Yi Zhen woke to the smell of smoke and boiled rice. Morning light filtered through the cracks in the wooden walls of his hut, dust swirling in golden shafts. The locket around his neck was cold now, its earlier warmth gone—but it still pulsed faintly against his skin, like a second heartbeat.
The memory of the spirit woman haunted him. Her crimson armor. Her sorrow-filled gaze. And the words:
"Find me when the moon bleeds."
He didn't understand it fully, but he knew it wasn't a dream. The mist realm. The gate. The voices. It was all real.
He stepped out into the morning mist of Linhua Village. Chickens pecked the earth nearby, and a few early risers cast wary glances his way. Yi Zhen kept his head low. They'd always called him strange—now, he feared they might be right.
At the edge of the village, past the rice paddies, lay the old shrine. It hadn't been used in decades, but Yi Zhen often went there when he needed to think. Today, it felt like the only place that might have answers.
He lit a stick of incense and knelt. "If anyone's listening... what am I supposed to do?"
The wind shifted.
The incense flickered.
Then a presence.
Cold swept over him, and the locket flared to life. Before him, the air shimmered, then split—as if someone tore open the world. From that crack stepped a figure: a tall woman with long black hair, clad in blood-red armor. Her face was pale, her eyes glowing with golden fire.
Yi Zhen scrambled back. "You—!"
She knelt, placing her blade into the earth before her.
"I am Ling Xi, once Captain of the Crimson Valkyries. Betrayed by my sect. Slain by those I trusted. My spirit lingers because vengeance binds me."
The air around her darkened. Yi Zhen felt the weight of her hatred—it was suffocating.
"You summoned me," she said. "But to truly command my strength, you must first help me sever the chain that holds me here."
Yi Zhen stood slowly. "You want revenge."
She nodded. "The Sect of Falling Leaves. I trusted them. I bled for them. And they struck me down in the night, fearing my strength. My body was never honored. My name never cleared."
He hesitated. "If I help you... you'll lend me your power?"
She rose to her full height. "For one year, from the moment my wish is acknowledged, my blade shall be yours."
Yi Zhen glanced at his hands. What could a boy like him do against an entire sect?
But then the locket pulsed again—and power surged through his limbs. The world sharpened. He could hear the insects in the grass, the heartbeat of a bird in flight. Ling Xi was no illusion. She was real.
"Alright," he said quietly. "I'll help you."
The spirit bowed her head.
"Then let our contract be sealed."
The locket flared blinding white. Runes spun in the air around them. Yi Zhen's chest burned with new strength.
And from the shadows behind the shrine, something watched.
A crow, eyes glowing faintly blue, cawed once—and flew toward the mountains.
The world would soon know that Yi Zhen, the orphan, had begun to walk a path no mortal dared tread.
A path walked by the dead, guided by the wishes of the forgotten.
And his first step... was vengeance.