Chapter 16: Flames Beneath the Frozen Veil
Snow muffled everything—sound, sight, breath. Jin moved through it like a shadow barely clinging to its source, the wind biting even through his layered robes. Beside him, Mei's steps were quieter, lighter. Her cloak whipped behind her like the tail of a falcon.
They were climbing a narrow path along the northern ridge of the Cloudpiercer Mountains. The sect had sent them to investigate signs of forbidden cultivation—rogue harmonics leaking from the old veins of the ancient battlefield buried beneath the ice. But it wasn't the remnants of war that made the air feel dangerous.
It was the silence between them.
Ever since the battle at the Archive, since the kiss that had not been a kiss but something deeper, the space between them had throbbed with tension. Not anger. Not resentment. But a delicate, fraying thread of fear. Of want. Of unspoken truth.
And now, high in the mountains, where each step could be their last, Jin found that silence unbearable.
"Are you cold?" he asked finally.
Mei didn't look at him. "No."
He waited. Let the silence stretch again.
Then—"You're quiet."
"So are you."
He glanced sideways. Her eyes were focused forward, scanning the path. But her hands trembled slightly, even as they rested on the hilt of her blade.
"You're shaking."
"It's the elevation," she said.
He didn't believe her. And maybe she knew it, because a breath later, she said, softer, "This place reminds me of somewhere."
"Where?"
She hesitated. "The day my brother died. We were sent on a mission up north. The snow was just like this. Still. Cold. Beautiful. He laughed while we walked. Then an ambush tore his spine open."
Jin stopped. Mei didn't. She kept walking a few more paces before turning.
"I couldn't harmonize in time," she said. "I was too afraid. Too slow."
He stepped forward, reached out. She didn't flinch, but she didn't meet his eyes either.
"You've changed," he said. "I've seen you face things that would break people."
She laughed, low and bitter. "You've seen me lash out. You haven't seen me frozen."
"I've seen you trust me."
That got her attention. She looked up, surprised. Hurt. Hopeful. All at once.
"Mei—whatever's waiting up here, we face it together. You don't have to carry ghosts alone."
She opened her mouth, but before she could answer—
The wind howled.
Then it screamed.
Jin threw himself to the side as the ice beneath them erupted. A figure shot out of the ground like a javelin wrapped in shadows. Mei's blade cleared its sheath in one fluid arc, meeting the enemy's strike with a burst of sparks and steel.
Then more came.
Four figures, shrouded in bone-gray robes, faces wrapped, each wielding weapons that vibrated with distorted resonance. Not cultivators. Not normal ones. These were corrupted—a resonance twisted by grief and hatred into something sharp and hollow.
Mei didn't hesitate.
Jin didn't either.
Their harmonization surged between them, not practiced, not perfect—but urgent, alive. Mei struck high, Jin low, fire leaping from his guqin as he strummed notes of defiance and memory. The mountain lit up with light and heat and song.
But they were outnumbered. And worse—these weren't mindless. They coordinated. They anticipated.
One attacker circled behind Mei, faster than Jin could warn her.
But the blow never landed.
A figure dropped from above, silent as snowfall.
The new girl moved like ink across ice. Her blade flashed once—no song, no harmony, just precision. The attacker's head rolled into the snow, steam rising from the blood before it froze.
Jin stared.
She was young—maybe his age. Long dark hair tied back with a crimson ribbon. Her robes weren't sect colors. They were traveler's garb, layered for warmth, but bearing a strange symbol on the shoulder: a teardrop wrapped in flame.
She looked at Jin, then Mei. Her eyes were... curious.
"I was wondering when you'd notice," she said calmly. "You're not quiet fighters."
Mei narrowed her eyes. "Who are you?"
The girl tilted her head. "A friend. Or an observer. That depends on you."
Jin stepped forward, guqin still in hand. "You saved us."
"No. I just didn't want my bait eaten by someone else."
She kicked one of the fallen enemies. "These weren't just corrupted. They were hunters. And they were after you."
Mei's blade didn't lower. "Why?"
"Because the song you played in the shrine reached ears it shouldn't have," the girl said, nodding at Jin.
Jin felt a cold coil in his stomach.
"You felt it?" he asked.
She nodded. "You tore something open. Something deep."
Mei looked between them. "What are you?"
The girl smiled. "Not what. Who. My name is Lan Xue. I belong to no sect. But I've studied the deep harmonics longer than most cultivators have been alive."
"Then why help us?"
"Because I want to see what you'll become," she said, looking at Jin again. "And because... I hate being bored."
---
Later, after they had buried the bodies and made camp near the mouth of a sheltered cavern, Mei sat by the fire, staring into the flames. Jin sat beside her, not touching, but close enough to feel the warmth of her shoulder near his.
Lan Xue had vanished after explaining very little. But she'd promised they would meet again.
Jin wasn't sure whether to be grateful or afraid.
Mei broke the silence. "She was watching us."
"I know."
"Not just during the fight."
"I know."
Mei turned. "Does it bother you?"
He met her gaze. "I'm more worried about what she saw."
They held the look. Then she leaned slightly, just enough that their arms brushed.
"I wasn't afraid," she whispered. "Not this time."
He reached out, let his fingers graze hers. "Because I was there?"
She hesitated.
Then nodded.
He leaned closer. "You don't have to say it."
"I want to."
But before she could—she flinched.
A pulse of resonance rolled over them, subtle but massive. Not an attack. A message. Ancient. Faint. Buried.
From below.
Mei stood. "That's not natural."
Jin rose too. "The corrupted—did they come from underground?"
She nodded. "There's something beneath us."
They stepped away from the fire, toward the cavern mouth. The wind had quieted. Snow fell in soft flurries, brushing their cheeks like frozen feathers.
The heartbeat sounded again.
Slower. Louder.
Something deep beneath the mountain was waking.
And it knew Jin's name.