CHAPTER 34 — Falling Petal Valley (Part Two)
The shattered mirror lay in pieces.
Yet the air still felt… watched.
Lian did not lower her sword.
Her stance remained rigid, like a wolf sensing something just beyond sight.
Zheng Wen Te's breathing was uneven.
That whisper—
it had not come from outside.
It had come from inside him.
"You took too long."
He swallowed hard.
"Did you hear it?"
Lian's eyes flicked toward him.
"I heard nothing."
Zheng Wen Te froze.
"What?"
Lian's voice was low.
"The petals moved. The mirror broke. I saw a shadow…"
"But no voice."
A coldness crawled up Zheng Wen Te's spine.
So it was only for him.
Only for the one who owed the debt.
Lian stepped forward, careful, scanning the mist.
"This valley is a formation."
Zheng Wen Te blinked.
"A… trap?"
Lian nodded slightly.
"Not built by the sect."
Her gaze sharpened.
"Built by someone who knows spiritual arts far beyond an outer disciple."
They moved deeper.
The fog thickened.
Petals continued to fall, endless, silent.
No wind.
No source.
Just falling.
As if the valley itself was shedding something.
Then they saw them.
Footprints.
Bare.
Small.
Feminine.
Pressed into the soft earth, leading toward the heart of the valley.
Zheng Wen Te stared.
His mouth went dry.
"She walked barefoot?"
Lian crouched, touching the print.
"…Recently."
Zheng Wen Te's heart hammered.
Lian stood.
"We follow."
They passed ruined stone lanterns, cracked and overgrown.
They passed trees with talismans nailed into their bark—old, rotting, written in a script Zheng Wen Te could not recognize.
But the feeling they carried was unmistakable.
Warning.
Suppression.
Fear.
Then—
a sound.
A laugh.
Soft.
Almost amused.
It drifted through the mist like a thread.
Lian spun.
"Who's there?!"
Nothing answered.
But the laugh came again, closer.
Zheng Wen Te whispered:
"…She's playing with us."
Lian's jaw tightened.
"This is not a game."
They reached a clearing.
And stopped.
Because someone was already there.
A figure knelt beneath the largest tree, back turned.
Long black hair spilled like ink down her robes.
Petals gathered around her knees as if they worshipped her.
Zheng Wen Te could not move.
His lungs refused air.
Lian's sword trembled slightly.
"Disciple!" she called sharply.
"Turn around!"
The figure did not rise.
Did not flinch.
For a moment, Zheng Wen Te thought she might be dead.
Then—
she spoke.
Her voice was calm.
Too calm.
"Senior Sister…"
Lian stiffened.
"You know who I am?"
The girl tilted her head slightly.
"I know everyone who enters my valley."
Zheng Wen Te's lips parted.
"…Your valley?"
The girl's shoulders shook faintly.
Not with fear.
With laughter.
Then she whispered, so softly it was almost tender:
"And I know the one who abandoned me."
Zheng Wen Te's soul went cold.
The figure began to stand.
Slowly.
Petals rose into the air.
The mist curled inward.
And for the first time…
she started to turn.