The moon hung pale and thin over the horizon, its reflection trembling on the marsh waters below. Wind swept across the reeds, whispering like the voices of the dead.
Three figures moved through the mist — one limping, one steady, and one silent.
Lin Xuan felt the ache in his body with every step. The road out of the Xu Empire's capital was long and unforgiving, winding through dark forests and silent plains. Yu Ling led the way, her robe torn at the edges, her once-immaculate hair bound in a rough knot. Behind her, Tian Rou — the youngest disciple of Hidden Valley and now its last survivor — carried their meager supplies on his back, the weight of grief bending his shoulders more than any burden could.
No one spoke. Not since the whispers began.
"The cursed boy's father was slain."
"The empire's officials denied it."
"No corpse was seen, but the ashes bore the seal of the great sects."
The rumors spread like wildfire, murmured in taverns and markets, whispered by beggars and guards alike. No one knew where the story had begun — only that it carried the unmistakable weight of truth.
Lin Xuan had stopped asking. Every time he heard it, the words tore through him anew.
He clenched his fists. His father — a man who had never once raised his voice to the heavens — gone, his name sullied, his death made into rumor. No revenge. No justice. Only whispers.
The mist thickened as they climbed higher into the border mountains. At last, Yu Ling halted and glanced back. "We rest here," she said, her tone steady but distant.
They settled beneath a twisted pine, the roots like gnarled fingers breaking through stone. Tian Rou lit a small fire, its light flickering weakly against the encroaching dark. Lin Xuan stared into the flames, his eyes hollow.
After a while, Yu Ling broke the silence. "You heard the rumors too."
Lin Xuan didn't look up. "Everyone has."
"They were meant for you to hear," she said quietly. "Words like that don't spread by accident."
He turned his gaze to her. "You think the great sects released it?"
"I think," she said, meeting his eyes, "that someone wanted to see how you'd react. Whether you'd break… or burn."
Lin Xuan's jaw tightened. "Then let them watch."
For a moment, Yu Ling said nothing. The firelight painted her face in gold and shadow — her beauty sharp, her expression unreadable. Then she sighed softly. "You're too much like your father."
Lin Xuan's head jerked up. "You… knew him?"
"Not personally," she admitted. "But Elder Ji once spoke of a mortal who defied a sect envoy to protect his son. Said he was a fool… and a man worth remembering."
The words hit him harder than he expected. He turned away, unable to answer. Yu Ling looked at him for a long moment, then turned her gaze to the stars.
Above them, the night deepened — and with it, the first stirrings of danger.
Far from their camp, in the valley below, figures cloaked in blood-red light moved through the fog. Their armor bore the sigil of the Crimson Sect, yet their movements were soundless. No torches. No banners. Only shadows.
The leader, a tall man with a scar across his jaw, raised a hand. "No loud movements," he murmured. "The Misty Cloud woman is with him."
A younger disciple frowned. "Should we not strike while they're vulnerable?"
The scarred man's eyes flashed. "Do you want to die, boy? That woman once stood beneath Elder Ji himself. If we kill her without sanction, the sect will hang us before dawn. We follow orders — nothing more."
"But, Commander… if the boy—"
"Shut up." The man's voice was low and cold. "We don't hunt him. We observe. The elders say the heavens themselves have marked him. Until the decree changes, no one touches the cursed child."
They melted back into the mist like ghosts, leaving only the faint shimmer of killing intent behind.
Up on the ridge, Yu Ling's eyes snapped open.
She stood without a word, her hand drifting to the hilt of her sword. "We're being watched."
Lin Xuan's instincts screamed at once. His Qi flared involuntarily, lighting faint golden veins along his forearms.
"Crimson Sect?" he asked.
Yu Ling nodded. "They're near. But… they're not attacking. That worries me more."
She scanned the treeline, her senses spread like a web. "They're waiting for something."
"Orders?" Tian Rou whispered.
"Or confirmation," she replied grimly. "They want to know if we're worth the risk."
The fire sputtered, its flame shrinking to a dying ember. In the half-darkness, Lin Xuan's voice came low. "What do we do?"
Yu Ling hesitated — then lowered her sword.
"We walk into the storm."
He blinked. "What?"
She turned to face him fully. "They won't act without cause. If we move too quietly, they'll assume we're hiding something. But if we walk the open road… they'll hesitate."
Lin Xuan frowned. "You're gambling."
"I'm surviving," she said, eyes steady. "And if you want to live long enough to learn the truth about your father, you'll follow."
The words were like a slap, but he couldn't argue. Not when she was right.
They left before dawn, moving down the mountain road in silence. The air was heavy, the forest eerily quiet. Once or twice, Lin Xuan caught flashes of movement in the mist — the faint glint of metal, the whisper of breath. But no attack came.
By the third day, the shadows had thinned. The scent of iron and blood faded, replaced by pine and earth. Yu Ling finally exhaled. "They've pulled back."
Tian Rou looked back over his shoulder. "Why? Did they lose us?"
"No." Yu Ling's gaze was distant. "They're afraid."
"Afraid of what?" Lin Xuan asked.
Her eyes flicked to him — and for the first time, he saw uncertainty there. "Afraid of who I used to be."
They walked on until sunset, stopping by a quiet river that wound through a narrow gorge. The world seemed calmer there — birds sang, and the water reflected the sky in perfect stillness.
Lin Xuan sat by the river's edge, staring into his reflection. The faint gold glow beneath his skin pulsed with his heartbeat, stronger now, steadier.
He was changing — but he didn't understand how. Or why.
Behind him, Yu Ling approached, her steps soft on the grass. "You should rest."
He didn't turn. "Rest doesn't stop what's coming."
"You can't outrun fate," she said quietly.
"I can try."
There was silence, broken only by the water's murmur. Then Yu Ling sat beside him, her gaze following his into the river.
"When I first saw you," she said, "I thought you were a mistake. A mortal playing at power. Someone destined to be crushed by the path you chose."
He finally looked at her. "And now?"
Her lips curved faintly. "Now I think you're dangerous in a different way."
He frowned. "How so?"
"You make people believe," she said softly. "And belief is the sharpest blade of all."
The words lingered between them — not accusation, not praise, but something deeper. Something that neither of them was ready to name.
Before Lin Xuan could respond, the river rippled.
A faint hum filled the air — ancient, resonant. The water shimmered with light, patterns forming beneath the surface like runes awakening from sleep.
Yu Ling shot to her feet. "That's—!"
The ground trembled. A pulse of Qi erupted from beneath the river, sending waves crashing against the rocks. Lin Xuan staggered back, shielding Tian Rou behind him.
From the depths, a light rose — not golden, not crimson, but azure, cool and clear. It spun upward, forming a faint barrier that spread outward across the gorge like a living thing.
Yu Ling's eyes widened. "An ancient warding formation… dormant until now."
Lin Xuan blinked. "You mean we triggered it?"
"No." Her gaze swept the valley. "We were allowed to enter."
Before he could question further, a calm voice echoed from the trees.
"You've wandered far, fugitives of fate."
They turned. An old man stood at the edge of the gorge, his hair white as snow, his robe plain but immaculate. His eyes, though clouded with age, burned with quiet power.
Yu Ling bowed cautiously. "Senior."
The man smiled faintly. "You stand within the bounds of the Azure Veil Sect. Few find this place by chance. Fewer leave alive."
Tian Rou flinched, but Yu Ling didn't move. "We mean no harm. We only seek shelter."
The man's gaze passed over her — then lingered on Lin Xuan. "Ah. So it's you."
Lin Xuan stiffened. "You… know me?"
"I know what you carry," the man said. "And the storm that follows."
He turned toward the distant mountains, where the first flickers of crimson light marked the Crimson Sect's domain. "The wolves hunt, but they dare not strike. Not yet."
He looked back at them, his expression softening. "Come. The Azure Veil stands apart from the squabbles of the great sects. You may rest here for a time."
Yu Ling's eyes narrowed. "Why help us? Harboring fugitives will bring ruin."
The old man's smile deepened. "Because once, long ago, I too was hunted."
The wind shifted, carrying the scent of pine and rain. Lin Xuan exchanged a glance with Yu Ling — wary, uncertain — but in that moment, both understood the same thing.
The hunt wasn't over.
It had only just begun.
And somewhere in the mountains above, the Crimson Sect's commander stared at the faint azure glow on the horizon and muttered a curse.
"The fools think they're safe in the Azure Veil," he said darkly. "Let them rest. The next time we move… we'll bring the heavens down with us."