Cold night.
My breath misted as I followed him, bare feet silent on the dew-drenched stones. The path to the forbidden mountain twisted like a serpent, and the trees whispered secrets I couldn't quite catch.
He moved ahead, robes falling away with quiet grace. He stepped into the sacred pool, the water dark and still until it rippled around his waist. His bare back shimmered under the moonlight—pale skin etched with the tension of control. Then, as if summoned by my gaze, the shadow appeared.
A fox-shaped mark unfurled across his back.
In Chinese lore, fox spirits—huli jing—are seducers. Tricksters. Dangerous. I remembered the tales my mother whispered when I was small: never follow a shadow in the woods. Never answer to your name if it's called at night.
"Like what you see?" A voice at my ear—silky, mocking.
I spun. He was there. But he was still in the pool.
Two of him. The same face, the same eyes. But one cold as water, the other burning with mischief.
"You're always watching," the one beside me whispered, his hand rising to cup my chin. "Why not ask for more?"
His touch was wrong. Too cold. Too smooth. My body stiffened as panic bloomed in my chest.
"Let me show you what you really want."
His face leaned in—his breath wasn't warm. It was empty.
I stepped back but stumbled. My heel caught the root of a tree. I fell. My palms scraped the stone.
In the pool, the real Xie Lingyuan convulsed. Blood dripped from his mouth. His beads snapped, scattering like tiny bells across the rocks. A chime of death.
The shadow hissed. Its grip on me tightened. I struggled. My voice caught in my throat.
Then, his voice. Real. Fierce. Familiar.
"Get away from her!"
The chant burst from his lips, glowing script rushing out like flame. The shadow screamed as the blast of spirit energy struck it full in the chest. It shattered, like smoke torn by wind.
I dropped to my knees, body trembling, chest heaving. My skin felt invaded. Not just by the fox's touch, but by my own betrayal.
Because for one terrifying second, I had wanted it.
This dream… wasn't just a dream. It was the truth of something lurking inside me.
A warning. Or a test I had just barely passed.