Chapter 2 - I

🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊

"HAVE SOME 🍊"

Near the fountain, a musician strummed a lute, his soft melodies contrasting with the lively shouts of the vendors. A small crowd gathered, swaying to the rhythm, their feet tapping as they enjoyed the brief escape from the bustling market.

Among them, an elderly couple shared a tender moment, laughing as they reminisced about the days of their youth.

"What a day!" A young man dressed in a long-sleeved black hanfu shouted, stretching both hands into the air as he yawned. 

Beside him stood a young woman, about an inch taller than he was, wearing the same black, long-sleeved hanfu. Her expression remained calm and unreadable. 

"Aiya, Senior, why the long face? Relax a bit! We've been guarding the west gate for four days straight—why not enjoy ourselves a little?"

This senior was none other than Li Wang Zhu, and the young man beside her, standing at 6'0", was Pu Lian. Both were disciples training under the same master, along with several others. 

"I agreed to your terms, so stop pestering me," Wang Zhu said irritably, scanning the bustling crowd. 

She had never liked crowded places. For reasons she couldn't quite explain, they always made her uneasy. 

"We've been here long enough. Let's go back." 

Pu Lian groaned in exasperation, his face twisting in displeasure. 

"Esh! As always, you have no sense of fun."

Wang Zhu shot him a fierce glare, and he immediately fell silent—though not without rolling his eyes subtly. 

As they continued walking, the noise of the market gradually faded, the surroundings growing quieter. It wasn't long before Pu Lian regained enough confidence to speak again. 

"Ahem! As you said, you agreed to my terms. You'll accompany me down the mountain, and in return, I won't tell my father—who, by the way, is our master—about your secret meeting with Wu Jan last week—"

Before he could finish, Wang Zhu suddenly raised her right arm in front of him, halting both his words and his steps. Her face was sharp with alertness. 

"What is it?" He asked, puzzled.

Wang Zhu's brows knitted as she glanced towards the left side of a secluded alley.

Pu Lian tilted his head to look at the location she was looking at, but a sudden, chilling gust swept over him, prickling his skin and making the hairs on his arms stand up. He swallowed nervously.

"In that alley... could it be?" He trailed off, his voice barely a whisper. The words caught in his throat, and he swallowed hard, his pulse quickening as fear prickled through him, stealing his breath.

He dared not finish the words, afraid that whatever was lurking there would hear him and rush toward them with no second.

Wang Zhu gripped the side of her sword and gazed intently into the shadowy alley, where sunlight failed to reach. Her expression was steely.

"Go to the inn we stopped by earlier and wait for me there. If I haven't returned by sunset, send up a flare and wait for the others to arrive before coming back for me."

Pu Lian, who had a low level of cultivation, immediately nodded and, without hesitation, obeyed, using a burst of martial strength to hurry off.

As someone who had yet to reach the core foundation of cultivation despite many years of hard work, staying there would only be a hindrance.

His age and Wang Zhu's were not that far apart, yet his gift for cultivation was slower and weaker than hers.

As a man, he felt insulted at being surpassed by a woman, but he had no choice but to accept it and try harder to achieve what he needed, no matter how long it took.

Although there were easier ways to achieve his desires, he preferred the proper, challenging path. For him, taking the easy path felt like cheating and offered no lasting fulfillment.

What truly mattered were the experiences and lessons gained through patience and the pursuit of true strength. What value did an achievement have if it was attained through cheating?

Just before he left, he noticed his senior's posture tense and ready for a fight. He recognized that stance; years of hunting demons with his father had taught him that what lurked in that dark alley was undoubtedly a demon.

Seeing that he was now at a safe distance, Wang Zhu strode steadily into the alley. The sickening stench of rotting fruit and decaying animals immediately permeated the air. She didn't flinch—her calm expression was a testament to her many years of experience. 

She stepped deeper inside and noticed an altar embedded in the stone wall, shrouded in a mist of red energy. A black, gourd-shaped water bottle stood at its center, wrapped in chains and sealed with a talisman. 

Wang Zhu moved closer, crouched down, and studied the talisman carefully. Her eyes narrowed as she realized it wasn't made of paper—but human skin. 

Her breath caught, and a chill ran down her spine. Yet, rather than fear, the discovery only deepened her intrigue. 

What kind of demon resided in such a place? And what had it sealed within this gourd? 

Her heartbeat quickened. She needed to know. 

Straightening, she closed her eyes and focused, blocking out unnecessary noise. She relaxed her muscles and directed her senses entirely toward the gourd. Immediately, a hoarse, desperate voice echoed in her mind—the voice of a boy, pleading for help. 

Wang Zhu's eyes snapped open. 

A boy. 

A surge of adrenaline flooded her veins, sharp and urgent. Her pulse pounded in her ears, and her instincts screamed for action. 

Without hesitation, she unsheathed her sword and swung with all her strength, desperation fueling her movements. Her blade sliced through the air, aimed directly at the altar. 

But to her utter disbelief, the stone structure remained unscathed. The gourd remained untouched, as though protected by an invisible force. 

Her chest tightened with frustration. 

Gritting her teeth, Wang Zhu approached the talisman again, irritation evident in her gaze. She examined it for several minutes, trying to recall its specific type. As she did, the boy's voice echoed in her mind once more—this time groaning in pain as he called out a name. 

The urgency in his voice sent another jolt of impatience through her. 

She struggled to place the talisman, but then, as if struck by sudden realization, her eyes widened. 

No wonder she hadn't recognized it immediately. 

The talisman wasn't meant to seal the gourd at all—it was a decoy, meant to mislead anyone trying to free the captive inside. 

Wang Zhu smirked. 

This demon was quite the mischievous trickster. 

The true barrier protecting the altar and the gourd was a primitive yet effective form of dark magic. To break it, the prisoner had to loudly announce their name while someone on the outside infused the altar with a small amount of blood imbued with spiritual energy. 

She knew this well. 

Many demons used such tricks to capture and devour humans who lacked the gift of cultivation. 

The only reason she had trouble recognizing it at first was the way it had been arranged—its structure and placement differed from the usual patterns.

A chuckle escaped her lips, but there was no joy in it. Only amusement, mixed with irritation. 

 After years of night-hunting missions, she had encountered and defeated countless demons—but never one this clever.

Wasting no more time, she straightened, closed her eyes, and channeled her voice into the gourd with a controlled pulse of her spiritual energy. 

"Your name. Tell me your name." 

Inside the gourd, the boy gasped upon hearing her voice. His fatigued face brightened with a flicker of hope. Summoning the last of his strength, he shouted: 

"Zui!" 

The moment she heard his name, Wang Zhu bit her right thumb and smeared her blood onto the altar. 

The stone trembled. The gourd shattered in a burst of golden light, dissolving into dust—along with the chains and talisman. 

A small green light emerged from the remnants and drifted a few steps away before solidifying into the form of an unconscious, malnourished boy. 

He looked no older than seven, with short, disheveled orange-brown hair and a tattered sackcloth hanging loosely off his frail frame. 

Wang Zhu stepped closer, her sharp gaze scanning him. Bruises and fresh cuts marred his neck, wrists, and palms. 

But something else caught her attention. 

Dark energy clung to his body—an unmistakable trait of demons. 

And yet… she hadn't sensed any trace of demonic energy within the gourd earlier. 

Could this boy truly be a demon? The lingering energy around him suggested as much. 

Wang Zhu's brows furrowed. 

A demon imprisoning another demon? 

What kind of evolution was this? 

As she contemplated, the young boy slowly opened his eyes. Instinctively, she took a step back, her expression unreadable. 

Zui blinked, his vision clearing. Then, as if some horrifying memory resurfaced, he scrambled to his feet, his face drained of color. 

"I'm still here," he whispered, his voice trembling. 

His wide eyes darted around in panic before landing on Wang Zhu, silently pleading for urgency. 

"So, it was you… the one who freed me," he said breathlessly. 

"Quick! We need to leave! The demon who captured me—he must have realized the seal is broken by now. He'll be here soon! If he finds us, we won't stand a chance. He's too powerful!" 

But Wang Zhu remained motionless. 

Zui's expression twisted in confusion. 

"Why aren't you moving?" 

She met his gaze, her voice eerily calm. 

"I must kill it." 

The young demon stared at her in disbelief. 

She hadn't understood him at all. 

He had just told her that the demon was far more powerful than them—what part of that did she not grasp? 

Is she truly a cultivator? How could she be so… slow? 

Frustration flared in his eyes. 

"My elder sister was right. You cultivators are absolute fools!" 

Before Wang Zhu could react, Zui's small body dissolved into an invisible whirlwind. 

The wind surged around her, lifting her off the ground with startling force. 

She had no time to resist. 

In a blink, the young demon swept her away from the alley—leaving her no choice but to follow his escape. 

To be continued.

Author's Note: At this point, even I got scolded. Sigh… cultivators, demons, and now my own characters turning against me.

Zui: "My elder sister was right. You cultivators are absolute fools!" 

Author: *blinks, then slowly turns to Wang Zhu with a hesitant chuckle*

"Ei… haha…"

*sweat forming at the back of their neck* 

Wang Zhu: *crosses her arms, unimpressed, and scoffs*

"Authors are hopeless!"

Author: *mouth opens to protest but quickly shuts* *inhales deeply, then exhales in surrender*

"Sure… My bad, my bad."

Zui: *muttering under his breath*

"At least they admit it." 

Wang Zhu: *smirks*

"Took them long enough." 

Author: *internally screaming but remains humble*

Author's Final Thought: Why did I even create these two?