The deeper they walked, the more the forest seemed to lean in. Trees grew twisted and gnarled, roots like grasping hands rising through the earth. The air was damp with decay, and a chill settled under their robes despite the midday light above the canopy.
The path had long since turned into uneven ground where moss and leaves formed slippery patches. Each step crackled or squelched. A few disciples muttered under their breath, irritation creeping into their tones as their boots soaked through or thorns snagged their sleeves.
Zhou Min stumbled slightly over a root and grumbled, "This place feels cursed," he whispered, trying to shake mud off his leg. "Not even the birds are making noise."
Gu Muye didn't answer. He walked quietly, scanning the trees ahead. The shadows beneath the foliage shifted too slowly, too heavily, like they were weighed down by something unseen. His sense of unease had grown with each step, but it wasn't just the forest.
He felt watched.
The group ahead began to spread out into staggered lines. Some more confident disciples moved further up the path, while others lingered near the elders who walked at the rear. Everyone was alert, though no one said why. Their eyes flitted from shadow to shadow, and their hands stayed close to their weapons and talismans.
Then Gu Muye saw him.
The disciple was ahead and to the left, speaking softly to another. Tall, lean, forgettable features. Short dark hair. Thin frame. His face might've passed unnoticed by anyone else,
But not Gu Muye.
A sharp pain pierced his head. He stopped walking, hand brushing instinctively against the talisman tied at his waist. The forest blurred. A memory surged forward.
A cup in his hand. The bitter taste of something wrong. The room spinning. Limbs going numb. That face, calm and expressionless, watching him choke, watching the world fall sideways. No panic, no mercy.
Gu Muye blinked hard. The pain faded, but his body remained still. Sweat gathered at the back of his neck.
That face had been the last thing the original Gu Muye saw.
He looked down, adjusted the ring on his finger, and forced himself to keep walking. His jaw tightened.
The man turned slightly. Their eyes met.
Just for a second.
The disciple looked away.
He knows something,
Or he's checking if I do.
Gu Muye didn't speak. His thoughts stayed behind a wall. This wasn't the time to act. The man had poisoned the original body. Whether it had been ordered by someone else or out of personal motive didn't matter right now.
What mattered was that he still lived,
And the killer likely didn't know how, or why.
Zhou Min glanced sideways. "You okay?"
"I'm fine," Gu Muye replied. His voice was even.
The path widened into a clearing surrounded by collapsed pillars and moss-covered stones. Several disciples began to unpack, claiming space for rest. The stone surfaces were marked with faint, worn carvings, faces and symbols too degraded to read.
An elder in gray robes stood at the edge of the clearing. His voice was quiet but carried through the mist.
"This is your first rest site. Do not wander. Do not cultivate outside the boundary wards. Your corpses are to remain sealed."
He didn't wait for questions. The other elder, younger but just as distant, floated silently past the group, scanning them.
Zhou Min moved toward a dry corner near one of the larger rocks. "This'll do. Not too close to the tree line."
Gu Muye helped him unroll their bedding and check the talismans for dampness. The fog had thickened. Lanterns glowed dimly, their flickering light unable to chase back the gloom. A few disciples attempted small talk in low voices. One of them tried to light a fire, but the wood hissed and spat out wet smoke.
The killer sat across the clearing with two others, his expression unreadable. He leaned back slightly, casually polishing a blade with a strip of cloth. Nothing about his body language suggested tension, but that made it worse.
Zhou Min leaned over. "That guy over there. You know him?"
"No," Gu Muye lied.
Zhou Min nodded slowly. "He creeps me out."
Gu Muye said nothing. His mind was clear now, the memory no longer painful, just sharp. The man had killed him, or the original him. The reasons could wait. He wouldn't act on impulse. Doing so now would only tip his hand. If the killer found out Gu Muye remembered anything, he might strike again,
And this time, he might not miss.
Later. When it matters.
He sat with his back to a rock, letting his breathing steady. The scent of rot clung to the moss, and nearby, someone cursed about a leech found on their boot. Others were still checking their corpses, reinforcing the seals. A few sat in silence, their nerves frayed thin.
The day dimmed into gray evening. A heavy mist began to settle deeper into the crevices of the stones. Occasionally, strange birdcalls echoed far above the canopy, but none near enough to feel real.
The fire finally caught, though it burned low and smokeless. Shadows curled across the stone, and the forest seemed to press inward.
That feeling of being watched returned.
It wasn't the killer this time.
It came from the forest itself.
Gu Muye tried to ignore it, but the weight of it sat at the base of his neck. Zhou Min laid down with a grunt, folding his arms beneath his head.
"Still feel like someone's watching?" he muttered, eyes half-lidded.
Gu Muye gave a soft grunt of agreement. He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again.
He didn't trust sleep.
A few feet away, a corpse was tied to a thick tree trunk, slumped and unmoving. It had been prepared earlier by the elder for refining practice, dried skin, ribs exposed, a vacant stare. It hadn't twitched all day.
But Gu Muye didn't like the way its head was tilted now.
He turned his eyes away.
The forest whispered with night sounds.
A crackling. A shuffle.
He looked again.
A disciple near the edge was awake, pacing. He walked toward the tree-bound corpse, hesitated, then stood still in front of it.
The fire hissed. Mist moved.
The corpse jerked.
Only a twitch. A small, sudden shift.
Gu Muye's eyes narrowed.
The disciple stepped back.
The corpse's head shifted. Not far. But enough.
The boy shouted, stumbling.
Others woke in confusion. Zhou Min bolted upright.
"What happened?"
"The corpse—it moved!"
"It's sealed!"
Elders approached. One of them passed his hand over the talisman, muttering something under his breath.
"Residual Qi," he said. "No danger. Go back to your places."
"But it looked—"
"You are tired and undisciplined. Rest."
The boy nodded, eyes wide, retreating quickly.
Zhou Min whispered, "You saw it too, didn't you?"
Gu Muye nodded once.
"It wasn't refining reaction," he said.
Zhou Min's voice lowered. "You think something's wrong with it?"
Gu Muye didn't answer.
He kept his eyes on the corpse.
It hadn't turned toward the boy who approached it.
It had turned toward him.
He didn't sleep that night.
He stared into the shadows until they shifted into dawn.
They left the clearing without words. The elders said nothing about the night. The group walked faster now, more alert, less talkative. A few avoided looking at the trees.
The path curved near a sunken gully. Fungal growths covered the walls, bulbous and slick. Gu Muye saw movement beneath one, a pale worm-like thing that melted into the soil.
Zhou Min pointed. "You see that?"
"Let it be," Gu Muye said.
Further ahead, the disciple from before tripped and slid down part of the path. His robe tore. Something squished underfoot. He swore loudly.
Some laughed.
The tension lightened for a moment.
Gu Muye walked with them, silent.
The man who had killed the body's previous owner still walked nearby, calm and unaffected. He hadn't approached him. Hadn't even glanced again. But Gu Muye knew he was thinking the same thing.
Did he survive what I gave him?
Does he remember?
Later, Gu Muye told himself.
Not yet.
A/N: Thank you for reading. Please remember to leave your thoughts in the comment section so I can know if I should change anything, also I will be posting new chapters by 3 every day so make sure to check.