Jingrui blinked, trying to recollect herself. The blood trail, the haunted Guzheng¹, and her missing master were already more than enough to occupy her mind for the whole night. And now, the unmannered stranger just had to stack another layer atop her life's hindrance.

Your Master . . . Perhaps, you'd like to follow the blood trail.

His voice rang in her head, and her occupied thought vanished, bringing her focus back to the blood trail. She stared ahead at the splattered red that sweeped straight through thick hedges and into a small clearing. At that moment, she knew deep within her heart the exact intention behind the stranger's words.

Fear overcame her and although she wanted to pursue the stranger, she put the matter behind. The moonlight shone against her face, accompanying her, as she forced her tensed limbs to move forward. No matter what she knew within her heart, she refused to believe it. It couldn't be—it just couldn't be.

She pushed herself along the path, holding the tree trunks as pillars so her weak knees wouldn't collapse. It wasn't until the soft snow beneath her feet turned into a sticky sludge that she paused her steps. A sickly and foul stench wafted into her nose, and a wet substance soaked through her shoes.

Blood.

She looked down towards the ground, and at her white boots that had been dyed red. Her eyes widened, and she clasped her hands over her lips to seal in her scream. Right by her feet were limbs, and next to that was a body of a woman and man, their faces concealed by their tangled hair.

Fear corroded her heart, but before she could move and run back to the compound, one of the corpses' hands vaulted towards her ankle. Her feet solidified into ice as it dugged its nails into her skin, trying to pull her to submerge into the pool of blood.

At that moment, Jingrui no longer cared to hold in her scream. Her voice shattered the night as she kicked the thick blood and snow. "Let go of me, you beast! Let go of me—" she began, only to cut herself off when a coughing fist croaked out from the battered body.

Jingrui ceased her struggles as a sense of familiarity flushed over her. Her eyes widened and her mouth gaped open. Slowly, she peered down at the body. "Master?" she breathed, scanning over his pale and lifeless face. And seeing the state that he was in, no sense of relief flushed through her to have found him.

Cuts and bruises flawed his body, making him almost unrecognisable. Only his long white beard, and the prominent lines of wrinkles on his face distincted him as her master. Across his throat was a cut, carved into his skin as if his neck were a block of wood. Blood dripped from it, creating a pool of red that led from him to the body of a woman.

Jingrui's eyes widened as she glanced at the woman's face. But with just one glance, her stomach lurched and an urge to throw up filled her. In the end, she turned away, gulping hard. Slowly, she inched closer and plopped down onto the red snow.

"Sister Jingyi. . ." she called, her voice drowning into the silence. "Sister Jingyi," she called again and softly nudged her sister's arm.

Silence.

Fear strangled her and silence brought an unbidding feeling that barren her bones. Tears forced its way into her eyes, and she sniffled, trying to bottle it back down. Sister Jingyi had never ignored her, so why was she not answering her call this time? Besides, why was Sister Jingyi at the Red Valley? Wasn't she meant to be at the Heavenly Palace? With all her courage, she glanced over at the body once more.

Sister Jingyi was as pale as snow. Her dark eyes were open and eerily dull. Her porcelian skin that once shone brighter than pearl had been distorted by cuts. She lay lifelessly upon the cold snow, blood seeped from her severed limbs and created a crimson sludge beneath her.

Jingrui covered her mouth with her palms as nausea vied with her grief. Her insides twisted and she bent over, heaving out all that she had eaten that morning until her stomach became empty.

She took a deep breath and slumped against the ground. Her body turned rigid, and although, tears filled in her eyes, she felt too numb to cry. She sat, engulfed by the stench of blood, feeling hollow of life.

Was this what the stranger meant by 'mess'?

The smell of blood suffocated her, making her head ached. And at that moment, she felt as if the Red Valley had been swallowed by the deepest pit of the abyss.

Her hands trembled as she reached towards Sister Jingyi's neck to feel her pulse.

Nothing.

Sobs ripped up her throat, and unshed tears streamed down her face like a broken dam. Her breathing grew rugged, and she turned to her master. "Who did this?" she cried, her hands clutched the red snow while anger burned in her bleak tears.

Her master gave a weary sigh as he beckoned her to him. Jingrui sniffled as she crawled to his side and held his head onto her lap.

Blood gurgled out from his lips, and silver light swarm by his neck to stop his bleeding cut. Jingrui knew that her master must be sparing every last drop of his cultivation to hold onto his last ounce of life. Even knowing this, she hugged her master tighter. "I'll go get Senior. He will definitely be able to heal you."

Master closed his eyes and shook his head. Instead, he gestured for her to give him her hand. She immediately complied.

"Heavenly . . . Palace." He forced himself to speak as he placed a jade lucky charm knot in her palm. Jingrui scanned the familiar-looking knot. It was the one Sister Jingyi had on the day she left the Red Valley to become a maid at the Heavenly Palace.

"Take it, Jingrui, give it to shifu²—" he broke into a coughing fist.

"Which shifu²?" she questioned. "Which shifu², Master? Who did this to you?"

"Forgive them," he muttered, his voice airy and held no strength. "No matter whom, you won't be able to win against them. Forgive, Jingrui, forgive."

Jingrui shook her head. "No, Master. I won't forgive them. I will never forgive them!"

"Jingrui." He breathed hard and clasped his hand over hers. Life began to vanish from his eyes. "Live happily. The survival field, you've long had enough. Live well and peacefully, Jingrui, for your sister."

She shook her head and clutched her master's hand. He smiled at her. "Foolish child," he murmured before his body grew with light, and slowly, he faded like the colours of the season. She watched as the life she held in her arms dissipated into speckles of soft light and rising into the air.

Silver and gold glitzed as the morning light cast down against the blanket of pristine landscape. The colour of the peach blossoms had been robbed. Her sister had lost the life in her eyes, and her master was leaving her.

Within the bleak winter, the sun held no warmth to fight against the cold.

It never would again.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

2) shīfu (師傅) : tutor/master who is skillful in a particular discipline (specially martial arts.)