Chapter 10: The River's Edge
Baifang's footsteps were heavy as he crossed the bridge that arched over the wide, flowing river. The sound of rushing water mingled with the distant whisper of the wind, creating a hollow, lonely symphony that matched the storm raging in his chest. His hand tightened around the bundle of his aunt's body, the weight of her death still pressing on his heart. She had been everything to him, his only family left, and now she was gone, taken by the cold hands of fate, or perhaps by someone much more sinister.
The small village lay ahead, a patch of dimly lit homes nestled at the edge of the river. It was a place Baifang had heard whispers of—Shanxian Village. The name carried an air of mystery and unease, and no one spoke of it with kindness. But the rumors were all he had, and he couldn't afford to be choosy.
He had been walking for hours, the weight of the journey settling into his bones. Despite his best efforts to remain composed, a faint tremor ran through his hands. His cultivation had progressed rapidly in recent days, far more than he could have imagined when he had first begun his journey. But it came with a price.
Baifang's Qi had been unstable since the death of his aunt. He had consumed so much Qi, absorbing it from every fight, every act of rage, and yet it left him hollow, hungry for more. His cultivation was at a crossroads—Qi Condensation—but there was a pull in him that was hard to resist. The energy he had siphoned from his enemies, from the grief and the fury he felt, was shifting inside him, making his core more volatile.
The higher realms of cultivation, the ones that truly meant something—Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, the realms that the great sects and immortals reached—were still a distant dream. But every time he absorbed Qi, it felt as though he were on the edge of something greater. And yet, deep down, Baifang feared that if he continued down this path, his humanity would slip through his fingers like sand. It wasn't a fear of failure, but of transformation. What would he become if he kept feeding this hunger? The rage that coursed through him wasn't just from his cultivation. It was from the dark force inside him, a force that no longer felt entirely his.
"Get a hold of yourself," Baifang muttered, shaking his head as if he could physically will the thoughts away. He could not afford to lose focus. His sister, Xiaomei, was out there. His path was clear: find her, no matter the cost.
The village was eerily silent as he stepped onto the soft earth. The houses were simple, their walls made of wood, their roofs steep and shingled. There were no lights in the windows save for the faint flicker of hearth fires, their glow barely reaching beyond the threshold of each dwelling. It was as if the village had chosen to fade into the landscape, as though it were content to be forgotten by the world.
Baifang walked with purpose, his boots crunching on the damp ground. He needed information, and the only way to get it was to confront the villagers, no matter how reluctant they might be to speak. He had no choice.
His gaze swept the village, scanning for any sign of life. No one was visible, and it was then that Baifang realized just how silent it truly was. It was a silence that pressed in on him, that made his heart beat just a little faster.
Without hesitation, he made his way toward the nearest building—a squat, sturdy structure with a faint smell of incense hanging in the air. He stepped up to the door and knocked, his fist striking the wood with deliberate force. There was a brief pause before the door opened, revealing a tall, broad-shouldered man with a weathered face. His eyes were sharp, betraying a cautious intelligence, but his posture was relaxed, almost bored.
"What do you want?" The man's voice was rough, tinged with suspicion, and his eyes flicked over Baifang's appearance, taking in his travel-worn clothes, the bundle in his arms, and the sharpness of his gaze.
"I'm looking for someone," Baifang said, his voice steady but urgent. "A girl. She was taken by the Zhao family. I'm looking for information about them."
The man studied him for a long moment, eyes flicking to the bundle in Baifang's arms before looking back at him. "The Zhao family?" The man's voice was quieter now, as if testing the words. "What makes you think you'll find anything here?"
"I'll find out one way or another," Baifang replied coldly. His hand tightened around the bundle, his eyes narrowing. His patience was fraying, but he refused to show it. "They came through here, didn't they?"
The man didn't speak immediately. Instead, his gaze shifted, as though weighing the situation in his mind. Baifang's Qi stirred, his senses sharpened, but he held himself back. His rage wanted to explode, wanted to consume everything in sight, but he fought it. This wasn't the time.
"They've passed through here," the man said finally. "You'd be a fool to follow them. There's a camp to the west, up in the cliffs. But you're better off forgetting you ever heard that."
Baifang's heart clenched, but he kept his face impassive. The cliffs, he thought. That was where they were. The Zhao family had a base there—hidden, well-guarded, and dangerous. But it was his only lead.
"I'm not going to forget," Baifang replied, stepping forward. His hand brushed the doorframe as if to seal his decision. "I need to find her. My sister."
The man gave him a long, searching look, but then nodded. "Then you'll need to be careful. The cliffs aren't kind to those who don't know them." His eyes narrowed slightly, as though something about Baifang's aura had caught his attention. "And you're not from around here, are you?"
Baifang hesitated. "I'm not," he said after a long pause. The man's suspicion was palpable, but it was the truth. He was an outsider now, not bound by the village's rules or allegiances. The only thing that mattered was his sister.
"Then you'll need help," the man said, stepping aside to let Baifang into the small, dimly lit house. "But I won't be the one to offer it. Not everyone is welcome on that path."
Before Baifang could respond, a voice cut through the silence. A woman's voice, soft but clear, spoke from the shadows.
"I'll offer him the help he needs."
Baifang turned sharply, his gaze falling on a slender woman who had stepped from the shadows. She was dressed in dark robes that seemed to absorb the light around her, her long hair braided tightly at the back of her head. Her eyes were dark, but there was a sharpness to them that reminded him of someone who had lived through hardship—someone who knew the weight of the world and had decided to fight against it.
"My name is Leina," she said, her voice calm, but there was an undeniable authority in it. "If you're looking for the Zhao family, you'll need to be more prepared than you are now. The cliffs are treacherous. It's not a place for someone with… your cultivation."
Baifang narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean by that?"
Leina's gaze flicked over him, pausing briefly at the aura that surrounded him—like a flickering flame on the verge of consuming itself. She didn't answer immediately but instead let her eyes linger on the edges of his cultivation. She had seen people like him before. People driven by rage, by the need for power, consumed by their own desire to rise above their limits. She knew that path all too well.
"You're at the Qi Condensation stage," she said finally, her voice low. "You've reached the threshold of the mortal realms, but it's unstable. You're teetering on the edge. If you push too far, too fast, the consequences won't just be physical—they'll destroy what little you have left inside."
Baifang didn't flinch, though something in his chest twisted at her words. "I'm not afraid of consequences," he said, though even he wasn't entirely certain of his own resolve.
Leina studied him for a moment longer, then nodded. "If you insist, then I'll take you to the cliffs. But remember this: the path you walk now is irreversible. There's no coming back from it."
Baifang's jaw tightened. There was no turning back, not anymore. The only thing that mattered was finding his sister.
"Lead the way," he said flatly.
And with that, Leina motioned for him to follow, her expression unreadable. Baifang turned to leave the house, the weight of the journey still pressing down on him, but his heart beat steadily in his chest. He had made his choice.
As they left the village behind and headed toward the cliffs, Baifang knew one thing for sure: no matter what he had to face, no matter what he had to sacrifice, he would find Xiaomei.
And then, he would make them all pay.