Lin Yuehua POV
The golden light hit me like a physical wall.
I flew backward, crashing into someone in the crowd. My ears rang. My eyes couldn't focus. Everything smelled like lightning and burning incense.
When my vision cleared, I saw something impossible.
Magistrate Shen stood between me and the shadow demon, but he wasn't the same man who'd sat behind his desk two minutes ago. Golden light poured from his body like he'd swallowed the sun. His eyes glowed with power that made my bones vibrate. And in his hand—a sword made of pure fire floated, humming with energy that felt older than the mountains.
The useless Flower Vase Magistrate just created a weapon out of nothing.
"Stay back," he said, his voice carrying a tone I'd never heard before. Command. Authority. Danger.
The shadow demon laughed, its voice scraping my ears like broken glass. "Ten years hiding among cattle, Faceless Sword. Was it worth it? Did you enjoy pretending to be weak?"
Faceless Sword. That name triggered something in my memory—whispers from traveling merchants about a legendary cultivator who hunted demons alone. Who had no sect. Who disappeared years ago after the cultivation world put a bounty on his head.
That couldn't be Magistrate Shen. It couldn't.
"Your master made a mistake sending you," Shen said calmly. Too calmly. Like threatening demons was something he did every day. "Tell Wei Zichen that Willow Creek is under my protection. If he wants me, he comes himself."
The demon's red eyes narrowed. "Master Wei doesn't negotiate with rogue cultivators. He takes what he wants. And what he wants is your pure Golden Core ripped from your chest."
My stomach turned. Golden Core. I'd read about those in old books—the spiritual heart that gave cultivators their power. Ripping one out meant death.
"He can try," Shen said. Then he moved.
I couldn't even see it. One second he stood in front of me. The next second he was behind the demon, his fire sword slicing through shadow like it was paper.
The demon screamed—a sound that made everyone in the crowd clap their hands over their ears. Black blood sprayed across the ground, sizzling and burning holes in the dirt.
But the demon wasn't finished. It split into three shadows, attacking from different directions. Shen spun, his sword becoming a wheel of flame. He blocked two attacks and dodged the third, moving faster than any human could.
Because he wasn't human. Not really. He was something else. Something that had been living in Willow Creek for five years, pretending to be ordinary.
Pretending to be someone I could hate.
The fight lasted maybe thirty seconds. To me it felt like hours. Shen moved like violence was a dance he'd practiced a thousand times. The demon was strong—I could feel its power pressing against my skin like heat from a forge—but Shen was stronger.
His final strike cut all three shadows at once. The demon's scream cut off as its body dissolved into black smoke that smelled like rotten eggs.
Silence fell over the town gate.
Shen stood there, breathing hard, golden light slowly fading from his skin. The fire sword disappeared. He looked normal again—except for his eyes. His eyes still held that terrible power, like looking into a storm.
He turned to face the crowd. Fifty people stared at him with identical expressions: fear and shock.
"Everyone return to your homes," he said quietly. "Lock your doors. Don't come out until I give the all-clear."
Nobody moved. We were too stunned.
"Now!" His voice cracked like a whip, and that got us moving. People scattered, running back into town, whispering frantically.
I tried to follow, but my legs wouldn't work. I stood frozen, staring at the man I thought I knew.
Shen walked toward me, and I flinched. Actually flinched. From the Flower Vase Magistrate who I'd called useless a thousand times.
Hurt flashed across his face, but he stopped several feet away, giving me space.
"Yuehua—"
"Don't." My voice came out harsh. "Don't say my name like we're friends. Like you didn't just—what even was that? What are you?"
"It's complicated."
"Complicated?" I laughed, and it sounded slightly crazy even to me. "You just fought a demon made of shadows with a sword made of fire! That's not complicated—that's impossible!"
"Demons are real," he said simply. "Cultivators are real. I'm one of them. I've been protecting this town for five years from threats you never knew existed."
My mind spun. "My father. Three years ago. You said bandits killed him."
Shen's jaw tightened. "It wasn't bandits."
"It was a demon." The words tasted like ash in my mouth. "And you knew. You've always known."
"Yes."
"Did you kill it?" I demanded. "The thing that murdered my father?"
"Yes. It took me six months to track it down, but yes. I burned it until nothing remained."
I should have felt relief. Satisfaction. Something. Instead, I just felt hollow.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because knowing makes you a target," he said. "The demon world has rules. Mortals who know too much disappear. I kept you in the dark to keep you alive."
"By letting me think you were useless? By letting me hate you?"
"Yes." His voice cracked slightly. "Better you hate me safely than love me and die."
The words hit me like a slap. Love. That was a weird word to use. We barely tolerated each other.
Except... I thought about all the times my caravans had been attacked and somehow always escaped with minimal damage. The way bandits always seemed to vanish before soldiers arrived. How my business kept getting anonymous tips about safe routes.
"You've been protecting my caravans," I whispered. "This whole time. That's why the attacks never fully succeed."
"I do what I can," he said. "But I can't be everywhere. And now that Wei Zichen knows where I am..." He looked toward the horizon, where dark clouds were gathering despite the morning sun. "Everything's about to get worse."
"Who is Wei Zichen?"
"The leader of Heavenly Sword Sect. One of the nine most powerful cultivators in the empire." Shen met my eyes. "He wants my Golden Core to break through to the next cultivation level. He'll burn this entire town to get it."
My blood ran cold. "How long do we have?"
"Maybe a week. Maybe less. That demon was a scout. The real attack is coming."
A week to prepare for something I didn't understand. A week before demons and cultivators turned Willow Creek into a battlefield.
"What do we do?" I asked.
"You evacuate. Take everyone you can and run south. I'll hold them off—"
"No." The word came out harder than I intended. "This is my home. My father died protecting it from demons, apparently. I'm not running."
"Yuehua, you can't fight them. You're not a cultivator. You don't have spiritual roots—"
"Then teach me something else!" I grabbed his sleeve, feeling desperate and angry and terrified all at once. "You said my father died protecting something important. What was it?"
Shen hesitated, conflict clear on his face.
"Tell me," I demanded. "I deserve to know what he died for."
He took a deep breath. "Your father bought a jade pendant at a night market. He thought it was just valuable. It wasn't. It was a demon anchor—an artifact that allowed a powerful demon to cross into our world. When he realized what it was, he tried to destroy it. The demon killed him before he could finish."
"Where's the pendant now?"
"I destroyed it. Completely. It took every bit of power I had at the time."
I processed this. My father hadn't just died in a random attack. He'd died fighting evil, trying to save everyone.
Just like Shen had been doing for years.
"I've been so wrong about you," I said quietly.
"You weren't wrong. I am useless at being a normal magistrate. I'm terrible at paperwork. I let criminals escape because I'm too busy fighting demons." He smiled sadly. "Flower Vase Magistrate is pretty accurate, actually."
"It's not." I surprised myself by meaning it. "A flower vase just looks pretty. You save lives."
Before he could respond, Xu Tian—the constable chief—came running up, out of breath.
"Sir! We have a problem!"
"Another demon?" Shen asked, already tensing.
"Worse. Cultivators. From Heavenly Sword Sect." Xu Tian pointed toward the main road. "Three of them just entered town. They say they're here to 'investigate demonic activity.' They're asking everyone about the Faceless Sword."
Shen's face went pale. "Already? How did they get here so fast?"
"What does it mean?" I asked.
"It means Wei Zichen didn't send a scout. He sent an assassin to flush me out." Shen's hands clenched into fists. "And now his people are here to finish the job. They'll tear this town apart looking for me."
"So we hide you—"
"They have spiritual sense. They can detect cultivation power within a mile. If I stay in town, they'll find me in hours." He looked at me with something that might have been regret. "I have to leave."
"No!" The word burst out before I could stop it. "You can't just abandon us!"
"If I stay, everyone dies when we fight. If I leave, maybe Wei Zichen will follow me instead of destroying Willow Creek."
"Or maybe he'll destroy it anyway looking for clues about where you went!" I was practically yelling now. "You think he'll just trust that you're really gone?"
Shen opened his mouth. Closed it. He had no answer.
"Magistrate!" A new voice called. We turned to see a woman in elegant blue robes walking toward us. She was beautiful in an otherworldly way—too perfect, like a painting come to life. Power radiated from her like cold wind.
A cultivator.
"Lan Meiying," Shen said quietly. "One of Wei Zichen's top disciples."
The woman smiled, and it didn't reach her eyes. "Magistrate Shen Qinghe. What an interesting name. Did you know there's a wanted criminal with the exact same name? The Faceless Sword. Rogue cultivator. Bounty of one million gold pieces." Her eyes glowed with spiritual light. "Quite the coincidence."
She raised her hand, and a sword made of ice materialized in her palm.
"Now," she said sweetly, "let's see if you bleed like a normal magistrate should."