"And do you know what he did instead of what I told him to do?" The curse continued, her fingers thoughtfully running slow yet deliberately over the hem of her own robe from the cleavage, eyes half-lidded with that satisfied smirk.
Lìngxiāo could half guess what it could be.
Perhaps because he was still alive, breathing—not dead as he was supposed to be. He still couldn't handle this much weight of everything pressed over his shoulder and inside his chest. He felt dead inside with each reveal from the curse.
Yet still struggling to actually hate him for his ugly records.
"He loved you." The curse muttered dryly. "He did not kill you in time and came to me empty handed. So now..you are an expired product for me.."
She carelessly pressed one of her bare feet over Lìngxiāo's uncle's throat. "So I ate away that soul he had made tasty enough by the ageless cultivation. A fair punishment according to curse laws."
She put her chin in her palm, squeezing her breasts together. "What should I do with..you now, sweetheart?~" She giggled into thoughtful amazement, almost tender yet cold and hollow. The edges of her voice were sharp and piercing.
For a moment, Lìngxiāo's breath stopped. The words rang into his head.
His uncle loved him.
Loved him too much to break a deadly contract he was taking benefits from. He would have been alive if Lìngxiāo wasn't alive at all.
His mind started to race slowly as if a heart was getting back its pulse again. But even he didn't know if his mind was taking his uncle's side or the right things.
'It is my fault again..my fault again..'
'Why was I even born..?'
'To lose the people I loved the most and wanted to be with..like a family..?'
'Should I hate him for even making me care for him or feel guilty..that because of loving me back, now he no longer exists in this world?'
'But..he wished for a good life..that was why he was doing it..he was helpless..'
'What is the meaning of everything..was this day..supposed to come anyway? He could have saved all those years of his cultivation..'
'But..but also he does not have the right..to kill people to live..'
'I do not even know if I want to live anymore or not.'
He shut his eyes, his teeth felt like breaking under his force. His right fist clenched into the frozen ice, cracking it lightly. His chest rose and fell in a slow, tight rhythm like he couldn't breathe.
'Am I wrong..to still not be able to hate him..?'
"Your soul..might not come in work in a way I expected. But still..it is not totally useless." The curse purred, bringing him back to reality.
One moment, she was far enough, and then within a blink, she was right in front of him. She didn't even give him time to look at her.
His eyes met hers while wide so much that the thin veins in them hurt. Hers up so close were hollow black with a pair of red moons inside, caged behind that mask which seemed to have its own history.
She smiled like a pressed-up smirk, cupping his face with both of her cold long hands. Her body pressed against his too intimately than he could take.
He was already struggling with his emotions, his sadness, and now this embarrassment mixing with the highest level of panic.
"Le-let go of me!" Lìngxiāo struggled, his voice high-pitched, trembling violently.
The curse was just simply staring at him creepily, like she was staring at his very soul while here he couldn't breathe. "Is it my fault that you have followed my moths here, little golden moth?"
"Such a good-looking human you are. So simple than ever. But have everything to earn that title from me." The curse said, pushing Lìngxiāo's hair from his face deliberately to have a clear look.
She paused for a second, then chuckled sharply. "Why so much trouble? Let me just eat you up too. You are too tiny for me."
"No-oh.." his breath caught into his throat. The touch was dangerous.
He tried to draw symbols to summon Mō Qīn. But he couldn't move. His hands were slowly being held down by the curse's hair like snakes. It held him down so in detail that not only his hands were bound, but his fingers too—left them stiff and unresponsive to use.
His frozen ice burned and melted under the press of the hair, keeping him firmly over the ground as he was left that way before. But his powers were still undeveloped and unsteady to even properly work. It only made his own hands burn.
'It hurts too much..my skin is burning..'
He whimpered, biting back more cries though not fully. It burned and cooled more than actual fire or ice—his own powers harming him back because of shutting down any kind of recovery energy. He couldn't steady himself either—which happens when a cultivator breaks from inside totally, where they themselves don't have control over their own power.
He couldn't return from it easily.
Dying any other way was better, but this..it was a torture in the worst way possible.
"Shh.." The curse hushed softly, though she yanked his head back—hard by his hair after removing his hat.
The pain at his skull was unbearable.
His mouth hung open with too much pain than he had learned of bearing, breathing through his mouth with faint sounds like a dying fish. Bloodshot tears falling from his tightly shut eyes, his mind feeling blank.
Like he was at the middle of life and death.
"It would hurt more if you cry, golden moth. Let me taste how much he has grown you.." The curse guided his head to her own parted mouth, using her other hand to roughly part Lìngxiāo's lips.
Just when his mouth parted, his breath hitched by that slow but violent pull. His eyes flew open, trying to break the contact weakly—which was useless.
His chest—where the cultivation core lay, and right beside it—the soul glowed clear enough that he himself could feel. The hue raised from his chest to his throat, moving towards the curse's mouth.
The curse was pulling out his soul. He couldn't believe she called it "just a bit."
'N-no no no..I am dying.. I am really dying..no..'
Each second only made him more and more desperate to break free. His jaw hurting from being handled this roughly.
His mind kept repeating the good memories. His days with his father. His uncle. Even Chóng Fēi whom he hadn't seen in years—but still his one and only companion, an unspoken friendship that was never meant to stay within the situation it was in.
The memories were some words and some unspoken. Just as a dead mind does—for the next seven minutes before death.
"Xiǎo Lìng did it! I not! He wanted to share with me!"
"Your pàpà is my pàpà. But my pàpà is my pàpà. Your toy is my toy. But my old toys are yours. Did Mute shù fu make it?! Give me!"
"Why did they call you? Playing with others. This is I, Chóng Fēi's order."
"All you have to do is trust me."
"And then see how this flows to you like a wave of pleasure."
"You did it, boy."
"It is winter and you would let it leave without having some ice dance? Are you the older one or me?"
"Come on, step on the ice. It is not that powerful then yours one to swallow you."
"Ah, still cannot? Here, grab my hand. Now it would flow like a dance."
All the voices were loud and alive that he could tell who was who without thinking twice. The words..those had faces. Some were pointing.
And the last one from his uncle—cut too deep in the most gentle way:
"Living with a healthy body is a blessing even if it is kind of..bitter. As long as you are alive, you have the pen to write your story.
But if you pause in a wrong time—you fade, nothing stays as you had been building. Past is past—a chapter you have already written. Let your readers cry over it while you write your next epic. And about me—I would probably be that snuggling side character drinking liquor at a corner with some beautiful ladies who would be alive and cheering for you—but still worth it. Because it is your story."
His hands fell at his sides, unresponsive. His half-lidded eyes fallen over the corpse of his uncle behind.
'He was just lifesick. He left everything to see me alive..and I am..waiting all.'
Though his body barely worked, he thought:
'I..I want to live.'
"Then live into this hell. I would est you bit by bit. Spacial things take time~" The curse purred softly—heard his thoughts.
And the rest—he didn't know or remember fully. The last thing was he was falling from that valley he crossed. And that curse was watching him fall after having some fight with any curse—he didn't notice. But he didn't know how he ended up here or what happened in between.
His hair floated violently, covering his face, his hand loosely raised up while falling.
All he knew was that he couldn't respond.
**