The city walls lay behind her now, but the night stretched before Xue like an endless sea of shadows and uncertainty. She ran until her legs burned, until her breath came in ragged gasps, and then she walked one step, then another. She was guided only by instinct and the whisper of the wind.
Without sight, the world felt both vast and treacherous. The ground beneath her feet changed from smooth stone to packed earth, from earth to gravel, and finally to wild, uneven paths tangled with roots and scattered stones. Every step demanded care. She stumbled more than once, the skin of her palms scraped raw where she caught herself from falling.
The darkness offered no comfort. It was not the familiar dark she had known since birth. This was a different kind of blindness, full of dangers she could not name. The sounds of the city faded behind her: no more the cries of merchants packing up for the night, no more the clatter of hooves on cobbled streets. In a way, it made her feel empty. The loss of a city made her feel as if she had lost her last support even though all she had there was her father. Maybe it was her father she was thinking of. In their place came new sounds: the rustle of tall grass, the chirp of night insects, and the distant howl of some beast far off in the wilderness.
She paused often, standing utterly still, straining to listen. It was sound that would guide her now. She remembered the lessons her father had spoken of in passing — how the Emerald Mountains rose to the north and east, and how, on quiet nights, the wind would carry the scent of pine and cold stone down from their slopes.
Xue turned her face into the breeze. It was faint, but she caught it: a crispness in the air, different from the smoky, stale scent of the city. The smell of wild things, of resin and damp rock. She took a slow, steadying breath and pressed on, adjusting her course toward the cleanest part of the wind.
Hours passed, or perhaps only moments — time lost meaning in the rhythm of her steps and the pounding of her heart. Her ears picked out what they could: the flow of a river somewhere ahead, the sharp cry of a hunting bird, the rustling of undergrowth as small creatures fled at her approach.
When she reached the river, she knelt and drank deeply, the cold water a balm to her dry throat. She let her fingers trail in the strong current, feeling its pull, its direction. This river, she recalled, wound down from the highlands and became a lake near the city that would then become another river which supported trade in Emerald City . Following the way reverse of the current flow would lead her closer to the mountains. Rising to her feet, she followed the sound of the water, slow and careful, using its song as her guide.
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Some time later, she was still going and the night air bit at her skin. Each and every step felt heavier than the last, as if the darkness itself clung to her. At last, she stumbled upon a hollow between two ancient pines, a small shelter where the ground rose just enough to stay dry. It was soft with fallen needles and moss. The trees loomed over her like silent sentries, their scent sharp and clean in the cold air.
She collapsed to her knees, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The silence of the forest pressed in around her, broken only by the sound wind blowing the leaves of trees and the distant cries of unseen creatures. She pulled her knees to her chest, curling in on herself as the weight of it all crashed down.
I made it this far, she thought, the bitter taste of tears filling her mouth. All for what? To die out here, alone, cold, and forgotten?
She paused in her thoughts.
Isn't that what I wanted?
Her heart pounded against her ribs, and she hated it — hated that it still clung to life, that it still fought when she had sworn she wouldn't. When she fled the estate, she had imagined the wilderness swallowing her, imagined the jaws of a beast or the bite of the cold ending it swiftly.
Better that than his hands, better that than the cage the elders built for me.
Now that she was here, surrounded by the vast, uncaring wild, she felt small, fragile, and afraid.
Why am I hesitating? Why can't I let go?
The darkness offered no answers, only the hollow sound of her breathing and the thundering beat of her heart.
You came out here to die, she reminded herself, bitter and trembling. So why are you cowering here like a frightened child? Why not walk into the river and let it carry you away? Why not keep going until some beast finds you and finishes what you won't?
Her fingers dug into the moss beneath her, cold and damp.
Because I'm a coward, she thought, the shame of it burning in her chest. I was brave enough to run, but not brave enough to finish what I started.
A sob escaped her lips before she could stop it, muffled against her sleeve. The night seemed to close in tighter, as if the trees themselves leaned closer to listen.
She took a shuddering breath, drawing in the clean, sharp scent of pine and damp earth. It filled her lungs, steadied her.
Xue wiped her face with trembling hands, the tears drying in the chill night air. She would rest now — just for a little while. And when the dawn came, she would rise and keep moving. Toward the mountains. Toward whatever waited beyond.
A low growl rumbled through the undergrowth, deep and guttural, making the earth beneath her feet tremble.
Xue froze. The sound came again, closer, circling her. She could hear the slow, deliberate padding of heavy paws, each step measured. It was undoubtedly savoring the fear it stirred.
Demon beast, she realized, her blood running cold. A mountain lion most likely. They're the most common around here.
She had heard the stories, had listened as elders and servants spoke in hushed tones of the creatures that ruled the wild places. Despite having no formal education like her siblings, she was not ignorant to such commonplace entities existing all over the world. Demon beasts were beasts that, through long years of absorbing the world's natural spiritual energy or Qi, became more than what nature first made them. They cultivated as humans did, tempering their bodies, refining their inner essence. And when they grew strong enough, they battled others of their kind — devouring spirit herbs, spirit stones, and the beast cores of their fallen rivals to advance their strength.
The mountain lion circled her now, close enough that she could smell it — wild and musky, its breath hot with the scent of raw meat. A predator who had risen through many battles, who bore the strength of those it had slain.
It was toying with her. If it would charge straight after her, she would definitely be dead. Thankfully, it seemed it had a bit of a rotten personality and wanted to see her exhausted before pouncing on her.
The growl deepened, vibrating through her bones. A snap of a twig — the rush of air — it lunged.
Run.
Xue turned and fled, heart hammering, breath ragged. Branches tore at her skin, the world a blur of sound and scent. Behind her, the beast crashed through the undergrowth, a living storm of muscle and fang.
She couldn't see it, but the mountain lion was almost pitch black in color, its eyes looking savage yet majestic as they resembled swirling stars in a purple night sky. These features certainly being caused by the absorption of spiritual energy. If someone back in the city were to have seen it, they definitely would have been able to name it. It was known as an Umbraclaw Lion, a rank one demon beast at the equivalent of a human in the Body Tempering Stage.
Isn't this what I wanted? To die? The thought rose, bitter and cold. Then why does my body refuse? Why do I run?
She remembered the river she was not too far from. Perhaps if she hopped in and the mountain lion did not know how to swim, she could get away.
The mountain lion roared, the sound shaking the night.
It was done playing. The hunt was on.
Xue sprinted downhill, arms outstretched to feel the contours of the land ahead. It was nowhere near perfect. More than a couples times was she scratched or hit hard by something she did not know was there. The soil was looser here, the incline sharp. She stumbled once, caught herself on a sapling, and then kept running.
The Umbraclaw Lion gave chase behind her — each step a thunderous, measured beat, deliberate and fast. It didn't gallop like a wild animal. It stalked between bounds, launching off trees, landing soundlessly before resuming the heavy crash of pursuit. And always, always, it roared.
She angled toward the sound of rushing water, mind racing with hope and fear. The river. She could smell it now — wet moss, iron-rich stones, and the cold, crisp scent of deep current.
She leapt over a root, ducked beneath a branch that she only barely sensed from the shift of wind over bark. Thorns raked her arm, her leg, but she didn't stop. Her lungs burned.
Just a little further. Please…
The roar of the river grew louder. It was wide, unyielding, and swift.
She didn't slow. Instead, she launched forward, and suddenly the earth was gone beneath her.
She hit the water hard.
The river surged around her, pulling at her limbs like living hands. Cold crushed against her chest. Her head broke the surface with a gasp, water flooding her mouth. She sputtered, coughed, and turned. She felt the familiar burn of panic flare in her chest.
For a moment, there was only the river — pounding around her, pulling her deeper.
Then — the snarl. It came from above.
The lion paced the bank, muscles rippling beneath its dark coat. Its weight cracked old roots and stones as it stalked her from the shore.
It didn't seem willing to let such easy prey get away. It also did not want to swim after her either as it did not know how to.
All it could do was roar and slap at the water with its claws expressing anger as it watched the current drag her away.
Xue let the river carry her, arms barely keeping her afloat as her mind was still clawing at the moment.
Why didn't it follow and why—why do I feel relieved?
Wasn't this what she had come here for?
To die?
To vanish into some dark place where no one could hurt her, where she would never belong to Jin Wei or the elders or even her family's silent disappointment?
Then why did I run?
The current spun her lazily now, the immediate danger passed. She coughed, rolled onto her side, and let herself drift toward the bank. Her hand struck stone. Roots. Something stable. She clung to it and slowly dragged herself ashore, gasping, every muscle quivering with exhaustion.
The night wind kissed her wet skin. She collapsed in the mud and moss beside the river, chest heaving.
Her face pressed to the earth.
Tears spilled silently, blending with the water on her cheeks.
I came here to die.
Her hands gripped the soil.
I guess I don't want to die. I want to live. I just want to live on my own terms.
The moment she thought the words, it seemed as if a heavy burden had been lifted off her chest. Her heart felt lighter and her mind felt clearer. She did not want to die, not really. It was only now she could admit how foolish she had been. It was an overreaction created from the past several days.
Stupid emotions...
What was she to do now? She couldn't see and she was still in the woods.
She had to move.
Staying by the river too long was foolish. First of all, she didn't know if the beast would return, or if others lurked nearby, drawn by the scent of blood and wet flesh. Even if the Umbraclaw Lion feared water, it might still be watching.
Her legs were unsteady beneath her, but she began to walk, following the gentle incline of the riverbank upstream. She used her hands to feel the slope, the trees, the outcroppings of stone slick with moss. Her world was one of texture, sound, and scent — the splash of the river beside her, the earthy tang of damp soil, the subtle change in the air as she left open terrain behind.
The terrain grew uneven. Her foot slipped on loose shale, and she nearly tumbled forward.
Steady, she told herself. Keep going. Just a little farther.
Then something changed.
She stopped mid-step, head tilting slightly. The river sounded… wrong. Not louder. Not quieter. Just — off.
She turned her head, slowly, focusing. There, it was faint, barely distinguishable — the sound of water trickling beneath the earth.
It wasn't echoing like a stream flowing over stones. It was the softer, more muffled resonance of water moving behind stone.
She dropped to her knees and pressed her ear to the cold ground.
There it was, a hollow beneath the surface.
Carefully, she ran her hands across the base of a sloped outcrop, where thick roots had twisted down through broken rock. At first, there was nothing — only soil and vine and moss — but then her fingers caught on a patch of air. A crack, narrow and vertical, hidden beneath a curtain of vines and shaped like nothing more than a shadow in the earth.
It wasn't a path the eyes would ever see. The illusion of solid rock was perfect from above. Only the sound of running water trapped underground had given it away — and only to ears trained by years of blindness.
No cultivator, no hunter, no beast would ever have found it this way.
Well, perhaps a cultivator at a way higher cultivation. She wasn't particularly aware of what they could do. Regardless, nothing had ever seemed to have found this but she had.
Crawling forward, she pushed aside the vines and slid through the narrow opening. The passage was tight, her shoulders scraping stone, roots snagging her sleeves, and the air quickly turning colder and damper as she inched her way forward. Perhaps she could use this hidden area to hide for the night.
Suddenly, the passage widened and she fell forward slightly, landing on a smooth slope of stone.
The air here was still, thick with age and the tang of iron. The scent clung to the stone, not sharp and fresh, but deep and old — ancient. And in that scent, there was something else.
Something calling.
It seemed like she was not alone in here. At the same time, that wasn't quite right. She was alone, yet she wasn't alone. It was a very strange and mysterious feeling.
A low, near-imperceptible thrum vibrated through the rock beneath her palms.
She didn't know what lay deeper in the cave. What she did know was that no one had stepped foot in this place in countless years. In fact, is was most likely true that no one had ever explored it. It had waited. Hidden. Undiscovered.
Until now.
Until her.