The wind whispered secrets through the darkened alley.
Deep within Ghost Alley, a faint, sickly-sweet scent clung to the damp air—like blood long since dried, seeping into the cracks between the stones, swallowed by the earth itself.
The old wooden houses on either side of the alley stood in decay, their doors barely hanging onto their hinges, while the runes scrawled on the walls had long faded, their protective power reduced to mere echoes of forgotten taboos.
Li Wenhao walked slowly, his fingers lightly tracing the hilt of his peachwood sword, his expression calm yet unreadable.
"That bell just now…" he murmured, voice barely above a whisper, "That wasn't a natural sound."
Jiang Wuyue twirled her oiled-paper umbrella lazily, her steps light, as if she were taking a leisurely stroll. She turned slightly, her dark lashes half-lowered, amusement dancing in her gaze.
"So, you're saying someone else is in this alley?"
"Not just someone."
Li Wenhao's gaze flicked to a collapsed rooftop ahead. Beyond the broken wooden beams, a patch of darkness shifted ever so slightly.
A shadow?
No.
Something was watching them.
The air in the alley was more than just thick with Yin energy.
Something deeper, something darker was leaking through.
"Wait."
Before they could move forward, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed from the entrance of the alley.
Someone was coming toward them, their breathing ragged and heavy.
Turning, they saw a stooped old man, dressed in a tattered brown coat, a black cane in his hand. His wrinkled face was pale and waxy, and his murky eyes flickered with unease.
The moment he saw them, he hesitated, something uncertain flashing through his gaze.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
His voice was hoarse, as if dried leaves were scraping against the pavement.
Li Wenhao studied the man carefully.
There was fear in his posture—not of them, but of something else.
Something lurking.
Jiang Wuyue tilted her head, flashing a lazy smile.
"Are we not supposed to be here?"
The old man glared at her, his lips trembling before he lowered his voice.
"Those who come in here… most never leave."
At the last word, his knuckles turned white around his cane, his posture shrinking inward, as if haunted by some distant, unspeakable memory.
Li Wenhao's gaze darkened.
"What happened here?"
The old man looked away, his hesitation stretching on, before he finally whispered—
"This place… used to be home to people who should never have been alive in the first place."
And then—
Without another word, he turned and hurried away, his steps uneven and urgent, as if afraid something was listening.
They stood in silence, watching his silhouette disappear into the fogged darkness.
Li Wenhao finally broke the quiet.
"Ghost Alley isn't just haunted by ghosts."
Jiang Wuyue exhaled softly, a low chuckle escaping her lips.
"If even the living are afraid of this place, that just makes it all the more interesting."
The darkness deepened.
The alley grew colder.
As they ventured further, the sound of water dripping off rooftops punctuated the silence.
Then—
Footsteps.
A slow, deliberate tread, damp and heavy against the stone.
At the far end of the alley, a figure emerged.
Dressed in flowing black robes, shoulders damp from the night air, his skin was pale—too pale—as if he had been buried underground for far too long.
His sunken eyes gleamed with a sickly, corpse-like hue, lips curving upward in a disturbing semblance of a smile.
"So."
He stepped forward, his movements too steady, too measured.
"You really did come."
Jiang Wuyue narrowed her eyes, lips curling slightly, amusement flickering in her gaze.
"Oh? Were you expecting us?"
The man ran his tongue over his lips, slow and deliberate.
"Expecting?"
He tilted his head, his expression twisting into something unreadable.
"No."
"I was waiting."
Then—
He raised his hand.
His sleeve slid back, revealing a deathly pale hand, the nails tinged an unnatural blue, as if long drained of warmth.
"Since you're here…"
His fingers twitched.
The smile widened.
"Why not stay?"
Crack. Crack. Crack.
A sound like bones grinding against stone echoed from deep within the alley.
Then—
From the shadows, figures began to rise.
Emaciated corpses, their brittle limbs cracking as they moved, their sunken eye sockets burning with green ghost-fire.
Flesh peeled away from their bones, revealing skeletal fingers that twitched and curled.
"Boom!"
A wooden door shattered, and a figure stumbled from within.
Its limbs bent at impossible angles, skin withered and dry, black runes wrapping around its throat, one bony hand stretching outward, grasping at the air.
The deathly silence of Ghost Alley had shattered.
Li Wenhao's eyes narrowed, his grip tightening.
"Here they come."
He flicked his wrist, and his peachwood sword unsheathed with a hiss—
A flash of golden lightning crackling along the blade's surface.
Jiang Wuyue merely smiled, slow and languid, but in her dark eyes, something dangerous and bright flickered.
"Finally…"
She exhaled, voice low and thrilled.
"Something interesting."
The night wind carried the scent of burnt joss paper, swirling it through the alley before swallowing it into the depths of darkness.
The air was deathly still, the temperature dropping sharply as an icy presence crept through the streets.
"Krrr… Crack…"
The sound of bones grinding together echoed from all directions, like the stirring of something ancient—something that had long been buried, but now sought to awaken.
Li Wenhao's gaze hardened, his peachwood sword rising ever so slightly, its blade pulsing with flickers of lightning, casting sharp shadows on the figures slowly rising from the ground.
All around them, the walls of Ghost Alley bore the remnants of ancient protective sigils, once meant to keep evil at bay. But now, they were shattering one by one, their remaining power dissipating into the night, leaving behind nothing but crumbling ashes.
And with them—
The dead opened their eyes.
Jiang Wuyue twirled her oiled-paper umbrella, tilting her head slightly as her gaze swept across the alley.
Among the rising corpses, one in particular caught her attention.
Its skin, weathered and cracked like parchment, barely clung to its skeletal frame. Each movement brought an unbearable creaking sound, like dried branches ready to snap.
But what set it apart—was its eyes.
Unlike ordinary puppet corpses, its eye sockets burned with deep crimson flames—not the usual hollow emptiness, but something distorted, something that carried emotion.
Jiang Wuyue's lashes flickered, her interest visibly piqued.
"Oh? That's new."
She raised a hand, a droplet of blood forming at her fingertip before falling to the ground.
Instead of being absorbed by the earth, the blood drop hovered, suspended in midair like a crimson pearl, spinning ever so slowly, sending ripples through the unnatural energy around them.
The corpse froze.
Its burning gaze locked onto Jiang Wuyue, its jaw creaking open—as if it had recognized something.
Then—
It kneeled.
And not just it.
Every corpse in the alley followed, their rotting forms dropping to one knee, heads bowed in silent submission.
Li Wenhao's pupils contracted sharply.
"What did you just do?"
Jiang Wuyue glanced at him, her lips curling into a slow, knowing smile.
"I wish I knew."
She hadn't cast any spells—her presence alone had commanded them.
Her very existence was enough to make these creatures of death kneel.
What did they see her as? A feast? A master? A god?
Then—
A low, sinister chuckle slithered through the air.
"Heh… Just as expected."
From the shadows, the black-robed man emerged, his expression sickly with amusement. His eyes gleamed with something unsettling, lingering on Jiang Wuyue for a moment too long.
"Your blood… It's just as they described."
Li Wenhao's grip tightened on his sword.
"They?"
The robed man didn't answer. Instead, he raised a single pale hand, a dark talisman glowing between his fingers.
"Since you've already noticed…"
He snapped his wrist, sending the sigil spinning into the ground.
A pulse of black energy erupted outward.
And then—
Everything collapsed.
The corpses that had just knelt in submission—twitched violently, their flames flaring, their jaws parting in shrieking agony.
Then—
They rose again.
But this time—
Their bodies jerked unnaturally, their limbs twisting in ways that defied life itself.
Their eyes no longer burned with worship, but with mindless, enslaved rage.
"They've been forced back under control."
Li Wenhao cursed under his breath.
"Fall back!"
With a swift motion, he threw a golden talisman into the air—
"SEAL!"
The sigil ignited, casting barriers of lightning in front of them, holding back the first wave of reanimated corpses.
The initial ones collapsed into ash, but dozens more charged forward, their hollow screams piercing the night.
Li Wenhao's blade flashed, cutting through the horde, sending crackling energy arcing through the air.
Jiang Wuyue, however—
Didn't move.
She simply stood there, watching.
Then, ever so softly, she let out a breath—
"This is getting interesting."
Her fingers brushed against her lips, crimson staining her pale skin.
Then—
She flicked the blood forward.
A scarlet sigil ignited in the air, spreading like ink in water.
For a split second—
The corpses trembled.
As if they recognized something greater—something primordial.
But—
The dark spell controlling them refused to let go.
And so—
They charged at her regardless.
Li Wenhao saw it happen, his instinct screaming a warning.
"You're taking this too lightly—"
Jiang Wuyue laughed.
And then—
With a snap of her fingers, her blood detonated.
A scarlet explosion rippled through the horde, their flames distorting, flickering—collapsing under an unseen force.
For the first time—
The black-robed man's expression changed.
"You—!"
Jiang Wuyue tilted her head, her dark eyes glowing faintly.
"What? Are you scared now?"
The robed man's gaze flickered, his fingers twitching slightly.
Then—
He stepped back, and with a single hand gesture, his body dissolved into the darkness.
"For now…"
His voice echoed—
"This is enough."
Then, he was gone.
Silence returned to Ghost Alley.
With their master gone, the corpses collapsed, turning into lifeless remnants, their bodies dissolving into the cursed soil.
Jiang Wuyue let out a mock sigh, lowering her umbrella.
"What a shame. He ran."
Li Wenhao sheathed his sword, casting her a sideways glance.
"You're reckless."
She turned toward him, smirking.
"And you're surprised?"
He exhaled sharply but said nothing.
Because the truth was—
She wasn't wrong.
This was only the beginning.
And Jiang Wuyue—
Was dangerous.
Not just to her enemies, but to everyone around her.
Including him.