The night air was thick with the scent of damp earth and pine. Moonlight spilled through the towering trees, casting silver streaks over the narrow mountain path. Wang Shi exhaled slowly, watching his breath mist in the cool air.
It was supposed to be a simple journey—traveling under the cover of darkness to reach the secluded Yunhe Monastery, where an old master awaited his arrival. But something felt off.
The rustling of leaves. The faintest shift in the wind. A presence, unseen yet suffocating.
His grip tightened on the hilt of his sword. Though he was still a beginner in cultivation, his instincts had been sharpened by years of palace life, where danger lurked behind every bow and smile.
A snap of a branch.
Too close.
Wang Shi moved. His body reacted before his mind could, twisting just as a cold blade sliced through the air where his throat had been. A masked figure emerged from the shadows, followed by another—and another.
Assassins.
His heart pounded, but he forced himself to remain calm. He was outnumbered, and his skills were nowhere near enough to face them head-on.
The first attacker lunged, sword gleaming under the moonlight. Wang Shi barely managed to parry, the impact jolting up his arm. Too slow. Too weak. He needed to escape.
A second blade came from his left. He turned—too late.
But before steel could meet flesh, a streak of silver flashed between them.
A gust of wind. A whisper of silk. And suddenly, the assassin's sword shattered mid-strike.
Wang Shi staggered back, his eyes widening as a figure landed gracefully before him—a woman, draped in flowing white robes, her long hair billowing like ink spilled on parchment.
Her sword, slender and gleaming, hummed with quiet power.
The assassins hesitated. They knew who she was.
Wang Shi swallowed hard, his pulse still racing. He had no idea who this woman was, but she had just saved his life.
And yet… why did it feel as if she had been waiting for him all along?
The forest fell into an eerie silence. The assassins, moments ago brimming with murderous intent, now hesitated at the sight of the woman before them.
Wang Shi's breathing was uneven, his fingers still wrapped tightly around his sword hilt. He could feel the weight of her presence—calm, unwavering, yet carrying an invisible force that made even the shadows shrink back.
The woman didn't speak. She merely lifted her sword, its silver edge catching the moonlight. The assassins exchanged quick glances. Then, in a blur of motion, they attacked.
She moved like flowing water.
A twist of her wrist, and one blade was sent flying. A single step, and she was behind another attacker before he could react—her sword cut through the air, swift and precise. He dropped without a sound.
Wang Shi could barely track her movements.
One assassin broke away, turning to flee, but before he could take three steps, a burst of spiritual energy lashed out. A thin arc of light followed the swing of her sword, and the man collapsed, motionless.
The last assassin trembled, his grip on his weapon unsteady. Then, with a desperate cry, he lunged at her.
She sidestepped effortlessly. A flick of her fingers, and a sharp pulse of energy sent him sprawling to the ground. His weapon clattered beside him. He did not rise.
Silence.
The fight had ended before Wang Shi could even lift his sword again.
He swallowed, his gaze shifting to the woman who now stood amid the fallen bodies, her expression unreadable. The moon cast a soft glow on her pale face, highlighting the quiet sharpness of her features.
Finally, she turned to him.
"You're injured," she said, her voice smooth yet distant.
Only then did Wang Shi realize the sting on his arm. A shallow cut, likely from the first strike he had barely dodged.
"It's nothing," he said quickly, straightening his posture. "You… Who are you?"
The woman studied him for a moment, her dark eyes holding something unreadable—something deeper than mere curiosity.
Then, instead of answering, she sheathed her sword. "You should not linger here. More will come."
Wang Shi frowned. "Wait—"
But she had already turned away, her white robes blending into the night.
He hesitated. Should he let her leave without answers? He didn't even know her name. And yet, something about her was unsettlingly familiar, as if he should have known her.
Before he could decide, she spoke again, her voice softer this time.
"This is not the first time we've met, Wang Shi."
His breath caught.
And then, just like the mist curling through the trees, she was gone.