In a single breath, beaming ribbons of gold light orbited around Jian Yu, the crowd of wounded Song cultivators, and Mei Ying. A storm of vibrant crimson petals joined in the dance of radiance. By and by, Jian Yu opened his eyes and glanced around. Everyone, including him, had been teleported across the burning field to the other side where the grass remained wet and lush green.

Here, the air was not coursing in smoke. The evening wind has blown them into the opposite direction through large tunnels of dark fumes.

One by one, the cries of surprise swarmed around Mei Ying, the quiet young woman in all-white: “Young Miss, th-thank you!”—“Thank you for saving us!”—“You could’ve let us be eliminated from the tournament! Thank you!”

From Jian Yu's left side, he looked at where the huntress’ right sleeve used to be. Most of it had been burnt off. Her once moon-pale arm had been exposed, gradually reddening due to the burns.

Feeling his eyes, Mei Ying avoided Jian Yu's gaze and covered her injured bicep with the other hand. She bit her bottom lip. Her brows pinched together from the uncomfortable pain that continued to irritate and prickle.

The young man’s breath shuddered. His dark eyes became warm.

It was a long moment before the huntress glanced his way, managing a smile. “I’m alright.”

Then, Mei Ying turned to the cluster of Song cultivators, all of whom wore dirt-smeared blue outer robes. They reeked of mud, coughing ash, and charred wood. Their high ponytails were messy, with wild, loose hair strands. The hoop of silver around their necks no longer shimmered brightly as they did before. It was the same for the once-shining hairpins.

Unfazed by this, the huntress asked, “Why did the tree demons attack you all?”

“It was our fault…” Carefully, the large cousin sat down to ease his bleeding leg. “Our shifu sent out two disciples for scouting purposes, but when they did not return, three of us joined in and found that they were being bullied by some Jin Sword sect disciples.” His face flushed. “During our fight, we…ah…accidentally struck down a tree demon and woke up the horde.”

“And where are the Jin Sword sect disciples now?”

“They were too fast…and flew away. We could not escape since we had already used up a lot of spiritual energy in fighting them due to our gap differences in cultivation rank.”

Then, Kong should be out and about, searching for these five then… Mei Ying thought, feeling the ominous dread. It would be best if we leave now.

Glancing back, the huntress sighed. There were large clouds of dark smoke streaming high into the night skies. It was a clear marker for others to easily spot and fight stupid preys. What a mess!

“Well, the least we can do is put out the fire.” said one person, and before Mei Ying could stop them, four blue-robed disciples were already walking back. “That way, we can avoid trouble with the other sects.”

Ah, the disciples are more considerate than their shifu.

Since the tree demons were scorched by Jian Yu’s blazes, they were long dead. It was true since the roasting temperature had burned away the monsters’ cores of condensed qi and hearts. Fallen into black ashes, the humongous trunks were mostly corroded away and surrounded by the hungry fire. They were otherwise exorcised, with scattered souls. The chance to potentially reincarnate was lost.

Stopping short of the billowing ruby-and-gold wall of hot flames, the young men aligned themselves into a horizontal line. They simultaneously gathered drops of moisture—down from the air with a hand seal. Bit by bit, they rotated both palms into a small wheel-like motion near their stomachs. The translucent, cool water from mid-air turned and turned into four large rings of fluid. Then, the solemn cultivators channeled the water into fire, slowly over time and across the burning field.

At the same time, the round-bellied cultivator who remained with their rescuers—motioned for Mei Ying to come closer. The maiden swallowed. She slowly squatted down to hear what the wounded person had to say, followed by the silent Jian Yu.

“Thank you, Mei Ying.” The tubby cousin stammered out.

Wintry wind swept over the maiden’s lengthy hair. Gradually, she turned to the person and forced out a light laugh. “What are you talking about? I believe that you have mistaken me for someone.”

“We may not have spoken for thirteen years…but I know that divine whip from anywhere.”

Lowering her gaze, Mei Ying pressed her red lips together. She kept her burned arm covered. Her heart tightened from the scabs being poked once more.

“Let me heal your wound.” Jian Yu said, quietly. He moved in between the two cultivators and cut the large cousin off by turning his back on him. “Sit down. You need to reserve energy.”

“But what about…” Mei Ying stopped when the pudgy relative shook his head.

Obeying her friend, the young woman plopped down on the grass and allowed Jian Yu to gingerly take hold of her red, itchy arm. She nearly flinched from the intense wave of aches.

“A cultivator’s own creation cannot hurt them…” Jian Yu reminded her. “…that including what derives from their own aura.”

Raising her eyes, Mei Ying was surprised by the person’s change in demeanor. “I forgot about that! So…”

As the silver moonlight gleamed around him, the red-robed cultivator’s white-jade palm hovered over Mei Ying’s limb. He began to cloak the irritated skin with a cool, soothing light.

There was a sigh. “It was unnecessary of you to save me from a falling tree demon that I burned with my own fire and given my faster speed…”

For untold reasons, the huntress felt that her friend was restraining himself from scolding her. His words were straightforward and sharp like a knife, but his actions were gentle. Mei Ying turned her head a bit, sneaking a peek of the thin line between Jian Yu's lips.

In fact, since the start of their arrival to rescuing the foolish disciples, the young man had not smiled at all. From the back of her mind, Mei Ying felt that everything was nostalgic. It was as though she was reliving a familiar past all over again. As Jian Yu’s lips fluttered on, the young woman did not hear what he was talking about. She observed his eyes to be clear, soft, and almost watering.

The handsome and knowledgable person added, “…But I appreciate your efforts to help me.”

In Mei Ying's eyes, Jian Yu seemed to be the spitting older image of someone dear. Under the huntress’ careful gaze, she found that her friend’s hand was trembling slightly.

The young man worked slowly since his fire was incredibly painful against a person with earth-and-flora based aura.

“Are you alright?!” At long last, Xiao Li had circled back to where the three people had remained and plunged down from a towering treetop. With his long-braided ponytail wrapped around his neck, he landed by the cultivator’s side. “What are you—"

Averting his attention to the servant, Jian Yu glared hard enough to shut him up.

“If you are not Mei Ying…” Seeing that his relative was not going to admit it, the portly person went on, “…you remind me of a younger cousin whom I did not treat well.” He scratched the back of his neck. “Thirteen years ago, a couple of our cousins and I left her for dead with a demon boy in the sinister Minjue Forest, also known as a burial ground for cultivators and civilians from the Ghost War.”

Xiao Li averted his curious eyes to the huntress.

The Song cultivator shook his head. “While many people claim that she exorcised him herself, others refute that little Mei Ying had befriended the demon boy and was forced to kill him for unknown reasons. I tried to apologize to my little cousin, but at the time, I was too ashamed to face her…”

Bit by bit, the man’s words faded away.

Heat gathered around Mei Ying's soft eyes. The scabs of her heart chipped away again.

Gradually, the memories of thirteen years ago were made visible before the huntress.

❁❁❁

“Mei Ying!”

A tall, pot-bellied boy nearly tripped over the last top stone step of the flight. He panted and panted, dripping with warm sweat from the bottom of his chubby chin. Wiping it off with one hand, the chubby child stepped forward. The end of his sky-blue outer robe was dirty. He wanted to sit down, but he did not want to show weakness to the crybaby.

Except now, the victim was not crying. She had not wept a tear for the past few days, nor had she spoken a word to anyone in Cheng Xiu Village since her return from the horrifying Minjue Forest with En Lai, the white tiger, Kong, and many other Song cultivators.

Sweeping the golden autumn leaves from the jade-green bamboo gates, the small disciple concentrated her all into holding the stick of a broom that was three times her size. Draped in a snow-white outer robe, the little girl almost mirrored the appearance of the immaculate En Lai—a glowing Heaven Immortal with a smooth, creamy complexion and bright pair of burning, gold eyes. From far away, the person was typically tall and thin in their breezy white robe and long, red-copper hair. However, as one approaches them, their aura became imposing and exuded nothing but defeat for the other.

Standing all alone under the dark silver skies, the tiny disciple appeared like a jade statue, with her emotionless face. Shrouded in white, the child donned what seemed to be mourning attire for the dead. She stopped sweeping away the leaves at the entrance of her shifu’s small wooden house. Her dim eyes drifted toward the large boy. Soon, Mei Ying continued to clean as though he were a passing ghost.

The cousin clenched his teeth together. His knees were shaking. He opened his mouth to start, “Mei Ying, I…”

“Fatty, what are you doing?!” Behind the former bully, two scrawny goons slowly went up the stone steps and joined their leader. One of them, the speaker, went on, “Huh?! You came to see her?”

“If she doesn’t get better, then, we’re not allowed to bother her anymore, ah.” It was a pathetic excuse, but the eldest did not know what else to say. “My mother grounded me because of this stupid person. She said that Mei Ying’s mind has been affected, and as the oldest, I should have dragged her out of that place instead of leaving her.”

“If her mind is damaged, then…” Crossing his arms, the other skinny boy asked, “…are you not scared that she might become crazy and hurt you?”

“Right, right…” said the first scrawny child. “Whether the demon possessed her or befriended Mei Ying, we all…” He paused to think—but quickly pushed his relatives behind a nearby bush. “Shit! Shaman Hua is coming!” He too hid.

In an instant, a stout woman slipped down from the cloudy skies, outlined in an emerald-green glow. Her outer robe was black as night, with a vermilion-red sash around her waist. Shaman Hua wore her dark hair in a low bun and a nine-inch silver hair pin stuck through it.

The person hopped off the flying sword. With a short whistle, she recalled it back into the silver sheathe by her side. The long shoulder cape billowed into the air like a streaming red ribbon, and the light surrounding the shaman vanished.

Knitting her dark brows together, the woman briskly approached the small girl in all-white. “Child...” Her voice was both gentle and strong like a tall tree standing against the start of a windstorm. “Do you remember me?”

The little disciple raised her dark eyes and shook her head.

“I see…” Mustering a tight smile, the woman glanced toward the churning skies that foretold the incoming weather. “Where is your shifu? Shaman Hua would like to speak to her.”

“Shaman Hua.” A falling golden leaf did not even land on the ground by the shaman’s foot, and already, the cultivator with porcelain-like skin and red lips appeared by the towering bamboo gates. “This one did not expect you to arrive here so suddenly.”

“Ah, forgive me.” Cupping her hands together, the guest bowed her head. “I came to see how Mei Ying is feeling and brought…”

“Crystal cakes?” The beautiful Immortal sighed. Even from inside the house, they had already caught whiff of the sweet round pastries and red bean filling. Three cakes, each carefully wrapped in paper, were stuffed into the person’s sleeves. “You and your late mother both spoil my disciple too much.” They averted their gaze to the child, who continued to sweep with the broom. “Mei Ying, stop cleaning. It’s going to rain soon. You are done for today.”

“Are any of her meridian points damaged?”

“I checked every night.” En Lai stroked their chin in thought. “I am quite bad with children…but I am excellent in spotting injuries, especially those geared toward cultivation.” The peerless celestial stopped, glancing at the woman. “We can talk more inside the house."

“Also…” Shaman Hua watched the small child’s white robe sway back and forth from the streaming wind. “Why is she wearing white instead of our clan’s blue uniform?”

In one hand, the Heaven Immortal was leading the small child toward the main courtyard while the other was holding the entry gate for the guest. They turned to look back at the curious person. A shadow dipped over their narrowed eyes. Their long white robe rippled quite elegantly in grave silence.

With flowing copper locks, En Lai coolly answered, “Mei Ying knows that she is different from all the other children. Why does the Song clan insist on pretending that she is the same as the others?” There was a brief shine in their eyes. “The Child of Red Omen is a disciple of a Heaven Immortal. Whether the Mortal realm chooses to believe in the prophecy or not, it is on them.”

Raising their chin, the celestial almost sneered. “One day...they will know who to beg.”

Casting her eyes to the ground, Shaman Hua pursed her lips together into a thin line. Thunder rumbled from afar, looming closer and closer over time.

“Shaman Hua.” To the woman’s surprise, a small pale hand pulled at her broad black sleeve. As soft raindrops dripped down from overhead, the little disciple yanked again. “Shaman Hua, Shifu said you had crystal cakes?”

Once a person peers closer, they could see that the bottom of Mei Ying’s autumn-tinted eyes was red and swollen.

From nearby, in between the branches of greenery, the cousins watched quietly. Out of the three, the large boy noticed that Mei Ying's eyes were rimmed in red, because the little girl was facing their direction. It was easy to spot due to the child’s pearl-white skin. It was clear that she was weeping her eyes out at night.

Soon, the shaman lowered herself and gently placed a hand over the child’s crown of long, black hair. She smoothed her palm over and over the disciple's head as though she was petting a rabbit. Each stroke was light. She was careful to not injure the tiny flower.

Gradually, the little girl raised her large, soft eyes.

The woman nodded. “Yes, Shaman Hua brought you pastries like Shaman Xia did.” Rain began to drizzle more, falling from the charcoal-gray Heaven above. Wind began to nip, growing wintrier by each second. “Let’s go inside Shifu’s house and eat the crystal cakes together, alright?”

Little by little, both ends of Mei Ying’s lips pulled up into a small smile. Her eyes brightened, curving into a pair of crescent moons. A warm tear trickled from one corner and slowly spilled down her pale cheek.

❁❁❁

Wiping away the teardrop, the young woman did not face her older cousin, who seemed rather pitiful with his wounded leg. Wind howled in the distance. Mei Ying’s ears grasped the sound of metal rushing faster and faster toward their way. She glanced up.

Crimson flew before the huntress and the pudgy man. An immense blast of hot fire rushed forward—clashing head-on with a substantial pillar of freezing, white ice. There came a flash of light, and chilling icicles flew everywhere in one sweep—shattered like a million glittering crystals.

“When I said for you all to retrieve the others…” The voice was disdainful and eerily calm, but Kong's silver eyes were wrecked with hot lividness. “Did I mean for you to make friends…in a f*cking tournament?”