The morning of the wedding came cloaked in pale gold mist.
The forest surrounding the Ye residence was quiet — too quiet.
Yet beneath the calm, Mei'yin felt something restless stirring in the air — a whisper of eyes watching from the shadows.
She stood before the mirror, dressed in robes of deep ivory laced with silver threads. Her hair, tied with a single crimson ribbon, framed her face like frost on porcelain. Behind her, Dushen adjusted the clasp of his ceremonial cloak, his usual composure shadowed by unease.
"They're near," Mei'yin said suddenly, eyes narrowing toward the forest.
Dushen turned to her. "The barrier is still holding, isn't it?"
"For now," she replied quietly. "But the Bai men have been patrolling for days. I can feel their movement."
She walked toward the open balcony, her eyes tracing the edge of the mist-covered trees. The barrier shimmered faintly like a thin veil.
Then, she lifted her hand, dark energy curling around her fingers like smoke.
The ground trembled lightly beneath her feet.
"A barrier is not enough," Mei'yin murmured. "They want to test how far I'll go."
From beneath the roots of the forest, faint shadows began to rise — dead soldiers clad in dull armor, their hollow eyes glinting faintly under the morning light. The air grew cold as the line of undead formed silently among the trees, their presence unseen by most, yet bound by Mei'yin's will.
She lowered her hand slowly.
"Guard the forest. No one passes through without my command."
The soldiers bowed without a sound before melting back into the fog.
Dushen watched her in silence, his expression torn between concern and pride.
"Even on your wedding day," he said softly, "you choose to protect instead of rest."
Mei'yin turned to him, her voice calm but distant.
"There's no peace for those like us, Ye shen. Only choices — and the ones we make decide who survives."
He nodded, unable to argue.
Moments later, Ms. Ye entered, dressed in soft blue silk, her steps careful yet graceful.
"It's time," she whispered.
Outside, the bells of the Ye courtyard began to chime — slow, deep, and solemn.
The forest seemed to breathe with them, the mist curling gently around the guards Mei'yin had summoned.
And as Mei'yin stepped into the light of the ceremony, surrounded by beauty that masked unease. The vows spoken that day were not just for unity, but survival.
In Fengming Hall blazed with candlelight that reflected against the polished floors, where banners of every clan hung in quiet tension.
At the center sat Master Feng Yangguang, composed but visibly weary. To his right stood Feng Lingxi, her arms crossed, eyes sharp. The other Masters were seated in a wide circle: Master Bai Yue, Master Qin Jian, and Master Mo Xiang, each flanked by their heirs.
The silence broke when Bai Yue slammed his palm on the table.
"The Ye forest is crawling with corpses! My men reported that Mei'yin's dead army now guards the borders. You all saw what she did —how long before she turns that power against the rest of us?"
His words echoed through the hall, biting and cold.
Feng Lingxi rolled her eyes and muttered, her tone sharp with irritation.
"Then perhaps you should stop sending your men to her forest, Master Bai."
Everyone turned toward her. She didn't flinch.
"My sister is living a peaceful life in there. You're the ones provoking her—sending patrols, spreading fear. She's protecting her home, nothing more."
Bai Yue's glare hardened.
"Peaceful? That's what you call raising the dead? That's not peace, that's corruption! People need justice for what happened to Master Lei."
"Justice?" Lingxi shot back. "Or vengeance? Because from where I stand, it looks like you want someone to blame for your fear."
A few gasps rippled through the hall. Qin Jian quietly motioned for calm, but the fire was already lit.
Bai Yue rose to his feet, pointing toward Yangguang's seat.
"Feng Master, tell me—will you stand idle while your sister meddles with forbidden arts again? Or will you acknowledge that she's a danger to us all?"
Yangguang's jaw tensed, but his voice was calm, deep, and steady.
"Mei'yin chose a path none of us could walk. She used her strength to protect, not destroy. The day she raised those soldiers, it wasn't for war—it was to save lives."
The hall went still.
Even Bai Yue hesitated, though pride kept him standing.
Mo Xiang finally spoke, his tone thoughtful but wary.
"Still… that kind of power changes people. The line between savior and destroyer grows thin when death itself becomes an ally."
Lingxi's fists clenched at her sides.
"You all speak as if you know her," she said through gritted teeth. "But none of you saw what she endured. She protected those who once hunted her. If that isn't justice, then tell me—what is?"
The room fell silent again.
Only the sound of the banners brushing faintly against the walls filled the pause that followed.
Then, Master Jian spoke lower, colder.
"Justice isn't mercy, young Feng. Justice means balance. And one day, if she loses control, that balance will demand a price from all of us."
No one replied this time.
---
The courtyard was quiet now, the guests gone, leaving only Ms. Ye, Mei'yin, and Ye Dushen among the drifting smoke.
Ms. Ye stood before the altar, her hands folded, eyes soft but serious.
"There's still one thing left," she said quietly. "Before this union is complete… you must seek the blessing of your mother."
Her voice trembled just slightly — not from fear, but from reverence.
Mei'yin's gaze lowered to her hands. The red bracelet shimmered faintly around her wrist, the half jade dangling from it glinting like a heartbeat frozen in stone. Its twin rested on Dushen's wrist, the bond of their newly formed vow.
For a long moment, Mei'yin said nothing. The silence was heavy, filled with the whisper of leaves brushing against the paper doors.
Then she lifted her gaze — calm, but determined.
"Without her blessing, this wedding means nothing."
She turned toward Ms. Ye, her voice steady yet distant.
"I must go now. I don't want to waste my time."
Ms. Ye stepped forward, her expression shadowed by concern.
"It's dangerous to travel alone. The energy in the forest hasn't settled yet—"
But before she could finish, a sharp gust of wind stirred the garden. The faint cry of a bird echoed from above, clear and familiar.
From the canopy of the ancient trees, Xihe, the great spirit bird, descended in a swirl of silver feathers and dark mist. Its wings brushed the earth with a force that rippled through the air like thunder.
Mei'yin's eyes softened slightly as she looked up at her companion.
"It's time again, Xihe."
She turned briefly to Dushen, who stood by the altar, silent but watching her every move. Their eyes met — a quiet exchange of understanding neither dared to voice.
"Take care of them while I'm gone," Mei'yin said simply.
Then, with one last glance toward Ms. Ye, she stepped forward. Xihe bent its massive neck, allowing her to climb onto its back.
Mei'yin was already gone — riding into the sky.
The Fengming Hall shimmered with green and crimson as the clans gathered for council. From above, ancestral banners swayed gently, each embroidered with the names of Feng's bloodline — a living record of the family's honor.
Through the open doors came Mei'yin, her presence a calm disruption against the noise of the hall. The guards stepped aside as Xihe's shadow faded across the marble.
Every eye turned toward her.
Whispers began like falling rain.
"That's her…"
"The corpse mistress…"
"She dares return?"
Mei'yin ignored them all. Her gaze was fixed on the towering stone wall at the center — the Hall of Names.
Each name glowed faintly, alive with spiritual energy, representing those who bore the Feng bloodline.
But where her name should have been — beside Feng Yangguang — there was only blackened stone.
The character for Mei'yin was sealed in red wax and ashes, the mark of the dead.
Her breath caught, the world narrowing to a ringing silence. Her clan had already declared her gone — not in flesh, but in name.
For a moment, she wanted to turn away. The ache in her chest was quiet, suffocating.
Then she felt a gaze — sharp, familiar.
She turned and met the eyes of Yuxi, the man who once was her fiancé.
His composure didn't waver, but his eyes… there was shock there, and something deeper — something she couldn't name.
Their silent stare lasted longer than anyone dared to breathe.
Then, Feng Yangguang's voice cut through the hall.
"Mei'yin…"
He rose slowly, his tone careful, uncertain. His gaze drifted to her wrist — where a red string glimmered faintly, bound around her jade bracelet.
His eyes widened.
"You're married?"
The hall erupted.
Gasps echoed against the high ceiling. Even Mo Yuming, usually calm, looked startled.
But none reacted as sharply as Yuxi — his cold façade cracked for the briefest second, his jaw tightening.
Mei'yin met her father's gaze with quiet steadiness.
"Yes."
Her voice was soft, but it carried.
"I came for my mother's blessing… but seeing my name among the dead, I understand there's nothing left to bless."
Whispers rippled again — she's married, to whom?, how long?, is it true she lives among the corpses?
Feng Yangguang's hand clenched at his side.
Madam Yan's expression, however, remained unreadable. Only her eyes flickered — faint pain beneath a calm mask.
After a long silence, she spoke quietly:
"Everyone leave."
The hall froze.
"Now."
Her tone left no room for defiance. Masters and heirs alike bowed hastily and withdrew, murmuring as they went. Even Yuxi hesitated, casting one last lingering glance at Mei'yin before disappearing beyond the doors.
The hall felt empty after Feng Lingxi, Feng Xiao, and Feng Yangguang had stepped out to prepare gifts for the Mei'yin knowing that she's married, tradition of giving gifts. Mei'yin lingered, her chest tight with unease, the walls pressing closer than ever. The red string on her wrist seemed to pulse in sync with her heartbeat.
Madam Yan descended the steps slowly, her gaze heavy with unspoken things.
"You shouldn't have come here like this."
Mei'yin's lips trembled faintly — not from weakness, but from the effort of holding everything back.
"You said once that the Feng blood never abandons its own. Yet you buried me while I still breathed."
Madam Yan's eyes softened, but her words came low and restrained.
"You chose your path, Mei'yin. You walked away from the light that protected you."
"I walked away from lies," Mei'yin answered coldly. "I protected the ones our clan refused to see as people."
Silence stretched, deep and sharp.
Finally, Madam Yan's composure cracked — a faint quiver in her voice.
"You think I wanted this? That I didn't fight for you when they called you cursed? I sealed your name not to bury you, but to protect you from those who would destroy you for what you've become."
Mei'yin's breath hitched.
The candles flickered between them, their flames trembling like unspoken sorrow.
"Sometimes," Madam Yan whispered, "to keep something alive… you must let the world believe it's gone."
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then, Mei'yin lowered her gaze, her red string catching the light — a faint shimmer of defiance and love intertwined.
"Then I suppose I came here not for blessing… but for closure."
She turned toward the great doors, her silhouette fading against the dim light of the hall.
"Goodbye, Mother."
Madam Yan — her mother — froze, her eyes flickering with unnatural darkness. Then, like a candle snapping in the wind, her entire demeanor shifted.
"Mei'yin…"
The voice wasn't hers. It was hissing, layered with malice, a whisper curling through the hall like smoke.
Before Mei'yin could react, her mother lunged forward, dagger in hand, the movements unnatural and sharp.
Mei'yin staggered back, confused, heart pounding.
"Mother?!"
Her mother screamed — a sound torn between her own voice and the demon that held her.
"Kill me… if you wish to save yourself!"
Mei'yin froze, horror mingling with disbelief. Her hand met the cold steel of the knife as her mother pressed it against herself, not her.
Time slowed. Her mind screamed, but she couldn't bring herself to strike.
The dagger slid, drawing blood from Madam Yan's palm, not Mei'yin's. Her mother's eyes, filled with fleeting clarity, begged silently: don't do this…
Suddenly, the heavy silence shattered.
"Mei'yin!"
The hall seemed to shrink around them, the polished floors reflecting the tension as Feng Xiao lunged again, fury blazing in her eyes.
"You did this! You're the one who—!"
Mei'yin's hand shot up, intercepting Xiao's strike with a practiced motion, twisting her body to avoid the blade.
"I didn't do this!" Mei'yin shouted, voice echoing through the hall.
But Xiao didn't stop. Each attack came faster, fueled by panic, anger, and fear. Mei'yin dodged and blocked as best she could, spinning gracefully, her robes flaring with every move.
Feng Lingxi tried to intervene, but the urge to protect both sister and mother made her hesitate. She chose instead to avert her gaze, torn between loyalty and shock.
Feng Yangguang's steps faltered, his composure cracking as he watched the chaos unfold.
Then, the three arrows whistled through the hall. Mei'yin's heart skipped — she had no choice. She thrust her hands forward, using her body as a shield to stop the arrows from hitting Xiao.
The first arrow pierced her shoulder, tearing through her sleeve and cutting the flesh beneath. The second grazed her side, pain blooming sharply, and the third nicked her leg as she stumbled.
"Ahh!" Mei'yin hissed, biting back a cry. Her body burned from the impact, but her focus never wavered. Xiao froze mid-step, eyes wide, horror dawning as she realized the danger had been diverted — at Mei'yin's own cost.
Blood seeped through Mei'yin's clothing, staining her white sleeves crimson. She steadied herself, breathing heavily, every muscle taut, ready for Xiao's next strike.
Xiao's anger faltered, replaced by guilt and confusion. Her fists shook, the weight of what she almost did pressing down.
"You… you were protecting me?" Xiao whispered, disbelief cracking her voice.
Mei'yin's gaze softened, though her expression remained firm.
"I will not let you be hurt… even if it costs me everything."
Xihe's wings beat the air violently, the spirit bird descending in a protective arc, scattering the tension in the hall and forcing Xiao back. Mei'yin staggered slightly, gripping Xihe's feathers to steady herself, the hall spinning around her.
For a heartbeat, time froze. Xiao's eyes met Mei'yin's, and in that instant, anger, fear, and understanding collided. Mei'yin's wounds burned, but she remained unbowed, the resolve in her eyes as sharp as the blade she had just blocked.
Feng Yangguang's eyes blazed with fury, his hands trembling as he clenched into fists.
"Who released the arrows?!"
Bai Chengxing raised his hand with that familiar arrogance, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
Yangguang's patience snapped. He surged forward, grabbing Cheng by the collar and lifting him off the ground. His voice was low, deadly
"Are you defending a sinner? Your mother is dying because of her!"
Chengxing didn't flinch. His grin widened, arrogance and defiance painted on his face.
Meanwhile, the Feng siblings dashed toward their mother. Feng Xiao's eyes were wide, her hand trembling as she reached for Madam Yan, while Lingxi's face was pale, frozen with fear and indecision.
Suddenly, Bai Yujing lunged forward, fury in his eyes.
"Cheng! Are you insane? She's pregnant! If Mei'yin hadn't blocked those arrows—"
He slammed his fist into Chengxing's chest. The impact sent him stumbling back, his smirk faltering for a fraction of a second.
Chengxing staggered, but immediately straightened, brushing the dirt off his robes and chuckling lightly.
"She would have blocked it," he said with infuriating calm.
Xiao's eyes blazed, a mix of anger and fear. She stepped forward, her hand connecting sharply with his face.
"Enough!" she hissed, her slap ringing loudly through the hall. "You have no idea what you've done. If anything happened, I swear…"
Chengxing's arrogance wavered for a brief second under the force of Xiao's outrage, but his grin slowly returned, more dangerous than before.
Yangguang tightened his hold, his voice low and grinding.
"If you ever dare endanger this family again, I won't stop at strangling you — I will make sure you regret every breath."
The hall was alive with tension. Every heir, every master, every breath taken seemed heavy with the aftermath of the chaos.
Mei'yin, though injured and still recovering from the arrows, stood slightly back, her eyes calm but sharp, observing. Xihe hovered protectively above, the air vibrating faintly with its wings.
The siblings' anger, fear, and protective instincts collided in a chaotic storm — the hall itself seemed to tremble under the weight of their emotions.
Three days had passed since the chaos in Fengming Hall.
Mo Xiang, meticulous and solemn, had completed his investigation into Madam Yan's death.
"It's confirmed," Mo said softly, standing before the gathered Feng siblings. "Madam Yan was possessed by an evil spirit. She was forced to stab herself. No one else is at fault."
The words struck Feng Xiao like a physical blow. Her hands trembled, her chest tightening with grief. The sorrow for their mother was sharp, compounded by the realization of how many times she had lashed out at others in anger and misunderstanding.
Feng Lingxi stepped forward, her hand resting lightly on Xiao's shoulder, grounding her.
"Xiao… you need to rest. The baby — you must think of the child now," Lingxi said gently.
Xiao's eyes, still glistening with unshed tears, flicked toward her siblings, the weight of loss and regret pressing down on her. She sank into a chair, the exhaustion of grief evident in her posture.
Feng Yangguang stood nearby, his jaw tight, fists clenched at his sides. Even his composed demeanor couldn't mask the pain of losing their mother.
"We must honor her memory," he said quietly, voice steady but heavy. "And protect each other from now on. That is what she would have wanted."
The siblings nodded, the tension in the room loosening just slightly. Pain remained, but now tempered with understanding and the shared responsibility of carrying Madam Yan's legacy forward.
"Let's take this time to heal," Lingxi said softly, her gaze sweeping over her family. "One step at a time."
The silence that followed was heavy, but it carried a hint of fragile peace — the beginning of mourning, reflection, and, eventually, reconciliation.
The chamber was dim, lit only by flickering lanterns that cast long shadows across the stone walls. The air was heavy with unease, each Master seated rigidly around the table.
"Three days have passed since Madam Yan's death," Master Mo Xiang began, his voice calm but edged with concern. "And yet… the appearance of those evil spirits in Fengming is unprecedented."
Master Bai Yue's eyes narrowed, his fingers drumming against the polished wood.
"Spirits like those do not simply manifest," he said sharply. "They obey only Ye Xuan. But Ye Xuan is dead. How is this possible?"
Master Qin Jian leaned forward, voice measured but tense.
"It cannot be coincidence. Spirits of that magnitude do not stray without purpose. Someone—or something—must be manipulating them. Perhaps someone discovered a fragment of Ye Xuan's power."
Bai Yue slammed his hand onto the table.
"I told them! The Feng family is meddling with forces beyond their comprehension. Now the spirits have killed Madam Yan! Who knows what will come next?"
Mo Xiang held up a hand, silencing him.
"We cannot simply accuse without evidence. The question is not only 'who' but 'why now.' The timing… the death of Madam Yan coinciding with Fengming's internal turmoil… it cannot be ignored."
A quiet murmur spread through the room as the younger heirs shifted in their seats, uneasy.
"If spirits obey only Ye Xuan," Mo continued, "then something has awakened a fragment of his influence—or someone has found a way to channel it. Either scenario is dangerous. Extremely dangerous."
Bai Yue's voice dripped with suspicion.
"And do we know if anyone else has the ability to command such spirits? Who among the clans has knowledge of Ye Xuan's forbidden techniques?"
"Few, if any," Qin Jian replied. "Ye Xuan's path was secretive. His disciples were loyal and mostly dead. This… suggests a new player, or a revival of old secrets. We must tread carefully."
The room fell silent. The weight of the unknown pressed down on them all — the kind of fear that demanded vigilance, strategy, and alliances stronger than any before.
"One thing is certain," Mo Xiang said, finally, his gaze sweeping the room. "If these spirits are not stopped, Fengming — and perhaps all of our clans — will suffer. We must uncover the source, and we must prepare."
Bai Yue muttered under his breath, his pride and fear clashing.
"And if it is connected to Mei'yin?"
The mention of her name caused a quiet stir. No one could deny her influence, her power, and the unpredictability that came with it — though none yet knew the full truth of her actions.
"Then we must proceed with caution," Mo Xiang concluded. "Power like that is not wielded lightly. And we must ensure it does not spiral into destruction again."
The chamber fell into thoughtful silence, the Masters aware that the balance they fought to maintain was now more fragile than ever — and that the shadow of Ye Xuan, long thought dead, might yet reach across the realm.