After Hyun Yeol tragically killed Hae-ju, Xian Lian remained trapped inside the hidden safe room. The world outside had descended into chaos, but she remained frozen within the confines of her small, stifling space. Hours blurred together, her sense of time unraveling with each shallow breath.
She woke in silence—thick, oppressive, unnatural.
"Nian..." Xian Lian's whisper barely escaped her cracked lips. Her trembling fingers traced the cold stone, nails scraping uselessly against its rough surface. Panic surged like wildfire, her breath turning erratic. The walls seemed to close in, pressing against her, the air growing dense and unmoving. Her chest tightened, ribs aching under the crushing weight of fear.
She kicked the wall, harder this time. Nothing.
Why won't it open?
A sob tore from her throat. She clawed at the wooden door, yanking the handle with raw desperation, but it refused to budge. The darkness wrapped around her like a vice, smothering. She pounded the door with her fists, voice breaking.
"Please... please...!"
The choking stillness made every breath a struggle, until—finally—a faint creak echoed through the silence. The door, impossibly, began to open.
A young boy stood in the doorway, his wide eyes flickering with surprise and concern. His features were blurred by the dim light, but the warmth in his expression cut through the icy terror gripping her heart.
Xian Lian's eyes widened, her breath caught in her throat. Was this a dream, a hallucination? Her heart pounded as she reached out, fingers trembling. Could he really be there, or was her mind playing tricks on her?
Before she could think, her body moved on instinct. She lunged forward, throwing her arms around him, clinging to the warmth of another human presence. Her sobs wracked her frail frame, her hands trembling against the fabric of his clothes. The boy stiffened, his arms hovering awkwardly before, hesitantly, he returned the embrace.
"Hey... it's okay," he said, his voice uncertain but kind. "You're safe now."
"Zhiyong!" A voice called from the distance, making them both jolt.
Zhiyong gently pulled away, offering her a reassuring smile. "Wait here. I'll be right back."
Xian Lian's fingers twitched, the urge to hold onto him overwhelming. Her legs refused to move, her body anchored by fear. She barely nodded.
Zhiyong turned and hurried toward the source of the voice. "Sifu!"
Master Gin TianXue turned slowly, his sharp gaze settling on the boy. "Where did you go?" he asked, his voice firm but not unkind.
Zhiyong hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. "I heard something. I... I just checked it out."
Master Gin exhaled sharply, the sound like the release of a long-held breath. His sword slid into its sheath with a quiet hiss. His eyes shifted past Zhiyong, landing on Xian Lian. She stood still, her body rigid, a storm of fear and defiance playing across her face. His lips pressed into a thin, unreadable line.
"Some things, once planted, cannot be torn from the earth," Master Gin murmured, his voice low and almost regretful. "To keep the peace, sometimes you must leave the innocent in the dark."
Xian Lian's stomach twisted. She was tired of silence. Tired of being abandoned. She took a step forward, her voice raw with desperation. "Take me with you!"
Master Gin's expression didn't change. He had seen too many faces like hers—children left in the wreckage of war. Starving, terrified, clinging to anything that offered safety. Some had begged. Others had screamed. And still, he had walked away.
Because he had learned the truth: he could not save them all.
Once, long ago, he had broken that rule. For a single boy—one with too much light, too much fire in his soul. A boy who should have been free. Anke.
Anke had wanted nothing more than to erase the blood in his veins, to live as a commoner, far from the weight of a name that meant nothing but suffering. But that choice had never been his. And in the end, Gin TianXue had failed him.
His jaw tightened. He would not fail another.
Master Gin's expression didn't waver. "No," he said, his voice as cold and final as a steel blade. "I don't take children."
Zhiyong flinched at the words, as if they had struck him. His hands curled into fists, his voice raw with urgency. "Sifu, we can't just leave her! She's just like I was—alone, lost. You gave me a chance. Don't turn your back on her now."
Master Gin exhaled slowly, about to speak—until something glinted in the dim light.
His eyes narrowed.
The ornament on her wrist.
His breath stilled.
The serpent-eating-crown pendant.
Recognition flickered in his face, a shadow of something old and buried. His lips parted slightly, and for the briefest moment, his hardened exterior cracked.
But just as quickly, he masked it. His expression shuttered, his grip tightening around the hilt of his sword as if warding off ghosts.
"Zhiyong..." Master Gin said, his voice cold but with a begrudging sense of compassion. "Make sure she doesn't fall behind."
Zhiyong's face lit up with relief. His eyes sparkled with determination, and a grin spread across his face. "I'm Li Zhiyong!" he declared, his enthusiasm infectious. "From now on, we've got each other's backs."
Xian Lian's heart thundered in her chest, tears brimming in her eyes. She tried to force a smile, but it faltered, her voice trembling with emotion as she whispered, "I'm Xian Lian." The name felt strange on her tongue, like an old memory she was trying to remember, both unfamiliar and achingly close.
Zhiyong grabbed her hand, his grip warm and reassuring. "Let's go! Sifu's actually pretty cool! He taught me how to fight. He'll teach you too. We'll make sure you're strong."
As they walked away, Xian Lian's gaze lingered on the house she had once called home. The place where her laughter had echoed through the halls, where her parents' voices had once filled the air, now felt distant. Foreign.
The walls, once so familiar, stood cold and unwelcoming—like a betrayal unspoken. The air, once filled with the comforting scent of her mother's cooking and her father's presence, now reeked of dust. The silence in the house was oppressive, a hollow reminder of everything lost.
Her parents were gone. The weight of that truth sank deep in her chest, suffocating her with its finality. The house, once a sanctuary, was now a tomb for all that had been lost. What was once hers was now just a shell—empty and lifeless. The home had died with them.
And so, she turned away from it.
Xian Lian didn't look back. She couldn't. The home she had once known, the warmth that had once cradled her, was gone. What remained was an empty shell, a whisper of the past that no longer belonged to her.
Eight years later, she found another.
A gentle voice pulled her from her thoughts. "Xian Lian, drink this." Zhiyong held out a small flask, his concern evident in his eyes.
She accepted it without hesitation, letting the warmth of the liquid spread through her, chasing away the chill that had settled deep in her chest. "Thanks, Zhi Gege," she murmured, handing it back with a small, grateful smile.
Zhiyong smiled in return, but the weight of the day lingered in his gaze. Xian Lian hesitated for a moment before reaching into the folds of her robe, her fingers brushing against the cool metal of the pendant her mother had left her. Slowly, she pulled it out and held it toward him.
Zhiyong blinked, caught off guard. "What's this?"
She smiled softly, her voice steady despite the emotions swirling within her. "Zhi Gege, my mother treasured this more than anything. And now, I want you to have it."
Zhiyong's expression shifted, the teasing glint in his eyes replaced by something deeper. "Why?"
"Because if it weren't for you," she admitted, "I wouldn't have made it this far."
For a moment, he said nothing. Then, with a quiet chuckle, he took the pendant, his fingers lingering over the intricate details. "I'll cherish it," he said, his voice quieter now. "Like it's you."
A flush crept up Xian Lian's neck, but she only nodded.
Zhiyong glanced upward, noticing the heavy clouds rolling in. "Sifu says we'll head to the next village tomorrow," he remarked, tilting his head as the first drops of rain kissed his skin. "Looks like we're in for a storm tonight."
Xian Lian followed his gaze, her brow furrowing. "It does seem that way."
"We'll rest here for the night," Zhiyong assured her, his smile easy despite the exhaustion in his voice. "By morning, it'll pass."
From across the camp, Master Gin's voice rang out, firm but not unkind. "Get the firewood. We'll need it for dinner."
Without hesitation, Xian Lian and Zhiyong scrambled to their feet. "Yes, Sifu!" they chimed in unison, eager to shake off the heaviness of the day.
Night fell quickly, wrapping the camp in its quiet embrace. After dinner, Xian Lian drifted into sleep almost immediately, exhaustion pulling her under. But Zhiyong remained awake, his eyes trained on the darkness beyond the fire's reach. The only sound was the slow, deliberate scrape of Master Gin's blade against a whetstone.
Zhiyong broke the silence. "Sifu… why don't we just head to the village now? We'd get food and rest before tomorrow. Wouldn't that be easier?"
Master Gin's hand stilled. His expression darkened. "You can't trust the nobles there, Zhiyong."
Zhiyong frowned. "But Aunt Li Ruqi is there." His voice held a thread of hope.
Master Gin's eyes turned steely. "You need to keep Xian Lian safe. Get her to the village. But don't expect the welcome you think."
Zhiyong's unease deepened. "Sifu, what's going on?"
Before Master Gin could answer, a chill ran down Zhiyong's spine. His instincts flared. Something was wrong.
The wind shifted. The fire crackled.
"Sifu!" Zhiyong shot to his feet, his heart hammering.
Master Gin's gaze snapped to the darkness. His voice was a blade, sharp and dangerous.
"Who's there?"
A group of assassins in black emerged from the shadows, their swords gleaming menacingly. Chaos broke out immediately. Zhiyong's instincts kicked in. He grabbed Xian Lian's hand and yanked her out of the hut, pushing her forward as they ran into the torrential rain.
"Zhi Gege!" Xian Lian cried, fear evident in her voice.
Zhiyong glanced back at her, his face tight with worry, but his eyes were full of determination. "Xian Lian, you need to cross that gate. Find a lady named Ruqi. She owns an inn. Tell her my message."
"Where are you going, Zhi Gege?" Xian Lian's voice trembled as she clutched his hand, panic rising in her chest. The storm outside mirrored the storm inside her, wild and uncontrollable.
Zhiyong looked down at her, his fingers brushing against her damp cheek. For a moment, his expression wavered—torn between the promise he wanted to make and the reality pressing down on them. His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard.
"I'll come back," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. "No matter where you are... I'll find you." He hesitated, his grip tightening for just a second before he whispered, "You won't be alone."
The rain intensified, but Zhiyong's words seemed to hang in the air, like a fragile promise in the midst of a chaotic world.
His words were soft but resolute, a quiet vow that struck deep within her heart, but it was a promise she wasn't sure she could hold onto. Tears welled up in her eyes as she realized their time together was running out. Each second felt like a weight pressing on her chest.
She clung to him, unwilling to face the reality of what was happening. The world around them seemed to fade, leaving only the sound of their breaths and the warmth of his presence. But the world didn't pause, and she couldn't keep him here forever. Finally, with a heart heavy with sorrow, she pulled away, her legs unsteady as the weight of the moment took its toll. Her steps faltered, her body aching with the knowledge that she was losing him.
Zhiyong watched her, his expression a mix of love and sadness, as she disappeared into the storm. A faint smile tugged at his lips, but it was quickly replaced with a determined resolve. He turned back toward the chaos, his steps sure, his mind set on the vow he had made. No matter the storm, he would find her again.
Xian Lian's heart raced, each beat like a drum in her ears as she sprinted toward the gates. Her feet slid on the slick, unforgiving earth, panic clawing at her throat. The guards were too close, their footsteps echoing like thunder behind her. The gates loomed ahead, towering and impenetrable, a silent challenge daring her to make it through.
Her breath came in ragged gasps as she searched desperately for cover. The rain blurred her vision, each drop striking her skin like tiny needles. Then—there. A narrow alcove beneath a slanted roof.
She didn't think. She ran. Her legs burned, her lungs screamed, but she made it—collapsing into the tiny space, pressing herself against the wall as the storm howled around her.
Safe. For now.
But the moment she stilled, the emptiness closed in. The wind howled, but it wasn't as loud as the silence left in Zhiyong's absence. The night was cold, but not as cold as the space beside her. She wrapped her arms around herself, but nothing could shield her from the loneliness seeping into her bones.
Stay strong. Find Ruqi.