The final day had arrived.
Mist clung to the village paths like breath frozen in time. Smoke from early fires curled lazily above rooftops. And beneath that calm, a slow-moving storm was gathering.
Shen Yi woke before dawn.
He didn't sleep much anymore. His body no longer demanded rest the way others did. Another side effect, perhaps, of the strange power sleeping within him. The villagers assumed he was just diligent. Only Su Yao and Yan Xue suspected the truth — that something inside him refused to sleep.
Or couldn't.
He sat on the wooden step outside the inn, watching the horizon shift from indigo to pale silver. The quiet made him think of that night in the plum grove — the way her voice had cut through him more than any blade ever could.
"You may end up hating yourself more than I ever could."
He believed her.
---
Elsewhere in the village, Yan Xue dressed in silence.
Her white inner robes clung snug against her frame, layered with the pale-blue half-armor of her bloodline — forged with spiritual steel and laced with cold qi. Her hair was tied high and neat, a jade pin holding it in place. On her belt, the sword glowed faintly — the same blade she had vowed never to draw in his presence unless she meant to end him.
She had come close.
And still, she hadn't done it.
Why?
That question had started whispering louder each day.
He had looked at her with such confused tenderness… it made her sick.
Worse, it made her remember the old days.
The real ones.
The ones before he bathed her clan in blood.
She hated that version of herself more than she hated him now.
---
By midmorning, the envoy had prepared his departure scroll.
It shimmered with sect markings, crimson and silver. One touch, and the transport talisman would activate, whisking them away from the village in a blink.
Shen Yi stood near the main shrine entrance, arms crossed, gaze unreadable.
Su Yao stood to his side, her presence quiet but firm.
"You don't have to say yes," she whispered.
"I know."
"You could vanish."
"I know."
"Then why stay?"
He looked at her, expression solemn. "Because the last time I ran… I destroyed someone."
Su Yao's throat tightened. "You don't know that."
"I don't have to. I saw it in her eyes."
---
The envoy finally approached.
"Time is up," he said. "Prepare yourself."
Shen Yi looked at Yan Xue, who stood just beyond the archway, not speaking.
He turned back to the envoy. "Where will I be taken?"
"Scarlet Immortal Sect. East Branch."
"For interrogation?"
"For evaluation."
Shen Yi didn't move.
The envoy frowned. "Refusal will be treated as resistance."
Then Yan Xue's voice rang out, cold and clear.
"I'll go too."
The envoy turned. "This matter does not concern you."
Yan Xue stepped forward, chin raised. "He's bound to me by blood and fate. If he loses control, I'm the only one who can stop him."
"He's not a weapon."
"No," she said. "He's worse. He's history that refuses to stay buried."
Shen Yi blinked slowly, stunned she would speak like that in public.
Su Yao looked between them both and sighed.
"I'll go as well," she said quietly. "As witness and mediator."
The envoy stared at them all, then let out a breath through his nose. "So be it."
---
As the scroll activated, light surged beneath their feet. The wind screamed briefly, and the village vanished into white mist.
When it cleared, they stood on stone — high, cold stone.
They had arrived at the Scarlet Immortal Sect.
---
The sect looked nothing like Shen Yi remembered — because he remembered nothing at all.
But something inside him reacted. His pulse quickened. His limbs stiffened, as if echoing memories buried too deep for words.
The gate loomed like a giant sword embedded in the mountainside. Crystalline spires rose from terraces carved into cliffs. Bridges hung between towers like silver threads. Cultivators in crimson and steel robes passed with glances full of sharp interest.
Eyes turned toward him — and narrowed.
Whispers spread fast.
"…It's him."
"…Returned after five years?"
"…Still alive?"
"…They said he killed…"
"…That technique…"
He didn't flinch.
But his jaw tightened.
---
An elder arrived moments later — tall, composed, wrapped in silver-trimmed robes. His presence alone made the air grow heavier.
"Shen Yi," he said. "Or what remains of him."
Su Yao bowed deeply. "Elder Han."
Yan Xue nodded, offering only the barest respect.
Shen Yi said nothing.
The elder studied him for a long moment. "You will come with me. The Sect Lord wishes to assess you himself."
Shen Yi hesitated, then nodded.
Yan Xue moved to follow.
But the elder raised a hand. "You are not summoned."
"I wasn't summoned when he killed my family either," she said coolly. "Didn't stop me then."
Elder Han stared at her — then turned.
"Very well. Follow if you dare."
---
They walked in silence up winding marble steps, deeper into the sect heart.
Yan Xue's eyes never left Shen Yi.
And Shen Yi's heart beat louder with each step.
Because with every corner turned, every hallway passed…
he felt something pressing closer.
A memory.
Not a thought.
A feeling.
Like he'd been here before.
Like blood had been spilled here once — not by accident, but by his own hand.
And the worst part?
It didn't feel like regret.
It felt like triumph.
---
They stopped at the foot of a wide jade staircase, its surface carved with ancient sect scripture — oaths of honor, sacrifice, and silence.
The elder turned to Shen Yi.
"From here, you walk alone."
Shen Yi looked up at the towering double doors at the top.
A strange pull ran through him. Not fear. Not anxiety.
Familiarity.
Like a home he didn't know he had.
---
"Wait."
Yan Xue's voice echoed softly in the hall.
Shen Yi turned. For a heartbeat, their eyes locked.
Then she said, flatly, "Don't lie."
His brow furrowed. "About what?"
"Anything. They'll try to twist your words. They'll ask about the skill inside you. Don't play games. Don't be clever."
"Why do you care?"
"I don't," she said quickly. "But if you lose control again…"
Her hand brushed the hilt at her waist.
"…I want to be the one who stops you."
She turned away before he could reply.
But he felt it.
A tremor in her hand. So slight. So fast.
If he hadn't been watching, he'd have missed it.
---
The chamber beyond the jade stairs was a sanctum of echoing space, lit by blue fire that floated without source. Murals lined the walls—depicting ancient wars, broken celestial beasts, and the founding of the Scarlet Immortal Sect.
At its center stood a single figure.
The Sect Lord.
His hair was white, not with age but cultivation. His skin flawless, robes ink-dark with streaks of gold. He didn't speak when Shen Yi entered. Just stared at him with unsettling calm.
"You don't remember this place," the Sect Lord said at last.
Shen Yi bowed slowly. "No."
"That's good."
He blinked. "Why?"
"Because remembering might destroy you."
The words hung like frost.
---
"You were gifted," the Sect Lord said, circling him. "Talented. Obsessed. You reached beyond your station… and found something no one else dared seek."
He stopped behind Shen Yi's shoulder.
"The Immortal Demon Skill."
Shen Yi's spine stiffened.
"How—"
The Sect Lord cut in, "We watched you die. We watched your body burn in crimson fire and fall from the cliff's edge. No one survives that."
"I did."
"Yes," the Sect Lord said. "And something else survived with you."
There was a silence.
Then the Sect Lord asked, "What do you feel when you see this?"
He waved a hand, and the blue fire twisted—
Revealing an illusion: a young Shen Yi, laughing among disciples. Behind him, a girl with soft eyes — Yan Xue — stealing glances when she thought no one saw.
Shen Yi stared.
And something clicked.
His hands clenched.
His breath caught.
Not memory.
Emotion.
Grief.
Longing.
Guilt.
All at once.
"I… I knew her."
"Yes," the Sect Lord said. "And you broke her."
---
Outside the chamber, Yan Xue stood frozen, her back pressed to the cold pillar.
She couldn't hear the words.
But she could feel it — something cracking inside her.
I should want him broken. I should want him destroyed.
So why does every piece of his pain hurt me too?
Su Yao walked up beside her. "It's started."
Yan Xue didn't respond.
Su Yao hesitated, then said softly, "Do you remember how he looked at you… back then?"
Yan Xue's lip twitched. "I remember everything."
"That's not what I meant."
"I know," she whispered.
And then, so quiet even Su Yao barely heard it—
"…He used to make me laugh."
---
Inside the chamber, the illusion faded.
Shen Yi looked up. "I don't want to run anymore."
The Sect Lord raised a brow. "Even knowing what might surface?"
"Yes."
"Then you will begin again," the Sect Lord said.
"How?"
"You will cultivate."
Shen Yi's brows drew together. "My path… it's not clean."
"It never was," the Sect Lord said. "But it is yours. Only you can walk it."
Then, more quietly:
"And if you lose yourself again… this time, we'll make sure you stay lost."
---
When Shen Yi emerged from the chamber, sweat clung to his back despite the cold.
Yan Xue waited.
They didn't speak.
He stopped beside her.
But instead of anger, her gaze held something else.
Resentment, yes.
But also pity.
"Did they give you a cage?"
"No," he said. "They gave me a key."
"To what?"
He looked up at the sky beyond the mountaintop.
And whispered:
"Myself."
---
Far away, in the depths of a ruined valley, a voice carved from smoke whispered into the ear of a sleeping beast.
"He awakens."
The beast stirred, its skin cracked with red veins. Eyes like molten coins slid open.
The voice smiled.
"Soon… we devour him again."
----
End of Chapter 8