The purr and gasps of the bird yàos still hung in the air when a piercing shriek split the hall.
Not human—sharp, wild, the unmistakable cry of a hunting hawk. The sound sliced through the drunken haze, and the gathered bird yàos snapped to attention, feathers bristling in instinctive obedience.
Hàoyǔ and Mù Yēn clung to each other in gray panic, breath shallow, hearts trembling in unison. They had no idea that beyond these golden halls, their own home was quietly unraveling—threads tearing apart while they remained caged here in foreign talons.
The most beautiful of the yàos stepped forward, his jade plumage shimmering, gaze fixed like a predator choosing prey. The crowd shifted back at his presence, and with a slow, deliberate motion, his eyes raked over the two captives.
His lips curved into a smile that promised nothing kind.
"Back," a voice commanded, rich and clear.
The yàos shifted instantly, wings rustling as they parted like reeds before a storm. And then he came—long violet hair flowing like molten sunlight, velvet red glittering sharp gaze , his beauty almost inhuman. He looked less like a man and something more which can't be explained.
Hàoyǔ blinked, jaw slack. "...Why does he look like he's about to eat us?" he muttered.
Mù Yēn's breath faltered, his trembling frame pressing against Hàoyǔ's side. He felt the weight of that gaze pinning him like prey, his chest tightening, breath coming in shallow gasps.
The violet-haired leader stopped just short of them. His eyes lingered on Mù Yēn, his lips curling into a slow, dangerous smile.
"You. The fragile one. You'll do nicely."
Mù Yēn choked on air, clutching Hàoyǔ's sleeve like it was the last rope dangling over a cliff.
Meanwhile, another yào emerged—his feathers dark and glossy as a storm crow, grin flashing white. His gaze slid to Hàoyǔ, hungry and amused.
"And this bold little phoenix chick… I'll take him. He looks like fun."
Hàoyǔ bristled, trying for heroics despite the tremor in his voice. "Fun? What do you want from us?"
The violet-haired yào's smile deepened, tilting his head like a predator studying a rabbit that thought itself a wolf. "Only what every other guest has given. A night...a desire in this beautiful season . "
The word taste lingered like a feather dragged across skin. The yàos behind him chuckled, some licking their lips, their laughter like the flapping of wings before a hunt.
Mù Yēn's panic spiked. "No—no, I can't— t..thry really are asking that !" His breaths came fast, sharp, like he was drowning on dry land. His knuckles whitened as he clung to Hàoyǔ, desperate not to be torn away.
Hàoyǔ's spine stiffened. His legs shook, but still he shoved himself forward, glaring despite his jade eyes betraying fear. "We're not here for that. We came for work—serious work!"
The golden yào's laugh rang high, melodic, shameless. "Work?" He leaned closer, his breath warm against Mù Yēn's ear. "Then bring your 'work' to Huīxiě Lín Mí Yǐng. Let's see if your task survives the ritual."
The storm-feathered yào leaned low toward Hàoyǔ, his voice a husky whisper. "The ritual waits. You can walk… or be carried. It makes no difference to us."
The floor seemed to tilt beneath them, laughter and music from earlier gone, replaced with a chill that sank into their bones.
And as the yàos closed in, Hàoyǔ and Mù Yēn realized—this wasn't a game, nor a feast. The "ritual" was a cage, and they had already stepped inside it.