The sound of the warning horn echoed in Hua Qian's ears, a sound of pure terror. It was a sound she had only heard twice in her life, once when a fire swept through the western fields and once when a pack of starving wolves had ventured too close to the village. Both times, the village had banded together and faced the danger.
But this was different. This danger was sitting in her clinic, a man whose very presence was a beacon to things far worse than wolves.
"They're here for me," Di Jun repeated, his voice devoid of any emotion. He was already moving, striding towards the door with a predatory grace that belied his recent weakness.
"No," Hua Qian said, her voice sharp. She scrambled in front of him, blocking his path. She was a small thing, but she stood her ground like a mountain. "You can't go out there."
He looked down at her, his silver and gold eyes filled with a cold amusement. "You cannot stop me, little healer. They are my enemies. I will not hide behind a mortal woman while they burn your village."
"Fighting them is exactly what will make them burn it!" she cried, grabbing his arm. His skin was cold as marble, but under her touch, she felt a jolt—that strange, new connection, a thread of his coldness and her warmth weaving together. "You are still weak. And if you fight them here, you will destroy everything. My home, my people… my clinic."
For a moment, she saw a flicker of something in his eyes. Was it hesitation? He looked at her hand on his arm, then at her desperate face. He was a lord of demons, a being who had crushed armies, and this tiny mortal was telling him what to do.
"Then what do you suggest?" he asked, his voice dangerously low. "Should we hide under the bed like frightened children?"
"No," she said, her mind racing, the healer's calm taking over. "We use the one thing they won't expect. A trick."
Before he could respond, she grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the back of the clinic. He was so heavy that she felt like she was trying to move a statue, but he allowed himself to be led, his curiosity piqued.
She pulled back a heavy rug on the floor, revealing a trapdoor. With a grunt, she heaved it open, revealing a dark, narrow set of stone steps leading down into the earth.
"The cellar," she said. "It's where I store my herbs that need the dark and the cold. No one knows it's here. It's hidden."
Di Jun looked down into the black hole, a clear expression of distaste on his face. A king, hiding in a dirt cellar. The indignity of it was stinging.
"Go," she urged, pushing him gently. "Please. You made a promise. No harm will come to my world. This is the only way."
He looked from the dark hole to her determined face. He could feel her fear, but it was a sharp, clean fear, not the cloying stench of panic. Underneath it, he felt her unwavering resolve. She was not afraid for herself. She was afraid for her home.
With a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of ages, he gave a single, sharp nod and descended into the darkness. Hua Qian quickly followed, pulling the trapdoor shut above them. They were plunged into absolute blackness, the air thick with the smell of drying herbs and damp earth.
The sounds from outside became muffled, distant. They could hear shouting, the clash of steel, and then a sound that made Hua Qian's blood run cold. A high, piercing shriek that was not human.
Di Jun tensed beside her. "Celestial soldiers," he whispered, his voice vibrating with a quiet fury. "They must have tracked the arrow's energy."
Hua Qian's heart hammered against her ribs. Celestial soldiers. The heroes from the stories. But they sounded like monsters. She could feel Di Jun's rage coiling in the back of her mind, a cold, deadly serpent ready to strike. He wanted to be up there, fighting.
"Don't," she whispered, knowing what he was thinking. She reached out in the darkness and found his hand, her small fingers lacing with his large, cold ones. "Remember your promise."
He didn't pull away. His hand remained still in hers. The connection between them flared, and she felt his internal struggle. The warrior's pride against the word he had given her. It was a silent, violent battle, and she held her breath, praying she had chosen right.
Suddenly, the trapdoor above them was splintered by a powerful blow. Light flooded the cellar, and two figures dropped down, landing as softly as cats.
They were dressed in gleaming white and silver armor, so bright it hurt the eyes in the gloomy cellar. They held swords that hummed with a pure, golden light. They were beautiful, perfect, and their faces were cold and hard as stone.
Their eyes fell on Hua Qian, then on the tall, dark figure behind her.
"The Demon Lord," one of them said, his voice like the ringing of a bell. "We have found you. And the mortal who harbors him."
The other soldier pointed his sword at her. "Step aside, girl. You are tainted by his touch. But if you surrender him, we may show you mercy."
Hua Qian's fear vanished, replaced by a surge of anger. These were the heroes? They threatened her home and called her tainted? She stood up straight, putting herself between the soldiers and Di Jun.
"There is no one here but me," she said, her voice shaking but clear. "I am the village healer. I was hiding from the fighting. You are scaring me."
The soldier laughed, a cold, empty sound. "Do not lie to us, mortal. Our spiritual senses can feel his stench. He is right behind you."
Before Hua Qian could say another word, Di Jun moved. He gently pushed her aside and stepped forward. He was still weak, still wounded, but his presence filled the small cellar. The air grew cold, and the shadows seemed to deepen and cling to him.
"You are a long way from your golden palaces," Di Jun said, his voice a low rumble. "Tell me, does the Jade Emperor know his dogs are sniffing around in the mud?"
The first soldier's face twisted in rage. "Die, monster!"
He lunged, his golden sword flashing. Hua Qian screamed, expecting to see Di Jun cut down.
But Di Jun didn't even draw a weapon. He simply raised his hand. A wall of pure black energy, shimmering like an oil slick, appeared in front of him. The celestial sword struck it with a deafening clang, and the soldier was thrown back as if he had hit a mountain.
The second soldier attacked from the side. Di Jun turned, his movements impossibly fast, and caught the blade of the sword with his bare hand. Golden sparks flew, but the blade did not cut him. He squeezed, and the celestial sword shattered into a thousand pieces of light.
The soldier stared in disbelief at his empty hilt.
Di Jun's eyes blazed, one gold, one silver. He was a god of darkness in this tiny space, a force of nature. He raised his hand to deliver the final blow.
But then he stopped.
He glanced back at Hua Qian. He could feel her terror, her despair. He could feel her plea, not spoken with words, but screamed through their new soul-bound connection. Don't. Please, don't.
His hand, which had been about to crush the soldier's heart, froze. With a roar of frustration, he instead slapped the soldier across the room. The soldier flew through the air and crashed into the stone wall, slumping to the ground, unconscious.
The first soldier, seeing his partner defeated and his sword useless, made a choice. He scrambled up the stairs and fled into the night.
Silence returned to the cellar. It was broken only by Hua Qian's ragged breaths. Di Jun stood with his back to her, his shoulders tense. He was trembling, not from weakness, but from the effort of restraint.
He slowly turned to face her. His expression was unreadable, but in his dual-colored eyes, she saw something new. It wasn't anger or arrogance. It was a question.
He had kept his promise. He had not killed. And in doing so, he had shown her a side of himself she never would have believed existed.
"Why?" he asked, his voice a raw whisper. "Why did you stop me?"