The thick canopy of trees stretched above Lin Yu, their branches swaying gently as the cold wind whipped through the forest. The night was eerily silent, save for the occasional rustle of leaves and the distant call of nocturnal creatures. Lin Yu, Elder Wu, and Zhao Feng moved swiftly through the underbrush, their steps careful and deliberate as they put as much distance between themselves and the temple as possible.
Lin Yu's mind raced as he replayed the events of the last few days—the destruction of the jade tablet, the revelation of the Hand of Xiangliu, and the growing power inside him. Every step he took seemed to bring him closer to the edge, closer to a future where Xiangliu's power would consume him entirely. He had resisted the serpent's influence so far, but for how long?
"Lin Yu, we must rest soon," Elder Wu's voice cut through the night air, his tone soft but firm. "You've been pushing yourself for days. Your body may endure, but your mind needs to recover."
Lin Yu nodded, though he wasn't sure how much rest he could afford. His mind never truly quieted, not with Xiangliu's whispers growing louder. The weight of the serpent's presence pressed against his thoughts, and every moment of silence felt like a battle against the voice in his head.
You can't resist forever, Xiangliu's voice hissed, coiling through Lin Yu's mind like a snake. We are one, you and I. The power is already yours—all you need to do is embrace it.
Lin Yu clenched his fists, his jaw tight as he pushed the voice aside once more. He wouldn't give in. Not now, not ever.
As they reached a small clearing, Zhao Feng crouched beside a cluster of rocks, scanning the perimeter. "This should be a good spot to rest for the night. We're far enough from the temple, and the trees offer decent cover."
Elder Wu nodded and sat down on a smooth boulder, resting his staff across his lap. "We'll make camp here. But only for a few hours. The Hand of Xiangliu won't wait long to act."
Lin Yu sat down across from Elder Wu, exhaustion tugging at the edges of his mind. His body ached from the relentless pace they had kept since leaving the temple, but he knew they couldn't afford to slow down. The cult would be moving swiftly, gathering their forces, and it wouldn't be long before they made another attempt to awaken Xiangliu's full power.
As the group settled into the clearing, Lin Yu's thoughts drifted to the cult itself. The Hand of Xiangliu had been hidden in the shadows for centuries, waiting for the right moment to strike. Their devotion to Xiangliu's resurrection went beyond greed for power—they saw the serpent as a god, a divine force that would reshape the world.
"What do we know about the Hand of Xiangliu?" Lin Yu asked, breaking the silence. His eyes flicked between Elder Wu and Zhao Feng. "How can we stop them if we don't know where they're hiding or what they're planning next?"
Elder Wu stroked his beard thoughtfully. "The Hand of Xiangliu is an old cult, older than most of the sects we know today. Their origins date back to the time when the great serpents roamed the earth, and they've always been fanatical in their belief that Xiangliu is the key to humanity's evolution. They seek to undo the balance of the world, to return to a time of chaos and rebirth."
"They believe the world must be destroyed before it can be rebuilt," Zhao Feng added quietly. "And they think Xiangliu is the one who will lead that destruction."
Lin Yu frowned. "Then why haven't they acted sooner? If they've had this belief for centuries, why wait until now?"
"The seals that were placed on Xiangliu's power by the immortals were strong," Elder Wu explained. "Stronger than the cult's ability to break them. But over the centuries, those seals have weakened. The Nine Cursed Rivers, the relics they've gathered—it's all part of their plan to slowly undo those seals. They've been waiting for a time when Xiangliu's influence would be strong enough to breach the seals on its own."
"And now that they know you carry Xiangliu's bloodline," Zhao Feng added, his voice heavy with implication, "they'll be even more determined to bring you into their fold. Or kill you if you refuse."
Lin Yu's heart pounded in his chest. The weight of his connection to Xiangliu had always felt like a curse, but now it was more than that—it was a threat to the world itself. The cult would stop at nothing to claim him, to use his bloodline as a key to unlock Xiangliu's full power.
"We have to stop them," Lin Yu said, his voice filled with determination. "But how? Where do we even begin to find them?"
Zhao Feng glanced at Elder Wu, then spoke cautiously. "There's a rumor… I don't know if it's true, but I've heard whispers of a gathering—a secret meeting of the cult's leaders. They're planning to convene soon, to finalize their next steps."
Elder Wu's eyes narrowed. "Where?"
"In the western mountains, near the border of the Southern Wastes," Zhao Feng replied. "It's said to be a place of great spiritual significance, a place where the lines between the living and the dead blur. If the rumors are true, the Hand of Xiangliu will be there."
Lin Yu's mind raced as he considered the implications. A gathering of the cult's leaders would be the perfect opportunity to strike—but it would also be incredibly dangerous. If they were to go, they would be walking directly into the heart of the cult's power.
"We can't let them meet," Lin Yu said, his tone resolute. "If they gather, it will only strengthen their plans. We have to stop them before they can move forward."
Elder Wu nodded, though his expression was grim. "It's a bold plan, Lin Yu. But we must tread carefully. The Hand of Xiangliu is not like the Black Lotus Sect. Their power is deeper, more insidious. We'll need more than just strength to defeat them."
Zhao Feng looked uneasy, but he nodded in agreement. "If we're going to confront them, we'll need to move quickly. The longer we wait, the more they'll prepare."
Lin Yu stood, his resolve hardening. "Then we leave at dawn. We'll track them down and stop this before it gets any worse."
As the group settled down to rest, Lin Yu found himself unable to sleep. The cold wind rustled through the trees, and the distant cries of animals echoed in the distance. But it wasn't the cold or the sounds that kept him awake—it was the whispers.
You're making a mistake, Xiangliu's voice hissed in his mind, soft but relentless. You think you can stop them? You think you can stop me? You're fighting against your own nature, Lin Yu. You were born for this. Let me guide you.
Lin Yu clenched his fists, fighting to keep the voice at bay. He wouldn't give in. He couldn't. The fate of the world depended on his ability to resist the serpent's call.
But as the night stretched on, and the whispers grew louder, Lin Yu couldn't shake the feeling that the storm was closing in. The Hand of Xiangliu, the growing power inside him, the mounting pressure of the battle ahead—it was all converging, faster than he could prepare for.
And soon, the line between himself and the serpent would blur.
Would he be strong enough to resist when that time came?
Or would Xiangliu finally claim him?