The silence following the man's final words was more profound than any noise. It was a vacuum, broken only by the faint sizzle of corrupting mist seeping from his arrow wounds. The air around his body grew thin and cold.
The scent of pine and earth was replaced by a hollow emptiness, like the air inside a long-sealed tomb. Li Wei closed the final distance to stand beside Wù Fēng and Xuán Chè. His frost-amber eyes narrowed in cold, analytical fury.
He did not touch the corpse. The malevolent energy radiating from the arrows was a physical pressure against his senses. Its cold rivaled his own but felt utterly alien in its hunger.
Yǒngshèng Jīng…
The name echoed in his mind. For a disorienting heartbeat, it was not a warning. It was the scent of sandalwood and tea in a polished showroom. It was the memory of Xuán Líng's patient voice teaching him to appraise a spiritual artifact's aura.
The mental image shattered, replaced by the scout's terror. A horrible feeling settled in Li Wei's stomach. Then, a violent new picture was forced over the old memory.
He saw the polished floors of Yǒngshèng Zhēnbǎo Gé stained with blood. The serene halls echoed with screams; priceless artifacts lay defiled. This was not just an attack. It was a violation of a sanctuary, a direct strike at his family's heart.
The pain of the vision made his knees buckle. He reached for his temple with a pained growl. Wù Fēng lifted a palm to Li Wei's head, channeling soothing energy.
"Are you okay?" Xuán Chè asked, grabbing Li Wei's shoulders to steady him.
"I'm okay," Li Wei shook his head, trying to clear the dizziness. "I'm okay."
"Wù Fēng," Xuán Chè began nervously. "Did that man say Yǒngshèng Jīng was overrun?"
"That is exactly what he said," Wù Fēng confirmed.
"But their defenses are the best. How could this happen?" Xuán Chè shook his head, perplexed.
"I saw it," Li Wei finally said. "I could see Yǒngshèng Zhēnbǎo Gé…"
He lacked the words for what had happened. But Wù Fēng's knowing, solemn look promised a conversation soon.
Wù Fēng waved a hand over the body. A faint divine luminescence emanated from his palm as he inspected it. "The corruption did not taint the man from within. The source is external—the arrowheads themselves are the poison."
His gaze shifted to Xuán Chè. The god's expression was that of a master assigning a lesson. "Xuán Chè, tell me what you sense here."
It was a dual command: to solve the mystery and to sharpen the mortal's untrained senses. Xuán Chè knelt and closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling in the air.
"I feel a cold emptiness," he began, his brow furrowed. "It's like a hunger. It's not just killing; it's consuming. It feels... old. And terribly sad."
Wù Fēng gave a slow, approving nod. "Good. You are sensing the intent behind it. Remember that. The 'what' is often less important than the 'why.' Now, what of the arrows? Look past the horror. See the craft."
Xuán Chè opened his eyes, studying the black-fletched arrow. "The workmanship is perfect," he realized, a chill running down his spine. "This was made by a master. But it does not feel… human?"
"More dark cultivators?" Li Wei asked.
Wù Fēng's face grimaced with heartbreaking realization. "That is what worries me most. I know this craftsmanship." He looked from the arrow to their faces. "I know who forged these. And he has been sealed away for five thousand years."
They returned to the inn, the day's peace utterly shattered. The common room was thick with grim tension. Wù Fēng gave Qiānyí, Yīshā, and a wide-eyed Zhōu Línglóng a concise account of the scout and the situation in Yǒngshèng Jīng.
Yīshā's hands clenched into fists, her light flickering with protective fury. Qiānyí's face was a mask of calm, but her knuckles were white where she gripped the table.
"We must inform Mother," Qiānyí stated, her voice leaving no room for argument.
"Precisely," Wù Fēng agreed. He looked at his four disciples and the mortal girl swept up in their tide. "All communication between deities is done through spiritual envoys. They are constructs of will and energy, capable of traversing realms."
He held out his hand. A wisp of opalescent energy coalesced into a tiny, elegant crane, its wings beating with a silent, celestial rhythm.
"The form is a matter of preference. I chose the crane for grace. You must imbue it with your will, your message, and the recipient's spiritual signature." He turned his attention to the crane, his voice formal and resonant.
"Message for Xuán Líng, the Venerable of the Triple Ascent, the Unaligned Sovereign."
The titles hung in the air, befitting the only demon to survive all three heavenly tribulations. The crane glowed brighter, awaiting the message.
"Your children are with me. They are safe." A slight smile touched his lips. "And by the way… the work of your 'old friend' has resurfaced."
With a flick of his wrist, the spiritual crane burst into light and shot through the roof, vanishing into the ether.
"Now," Wù Fēng said, turning back to the group. "It is your turn. You must each find the form that speaks to your spirit. We begin with a message to your mother, telling her you are unharmed."
Qiānyí closed her eyes with serene focus. A wisp of golden energy swirled from her fingertips, forming a pristine white crane. "We are doing well," she whispered. "We have learned a lot. Oh, and Li Wei has grown an extra tail." The crane gave a soft, chiming call and fluttered away.
Yisha grinned, her light gathering into a luminous, bouncy rabbit. "Mother, we're doing well. I miss your wine already. We're headed to Yǒngshèng Jīng. There's major trouble there." The rabbit wiggled its nose and shot away like an arrow.
Li Wei's envoy was a miniature frost fox kit, its seven tails a proud plume. Its message was carried in intent. My lady, much has happened. Yisha triggered the heavenly trial and we survived. Xuán Chè is a good kid. You need not worry. The tiny fox dissolved into a luminescent mist.
He sent a second message to the young gate guard, Xiǎo Ān. Expect refugees from Píng'ān. The problem is dealt with. Help them settle. Report any issues directly to Xuan Ling.
Xuán Chè watched, genuinely excited. Assuming he lacked the língqì, he merely thought of his warm loyalty. To his astonishment, a tiny, luminescent ember fox appeared on the table. It blinked up at him happily before zipping away with his wordless goodwill.
Línglóng's heart pounded with newfound purpose. She decided Li Wei was right; she needed to live for herself. She wanted to become a cultivator. Looking at Xuán Chè, she thought with fierce determination, If he can do it, I can do it!
She approached the group, her bravado replaced by shy resolve. "You are going to Yǒngshèng Jīng?"
"Yes, we are," Yisha confirmed.
"May I accompany you?" Línglóng asked, her voice gaining strength. "I want to be a cultivator."
Wù Fēng observed from behind the counter, casually tasting wines and saying nothing.
"No," Li Wei answered firmly. "Stay here where it's safe."
"But—" Línglóng began.
"She can't stay here alone," Xuán Chè interrupted, coming to her defense. "What if more dark cultivators show up?"
Línglóng, offended, rounded on him. "I'm perfectly capable! I've survived on my own for two months!"
"I was merely trying to help!" Xuán Chè argued.
"I don't need your help!" she retorted.
Their familiar bickering continued. Finally, Yisha cut through the noise. "If you want to come, that is your decision. But you must listen to us." She glanced towards the counter. "As for cultivation... that is up to him."
Wù Fēng stood, cup in hand. He looked at Línglóng's hopeful face, then at his disciples' determined ones.
"Fine," he said, his tone deceptively light. "But this is not a field trip."
Meanwhile, in her moonlit aerie, Xuán Líng received the cascade of messages. Wù Fēng's celestial crane arrived first. A gentle smile grew on her lips as she absorbed its contents. "So he stayed in this realm after all," she murmured to the empty night.
Then came her children's messages. Qiānyí's elegant crane brought a wave of maternal pride. Yisha's playful rabbit made her chuckle aloud. Their spirits were thriving.
But Li Wei's message, carried on the intent of a faithful frost fox, transformed her smile into a mask of deep worry. He was walking the same treacherous path she had, building his strength to be a better protector.
Her worry grew from what he had deduced but not shared. Wù Fēng's arrival was no coincidence. He knew them all from before.
Her mind drifted back millennia. She saw a young, idealistic Wù Fēng, his faith in the celestial order unshaken. She, the cynical demon, had warned him of a faction moving in the shadows, gods who played with mortal lives.
He had refused to believe the institution he revered could harbor such corruption. Her final words to him had been an ultimatum born of protective fury. "If you trust their lies over my truth, then I cannot trust you. Do not contact me again."
His presence here, as her children's mentor, was his silent, long-awaited answer. He had finally seen through the celestial court's illusions. He had come to stand with her by protecting what she held most dear.
The game was far more dangerous than her children imagined. Their new master was not just a teacher. He was a penitent ally, also searching for the truth of who destroyed his and the girls' ancient clan.
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© 2025 Kiesha Richardson, writing as QiXia. All rights reserved.
Death Blooms for You is an original work of fiction by QiXia. Unauthorized reproduction, distribution, or adaptation of this story in any form is prohibited. All characters, events, and settings are created for entertainment purposes and bear no intentional resemblance to real persons or situations.