
Breath rattling like dry leaves in a dying storm.
Demons were not supposed to enter this forest.
Not unless the barrier was broken.
She gripped her ring.
"Who are you?" she whispered into the dark.
The voice answered from everywhere at once:
"The one who guards your other half."
Ae Qing's heart stopped.
"My… other half?" she breathed.
"Awaken her, or both worlds will fall."
The forest fell silent.