Chapter 7

The mountain path was treacherous, lined with jagged rocks and twisted trees whose gnarled branches reached like skeletal hands toward the dark sky. The air was thick, damp, carrying the scent of decay. A thin mist coiled around Bei Zui's ankles as he walked, his steps slow, deliberate. He knew better than to be careless in a place like this.

His fingers twitched by his side, an old habit he had developed when he felt uneasy. Vigilance was survival. And in a place where the dead did not rest, he needed every ounce of it.

Still, regret weighed on him.

If I never came to the Azure Sky Sect, I would be home right now.

The thought gnawed at him like a dull blade scraping against bone. He could almost picture it—his mother's worried frown, his father's quiet nod, waiting for him to return. He was supposed to be there, taking care of them, not trapped in this accursed sect that refused to let him even practice.

He had asked for permission. Begged, even. The elders had barely spared him a glance before dismissing him outright.

"A disciple must focus on their cultivation, not dwell on mortal ties."

What a joke.

Bei Zui clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms. They spoke of cultivation as though it was some sacred path, but all he saw was cruelty wrapped in pretty words. They had taken him in, but they had also shackled him. Fed him scraps of knowledge, kept him weak, kept him obedient.

And Master Ren…

His gut twisted at the name. Master Ren was the worst of them. A man who spoke of duty while holding his disciples by the throat. A man who smiled as he stripped away their freedom, piece by piece.

"You are fortunate to be here, Bei Zui."

Fortunate?

I am no more than a prisoner here.

Hatred simmered beneath his skin, slow-burning but steady. He did not let it show—not yet. But one day, he would make them regret it.

The path before him narrowed, leading to a towering cliffside. At its peak, a cave mouth gaped open, swallowing the light. The air was colder here, and Bei Zui felt it creep into his bones.

With a deep breath, he stepped inside.

The cave was eerily silent. Not even the distant chirping of insects could be heard. The darkness was heavy, thick, almost alive. But as Bei Zui's eyes adjusted, he saw it—a delicate spider lily, crimson as fresh-spilled blood, blooming under a crack where moonlight spilled in like silver threads.

His breath caught.

The flower was rare. Coveted. Said to grow only where death was strongest.

Bei Zui scanned the cave, ensuring nothing lurked in the shadows. His instincts screamed at him to be careful. But the flower was there, within reach.

He moved forward.

Carefully, he reached out and plucked it—

A sound like tearing flesh filled the air.

From the cracks in the cave walls, something slithered.

Blood-red chains erupted from the stone, writhing like living things. They lashed out, wrapping around Bei Zui's wrists, his ankles, his throat. He barely had time to react before they yanked him off the ground.

He dangled midair, the spider lily still clenched in his grasp.

The chains tightened, biting into his flesh. A sharp, searing pain spread through him, and for the first time, fear curled around his ribs.

Then—

A voice.

A grotesque, bone-deep voice that seemed to come from everywhere at once.

"Ahhh… what a good body."

Bei Zui's breath stilled.

The voice was not human. It was something ancient, something hungry.

The cave shuddered. A thick, red mist seeped from the ground, curling around Bei Zui like a predator tasting its prey. It filled his lungs, heavy, suffocating. His limbs trembled as he struggled, but the more he fought, the tighter the chains became.

"So young… so untainted."

The voice laughed. A sound wet and gurgling, like something choking on its own existence.

"You will do nicely."

The mist grew thicker. His vision blurred. His body felt cold. The last thing Bei Zui saw was the spider lily slipping from his grasp, falling to the ground—

And then, everything went dark.

______

Pain.

A deep, marrow-deep agony that spread through Bei Zui's bones like fire.

He groaned, head lolling to the side as his senses sluggishly returned. His skull felt like it had been split open, his heartbeat an erratic hammer against his ribs. His lungs burned, each breath a struggle, like he was still drowning in that damned mist.

For a long moment, he just lay there, eyes squeezed shut. The cold, damp cave floor pressed against his back, the scent of blood and stone thick in the air.

Then—movement.

Bei Zui forced himself upright, and instantly regretted it.

A sharp, searing pain lanced through his chest, making his vision blur at the edges. His arms trembled as he pushed himself to his feet. He swayed, the world tilting violently.

His balance was wrong.

His limbs felt sluggish, too heavy, like something inside him had shifted. He tried to reach into his spiritual space—

Pain.

A sharp, merciless backlash slammed into him, sending him staggering back. His knees nearly buckled as his breath hitched. His spiritual space, once light and steady, now felt dense, suffocating. Something inside it was wrong.

He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to ignore it.

There was no time to figure it out now.

His gaze landed on the red spider lily, still lying where he had dropped it.

All that suffering… and this was the reward?

A single, delicate flower.

Bei Zui exhaled sharply, brushing off the dirt as he picked it up. The petals were soft against his fingertips, their deep crimson hue unnervingly vivid in the moonlight.

He shoved it into his sleeve before turning back toward the path.

The way down was narrow and treacherous, made worse by the sheer exhaustion pressing down on him. Every step felt like he was walking through water, his body sluggish, his vision swimming.

He stumbled.

His foot caught on a loose rock, and before he could steady himself, his body lurched sideways—

Damn it—

His shoulder slammed into the jagged wall, the impact rattling his already aching bones. He gritted his teeth, steadying himself with a shaky breath.

Something was off.

His limbs, his balance, his very breath—it all felt wrong.

It wasn't just exhaustion.

It wasn't just pain.

Something had changed inside him.

And whatever it was, it wasn't done with him yet.

Bei Zui shook off the daze, his breathing uneven. Every step felt heavier, every breath shallower. Something inside him had shifted—no, something had taken root.

As he continued down the treacherous path, a distant whisper crawled through his skull. A voice. Soft, sinister, like silk drenched in blood.

"You took what was mine… Now, I take what is yours."

He stopped.

His pulse pounded in his ears. The voice didn't come from behind him or around him—it came from within.

Bei Zui's grip on his sleeve tightened around the spider lily. His jaw clenched, his mind racing.

Had the mist done something to him?

A sharp pain shot through his chest, and he dropped to one knee, gasping. His veins burned. His spiritual energy twisted violently inside him, coiling like a caged beast.

Something was inside him.

A presence.

A will that was not his own.

"Weak body… but sufficient."

Bei Zui snarled, forcing himself up. No. Whatever this was, he would not be consumed by it.

But even as he steadied himself, his reflection flickered in a nearby pool of water—and his eyes… were no longer his own.

They gleamed an eerie, bloodstained red.

____

A storm raged inside Bei Zui's mind.

He staggered forward, clutching his head as a burning sensation spread from his core to his limbs, turning his veins to fire. His breath came in short, ragged bursts. The red spider lily in his grasp trembled, petals wilting under the pressure of his fingers.

"Why resist?" The voice slithered through his consciousness like a snake winding around prey.

Bei Zui gritted his teeth. His body was no longer entirely his own. His muscles jerked against his will, his hands trembling, fingers curling unnaturally. A force deeper than any spiritual energy surged inside him, clawing at his mind.

And then—he wasn't alone.

The world around him twisted into a void. The one-way path, the cold mountain wind, the looming trees—they all faded, swallowed into nothingness. Bei Zui stood on a plane of endless darkness, a blood-red mist curling at his feet.

And in front of him, it stood.

A shadow shaped like a man, but wrong in every way. Limbs too long, a head tilted unnaturally, its entire form a writhing mass of blood and smoke. No face—only two glowing slits, watching him with something far worse than hunger.

Amusement.

"You are dying, child," it purred. "Your body is already cracking under the strain. Let me help you."

Bei Zui clenched his fists. "You're the reason I feel like this."

"Because you resist."

The entity moved closer. Shadows stretched, reaching for him.

"I can take away your pain."

A pulse of energy surged through Bei Zui's limbs. Strength. His body no longer ached—his exhaustion vanished. The weight that had pressed down on him lifted.

His robes, torn and tattered from his struggle, mended themselves. A surge of overwhelming power coursed through him, intoxicating in its sheer magnitude.

"You could destroy Master Ren. You hate him, don't you?"

The entity's voice was honeyed, its words weaving into his thoughts.

"You could command the Azure Sky Sect itself. No more kneeling. No more being ignored. No more begging to see your family."

Images flooded Bei Zui's mind.

Him, standing at the sect's peak, robes flowing, power crackling at his fingertips. The elders bowing their heads. Master Ren crushed beneath his heel.

For a split second, it felt… right.

Then, another image surfaced—one of his mother, his siblings, their small home in the mortal realm. His mother's gentle smile, the way she always called him her little dragon.

No.

The moment his heart wavered, the entity struck.

Dark tendrils lunged at him, aiming straight for his chest.

Bei Zui reacted on instinct, forcing every ounce of willpower to push back. His body convulsed, veins burning, but he refused to yield.

"Foolish boy."

The entity's voice turned sharp, cutting. The false warmth vanished, leaving behind only a presence of overwhelming malice.

"You think you can fight me? You are already mine."

The darkness surged forward, swallowing him whole.

Pain exploded through Bei Zui's skull. He was drowning. His limbs went numb, his breath stolen. His mind fractured, memories bleeding together.

But even as the entity tried to drag him down—he fought.

Bei Zui focused everything on one thing—himself.

"You are not me." His voice was hoarse, but steady. "And I am not yours."

The entity screeched as cracks formed in the darkness.

Bei Zui forced himself forward, step by step. Every inch took everything he had. His skin burned, his muscles tore, but he would not break.

"I am Bei Zui."

The entity howled as its form wavered, tendrils retracting, shrinking, weakening.

"Get out."

With a final roar of defiance, Bei Zui struck—his will slamming into the entity like a divine blade.

The void shattered.

Darkness collapsed, torn apart.

Bei Zui gasped as he was flung back into reality. His body hit the ground, his breathing harsh and uneven.

The spider lily lay beside him, untouched. The night wind whispered against his sweat-soaked skin.

And inside him, the entity was silent.