The moon was high, pale and cold as polished bone.
Mo Lianyin stood at the southern gates of Yuehanyin City, his cloak pulled tight against the biting wind. The guards on duty didn't question him—his name was enough to open any door now. Still, he felt their eyes on his back, as if they already knew this was not an official mission.
The streets behind him were quiet, save for a few shuttered lanterns swaying in the dark. Somewhere inside those walls, Xue Qingxue was likely pacing, already suspecting he was gone.
He tightened his grip on his sword. She'll understand when it's done.
---
The journey to Qingshui was longer in the snow. Branches cracked under the weight of ice, and the path was a narrow ribbon between steep slopes. More than once, Lianyin caught movement in the treeline—shadows darting just far enough to stay out of reach.
The Fifth Forbidden Art whispered to him, steady as a heartbeat.
> They're watching. They're testing you. Let them come.
He didn't. Not yet. The village lights appeared over the next ridge, and he wanted them to think he was still only a man.
---
Qingshui had not changed much. The same low roofs, the same crooked shrine gate at the entrance. But tonight, the air smelled faintly of iron.
He stepped inside and found no one. Not the old herbalist who always kept her shop open late, not the children who played by the frozen well. Every door was shut. Every window covered.
Then, at the center of the square, he saw it—
A single figure standing beneath the shrine's broken arch, dressed in black armor traced with lines that glowed like embers. The Blood Envoy.
---
"Mo Lianyin," the Envoy said, his voice smooth, almost polite. "I was beginning to think you wouldn't come."
Lianyin's hand rested on his sword hilt. "If you touched anyone here—"
The Envoy raised a hand lazily. "Relax. They're alive. Hiding. I wanted privacy."
"Why?"
"To see for myself if the stories were true. That you've embraced something you shouldn't have." His gaze flicked over Lianyin like a blade. "The Fifth Forbidden Art… dangerous, even for someone like you."
---
Lianyin's jaw tightened. "And yet, you wear an artifact soaked in a thousand souls. Spare me the lecture."
The Envoy chuckled. "Fair. But here's the difference: I control mine. Can you say the same?"
The whisper in Lianyin's blood sharpened, curling around his thoughts.
> He doubts you. Show him he's wrong.
---
There was no more talking after that.
The first strike was Lianyin's—a blur of silver steel through the snow. The Envoy's gauntlet caught the blade, sparks snapping in the cold air. His counterblow was fast, but Lianyin twisted away, boots grinding ice to powder.
They moved like storms colliding, every clash shaking the frost from the rooftops. The ground cracked beneath their feet, and each breath steamed the air like smoke.
---
Midway through the fight, the Envoy's halberd caught Lianyin across the ribs, tearing his cloak and drawing a bright line of blood.
Pain flared—and the Fifth Forbidden Art surged.
> Now. Unleash me.
Lianyin's vision burned white. The snow beneath him melted in a sudden burst of heat, steam rising around his form. His next strike split the Envoy's armor at the chest, the force sending him staggering into the shrine wall.
The Envoy's grin was bloody but unshaken. "Yes… I see it now. You're almost ready."
---
"Ready for what?" Lianyin demanded.
The Envoy pushed himself upright. "For the one pulling my strings. For the one who wants you."
Before Lianyin could close the distance, the Envoy slammed a talisman into the ground. Red light flared, and in an instant, the man was gone—leaving only scorched earth where he had stood.
---
The village was still silent.
Somewhere in the dark, Lianyin thought he heard Qingxue's voice calling his name. But when he turned, the square was empty, save for the faint, whispering laughter of the Fifth Forbidden Art.
> You see? They're not coming to save you. Only I am.