In the cold depths of the Abyss,
Within a dark pavilion, a handsome man sat at ease, turning the white ribbon tied around his wrist.
When word first reached him of the Crown Prince's return, he wished to see for himself
what sort of "crown prince" Heaven had chosen.
Yet he had not expected someone so foolish, so fragile.
His fingers stilled on the ribbon.
Wujiu scoffed.
"He would make a fine puppet."
"Xuan Li."
A tall figure stood a step behind him. Clad in dark robes, Xuan Li remained composed, his gaze steady and unreadable.
As the Demon King's personal aide, he was counted among the strongest in the Abyss.
"Delay the plan. With him in hand, things will proceed more smoothly."
Xuan Li bowed slightly and stepped back.
While far away, in the Celestial Heaven—
Shen Huaiyu sat within his quiet pavilion, reading the drifting scrolls in peaceful silence.
The golden characters glowed faintly in the air before him, dissolving one by one as he finished each line.
A cool breeze stirred the gauze curtains, carrying with it the faint scent of lotus from the distant ponds.
Everything was calm.
Then—
A low, indistinct murmur brushed against his senses.
His hand paused mid-turn.
The scroll before him flickered.
Shen Huaiyu lifted his gaze and looked around, but the pavilion remained empty. No official presence. No spiritual transmission. The air was clear.
The murmur came again.
Faint. Hazy. Almost like a whisper
For a brief moment, the air around him grew colder, when suddenly everything came back in place with a soft knock at the door.
Shen Huaiyu looked towards the door .
"Your Highness" Qing Ling's voice echoed from outside.
"Enter"
Qing Ling stepped inside, her movements light and familiar. She stopped three steps away and bowed.
"Your Highness, did you call for me?"
Shen Huaiyu did not answer immediately.
His gaze remained lowered, as though he were still listening to something far away.
Qing Ling noticed the slight stillness in his posture.
"Your Highness?" she called gently. "Is something the matter?"
Huaiyu blinked and returned to his senses.
"Ah," he said softly. "It is nothing."
He straightened slightly, his expression composed once more.
"I wished to ask about the recent case in Yunhe Town."
Qing Ling nodded.
With a faint shimmer, a scroll materialized beside her.
She lifted her hand, and the scroll slowly unfurled in the air.
"There have been reports of a resentment spirit," she said.
"It appears only at night. The report claims that it hums a song before revealing itself."
"After that, it knocks on doors, asking, 'Is he here?' If no one answers, it grows agitated and begins striking the doors repeatedly."
"So far, it has only wandered through the market streets and has not harmed anyone directly."
Huaiyu nodded.
"Your Highness, forgive my boldness, but are you going to the mortal realm again?" Qing Ling asked calmly, though concern lingered in her eyes.
"Yes. As Crown Prince of Heaven, I am not someone who should remain idle.
Qing Ling parted her lips as if to speak, but after a brief pause, she lowered her gaze and bowed.
"As you wish, Your Highness."
Huaiyu inclined his head slightly. "I will depart shortly."
"Which official will accompany you this time?" She asked before recording it in her green jade.
Huaiyu rose from his seat, his robes settling gracefully around him as he walked toward the door. "No one."
She looked up at him, a faint crease forming between her brows. "Your High—"
Before she could complete her sentence.
He glanced back at her. "Do not worry. I will remain in contact." he said with a reassuring smile.
The door closed softly behind him. Qing Ling let out a faint sigh. "Why does Your Highness always punish himself for things he did not do?" she murmured, already recording the departure.
In the mortal realm.
Red lanterns hung above the street, glowing like small suns in the dark.
Vendors called out loudly, trying to sell buns, sugar cakes, and silk ribbons.
Laughter mixed with the sound of wooden carts rolling over stone.
Shen Huaiyu stepped onto the stone path.
He adjusted his sleeves. His divine aura had already been concealed.
As the night deepened, everyone on the street began packing up, every house locking their doors, the streets slowly growing empty.
It was hard to believe the street had been lively only moments ago.
A strong wind blew. One by one, the lanterns flickered out.
In the quiet, a soft humming drifted through the street.
Shen Huaiyu stood beside a closed stall, his gaze lifting slightly.
The sound was faint. Almost sorrowful.
The sound did not seem to come from any direction. It floated through the empty market like mist.
"Hmm… hmm… hm…"
A tune without words.
Huaiyu's gaze moved down the dark street.
The humming continued.
"Hmm… hmm…"
Somewhere in the distance, wood creaked.
Then—
Knock.
Huaiyu's eyes stilled.
Knock. Knock.
A quiet voice followed.
"Is he here?"
The sound came from the end of the market road.
A pale figure stood with her beneath a broken lantern.
Her clothes were scorched and ragged, yet beneath the ashes faint red patterns of a wedding robe still lingered.
Shen Huaiyu stepped forward from the shadows and slowly approached her, the ribbon Yue Ying already coiled and ready in his hand.
But in contrast, his voice was gentle and soft.
"Who are you looking for?" he asked.
The spirit flinched at the sudden intrusion. Slowly, she turned her head toward Shen Huaiyu.
Shen Huaiyu's eyes wavered at what he saw.
His hands loosened slightly from Yue Ying.
Her eyes looked as though they had been scorched out.
They were like hollow black pits, with blood slowly dripping from them.
Her face, unlike her clothes, was covered with old burn marks.
What had she gone through?
She was surrounded by dark resentment.
"Where is he?" she asked roughly.
Shen Huaiyu only looked at the hollow spirit with gentle eyes.
"Where is he?" she repeated, slowly stepping forward, her voice growing more desperate.
Suddenly, she began to sob.
"Where… is he…?"
Her cries grew louder and louder, the sound sharp and mournful, until it seemed to echo through the entire street.
The resentment around her thickened, stirring the wind and rattling the wooden stalls.
Shen Huaiyu raised his hand calmly.
A thin celestial talisman slipped between his fingers.
With a flick of his wrist, several pale talismans scattered into the night, drifting like falling feathers before settling quietly upon rooftops and doorframes.
Soft golden light spread from the inscriptions.
The spell was a Celestial Slumber Seal, a gentle blessing meant to deepen the sleep of mortals so that none would awaken to the disturbance of wandering spirits.
The houses fell silent.
Only the crying spirit remained.
"You should calm down," Shen Huaiyu said softly.
But the spirit did not stop.
Her sobbing twisted into rage. The burn-scarred face contorted, and the resentment surrounding her grew heavier, darker.
With a sudden shriek, she lunged toward him.
Huaiyu moved lightly to the side.
The attack missed him completely.
Before she could strike again, the silver ribbon Yue Ying flashed through the air.
But before it could reach her, the ribbon suddenly faltered like its master who had already fallen to his knees, one hand clenching tightly against them.
The old wound was acting up.
Seeing this perfect moment, the spirit rushed toward Shen Huaiyu.
Then suddenly—
A soft melody drifted through the night.
The tune was gentle and soothing, carrying a strange sweetness.
Shen Huaiyu slowly raised his head.
Under the bright moonlight, he saw a man sitting on the edge of a roof.
He was playing a simple wooden flute, a faint black aura coiling around it in his hand.
The music spread quietly through the empty street.
The spirit froze in place.
The resentment surrounding her weakened, trembling as if suppressed by the melody.
The man lowered the flute.
Then he jumped down lightly from the roof, landing on the ground without the slightest sound.
Unhurried, he began walking toward them.
"We meet again," a calm, restrained voice echoed.
His eyes, sharp like a predator's, fixed on Huaiyu.
"Strange, isn't it?" he continued lightly. "We always seem to meet in the same situation."
He extended a hand toward Shen Huaiyu.
Behind his gentle smile, Shen Huaiyu's hands tightened with pain.
After a brief pause, he slowly loosened his grip.
He accepted the offered hand and rose to his feet.
"Indeed," Huaiyu replied softly. "It is rather amusing that we always meet when I am at my most fragile state."
The man was dressed in dark robes. For a brief moment, his eyes glowed red.
No wonder.
He was the mighty King of the Abyss,
the Dark Bloom of the Endless Night.
Xie Wushen.
"I must say," Xie Wujiu remarked lazily, glancing toward the spirit, "you could have captured this weak one quite easily."
He pointed toward the spirit.
The resentment spirit had already grown weak. She knelt on the ground, her head lowered, long hair falling over her face.
"But you seem to hesitate," he added.
Shen Huaiyu's gaze lingered on the trembling spirit.
"She is bound by a curse," he said quietly.
Huaiyu slowly raised his hand. A faint glow gathered at his fingertips, gentle celestial light spreading like ripples in water.
The light drifted toward the spirit.
Something within her sleeve trembled.
A small Soulbinding Sachet slipped free and fell onto the stone street with a soft sound.
Dark mist seeped from the pouch, curling faintly into the night air.