chapter 6

The Mountain of the Deceased

The day had started as any other. The morning air was crisp, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth as Bei Zui sat cross-legged on a worn-out mat outside his small courtyard. His breathing was steady, his mind emptying itself of distractions as he slipped into deep meditation.

The sect grounds were unusually quiet, save for the distant murmurs of disciples practicing their techniques and the occasional rustling of wind through the trees. This was the only time of day he could find some semblance of peace, away from the sneering gazes and muttered insults that followed him wherever he went.

That peace, however, was short-lived.

A shadow fell over him, and before he could open his eyes, a sharp voice cut through the morning stillness.

"Bei Zui, stop lazing around like a useless dog."

Bei Zui exhaled slowly, cracking one eye open to see Senior Disciple Liu Xian standing before him, arms crossed. Liu Xian was a well-known alchemist within the sect—an arrogant man with an inflated sense of self-importance. His long dark robes were embroidered with golden threads, a clear sign of his higher status.

Bei Zui didn't rise. Instead, he remained seated, his expression unreadable. "Senior Liu Xian," he acknowledged flatly.

Liu Xian sneered at the lack of reverence in his tone but continued, "I require your assistance with an important task. There's an ingredient I need for an advanced elixir I'm working on—a red spider lily that grows on the Mountain of the Deceased. I assume even someone of your low standing knows what that place is?"

Bei Zui frowned slightly. "No, I don't."

Liu Xian let out a huff, as if irritated by his ignorance. "Figures. It's a cursed place. No one who has entered has ever returned."

Bei Zui's brow lifted. "Then why don't you go yourself?"

Liu Xian's eyes flashed with irritation. "Because I have more important matters to attend to, you ignorant fool. You should be grateful for the opportunity to make yourself useful."

Bei Zui held his gaze, expression calm. "If it's so dangerous, shouldn't you send an inner disciple? Or perhaps a senior with actual experience?"

Liu Xian's face darkened, his patience fraying. "Are you refusing an order?"

"I'm refusing an unreasonable request," Bei Zui corrected smoothly.

Liu Xian clenched his fists, but before he could say anything more, the sound of footsteps approaching made him pause.

A group of senior disciples walked toward them, their robes immaculate, their demeanor exuding superiority. Among them was a young man who stood out from the rest—his features sharp, his posture exuding confidence.

The Sect Leader's son, Jiang Fei.

Liu Xian's expression shifted in an instant. Like a drowning man grasping at driftwood, he turned to the approaching group with a pitiful expression.

"Senior Jiang Fei, fellow seniors, you must help me reason with this arrogant boy. I merely asked him for a small favor, but he refuses to obey, disrespecting both seniority and the sect's hierarchy."

Bei Zui remained silent as Jiang Fei's sharp gaze landed on him.

"Is that so?" Jiang Fei asked, his voice carrying an unmistakable authority. He stepped closer, studying Bei Zui like one would an insect beneath their shoe. "You think yourself above your station?"

Bei Zui met his gaze without fear. "I think myself capable of making my own decisions."

The surrounding disciples let out quiet murmurs of disbelief. His words were bold, almost suicidal, given who he was speaking to.

Jiang Fei's lips curled into something between amusement and disdain. "Interesting. But let me remind you of something, Bei Zui. You are nothing here. You are an outer disciple—expendable, replaceable. You have no right to refuse an order from your betters."

Bei Zui said nothing.

Jiang Fei's smirk deepened. "But since you seem to struggle with understanding your place, allow me to put it plainly. You will retrieve whatever he has sent you. If you refuse, I will personally see to it that you are cast out of the sect and thrown back into the mortal world. And believe me, no other sect will take in a defiant, good-for-nothing stray."

The weight of his words settled heavily in the air.

Bei Zui wasn't foolish. He knew nothing of the cultivation world, knew nothing of how sects operated beyond the surface. He had no connections, no status, nothing to shield him from the whims of those more powerful. If he was expelled, he would have nowhere to go.

For now, he could only endure.

"Understood," Bei Zui said quietly.

Jiang Fei's smile widened, but there was no warmth in it. "Good. See? That wasn't so difficult."

The group of seniors chuckled, amused by their leader's effortless show of authority. Liu Xian, smug with victory, gave Bei Zui a condescending look.

"Then it's settled," Jiang Fei said. "You leave at dawn."

With that, the group departed, their laughter fading into the distance.

Bei Zui stood still for a long moment, his golden eyes narrowing slightly as he stared in the direction they had gone.

Then, without a word, he turned and walked away.

---

The Mountain of the Deceased

The morning sun barely pierced through the heavy mist shrouding the mountain's peak. Shadows stretched long across the jagged terrain, painting the path ahead in a twisted mosaic of bone-white rocks and dried bloodstains. The scent of decay was suffocating, thick enough to coat Bei Zui's throat with a bitter tang.

He stopped at the mountain's entrance, surveying the scene before him.

Scattered across the ground were remains—not just of animals, but of humans. Some skeletal, others still rotting, their flesh torn apart by forces unknown. A deep, unnatural red mist clung to the ground like grasping fingers, shifting and coiling as though it were alive.

Bei Zui exhaled through his nose. So this is what they sent me to.

He had heard of cursed places before. Folktales whispered among mortals, stories meant to keep foolish men from wandering too far. But standing here, seeing the aftermath of whatever dwelled in these shadows, he realized something—this was no ordinary death trap.

They really want me dead.

His lips quirked upward. A hollow, humorless smile.

Jiang Fei, Liu Xian… what a pathetic way to try and get rid of someone.

He took a step forward, the crunch of bones beneath his boots filling the heavy silence. The wind howled through the skeletal trees, carrying with it the faintest echoes of screams—whether they were real or a trick of the mountain, he didn't know.

But they underestimate me.

It was almost laughable. They assumed he would walk in, panic, and die like a fool. But he wasn't a fool. His entire life had been one of survival, of learning quickly or being trampled underfoot. This was no different.

If something lurks here, it can be killed. If something hunts here, it can bleed.

His golden eyes glinted as he stepped further into the cursed mountain, the mist curling around him like an omen.

And if you bleed, you can die.

---

Back at the Sect

Jiang Fei leaned back against the wooden railing of the pavilion, a cup of fine wine in his hand. The morning breeze was pleasant, carrying the faint scent of blooming lotuses from the nearby pond. It was a perfect day.

Liu Xian sat across from him, a smug look on his face.

"You really think he'll last more than an hour in that place?" Liu Xian chuckled, swirling his own cup lazily.

Jiang Fei smirked. "It doesn't matter. Whether it's an hour or a day, the result will be the same."

Liu Xian nodded, clearly pleased with himself. "That arrogant brat had it coming. Outer sect disciples should know their place."

Jiang Fei tilted his head, studying Liu Xian for a moment before letting out a quiet laugh.

"You know," he mused, "I have to admire your method. No need to get your own hands dirty, no need to risk punishment. Just send an unwanted stray into the jaws of death and let the mountain do the work."

Liu Xian grinned. "You flatter me, Young Master Jiang."

Jiang Fei raised his cup in a mock toast. "To clever solutions."

Their laughter echoed through the sect, completely unaware that the stray they had discarded was already planning how to walk out of hell alive.

______

Not far from where Jiang Fei and Liu Xian lounged in smug satisfaction, a few female disciples stood near a cherry blossom tree, their hushed voices blending with the rustling leaves.

One of them, a young woman with soft features and worried eyes, bit her lip. "Did you hear? They sent Bei Zui to the Mountain of the Deceased."

Another girl gasped, covering her mouth. "That place? No one ever returns from there… Why would they send him?"

A third disciple scoffed but didn't quite manage to hide the concern in her gaze. "You know why. He's too talented for an outer sect disciple. They want him gone before he becomes a threat."

The first girl clasped her hands together, as if in silent prayer. "He's quiet, but he never did anything wrong… I hope he makes it back."

The others exchanged glances, hesitant. None of them dared to say it aloud, but in their hearts, they silently wished for the impossible.

That Bei Zui would defy fate.

That he would return.

And that when he did—he would make those who wronged him regret it.