Ming was born a hunter on the mountain's peak, raised among the villagers who clung to life near the summit.
Her dream had always been simple, to bring wealth and prosperity back to the home of her birth. That dream carried her down the mountain, where she began her training. By chance, fortune guided her onto the path of cultivation.
And not only that. Early on, she found a rival, a young master her own age, who challenged her again and again, pushing her to train harder, fight fiercer.
It had been so long since then, she could hardly remember how she ended up marrying that idiot.
"Heh…"
To think her end would come on one mission from the clan head. The path of cultivation truly had no mercy.
"Maybe… next life…"
Her body smoldered, burned from within. Still, she dragged herself toward her husband's corpse, ready to rest at last in peace beside him.
Or so she thought.
"Well, would you look at that."
A head that had snapped backward should not speak.
Wu Han's body lay on the floor, face down, back arched like a broken bow.
By all rights, he should have been dead.
The calm in her heart curdled into confusion, then dissolved into despair.
Her vision blurred as she watched the most horrifying thing she had ever seen.
The body twitched. Limbs bent unnaturally, like a puppet on invisible strings.
One hand clamped the skull, then wrenched it back into place with a sickening twist.
"I underestimated you," Wu Han said, his voice calm. "To control that much excess power… cultivators are sure built different from knights or mages."
Ming's eyes widened in horror.
Wu Han stepped toward her, his wounds gone as his body glows.
His smile stretched across his face.
It was the most haunting smile she had ever seen.
"Now that you've shown potential, I suppose I should honor you."
Wu Han sat down. One hand clamped onto her husband's corpse, the other seized Ming by the head.
What followed was pain beyond anything she thought could exist in this world.
"AHHHHHHHHHH!"
Her scream tore her throat raw.
Memories flashed before her eyes: her father, her mother, her friends, the endless rivalry that became love, the journey that made her her.
Gone.
Outside, the clash of two elders had turned the courtyard into a wasteland.
The pond shattered, the gate splintered, the pavilion lay in ruins.
Both men bled, both staggered, neither gaining the upper hand.
Two cultivators locked in perfect balance, the worst possible outcome.
To push beyond this stalemate meant only one thing: fight to the death.
"Looks like your grandson is done for. Hear that scream? He squeals like a woman." Wu Wei sneered after cry echoed out.
It had taken longer than expected, but his men must have finally killed Wu Han.
"You filthy rat!" Wu Zhen roared, his voice shaking. "If it had been your son who gained a fortune, do you think I would have stooped so low as to assassinate our own blood? We are the Wu clan, damn you!"
Ambition had always burned in him, envy too, but in the end, they were still family.
Even after Wu Wei's father died, Wu Zhen had treated him as a rival, never an enemy.
To think that his reward for keeping faith, for playing fair, was the death of his entire line?
"I'LL KILL YOU!"
Power surged through Wu Zhen, his sword blazing with qi, waves of force rippling out like a tidal surge.
Wu Wei braced, holding steady.
All he had to do was buy time until his men joined him, and then they could crush Wu Zhen three against one.
And then, the door opened.
"Good, join me and finish this traitor!" Wu Wei barked.
But before he could act, a shard of ice flashed from the doorway.
He jerked his arm up, qi flaring just in time to block.
The strike didn't pierce him, but the sheer force shoved him back across the tiles.
"Ice?" Wu Zhen turned toward the door, then broke into a smile.
"Sorry, Grandfather. It took longer than expected."
Wu Han stepped out, a spear in his hand. Wu Wei's eyes widened, he knew that weapon!
It belonged to his man. Which meant both had fallen.
How!? Panic clawed at him.
Both were Fifth Stage Qi Condensation warriors, veterans of countless battles.
They might not have been the clan's strongest, but they were far from weak.
How could a young master have bested them both?
"My greatsword training turned out to be futile, so it took me longer to best them. I suppose I'll have to start over with a spear instead. I hope Grandfather isn't angry at this junior."
Wu Han admitted his flaw openly.
The greatsword had served well for muscle training, but in real combat he was far too inexperienced to wield it effectively.
The spear, however, felt more natural in his hands.
If strength was the goal, he could always train his body another way.
"Oh, no, no! Sword, spear, even a bow, anything you want, go for it! This grandpa approves!"
Wu Zhen's face shone with relief and pride.
His grandson had survived! He turned to Wu Wei, a cold smile cutting across his lips.
"Now it's two against one."
Panic flashed in Wu Wei's eyes.
Even if Wu Han was weaker than him, the smallest tip in balance was enough to give Wu Zhen the opening he needed to kill him.
The best option left was clear, escape.
Wu Wei spun on his heel and bolted for the door.
"Should we go after him?" Wu Han asked.
"No. But this matter will not go unpunished." Wu Zhen's smile lingered, until he suddenly stumbled and spat blood onto the ground.
"Grandfather!" Wu Han's face lit with worry, a flawless mask.
"It seems… my age has caught up to me. I only need rest." Wu Zhen's breath grew heavy. He and Wu Wei had fought as equals, but the truth remained: he was old.
His body no longer absorbed punishment as it once had.
"Rest, Grandfather. I'll take care of the cleanup." Wu Han's smile was soft as he helped his elder to bed.
"You've changed, child," Wu Zhen murmured once he lay down. "Your master must have taught you well. You've become the grandson I always hoped for. I wish… I could meet him someday."
He had always known Wu Han held potential.
Lazy, cowardly, yes, but those were signs of intelligence.
The boy had always picked his battles carefully, avoiding fights he couldn't win, living for comfort rather than glory.
But now, seeing him walking the path of power with conviction, Wu Zhen had never been happier.
His grandfather's eyes slipped shut, falling into deep slumber.
Too tired to question what Wu Han had truly done to the two who chased him, and that was for the best.
If he knew, he would never sleep so peacefully.
Wu Han descended the stairs and surveyed the wreckage of his house.
Broken beams, shattered tiles, sword marks across the walls.
He sighed.
There were still things to do...
Outside, the maids were already busy cleaning what they could, scrambling to restore order.
And since he was such a generous master, why not lend them a hand?
"Clean the place and keep out of sight while I'm gone. Got it?"
He turned toward the woman standing in the shadow of the hall. Her body was whole, though her clothes hung torn, pale skin revealed beneath the fabric.
Not the luminous white of Luo Lan, but a weaker shade, pale and dull like ash.
The woman bowed low. Her eyes were vacant, hollow voids stripped of thought.
Her voice was cold, flat, without spark or will. Only absolute obedience.
"Yes, Master," Ming said.
He had once claimed he couldn't make anything permanent with his current power.
But he never said he couldn't, if a sacrifice lay nearby to be used.
"Such a great husband," Wu Han laughed to himself, the sound low and cruel. "Helping his wife live on, HAHAHAHA!"
A husband's body, fueling the spell that bound his wife.
Using him to forge her into a permanent slave.
What a love story!