The cold breeze of the night seeped through the small gaps in the windows, carrying a chill that made its way into the dimly lit cabin. Flickering candlelight and the warmth of a crackling fireplace with additional firewood were the only sources of illumination, casting dancing shadows on the wooden walls.
Mei Hua sat at the center of the cozy cabin facing the front door, perched elegantly on a wooden chair. In the front of her rested a neatly polished table with five purple cards that spread across its smooth surface. Each card depicted grotesque creatures, each bearing unique symbols that hinted at their meanings. Mei Hua, the woman handling these cards, exuded a particular allure. Even at fifty-five, her beauty was quite remarkable; her smooth, youthful skin showed bo sign of aging, or a single wrinkle, a testament to her timeless charm.
As if on cue, the front door creaked open, drawing Mei Hua's gaze as the cold wind outside almost put out the fire. Standing at the threshold was a man clad entirely in black leather, his entire concealing every aspect of his identity.
Mei Hua couldn't help but share a bit of her jolly attitude. "Ah, you've arrived just time," she said, her voice as calming and enchanting as her presence alone. She extended a graceful hand, motioning for him to take a seat opposite her. "Please, my dear, have a seat."
The man complied silently without uttering any word, stepping inside and shutting thr door behind him. He removed his black leather coat and hung it neatly on the rack before approaching the table. Without hesitation, he sat down, as the woman had kindly requested for him to do so.
Mei Hua's lips curved into a gentle, inviting smile, her expression radiating a sense of warmth and confidence. The man's attention was entirely captivated by her, his gaze lingering in her. But his eyes betrayed his focus, darting to her full chest.
Taking a notice at this improper act, Mei Hua reached out and placed her palm delicately over his, commanding his attention with a subtle yet firm gesture. Her gaze shifted back to the cards on the tavel as she selected one from the set. Slowly, she slid it toward him, placing it before him.
"I believe this is what you seek," she murmured, her voice soft and deliberate, her palm brushing lightly against his hand.
The card revealed the image of a bat-like creature pierced by a spear through its chest, exposing its grotesque heart. Below the illustration, the word Zaoshi was inscribed, translating to "Early Demise."
The man's reaction was subtle but undeniable. Though his expression was obscured, the tension in his posture and the brief hesitation betrayed his unease. Whatever thoughts the card evoked within him remained hidden, but it was clear that the image had struck a nerve.
Mei Hua noticed sudden uneasiness from the man but still chose not to say anything to the man. Her expression had changed this time, and the once happy Mei Hua who welcomed the man with open arms had vanished, leaving behind a dissapointed one. "Interesting, to say the least" she said, her eyes directly on the card before changing direction and facing the man.
"Would you like to hear a story" she asked. The man shared a nod, approving of whatever she was about to foretell.
The tale had reached a pivotal moment, the story of a reincarnated king and how he was revived. Rain poured heavily on the battlefield, washing away the blood that soaked the earth where countless warriors had fallen. The once vibrant land that was home to various critters now lay silent, save for the sound of raindrops striking armor and the faint groans of the dying.
Among the few survivors was Zhong Kui, crawling desperately through the mud, his body battered and broken beyond any healing medicine. Each movement he made was a struggle as he tried to distance himself from the approaching threat—the Emperor. This masked man, shrouded in an aura of authority and menace, held a spear poised to deliver a deadly blow. It was going to be a strike Zhong Kui knew he wasn't going to withstand, even with his formidable resilience and as the seasoned god of demons and ghosts.
But with the help of three ingredients forged together to create his weapon, there was no doubt that the Emperor was going to be victorious in his hunt against Zhong Kui. This included Gu poison, Jian and peach wood.
Exhausted and defeated, Zhong Kui ceased his futile escape. His trembling hands sank into the muddy ground as he rolled onto his back, resigning himself to his fate. The chilling sound of the Emperor's footsteps drew closer, each one a harbinger of death and destruction. Zhong Kui's long black hair fanned out in the wet mud, and the faint glow of his violet eyes dimmed, flickering like a dying lantern that was out of oil.
The Emperor stopped where Zhong Kui laid, towering over him with his spear aimed directly at the fallen warrior. "I believe every warrior is entitled to a final word," the Emperor declared, his muffled voice carrying a harsh and ragged tone that echoed through the mask he wore.
To the Emperor's surprise, Zhong Kui chuckled—a deep, rasping chuckle that echoed through the rain. It was not the sound of a broken man but of one who defied despair. Th laughter unsettled and angered the Emperor, who took a step closer, the grip on his spear getting tighter.
"Last words, you say" Zhong Kui repeated, his voice laced with defiance as a sly smile spread across his face. "What makes you think I need last words? I am no mere man, you wretched Emperor. I am a being of greater importance. I do not fall so easily."
The Emperor tilted his head slightly, as if considering Zhong Kui's bold calm, and this seem to strike a nerve. "These words will be remembered," he said, his tone unreadable. Without hesitation, he raised his spear and drove it into Zhong Kui's heart, the blade piercing with such deadly precision it was enough to end him in seconds.
The battlefield fell silent once more, the rain continuing to wash away the blood and mud as the story of the reincarnated king took its first fateful turn.
From the lifeless body of Zhong Kui, five radiant orbs emerged from his chest, each glowing with an ethereal light and marked with bat-like symbols. These were infact, the Five Bats of Fortune, artifacts that held immense power. The Emperor extended his hand, and the orbs gravitated toward him, settling in his grasp. A sinister smile crept across his concealed face.
"Finally," he muttered, his voice tinged with a sense of triumph. "At last, I have attained the true power of immortality. With these Five Bats, no dynasty in this world shall stand against me." His confidence swelled as he envisioned his inevitable reign over the planet.
He cast one final disrespectful glance at Zhong Kui's still body before turning away, ready to leave the battlefield. Yet, as he stepped beyond the fallen gid's range, a strange and unnerving sensation coursed through his entire body, sending shivers through him. It was as if a malevolent presence loomed behind him, yet he could not discern its source. The downpour of rain, relentless and cold, began to shift in temperature. It grew unnaturally warm, almost scalding like that of hot water cascading from the heavens above.
Alarmed, the Emperor hesitated, his instincts urging him to look back. Slowly, he turned his head, his eyes narrowing as he noticed an eerie, otherworldly light emanating from Zhong Kui's corpse. The glow intensified, pulsating with raw energy, an unmistakable sign of something far beyond his understanding.
Realizing the danger that approached, the Emperor spun on his heel, intending to flee. But his attempts were futile. In that very instant, the radiant light erupted into swirling beams, encircling him and binding him in place. The ethereal force immobilized him, and he let out a pained cry, "Ah!" His voice cracked as the luminous tendrils coiled tighter, constricting his movements entirely.
To his horror, the Five Bats of Fortune were pulled from his grasp, their symbols glowing fiercely with a more reddish color as they were torn from his reach. Thr swirling lights carried thr orbs away, casting them across the dimensions of the planet, scattering them far beyond his ability to retrieve.
Helpless and writhing in agony, the Emperor could do nothing but watch as the power he had so desperately sought slipped through his finger, and he was forced to watch it. The battlefield, once a silent penitentiary now bore witness to the unyielding wrath of a god unwilling to be usurped by a mere creature.
Ans so, the curtain fell on ancient era, giving way for new beginninga. The tale of Zhong Kui and his kingdom fades into the realm of myth. Though his legend was remembered by some, it was forgotten by many, with only the second day of the second lunisolar month serving as a festival to remember him by.
The years passed like fleeting gusts of wind, carrying away the remnants of a time ruled by mysticism. Humanity marched forward, driven by progress. Kingdom turned into nations, traditions gave way to modernity, and the divine gave way to mortal pursuits.
By the time the twenty-first century dawned, the world had obtained its transformation into something unrecognizable. Skyscrapers rose where temples once stood, and technology replaced rituals as the cornerstone of society. The gods of old were no longer revered;; they were replaced by systems of governance, economic strategies and political ideologies. In this new era, the only deities that held sway were the powers of politics, wealth, and influence. A beautiful world with dark secrets.
And that was how the new era which we all reside in was brought about. That is until Mr and Mrs Cheng, two old couples with a knack for exploring old ruins discovered something so marvelous, it would change the fate of the new era.
The chapter comes to an abrupt close, as Mr and Mrs Cheng come across an old cave hidden in the snowy depths of an ice mountain.