Jiao Jiao's body crumbled into ash in Xue Tuzi's trembling arms, disintegrating like a final whispered breath into the wind. Xue Tuzi's fingers clenched desperately around the empty space where warmth had once been, eyes wide with disbelief, lips parted in a silent scream that never found its voice. He rocked forward with a soft, broken sob, his whole body shaking as if the world had collapsed beneath him.
Xue Laohu dropped to his knees beside him, face ashen, heart pounding with a kind of horror that seemed to mute the very air. He reached out with gentle hands, placing one behind Xue Tuzi's quivering back, trying to soothe the shattered pieces of his soul. "He's gone…" Xue Tuzi choked, his voice cracked and raw, "Xiao Jiao… he's… gone…"
Just a few steps away, Shudu staggered upright, his breathing ragged. His long dark braid clung to his sweat-drenched skin, his brows drawn tight with pain. One crimson eye flickered with fury, glowing like a dying ember refusing to fade. A strangled cough tore from his throat, splattering blood across his hand as he clutched his chest—his demonic core, broken and splintered, burned within him like a dying star.
His gaze fell on Xue Tuzi, and a deep, bone-shaking resentment surged to the surface.
All of this… all of this was his fault.
If Xue Tuzi had acted, if he had struck Ye Hu down in time, if he hadn't hesitated—Jiao Jiao would still be alive.
Shudu's hand trembled, then clenched into a fist so tight that his nails cut into his palms. Blood trickled down between his fingers. His steps were unsteady, dragging across the dirt like a man half-dead, but with each breath he took, rage lent him strength. He stumbled toward Xue Tuzi, teeth clenched so hard they nearly cracked, and then—without warning—he lashed out with a savage kick, his boot slamming hard into Xue Tuzi's chest.
"You…" he growled, his voice a guttural snarl.
Xue Tuzi cried out as the blow knocked him backward, coughing violently.
"You killed him…" Shudu's voice was hoarse, blood trailing from the corner of his mouth. He lurched, spitting another mouthful onto the earth. "This is all your fault—all of it!"
His crimson eye flared with hatred, veins popping along his neck as his rage overtook his reason.
Xue Laohu caught Xue Tuzi just in time before he collapsed again, gathering him into his arms like something fragile that might break further. "Xiao Jiao…" Xue Tuzi whimpered over and over, tears streaking down his cheeks as he buried his face against Xue Laohu's shoulder. His body convulsed with coughs, blood spraying from his lips, warm and wet between them. He didn't even seem to notice.
Xue Laohu looked up, his own expression tight with sorrow and helpless fury, but Shudu was already gone.
The demon staggered away, every step a struggle. His vision blurred, his breath shallow. His legs buckled, but he forced them forward, driven only by a primal instinct to survive. At the edge of the trees, his fading gaze caught sight of a collapsed cave, half-swallowed by moss and tangled vines.
He made for it.
His hand reached for the vines, thorns tearing through his skin, but he didn't stop. He dragged himself through the narrow opening, collapsing inside with a gasp that barely echoed before everything faded into black.
In the suffocating silence of the cave he began losing consciousness, a flicker of movement stirred above him. A pale, silk-spun figure descended from the ceiling on thin legs, her silhouette half-hidden in shadow. It was a spider her face shaped like a woman, her features twisted with worry and pain. Her eyes shimmered with emotion as she lowered herself beside Shudu.
"Poor child…" she whispered, her voice delicate, her jaw clicking faintly as she moved. One long leg reached out, brushing aside the matted strands of hair from his clammy face. "Master…" she murmured again, this time softer, like a prayer. "Master, can you hear me?"
Far away, Xiao Zongzi's cries echoed in the back of Shudu's mind.
She had been searching for him, gliding through the forest with urgency, her every nerve attuned to the faint flickers of his qi. When she sensed the dying pulse near the cave, her heart clenched with dread. She rushed inside—and there he was. Crumpled. Barely breathing.
"Master!" she gasped, curling herself protectively around him. His once fiery eyes were now dull and lifeless, his chest rising only in shallow spurts. She saw it—the core, his demonic core—shattered. The pieces glimmered faintly in the gloom like shards of purple crystal, disintegrating with each second that passed.
"No…" she whispered, panic rising in her voice. "No, no… you mustn't…"
With trembling limbs, she gathered the fragments, cradling them as if they were pieces of his soul. Her tears dripped onto the dirt as she tried to hold the core together, her whispers desperate, frantic.
"Master, you must live. Please… allow this lowly one to repay her debt…"
Without hesitation, she dug deep into her abdomen, her body shuddering with pain. A radiant violet light bloomed from within her, a demonic core—perfect, whole—glistening in the shadows.
It was in a cave much like this one—dark, damp, overgrown with moss—that she first met him.
Back then, she had been small. Barely the size of a clenched fist, a young spider demon with soft, translucent legs and a fragile body still learning the scent of the world. She had been running for days, fleeing from stronger demons who chased her down with hunger in their eyes, hoping to devour her for the mere thrill of it. Her kind was weak, their qi meager, their bones brittle. Easy prey.
Soaked from the rain, shivering from exhaustion, she'd crawled to the top of the cave ceiling and tucked herself into the shadows, limbs curled tightly around her small body. Her black, glassy eyes—round as midnight pearls—never strayed from the entrance, watching, waiting, terrified her pursuers would find her scent and drag her out by her silk.
Then came the sound of hurried steps—erratic, uneven, splashing through the mud.
A figure bolted into the cave, cursing beneath his breath. He was drenched, too, blood flowing freely from a mangled arm that hung limply at his side. He slumped against the wall with a pained groan, his body shaking, breath sharp and ragged.
Then he looked up—and saw her.
His eyes, sharp and strangely amused despite his injuries, widened slightly when they landed on her. Her round eyes blinked slowly, as she saw him grin.
"It's you!" he exclaimed, pointing up at her. His smile was broad, a touch wild, his sharp teeth gleaming faintly in the filtered moonlight leaking into the cave.
Her instincts flared.
Without a second thought, she scattered into the darkness, scuttling deeper into the cave's ceiling crevices, her many legs moving so fast they made no sound. She didn't know this man. She'd never seen him before. And she feared humans—feared them more than anything. It was humans who hunted demons for glory, who razed entire broods of spirit beasts to ash.
She did not want to die.
"Hey, wait—don't leave!" he called out, his voice echoing softly into the stone chamber. He struggled to his feet, half-limping, half-lurching toward her. "I want to thank you!"
She paused.
Perched on the wall, she twisted her tiny head all the way around, her black eyes locking onto him again. Her mandibles clicked softly. Was this a trick? A trap? Her body trembled slightly, but she didn't flee this time. He was injured—if he attacked, she could escape across the ceiling before he landed a blow.
"I don't know you," she hissed from the shadows, her voice high and tense. To create distance, she spat out a puff of toxic miasma—thick and purple—that wafted toward him in warning.
He coughed violently, stumbling back, waving his hand to dispel the cloud. "Ack—!" he wheezed. "You've forgotten me already? You wound me!"
"I said, I don't know you." Her voice grew sharper now, impatient and wary.
He pressed a hand to his chest dramatically, grinning despite the smoke curling around him. "Don't you remember? You gave me my demonic core!"
She blinked.
Then watched, puzzled and uncertain, as he unbuttoned his soaked, torn shirt with one hand. His nails sharpened mid-motion, glinting like obsidian as he plunged them into his own flesh without so much as a wince. He spread his chest open slightly, just enough to reveal it—a pulsing violet demonic core embedded between his ribs, radiating a low, eerie light.
Her eyes widened slightly.
"That's not possible," she said, her voice low, more confused now than angry. "I never… I never did such a thing."
"Are you sure?" he asked with a lopsided smirk, blood trailing down his abdomen like crimson ink. "I'd swear it was your silk that bound it, and your energy that stitched the wound. Back then, you were cold but still so kind."
Her posture eased slightly.
Now that she knew he, too, was a demon—one who had taken on human form—her suspicion began to melt into wary curiosity. Most demons who ascended to human shape had no interest in lowly beasts like herself. They considered her kind beneath them.
Before the young man could utter another word, something long and scaly slithered across the stone floor, its claws scraping against the damp rock. A demonic lizard emerged from the darkness, its slick obsidian body glinting faintly in the low light of the cave. Its slitted yellow eyes narrowed as it spotted the injured man—but after a moment's pause, recognition flickered in its gaze.
It stopped, bowed its head low, and hissed, tongue flicking in and out of its mouth with reverence.
"Master…" it rasped, voice low and gravelly. "Allow this lowly one to rid this cave of pests."
Its glowing eyes drifted upward to where Xiao Zongzi clung to the ceiling, small and still, her legs curled defensively. The lizard's voice dripped with anticipation—an eagerness to kill, to serve, to please. It wasn't unusual. Demons of lower cultivation often groveled before those stronger than themselves, hoping to earn protection or favor. For a creature like the lizard, offering a blood sacrifice—a meal—was a convenient excuse to both flatter and feast.
But the young man didn't even glance at him. "No need," he said flatly, his tone calm but unmistakably final.
The lizard blinked, taken aback. His forked tongue flicked nervously.
"Surely," he pressed, "this lowly insect demon is not worthy enough to remain in the presence of a master such as yourself. Allow this one to—"
Crack.
The words died in his throat—literally—as the young man's hand shot out with shocking speed. His fingers coiled around the lizard's neck and lifted him effortlessly off the ground. His expression darkened, his eyes narrowing to murderous slits, red creeping into his pupil like a stain. The strength in his grip was immense, unrelenting.
"What did you say?" he growled. "Lowly?"
The lizard thrashed, tail lashing wildly, but it was no use. With a sickening snap, the man twisted his wrist, and the lizard's body fell limp, tongue flopping out between its sharp teeth. He dropped the corpse with a thud, wiping his hand on the hem of his already ruined shirt as though the creature had been nothing more than filth.
He turned back to Xiao Zongzi, his rage vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. A strange tenderness washed over his face, softening the edges of his jaw. He smiled—almost shyly now—and looked up at her with a glint of longing.
"See?" he said, voice quieter, almost gentle. "I'm strong now. I'm not a weak little boy anymore."
He took a step closer to where she clung, his eyes filled with something between hope and desperation. "Tell me you remember me now… please?"
Xiao Zongzi didn't answer.
She was frozen to the wall, every tiny hair on her abdomen standing on end. Her body trembled with instinctive fear. She had just watched him kill with a single motion, and though his voice was calm now, she could still feel the predator in him just beneath the surface. He insisted he knew her, swore they had met—but in her five hundred years of wandering this world, she had never laid eyes on a young man like him. Not one so radiant. Not one so terrifying.
She shook her head slowly, then turned and crawled into a narrow crack in the wall, her limbs skittering in a flurry of movement.
"Hey… don't hide from me," he said softly, stepping forward again. "I'm… lonely."
He reached out, his hand slipping into the crevice. His fingers brushed the soft patch of hairs on her abdomen, the contact so gentle it made her flinch. But it wasn't threatening—it was wistful, uncertain. A boy's touch, not a killer's.
"I was happy… when I saw you again," he murmured, his voice trailing into a silence heavy with something unsaid. "So I thought maybe…"
She heard the sadness there, in the gap between his words. Something in her chest loosened.
Slowly, she crawled out of the crevice, her limbs careful, her eyes still wary. Her mandibles clicked as she spoke, voice quiet but steady. "You must have mistaken me for someone else. This lowly one has never met you before."
Their eyes met—hers glinting like tiny black marbles, his glowing with restrained pain. For a moment, he simply stared at her, as if memorizing every detail of her tiny face.
Then his expression shifted. A bitter smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, not mocking—but wounded.
"I'm sorry," he said finally. "I must've confused you. The one I remember… she had grey hair."
He slumped down onto the cave floor with a heavy breath, leaning back against the wall. His mangled hand had finally finished healing—the bones popped as he flexed his fingers, the skin knitting seamlessly over muscle and sinew. He seemed fascinated by it for a moment, then looked back up at her.
"The name's Shudu," he said, his smile returning, this time a little brighter, a little less haunted. "What's yours?"
She tilted her head. "I… I don't have a name."
His eyes lit up.
"Then allow this venerable one to give you one," he said, pushing himself upright with sudden energy, his voice lifting with boyish charm. "From now on, your name will be… Xiao Zongzi."
Blah Blah Blah:
I'm so sorry I didn't mean to write a massacre. It's so unfortunate that I named her after food because I lack creativity. Ha ha ha. But do spiders not look like a little tied bundle of Zongzi's?