The scorched remains of a woman's form—reduced to nothing but ashes and charred bones—were gathered into a fire pit-like structure. Servants carried it carefully, their hands blistered and red from the heat of the smoldering stones beneath. The pit radiated a molten, almost alive warmth, but they did not dare put it down, inching toward the grand throne room of a woman draped in black.
Once at the center of the chamber, the bones began to shift, rearranging themselves with uncanny precision. Vertebrae snapped into place, limbs clicked together, and slowly, a complete skeleton stood upright, supported by an invisible will. Flesh then formed around it—tendons, sinews, and muscles knitting together over the skeletal frame. Maridans bloomed along her limbs as the spirit gradually filled her body.
A golden core glowed into existence in her abdomen, pulsing with energy, as her flesh sealed over the newly-formed muscles. Habits settled around her shoulders, completing the image: a fully reformed, living, and sentient being, reborn from ash.
From the throne above, Hong Yan's cold gaze swept the chamber. "Miren," she called, her voice echoing across the high-ceilinged room, "why have you visited Shi Yang again? The first time, I let it slide, issuing only a warning. But this… a second time? And you dare to blurt my secrets?"
Miren tilted her head, her golden core pulsing faintly beneath her robes. She stared at the woman before her, who lifted a goblet of rich, red wine, savoring the aroma. "I was just having fun," she replied lightly, a teasing smile on her lips. "And I wanted to rightfully inform him… that he will have a wonderful little descendant in this world. After all, wouldn't he want to know something so important?"
Her gaze flicked to Hong Yan's belly, round and seemingly two months along. "I'd suggest you mind your own business," she added casually, swirling the wine in her cup.
Hong Yan's voice remained unflinching. "This is my business. After all, I wouldn't want my niece—or nephew—growing up without knowing their father."
Miren's eyes glinted with amusement as she leaned against a pillar. "Don't get attached so soon," Hong Yan cautioned, her tone tinged with warning. "After all, they're just a… test I found would be fun. It's said that children carry aspects of both parents. So I wonder—might they inherit his ability to remove events from the future that don't suit him? Perhaps even make the world revolve around them like he does?"
A quiet weight hung in the room as Hong Yan considered this. "If they could… then I would raise them to lead my organization. They would be mine to guide, mine to shape. And perhaps, one day, to surpass even their father."
Miren's lips curved into a sly, almost predatory smile. "Then I suppose we'll see, won't we?"
The reborn Miren shifted, her golden core humming as her eyes caught the faint glint of the throne's gemstones. Outside, the winds of fate had begun to stir once more, and the chessboard of the world shifted imperceptibly—but inevitably—toward her designs.
Miren's fingers brushed lightly along her chin, her eyes gleaming with sly amusement. "But this still doesn't explain why you don't want me near him…" she murmured, her smile widening. "Or don't tell me—you only want him for yourself. He did look rather handsome, after all."
Hong Yan's gaze sharpened, the air around her throne dropping several degrees. "You don't know the amount of danger you're in," she said flatly. "After your little stunt during your first meeting with him, every future I've glimpsed with you near him ends the same—your death."
The weight of her words settled heavily in the chamber. "Just before I called your soul back," Hong Yan continued, her voice low and steady, "I saw him awakening a Wood Dao… one that would poison your qi flow, unravel your meridians, and cripple your cultivation beyond repair. You narrowly escaped only because fate twisted itself—your future diverted to… something else."
Her hand slid gently over her abdomen, the faint swell beneath her robes visible even in the dim light. "A vision of you caring for a child's training. That is the only reason you still draw breath."
Miren's laughter was soft and lilting, mocking yet strangely thoughtful. "Hmm… does that mean I'll have a child with him too?" she teased, her tone deliberately playful, though her eyes flickered with a hidden sharpness. "After all, if he wanted to kill me so much, that might be the only way poor little Miren would survive."
Hong Yan's expression darkened. The cold authority in her gaze silenced the hall. "Enough." Her voice struck like a blade, final and absolute. "Leave, Miren. I will not warn you again."
Miren's golden core pulsed once within her abdomen as if answering the command. Her lips curled into a defiant smile. With a flick of her sleeves, she turned, her laughter echoing faintly as she left the throne room, leaving behind only tension and the faint, lingering heat of the fire-pit stones that had birthed her back into the world.
—
The clinic was a wreck—splintered wood, scorched walls, and bloodied streaks where the woman's body had melted away. The smell of iron and ozone lingered heavy in the air.
Shi Yang exhaled slowly, his spirit body fully back in his flesh. A dull ache pulsed behind his eyes, exhaustion from overexertion threatening to drag him under. Still, his steps were steady as he approached the puddle of gore.
He crouched, unbothered by the stench, and reached into the viscous remains. His fingers closed around something hard and smooth. With a sharp tug, he lifted a glimmering storage ring, slick with blood.
The crimson threads of his vulture flicked out, and the rain poured, wiping the gore clean until the ring gleamed faintly under the lantern light. Shi Yang turned it over in his palm, his expression unreadable. "Three hundred spirit stones," he murmured, lips curving faintly. "She wasn't lying. And they're each mid-grade. This… is worth more than six thousand gold."
Xiu Mei let out a long breath and let her hammer fall. The weapon dissolved into motes of water essence, fading into nothing. Her shoulders slumped as she rubbed her arms, still trembling from the clash. "That wasn't just any intruder," she muttered, her gaze flicking toward Shi Yang. "It looked like you knew her, Uncle Shi. Was she a client… or, if my gut's right, an enforcer?"
Shi Yang gave a slow nod. "She, or they, were one of the enforcers I mentioned back at the Dreamers Pavilion. It seems they came to test us again."
He slipped the storage ring onto his finger. With a thought, a spirit stone shimmered into his palm. He weighed it briefly, then sat cross-legged on the ruined floorboards, pressing the cool stone to his chest. The glow seeped into him, his breath settling into rhythm as the wild turbulence of his qi calmed. A faint smile tugged at his lips. "Now this is proper cultivation. And to think—I can relax, knowing this came from an enemy."
When his breathing steadied, Shi Yang flicked two spirit stones across the room. They landed neatly before Xiu Mei and Han Jie. "Go on. Take them. Better to recover now. The auction won't wait for us."
Han Jie caught hers with stiff fingers, clutching it close. She wanted to ask him why he wasn't fazed that the attacker was a woman, and a part of her wanted to know what her words before she was interrupted were. Congratulations on what? On reaching the late stages of the Refinement Realm? Or is it something else?
She sighed as she lowered herself into meditation.
Xiu Mei followed suit, though her eyes lingered on Shi Yang a moment longer before she focused on her own recovery. The quiet of cultivation filled the ruined clinic, broken only by the faint hum of qi seeping into flesh and bone.
At length, they rose. The worst of the shakiness had faded from their limbs. Shi Yang brushed blood and soot from his robes, while Xiu Mei gathered shards of broken wood into a pile near the door. Han Jie washed her hands and face with a basin of water, her movements deliberate, as if to wipe away the memory of battle along with the grime.
Little Yoke padded toward the darkened corner where the body of the homeless man lay. Its nose twitched, teeth bared as it leaned down to bite.
"Yoke—no!" Xiu Mei snapped, rushing forward. She pulled the cub back by the scruff, lifting it despite its low growl. "That one's not food."
The beast whimpered, struggling until it finally went limp in her arms. She stroked its head firmly. "Listen to me. You can't eat people."
Shi Yang glanced over, a trace of amusement in his tired eyes. "If you keep coddling him, he'll grow spoiled."
"Better spoiled than a man-eater," Xiu Mei shot back, hugging the cub against her chest.
Shi Yang chuckled, then stretched his stiff shoulders. His expression hardened as his gaze swept the bloody ruin one last time. "Enough. We've wasted too much time here. Clean what you can. We'll talk about our eccentric enforcer, and how to deal with this body after the auction. For now—time wasted on corpses is time wasted on opportunity."