Chapter 12: The Omen’s suspesion

Chapter 12: The Omen's suspesion

The air was still. Too still. Ling Huai stood beneath the dense forest canopy, the scent of damp earth and crushed leaves filling her lungs. The delicate silver flower lay in her palm, its glow soft but unwavering, as though it pulsed with an unseen energy. It was strange—almost sentient. She exhaled slowly, her grip tightening around it.

She wasn't going home.

Her guards were dead.

Her father would want her to play this game wisely. If she returned now, she would be walking into a trap. The ones who had ordered the execution wouldn't stop with her guards. They would come for her next. But if they believed she was already dead…

Yes. That was the best move.

She would disappear. Let them think she had perished. Let them lower their guard. Then, she would return when they least expected it.

A flick of her wrist sent the blue flower into her satchel. No grief. No hesitation. Only planning.

Bai Feng stood beside her, silent. His golden eyes held an unreadable emotion, but he said nothing. She knew he was watching her, waiting for some kind of reaction. Maybe he expected her to break down. To tremble. To weep for her lost guards.

She gave him none of that.

What was the point? Crying wouldn't bring them back.

She would honor them by surviving.

A sudden weight pressed onto her shoulders, the warm brush of fur against her neck. Ling Huai tensed. The Omen had draped himself lazily over her like a living scarf, his sleek black tail flicking against her cheek.

"I require sustenance," he purred, his deep voice curling through her mind.

She stilled. "…What?"

"Just a little," he continued, his violet eyes gleaming. "A few strings of your qi will suffice."

The sheer audacity.

Ling Huai's hand shot up, gripping the cat by the scruff, and she yanked him off her. The Omen let out a dramatic, exaggerated yhowl, twisting in the air before landing gracefully on all fours. His tail flicked again, this time in amusement.

"No," she said flatly.

The Omen sat primly before her, his gaze filled with mischief. "You wound me, little tamer."

"Call me that again and I'll wound you for real."

Bai Feng huffed, clearly unimpressed by the exchange. "You're too clingy for a so-called 'omen.'"

The black cat turned his head toward the fox, lips pulling back in a smirk. "And you're too stiff for a so-called 'beast.'"

Ling Huai rubbed her temple. This was already exhausting.

She narrowed her eyes at the cat. "Remove the bond."

The Omen merely stretched, yawning. "No."

"No?"

"I like you."

She blinked. "…What?"

"You heard me." His tail swayed lazily. "Why would I leave? You are the first to reject me in my life. It's… intriguing."

She took a slow, measured breath. "What are your motives?"

His violet gaze met hers, and for once, there was no sarcasm—only something deep and unreadable. "You are not hostile," he said, his tone unusually gentle. "You possess a great beast-taming bloodline. Of course, I would follow you."

Her heart skipped.

But then, the Omen tilted his head, eyes dark with something knowing. "And your aura… it is strange. Almost… otherworldly."

She froze.

He smirked.

A cold sensation ran down her spine. Otherworldly. The word clung to her like a curse. Did he know? Could he sense it?

Her luck was abysmal. Out of all the beasts she could have encountered, she had to contract the one smart enough to notice something was off about her.

Her fingers twitched. She should've beaten that smug look off his face the moment she saw him.

But it was too late now.

The Omen stretched again before leaping lightly onto her shoulder, curling his tail around her neck. "Well, Ling Huai? Shall we continue, or will you stand here all night?"

She exhaled sharply, shoving her lingering unease aside.

She wasn't going to let some oversized feline distract her.

If she was trapped with him, then fine. She would deal with it.

"Let's go," she muttered, moving forward.

Bai Feng followed closely, but not before shooting a glare at the smug cat still perched on her shoulder.

They ventured deeper into the forest, pushing past towering trees and thick underbrush. The night was cold, but Ling Huai barely noticed. After nearly an hour of wandering, she spotted a strange tree nestled between two jagged rocks. Its gnarled branches bore delicate, frost-covered apples that emitted a faint glow.

Winter apples.

A rare fruit known for its restorative properties. Capable of healing broken meridians, nourishing qi, and even extending life. Her pulse quickened. She retrieved ten, carefully tucking them into her satchel. Then, after a moment of hesitation, she ate two, feeling warmth spread through her veins as the fruit's essence worked its magic.

Satisfied, she pressed onward until she found a cave nestled within the mountainside. It wasn't much, but it would do. She gathered dry wood and started a bonfire, the flickering flames casting long shadows across the stone walls. With swift efficiency, she gathered soft moss and leaves, crafting a makeshift bed.

Just as she was settling in, a rustling sound echoed through the cave entrance. A beast emerged—a massive, tusked creature with crimson eyes, its breath fogging in the cold air. It lunged at her, hunger burning in its gaze.

Ling Huai didn't hesitate.

With precise movements, she dodged its attack, her blade flashing as she struck. The battle was short but fierce. When the beast finally collapsed, she exhaled, wiping her blade clean. She roasted the meat over the fire, sharing the meal with Bai Feng and the Omen, who both ate with obvious satisfaction.

As the night deepened, Ling Huai leaned against the cave wall, staring into the flames. The Omen, stretched lazily across her lap, flicked his tail and glanced up at her.

"How long do you plan to stay with me?" she asked, voice quiet.

He shrugged, a smug smile curling at his lips. "Forever."

She sighed. Of course.

As the fire crackled, her thoughts drifted. She thought about everything—her past life, her current life, the trials she had faced. The betrayals, the loneliness, the relentless struggle to survive. A weight settled in her chest.

A single tear slipped down her cheek.

She didn't wipe it away.

The night was long, but Ling Huai knew one thing for certain—this was only the beginning.