Bai Qingxin

Bai Qingxin

When Kaien finally regained consciousness, a sharp sting surged down his throat—as if a river of fire had just coursed through it.

He was no longer lying on the blistering sands but on a cool, smooth stone surface.

For a fleeting second, he thought he was dead. But then the memory of the towering structure he'd glimpsed before blacking out flickered in his mind.

He blinked his eyes open, just slightly, and the first thing he saw was—a tree.

A tree? Inside a tower?

Kaien pushed himself up, groaning as his limbs responded sluggishly. But what met his eyes next rendered him speechless.

An endless stretch of green grass rippled before him, kissed by a soft, golden sunlight that blanketed the land.

"Woke up?" came a voice—serene, feminine.

He turned. Sitting nearby was a woman with flowing, moon-white hair and eyes as deep as the ocean. Her lilac robe swirled around her like mist, each layered fold brushing the ground, and at her waist hung a broken jade pendant—half of an inscription carved on it, as if waiting for the missing piece to complete its story.

Her voice rang like a distant bell in Kaien's ears, oddly familiar. Yet he couldn't quite place her.

"Who... who are you? And where am I?" Kaien asked hoarsely, his gaze sweeping across the impossibly beautiful scenery before settling on her once more. "And what am I doing here... I... I was with a Mirami—"

Before he could finish, the woman stood from where she'd been seated in the grass. Her white garments shifted and whispered with her movements.

"Yeah. I'm that Mirami."

"Wait! Aren't they supposed to be ugly? Dangerous? With blood dripping from their mouths and claws as long and filthy as nightmares?"

The words tumbled from Kaien's lips before he could stop himself—and immediately, he regretted it. The woman's smirk twisted dangerously, her deep blue eyes narrowing like a predator who'd just spotted prey.

"Thank. You. For. The. Compliment," she said, voice flat, each word a cold tap on his nerves. Her smile curled at the edges like it was trying not to become a snarl.

Well... now she looked dangerous.

"Anyway," Kaien began cautiously, brushing a hand over the dew-damp grass beside him, "I saw a tower before I lost consciousness. Is… is this really the inside of it? Or maybe it's just an illusion?"

The woman tilted her head, one brow arching. "What do you think? Does it look fake to you?"

Kaien's gaze swept the endless field, the sapphire sky above so open and clear it made his chest ache. He squinted into the distance, as if trying to spot the edge of the illusion.

"Um… I could run far enough," he said, eyes following to the end. "If I reach the end, I'll know for sure."

His eyes flickered across the landscape—miles and miles of grassland, the breeze gently stirring its blades, sunlight soaking everything in warmth. It was unlike anything he had ever known. A place untainted by rot or ruin.

He had grown up under a darkened sky, with an air so thick and heavy it could be sliced with a blade. This? This felt like the heaven he'd heard about in stories—untouched, eternal.

"Are you curious about this land?" the Mirami asked, her voice soft again.

"Yeah… it's beautiful," Kaien whispered, a fragile smile tugging at his lips. "If I didn't have so many things to take care of, I could have spent a lifetime here."

Then his expression faltered. His smile faded. His gaze dropped to the ground.

"I wish my mother could see this. Just once. It would've been good if we had all come here together…"

The Mirami's eyes lingered on him—not on his face, but on his left eye, the only one visible. His right was always hidden beneath a strip of cloth.

And in the eye she could see, pain bloomed like a wound.

Her voice broke the silence again—dry, emotionless. "forgive me to break your fantasy. But this place resets after thirty days."

Kaien's head snapped toward her, eyes wide. "Reset?"

"Yes," she replied. "Time runs differently here. Two minutes in the real world equals one full day in this realm."

She snapped her fingers.

In the space between them, an hourglass shimmered into existence—suspended in midair, its glass catching the soft sunlight. Only a sliver of sand remained at the top, trickling slowly down.

Both of them looked up at the hourglass. It hovered just above their heads, pulsing faintly like a heartbeat.

"What happens… when this world resets?" Kaien asked, voice trembling slightly—anxious, uncertain.

"It swallows everything," the Mirami said coldly. "And the day begins again. The time rewinds. Everything that happened… will happen again. The loop is endless."

Kaien frowned. "Then what about the people who stay here?"

He spoke the words as though he already feared the answer.

"They return too. Just like they were thirty days ago. Nothing changes. They don't age. They don't die. They can live the whole thirty days again. They are also allowed to make different choices this time"

Her lips curled into a bitter smirk, but her voice was flat.

"As if the gods cursed them with immortality."

Kaien's pupils dilated, wonder slowly dawning across his face.

"Then… doesn't that mean you could live here forever? With your loved ones? No death, no loss… just a perfect loop."

His voice trembled—not with fear, but with aching hope, as though some fragile dream had just been revived inside him.

But the silence that followed was deafening.

The woman didn't speak. Didn't blink. Her fingers ghosted over the broken jade pendant hanging from her waist, its fractured surface catching a glint of light.

Her expression remained unreadable, but something behind those deep blue eyes stirred. Something heavy. Something old.

Kaien's breath hitched. He could feel it—she was fighting an emotion so vast and buried it could drown the world.

"You wouldn't say that," she whispered at last, her voice like the edge of glass, "if you truly understood this tower."

Then, suddenly, the coldness returned to her tone.

"Anyway. You've asked too many questions which I wasn't obliged to answer but I did anyway."

Her hand lifted lazily, and with a single snap of her fingers, the hourglass vanished in a shimmer of light.

"I'm not particularly fond of talking," she said, now standing tall, the wind teasing the pale layers of her robe, "so let's get down to business."

The shift in her aura was instant—like a dam had broken. Dark energy spiraled around her, lifting her body into the air with a force that made the ground tremble beneath Kaien's feet.

"Didn't you want to make a pact?" she asked, her voice deepening, crackling like thunder wrapped in silk. "Then let's do it. My name is Bai Qingxin."

As she spoke, her fingers danced in the air, drawing invisible glyphs, each pulsing with malevolent energy.

Her eyes turned darker than night, swallowing the world's color.

"Tell me," she hissed, voice like a curse, "what do you want? What will you trade for this pact?"

Kaien stumbled back a step, instinctively.

"No!" he shouted, his voice cracking but clear. "Not yet. First tell me—what would you take in return?"

He squared his shoulders, grounding himself like a mountain.

"I will only make this deal if I know the price. And you cannot lie to me."

Her eyes narrowed at his boldness, but something about his refusal intrigued her.

"I want two things," she said calmly, as the storm of power around her steadied. "And in return, you may ask for two from me."

Kaien didn't speak. He listened. Every breath drawn was cautious, calculating.

"First," she said, "I want you to find something hidden in this place."

Her voice dropped an octave.

"And second—I want you to search for my name in the world outside this tower. Learn everything about me. Then… come back."

Her final words struck like a blade.

Come back?

The field, so quiet before, began to tremble. A storm rose not from the sky, but from the ground itself. Leaves fluttered wildly. The grass flattened under invisible pressure.

Her presence was suffocating now—her gaze sharp as a spear fixed straight into Kaien's soul.

And with it came a choice that suddenly felt far more dangerous than he could've imagined.

His chest tightened.

This wasn't just a pact. It was something else. Something ancient. Something cursed.

"Choose wisely," her voice echoed, now completely inhuman.