Transmigrated back into the body of her child self, can the mighty Celestial Bing Meilu survive in a Xianxia world all the while staving off the advances of arrogant young masters and wannabe protagonists alike?

Why is life so hard for the Icy Beauty?

Any corrections or criticisms are welcome, I hope you enjoy Chapter 4: Ravenous Blood

---

Bing Meilu walked towards the door of her home, sighing slightly. She was somewhat surprised that she had seen a cultivator in Jiang City. Bing Meilu had no memories of there ever being cultivators in the city. However, she dismissed the event as irrelevant and moved forward. It was entirely possible she had missed him in her previous life.

The young girl pushed open the door to her family's home, the wood creaking loudly. As she walked into the farmhouse, Bing Meilu noticed the smell of spices filling the air, no doubt from her mother's cooking.

She gently removed her sandals, slowly walking forwards from the entrance into the room that served as both a kitchen and a dining room. Bing Meilu's mother was toiling atop a large black pot, stirring a thick broth while steam poured out of it. A small wood flame heated the bottom of the pot, letting out thin smoke.

Bing Meilu's maternal grandmother and father, Ying Shanxi and Ying Lan sat at the dinner table, patiently waiting for their daughter to finishing cooking.

Bing Meilu bowed towards them stiffly, cupping her hands in greeting.

"Bing Meilu greets grandmother and grandfather," she said curtly.

Ying Shanxi, her grandmother hummed lightly, pressing her lips into a thin line.

"You're finally home," the elderly woman said, a tone of disapproval entering her voice.

Ever since Bing Meilu had scared off the boys attacking Zhang Yi, terrifying them, rumours about her had begun to spread, amongst other things, making her out to be an evil witch of some sort. Ying Shanxi felt that Bing Meilu's action had lost face for the family and ruined her chances of a good marriage. If Bing Meilu had not been a young girl with a weak constitution, she was sure she would have been beaten severely.

"I heard you've been hanging out with that vagabond boy, Zhang Yi!" the grandmother said, disapprovingly. "If you spend too much time with him, rumours will spread that you've lost your maidenhood, and then I'll definitely never be able to marry you off!"

Bing Meilu had to stop herself from scoffing at the idea. Both of marrying some mortal man and of her sleeping with Zhang Yi. Of course, she could not tell her grandmother that she had no plans of ever getting married, especially to some mortal man twice her age.

"Rest assured," Bing Meilu started, "That I would never commit such a deplorable stain on our family's honour. All the gossip is just that, gossip. Zhang Yi simply happens to train martial arts in the same field I often meditate. We are at best, acquaintances."

"You've missed the point, deary," her grandmother harrumphed. "It doesn't matter whether you actually have, it only matters whether people think you have! In fact, people are already gossiping about it! How will I ever find you a virtuous husband at this point?"

"Relax, wife," Bing Meilu's grandfather, Ying Lan finally interrupted. "We can discuss this after supper. If you spend so much time worrying, you'll age prematurely!"

Ying Shanxi sighed but dropped the topic. The head of the household had spoken and it would be improper to disobey him.

Bing Meilu had a much better impression of her grandfather than her grandmother. He was a retired army veteran who now spent his days farming. He was much more relaxed about Bing Meilu doing unladylike things such as martial arts training and spending time out in the fields.

"Daughter, how long until the stew is ready?" Ying Lan called out.

"Only a few more minutes, father!" Bing Wuying replied quickly, continuing her stirring.

Indeed, only three minutes later, Bing Wuying lifted the pot off of the cooking flame and brought into onto the table. The delicious scent of spices and meat wafted out of the container and into the air. While eating meat was rather uncommon for peasant farmers, Bing Meilu's family had a small farm of pigs and any unsold meat would have to be eaten lest it go off.

Immediately, Bing Wuying served the pot of piping hot pork stew, first to her parents and then to herself and Bing Meilu, who tried to contain her grimace as she delicately sipped the stew. It was hard to get used to eating mortal food again. The taste was not necessarily bad, but it fell far short of the delicious immortal delicacies that she had previously enjoyed.

As the family ate, Bing Meilu began to frown. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, and a chill ran down her spine. A strangely foreboding atmosphere had filled the air. Bing Meilu snapped her head to look around warily.

As a mortal, Bing Meilu lacked any of the special sensory powers she had possessed as a cultivator, however even as a mortal she still retained one thing.

Instinct.

It was something all animals possessed. The atavistic capacity to subconsciously recognize cues and make inferences that the conscious mind failed to notice. Often, even before humans knew there was going to be rain, deer had already fled the coming hurricane.

Instinct was not a supernatural ability or any form of mysticism. Rather it was simply a form of pattern recognition. The subconscious mind was very perceptive to small things, such as the moisture in the air, ambient noises and changes in temperature. These subtle factors that the conscious often neglected to notice could be warning signs of dangerous oncoming events.

So what was it? What was her instinct trying to tell her? What had Bing Meilu's subconscious recognized that she had not?

Bing Meilu closed her eyes, straining her hearing. She could hear distant chatter, the sound of clacking utensils and breathing, and beyond that, nothing.

And that was the problem.

The birds.

This far north, this time of year, there the birds would be returning from their southern migration. The sound of chirps and bird songs would fill the air! Bing Meilu had so long gotten used to the constant cacophony of noise that she barely even noticed them anymore. Yet, for some reason, the birds had gone eerily silent.

Bing Meilu looked out the window of her home. She could see birds flying through the air frantically, heading west.

Bing Meilu stood up, face perfectly calm.

"Mother, do we have any swords? Spears? Axes?" She asked tonelessly.

"What are you doing, Meilu?" her mother responded. "Sit down and finish your dinner!"

"Look outside the window," Bing Meilu sharply instructed. "Do you see the birds?"

"Yes, I see them. What does it matter?" Bing Wuying answered, peering her head outside. "They are just flying around.."

"Noy flying," Bing Meilu corrected. "fleeing."

"Feeling from what?" Bing Wuying asked, frowning. "This sounds silly."

"No, she's right," Ying Lan interrupted. "In my thirty years of living here, I've never seen the birds react like this. It's highly unusual-"

Ying Lan was cut off by an eruption of noise. All across the village dogs began to bark loudly, relentless shouting into the air. Cows loudly called out, mooing. Chickens and roosters began to bleat.

Ying Lan stood up from the table, a frown covering his weathered face.

"I have a spear from my old army days," Ying Lan said, making his way out of the house. "You three stay here, granddaughter, go wake your brother!"

For the animals in the village to react like that... There was undoubtedly something coming, and Bing Melu already had her suspicious of what it was.

She ran towards the bedroom room, where her brother slept soundly. Bing Meilu grabbed his arm, shaking him roughly.

"Wake up!" she shouted.

Bing Meilu's little brother, Bing Wei stirred from his slumber, yawning slightly.

"What is it, Big Sis?" he muttered tiredly. "I'm trying to sleep,"

"An emergency," Bing Meilu responded. "Get up now!"

The boy widened his eyes, nodding. He quickly jumped out of bed, looking around alarmed.

Bing Meilu tugged his arm, pulling Bing Wei out of the bedroom and leading him into the kitchen, where Bing Wuying and Ying Shanxi stood.

Bing Wei ran over to his mother and clutched her leg, shaking in fear.

"What's going on, mother," he asked wide-eyed.

"It's nothing," Bing Wuying replied, tussling his hair. "Everything will be alright."

Bing Meilu shook her head, walking to the front of the farmhouse. She pushed open the door, striding forward and picking up the pace.

"Young lady," shouted her grandmother. "Get back here at once!"

"Don't worry, you guys make sure to stay inside!" Bing Meilu shouted. "I'm just going to go see what is going on!"

Bing Meilu could see dozens of men pouring out of their homes. Many clutched simple farm tools, hoes, rakes and scythes. Others held real weapons, swords, axes and maces.

"Over here!" a voice shouted. It was her grandfather. Immediately, the dozens of men ran over to where he stood, forming up around the man. Ying Lan was a respected war veteran and was held in high regard by the community.

"Senior," one young man asked. "What's going on? All the dogs, and all the animals. Why are they so scared?"

Bing Meilu made her way to the back of the crowd of men, watching. Thick tension filled the air, sweat dripping down the villagers.

"I think I have an idea," Ying Lan grimly replied, pointing east. "Do you see that?"

The gathered peasants turned their heads in the direction Ying Lan had indicated, gulping as they caught sight of what Ying Lan had noticed.

A dense pillar of black fog rose from the skin of an enormous boar. The creature stood ten feet tall, huge jagged tusks jutting out of it's face like white spears of bone. Dark red stains covered the tips of the tusks, no doubt the dried blood of its prey. A red light flickered from the cruel eyes of the beast. Its dull black skin shone like beaten iron as it slowly trotted towards the village.

"Is that-"

"It's a Demon," Ying Lan answered grimly. "I've seen a few back in the old days. The black fog, the red eyes. It's unmistakable!"

A palpable wave of fear rippled through the crowd, many men beginning to shake in terror.

Demons were known to many only as horrific creatures of bloodlust and evil. They were beings that had once been mundane things, anywhere from animals, plants or even inanimate objects like drops of blood or rocks. Then, they had slowly mutated, absorbing Qi from the air and becoming cultivators. More often than not, these creatures went on rampages, slaughtering humans and tearing through villages.

They were the great enemy of humankind, the unending horde of monstrosities that infringed upon the foundation of civilization. All across the continent, small villages and towns had to live in constant fear of annihilation by these creatures.

"But-But," One man muttered, frozen in terror. "they are not supposed to exist this far north..."

Indeed, the far north of the Bird Talon Content was desolate in terms of Qi. Not a single sect was based there, and no Demons would naturally form there.

"it must have migrated from the south," Ying Lan announced. "Seeking easier prey..."

As the massive creature slowly approached the village, tremors began to run through the earth from its enormous hooves. The beast's thick and powerful muscles rippled underneath its equally thick hide.

The Demon lowered its head, its tusks begging to tear up the earth as it sped up.

"It's charging!" Ying Lan shouted, running to the side, eyes wide.

The villagers screamed some dodging, some frozen in place by the fear. Those too slow to get out of the creature's way were instantly torn through by the beast's massive tusks, blood, gore and bits of flesh flying through the air as three men were ripped apart by the tusks of the charging beast.

The Demon laughed, a booming deep thunder that rang out in the air. The beast opened its mouth, a massive tongue shooting out to lick up the dead men. It closed its jaw, slowly crunching and grinding the dismembered body parts in its teeth. Sickening crunches and splashes of blood issued out of its mouth as it feasted.

The boar looked up from what remained of its meal at the rest of the villagers, who had warily encircled it, weapons raised. The beast's stomach shook, a bellowing chuckle erupting from it. It looked down at the humans surrounding it disdainfully as if it were a tiger laughing at the attempts of a mouse to slay it.

Simply based on size and appearance, the Demon should be in the fifth or sixth tier of Qi Condensation. To kill a creature like with only mortals would require dozens of well-armed, well-trained soldiers fighting in unison.

Or a small group of untrained, poorly armed, scattered peasants lead by a former Paragon.