The morning light pierced through the thin fog enveloping Longyuan City. From the peak of the Guangming Academy's main tower, the stone bell chimed softly—marking the start of a new day for the disciples.
The training grounds were bustling. Disciples lined up neatly, some practicing luminous sword forms, others channeling spiritual energy under the guidance of instructors. The air felt warm, filled with the competitive spirit typical of young disciples pursuing glory.
However, amidst the hustle and bustle, Group 7 stood in an incomplete formation before Master Wei, a middle-aged man with silver hair and sharp, eagle-like eyes.
"Feng Zhiren, Zi Yueyan, Han Jie, Lu Qing..."
Master Wei's voice was heavy yet calm. "You are summoned for another external mission. There are reports that several merchant caravans heading towards the eastern border of Longyuan were attacked by strange creatures. Perhaps remnants of the Black Wolf group."
Han Jie looked around, then raised a hesitant hand.
"Master Wei... our group should be five, but... Lin Xuan hasn't returned since yesterday."
The training grounds suddenly fell silent. Only the sound of the wind passing through the trees in the courtyard.
Master Wei furrowed his brow.
"Not returned? Did he leave a permit?"
Han Jie shook his head quickly. "No, Master. I've searched for him everywhere—his house, the library, even the academy kitchen. There's no trace of him at all! I'm worried... perhaps he got lost outside the city or was eaten by a wild beast..."
All the academy disciples chuckled at that. The lazy one eaten by a wild animal?
Feng Zhiren, standing on the right side, merely closed his eyes for a moment. His voice was soft but firm.
"He's not an easy person to kill, Han Jie. But if he did leave without permission, that is a severe violation."
Master Wei looked at Zhiren for a moment. "Have you interacted with him lately?"
Feng Zhiren shook his head slowly. "Not much. Since the last mission in Heiyan, he has been more withdrawn."
Hearing the word "Heiyan," the air seemed to turn cold. Everyone present knew that mission was no ordinary one—and since that day, Feng Zhiren had briefly fallen ill due to the influence of the demon spirit seed slipped in by the mysterious black-robed figure.
But now, the aura on Zhiren's body seemed stable. A thin sacred light softly emanated from his skin—proof that he had successfully neutralized the demonic influence.
"Master Wei," Zi Yueyan spoke suddenly, her voice soft yet assertive. "If Lin Xuan did leave without permission, perhaps he has his own reasons. He is indeed... hard to predict."
Han Jie turned towards her. "You think he intentionally left the sect?"
Zi Yueyan lowered her gaze slightly. "I don't know. But he's not the type to fear punishment."
Master Wei sighed deeply, looking towards the Longyuan horizon shrouded in the morning mist.
"Lin Xuan is certainly different from the other disciples. But if he truly violated the rules and left without permission, then he is no longer part of Guangming..."
Han Jie spontaneously exclaimed, "Master, don't say that! Lin Xuan must have a reason! I'm sure he didn't mean to—"
"Enough, Han Jie."
Master Wei's tone was heavy, but not angry.
"For now, focus on your mission. I will handle the matter of Lin Xuan."
Feng Zhiren nodded respectfully, followed by Zi Yueyan and Lu Qing. But as they turned to leave, Zi Yueyan briefly looked up at the light blue sky above the academy, her eyes narrowed, as if seeing something far beyond.
("Where exactly did you go, Lin Xuan...?"), she thought.
A thin fog still hung over the dirt roads of Jin Ju Village, obscuring part of the view. Wooden houses stood tilted at the roadside, some with holes in the roof, others only surviving because they were propped up by old bamboo. The morning air here smelled of stale wine and old blood rust—the characteristic scent of a place long abandoned by law.
Bai Suyin walked half a step behind Lin Xuan, her eyes observing every corner of the village warily.
"This village... is different," she murmured softly. "I can smell blood, but not fresh blood. It's like... the residue of many deaths."
Lin Xuan did not answer immediately. He stared at a tilted wooden sign hanging in front of a large building at the end of the road—an old bar whose paint was peeling, but still busy with rough laughter and the clinking of glasses from inside.
"That's the place we're looking for," he said quietly. "The headquarters of the bandits who control Jin Ju."
Bai Suyin frowned. "Why are you looking for them?"
Lin Xuan stopped in front of the bar. His hand reached into his robe for something—a worn piece of paper he had taken from the bulletin board at the village entrance earlier.
The paper featured a picture of a large man with a scar on his cheek, below it was written:
Zhao Kuan - Jin Ju Bandit Leader
Wanted by South Longyuan City, Xiyang Kingdom. Alive: 500 taels. Dead: 300 taels.
"He's the one I'm looking for," Lin Xuan said flatly. "His head is worth enough for a month's supplies."
Bai Suyin raised an eyebrow, half-surprised.
"So... you truly returned to being a bounty hunter?"
A faint smile, almost like a shadow, appeared at the corner of Lin Xuan's lips. "Yes, that's right. To get rid of my boredom all this time."
He stepped towards the bar door, but Bai Suyin gently held him back. "What if they are dangerous?"
Lin Xuan glanced at her.
"If they are dangerous, we just need to make sure they don't have time to regret it."
As the two of them stepped inside, the room instantly went silent. Dozens of bandits stopped their laughter, staring at the two strangers from head to toe. The smoke of wine, the smell of sweat, and a crude spiritual air mixed in the atmosphere.
On the bar wall, several other wanted posters hung haphazardly, some torn, some stained with wine. Lin Xuan walked towards the wall, pulling out one of the newest papers—Zhao Kuan's face was plastered there in thick ink.
He twirled the paper in his hand, then looked at the bandits.
"Where is your leader?" he asked calmly. "I came to collect the price of this face."
A moment of silence, before loud laughter erupted throughout the room.
"Hear that! This kid came to catch Chief Zhao! Hahaha!"
"Does he think this is a vegetable market?!"
"Look at his appearance, like a city swordsman who got lost!"
Some of them slammed the tables, laughing at Lin Xuan and Bai Suyin, unaware they were laughing at their own demise.
Bai Suyin only stared, her yellow eyes flashing faintly. A strange coldness spread throughout the room.
One of the bandits approached, carrying a small knife, his voice drunk.
"Hey beauty, if you surrender now, maybe I can—"
The remark was cut short. In an instant, his eyes widened in terror. He flinched backward, dropping his knife.
From Bai Suyin's body, a shimmering white light began to seep out—her skin seemed covered in fine scales, and behind her back appeared the faint shadow of a giant white serpent with flashing golden eyes.
"Demon... serpent demon!"
"She... she's not human!"
"Run! Run!!"
The bar scene turned chaotic. Chairs were thrown, tables overturned, and the bandits scattered out the windows and back door, pushing each other to escape.
Bai Suyin stood silently in the middle of the room, her eyes still glowing golden yellow, while her demonic aura enveloped the place with a mystical and deadly presence.
Lin Xuan merely watched calmly, folding the wanted poster in his hand.
"Sometimes," he said lightly, "you don't need a sword to get rid of distractions."
Bai Suyin looked at him, her breathing slowly calming down. "You... intentionally let them see me?"
Lin Xuan turned, a faint smile on his face. "You are my servant. And you have to help me. Consider this... a warm-up."
He headed to the next room.
"Their leader hasn't run away. I can feel his aura."
Bai Suyin nodded slowly, following behind.
The sound of their footsteps echoed softly amidst the residual laughter that hadn't completely faded—
Inside the dilapidated bar on the roadside, the atmosphere had just returned to quiet after Bai Suyin revealed her true form—flashing yellow eyes and the cold aura of a white serpent enveloping the room. The bandits who had been laughing earlier now trembled in fear, some crawling out of the windows without time to grab their weapons.
Lin Xuan, casually leaning on a wooden chair, slowly twirled his teacup.
"So... where is your leader?" he asked lightly, but his tone made the air tense.
One of the trembling bandits pointed towards the back of the bar, to a large door leading to the basement.
"...T-there... but... but don't look for death, young master... Zhao Kuan is no ordinary person... he was once a royal army captain!"
Bai Suyin smiled coldly. "That kind of human is nothing more than rotten food for a serpent like me."
Without waiting, Lin Xuan walked towards the door. His steps were calm, but each step felt heavy—as if shaking the creaking wooden floor. Bai Suyin followed behind him, her white aura tail gently rustling like a mist.
As soon as the wooden door was opened, the smell of iron and blood stung. In the dim basement, a large man with a black dragon tattoo sat on a chair, holding a giant guandao. The scar on his face was like a lightning bolt's etch.
That was Zhao Kuan, the leader of the southern bandits.
He slowly raised his head, staring at the two uninvited guests.
"Hmph... so you two are the ones who made my men run like headless chickens?" his voice was heavy and rough. "The bounty for my head is big, huh? But too bad, you two will be the bounty."
Lin Xuan looked at him flatly. "In that case... let's see who deserves it."
Zhao Kuan growled and ran forward, his guandao hitting the floor until rock fragments scattered. Bai Suyin darted like a white flash, her body weaving in the air—shimmering white scale fragments glowed in the dim light.
Zhao Kuan's guandao was flung into the air as the white serpent energy tail wrapped around it, but Zhao Kuan pulled it back forcefully, showing incredible physical strength.
However, before Bai Suyin could continue her attack, Lin Xuan raised his hand.
"I'll handle this one."
Bai Suyin looked at him in surprise. "Are you sure? A human like him—"
But before she could finish her sentence, Zhao Kuan attacked again. Lin Xuan parried it with just one hand—with his own index finger, stopping the guandao blade right in front of him.
The sound of metal creaked, Zhao Kuan's eyes widened.
"You... who are you really?!"
A faint smile appeared on Lin Xuan's face. "Just a hunter looking for dinner money."
In an instant, a black spiritual pressure emanated from Lin Xuan's body, so heavy that the air trembled. Zhao Kuan tried to retreat, but his body couldn't move—a shadow like a demon's wing flashed behind Lin Xuan in a blink of an eye.
A light punch landed on Zhao Kuan's chest—and the giant body was flung, hitting the stone wall hard, collapsing unconscious without managing to utter another word.
Silence enveloped the room.
Bai Suyin looked at Lin Xuan from behind, her eyes narrowing slightly. She could sense something in that aura—a power that couldn't possibly belong to a mere human.
"Lin Xuan... that power just now..." she murmured softly.
But Lin Xuan just smiled flatly as he picked up the wanted poster from the table.
"It's over. Take the reward now, tomorrow morning we continue south."
The evening sky of South Longyuan was shrouded in golden dust as Lin Xuan and Bai Suyin stepped through the gates of the Yamen Office in Jin Ju Village.
The gray stone building stood grand but felt cold, guarded by several officers in dark blue uniforms.
Their gazes immediately fixed on the two newcomers—a man with a calm face in a dark red robe, and a beautiful woman with yellow eyes, her steps light as mist.
"Outsiders?" asked a guard with a wary tone.
Lin Xuan did not answer. He simply placed a bloody cloth roll on the desk. As the cloth was opened, the head of Zhao Kuan, the most wanted bandit leader in South Longyuan, rolled onto the table—his eyes still open, frozen in his final expression of terror.
"The fugitive from your announcement," Lin Xuan said flatly. "We came to collect the reward."
Silence enveloped the room. Several officers swallowed, one of them almost dropping his notepad.
The faint aura from Bai Suyin's body spread a coldness like white mist, making the guards unconsciously step back.
An old official rushed out—Supervisor Duan, the local Yamen head.
"Oh Heavens! It really is Zhao Kuan! I can't believe he was actually defeated!"
He stammered, then quickly wrote something on the payment board.
"A reward of three hundred gold taels and one official service letter from the Xiyang Royal Government. Please accept..."
Lin Xuan looked at the paper briefly, then shook his head.
"We don't need the letter."
He took the gold pouch on the table, then casually tossed it to Bai Suyin.
The yellow-eyed woman smiled faintly, her eyes sparkling under the lantern light.
"Not bad. At least enough to buy some good sake tonight."
Without further conversation, the two left the Yamen office. The guards could only bow in silence, as if their presence still lingered long in the air.
Night fell at the old Jade Bird Inn on the outskirts of the village.
A candle swayed gently on the wooden table, illuminating the two figures now sitting opposite each other—Lin Xuan and Bai Suyin.
A small plate of roasted meat and a jug of warm sake were between them.
Bai Suyin held up a piece of paper with a red royal stamp—the letter of honor that Lin Xuan had rejected earlier but which the Yamen official had still slipped into the reward pouch.
"You know," she said with a seductive smile, "other humans would die for a piece of paper like this. But you don't even want to touch it."
Lin Xuan poured sake into his cup, his voice flat but gentle.
"A letter of honor only matters to those who want to be known. I don't."
Bai Suyin leaned forward, her chin resting on the back of her hand.
"In that case... why bother helping this village?"
Lin Xuan looked at her, smiling vaguely.
"Perhaps... because you looked too happy eating those bandits alive."
Bai Suyin feigned anger, but her cheeks blushed slightly.
"Hmph, I was only scaring them a little!"
Lin Xuan raised an eyebrow. "A little?"
"Fine," she said with a smile, "maybe a bit much."
The two were silent for a moment, only the sound of sake being poured slowly.
Outside the window, the night wind carried the scent of wild flowers from southern Longyuan—and somehow, Bai Suyin felt the night was warm for the first time since becoming a demon.
The next day. Dawn revealed a pink sky on the eastern horizon. The morning fog still clung to the bamboo roofs as two figures walked away from Jin Ju Village—
"You want to continue to Hetian, right?"
Bai Suyin's voice was light, but her eyes were alertly watching the path ahead of them.
Lin Xuan nodded slowly. "I heard news from the Yamen officer last night. In the south here, residents of Hetian have been disappearing one by one in the last few days."
"Wild creatures?" Bai Suyin asked while stepping through the damp grass.
"No," Lin Xuan answered flatly. "According to reports, whenever someone goes missing, there is always the smell of rotten blood and fragments of protective talismans found near the victim's house. This means it's not an animal."
Bai Suyin smiled faintly, looking at the gray clouds covering the sun.
"In that case... it seems another demon is playing in this territory."
Lin Xuan did not reply, but from the way he stared straight ahead, Bai Suyin knew the man was preparing for something.
The journey to Hetian took half a day. When they arrived, the atmosphere of the village felt... strange.
No children ran in the streets, no vendors were vocal. Only the sound of wind chimes swaying gently in front of empty houses.
Bai Suyin looked around with a sense of wariness.
"This place... smells of blood."
Lin Xuan stopped in the middle of the main road. On the bulletin board near the village hall, several old wanted posters were still stuck, but one of them was new—fresh red ink, reading:
"Wanted Dead or Alive: Hong Wu, former killer monk.
Known to use forbidden blood arts.
Reward: 500 gold taels."
Bai Suyin leaned forward, reading the note with a smile.
"Hong Wu... a monk who kills humans to prolong his life. I once heard his name from the spirits I met in Beitian or south of Heitian village. Rumor has it, he steals blood from children to strengthen his body."
"In that case," Lin Xuan said softly, looking towards the old temple at the end of the village, "it seems we know where to start."
They walked towards the old Hetian temple, a place that had been abandoned for years. The walls were cracked, and the scent of iron and blood filled the air.
From inside, the faint sound of prayer was heard turning into low laughter.
Bai Suyin tilted her head, her lips curving slightly.
"It seems this person doesn't know who is coming for him."
Lin Xuan placed his hand on the hilt of the Yanlong sword. Thin black smoke began to emerge from its scabbard, creeping into the air like a living mist.
"If he really is Hong Wu... make sure this time there's no residual blood he can use again."
Suyin smiled, her eyes flashing golden yellow.
"With pleasure, my lord."
The two of them stepped into the dark temple—and the putrid smell of blood immediately assailed them.
Dozens of bodies hung upside down from the ceiling, their blood slowly dripping into a large bowl that emanated a red glow.
In the middle of the room, a bald man with fiery red eyes sat cross-legged on a stone altar, laughing softly.
Bai Suyin stepped forward. "So this is the guy?"
Lin Xuan (looking at the wanted poster in his hand) "Hong Wu. The price of his head... is enough for a comfortable month's living."
He folded the paper and tucked it into his robe. "You can take the first shot if you want."
Bai Suyin turned halfway, a vague smile adorning her lips. "Young Master truly knows how to entertain."
"Consider it practice," Lin Xuan replied, his voice barely a whisper, yet enough to make the air around him feel heavier.
Instantly, a coldness enveloped the air. A shimmering white mist emerged from Bai Suyin's body—soft as dew, yet containing spiritual poison. Light veins shaped like serpents appeared from the fog, circling around her.
Hong Wu raised his sword, staring with hatred.
"Demon! Don't think I'm afraid of a foul creature like you!"
With a resounding shout, he charged. His sword struck the white mist, but the slash only cut the air. In a flash, Bai Suyin's figure vanished—transforming into dozens of small white serpents made of energy that seeped in from all directions.
An energy explosion erupted!
The ground split, the temple building collapsed. But Hong Wu endured, his body covered in small scratch wounds like snake bites.
Meanwhile, Lin Xuan walked calmly amidst the ruins, as if the fierce duel in front of him was just ordinary viewing. He knelt beside the corpse of a villager, observing the strange wound marks.
"All the wounds are cleanly split... not an ordinary slash. Hmph, so he is indeed using heavy sword techniques from the Tianba sect."
He glanced briefly at Bai Suyin and whispered softly, "In that case... test him with your speed."
A long hiss echoed. Bai Suyin answered the call without words. She closed her eyes, her hands moving to form a mudra. In an instant, the mist solidified into a white vortex, and from within it launched thousands of glowing serpents—all plunging towards a single point.
Hong Wu's scream echoed, loud but brief. In a flash, the mist swallowed everything.
When the dust settled, only Bai Suyin remained standing calmly in the middle of the temple. Her yellow eyes flashed coldly, her white hair shimmering softly in the morning breeze.
Beneath her feet, Hong Wu's body lay lifeless—his face frozen in an expression of terror that had no time to fade.
Lin Xuan stopped beside her, staring at the bandit's body emotionlessly. "Clean up quickly. We don't need to leave any trace."
Bai Suyin bowed respectfully. "As you wish, Young Master."
"And," Lin Xuan added softly, "don't leave the smell of blood for too long. This village has suffered enough."
Bai Suyin smiled vaguely, then raised her hand. White mist reappeared, swallowing all traces of the battle until the ground looked clean—as if nothing had ever happened.
At the end of the quiet village road, the two figures walked away from Hetian, leaving behind only the wind and faint whispers among the trees.
Late afternoon approached. The sky of southern Longyuan was copper-colored, the sunlight reflecting off the dusty, old tiles of the border post.
In that place, bounty hunters and wanderers entered and exited, carrying wounds, weapons, or heavy hopes on their shoulders.
The wooden door of the post opened slowly. Lin Xuan stepped inside with a light but authoritative stride. Behind him, Bai Suyin bowed slightly, her face veiled by a white hood. The air inside the post immediately felt changed—as if it were quietly waiting for their breath.
Behind the desk, Lu Shan, an old man in a brown robe known for being stubborn yet honest, stared with a tired but sharp gaze.
"Name, proof of capture, and reason for coming,"
he mumbled flatly without fully turning his head.
Lin Xuan unrolled a cloth and placed it on the table. A red iron medal marked with the Red Stone Mountain and a bloody piece of cloth were spread out there.
"Hong Wu," he said quietly. "Brought in dead."
Lu Shan was silent. Two guards in the corner of the room swallowed. He took the fugitive record, matched the marks on the paper, then let out a long sigh.
"Correct," he said softly. "Five hundred gold taels for the head of that mad monk. I didn't expect a youth your age to be able to take him down."
His gaze shifted to Bai Suyin, who stood silently.
"And you... are not an ordinary human, are you?"
Bai Suyin stared back. Her eyes, yellow like the light of a serpent in the dark night, flashed for a split second. Lu Shan instinctively stepped back, cold sweat dripping down his temples.
Lin Xuan tapped the desk lightly.
"We are just passing through to hand over the result of the work, old man. No need to know more than that."
Lu Shan gave a strained laugh.
"Alright, this world is already crazy enough without me joining in."
He took a leather pouch from a chest and placed it on the table.
"Five hundred taels, complete. Take it."
Lin Xuan took the pouch without counting. He looked out the window for a moment before turning back.
"Any new news, old man? Maybe someone wanted?"
Lu Shan stared at him for a long time, then reached for a piece of paper from a pile.
The picture of a man in a gray robe, with sharp eyes and a scar on his cheek, was clearly visible there.
"His name is Mo Jian. A former officer of the Xiyang army. Now a fugitive for slaughtering Beitian village officials and stealing royal documents."
"Reward?" Lin Xuan asked concisely.
"Six hundred gold taels if alive. Three hundred if dead."
Bai Suyin smiled faintly behind Lin Xuan.
"Young Master, it seems our journey has just begun again."
Lin Xuan looked at the picture one more time, his eyes flashing subtly.
"Good," he said flatly. "This time... we'll bring him alive."
The two turned around. As the post door opened again, the twilight light hit Lin Xuan's face—calm yet dangerous, like the sky before a storm.
Behind him, Bai Suyin walked with light steps, the tail of her shadow like a white wave following the western wind current.
Night enveloped the road between Beitian Village and the border post. The light of lanterns from stalls and houses occasionally sliced through the fog, creating shaky silhouettes and shadows that appeared longer than they should. Lin Xuan walked in front, a heavy leather pouch hanging softly on his waist—the faint metallic sound of coins moving was like a small tribute to the night. Behind him, Bai Suyin walked silently, her white hood covering her shimmering hair, her yellow eyes penetrating the darkness with vigilance.
They didn't talk much. Unnecessary words would only burden the plan.
Mid-stride, Lin Xuan opened the scroll given by the Post Chief. The face of the man in the gray robe—Mo Jian—stared out from the black ink. His eyes were sharp, his jaw firm; the faint scar on his cheek gave the impression that the man was more than just a bandit: he had been trained, had held command, had wielded a sword that killed in the name of honor.
"Six hundred taels, alive," Bai Suyin murmured, her voice soft amid the sighing wind.
Lin Xuan nodded, without turning. "Alive, yes. We will force him."
They chose not to hurry. Capturing a man who once commanded troops meant facing more than just a sword: pride, cunning in defense, a network in small towns, and—most dangerously—the instinct to kill without hesitation. Capturing alive requires the art of neutralizing the opponent's attempt to kill before they can even utter the word "death." That requires a plan.
At the edge of a dim inn, they briefly settled. Lin Xuan opened a small map, marking the western route to a trading post that Mo Jian often passed through. "He will move west with two followers," Lin Xuan said. "Not a big convoy—he doesn't want attention. Too arrogant for that." He pointed to a spot on the map: a hazy road, a pine tree path jutting into the trail; that's where he often rested.
Bai Suyin closed her eyes for a moment, sensing. "His trail is still hot: the scent of sweat, residual weapon oil, and... hardened hatred. He is quick to anger, but also careful."
They set the pattern. Target: intercept in a position that forces Mo Jian off his horse, separates him from his followers, overwhelms him psychologically, and then subdues him before he can use lethal techniques. This method does not require the greatest strength—but rather precision, controlled intimidation, and—most importantly—preserving life.
"I will be the distraction," Bai Suyin said. "I can turn into mist, infiltrate his small camp, make noise, extinguish the fire. They come out to check. When they come out, I create a narrow path. You close in."
Lin Xuan looked at her for a moment, then smiled faintly—a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Don't kill. Remember, Mo Jian alive."
Their means were simple: a net made of ethereal fibers that Bai Suyin wove from her mist—not poison, but something that made the opponent's muscles heavy like wet cloth; and a small chain that Lin Xuan used not to decapitate, but to restrain joints. Lin Xuan himself restrained Yanlong's power: he knew how easily the sword could tear life if he was careless. That night he chose to hold back.
Two days later, amidst a light drizzle that made the ground smell bitter, they took position at the bend of pine trees where the small road narrowed. There were two natural barricades there: protruding roots and a fallen tree that partially blocked the road. A perfect spot—the opponent must slow down, demanding a sacrifice of balance, and easily separated from his horse.
In the distance, the shadows of two figures appeared. A man in a gray robe drove a small horse, accompanied by two followers walking slightly behind. Mo Jian himself looked strong; there was a different way he held the reins—not the way of an ordinary person. He checked around, alert.
Bai Suyin slipped from the morning mist. She didn't scream; she just circulated her breath so that the white mist thickened on the side path. The first follower turned, squinting because of the unnatural misty view. He stepped forward with a sword, arm tense—Mo Jian shouted a command, but his voice was lost to the sigh of the mist.
A follower kicked, dragging a knife—but his stiffness slowed. Bai Suyin had swept a wisp of mist that made their muscles feel heavy; as if the ground stuck to their skin. They hesitated, backed away; the horses whinnied, anxious.
That's what Lin Xuan wanted.
When the first follower lost tempo, Lin Xuan stepped out from the tree shadow. He moved like a shadow—noiseless, his lines of movement short and certain. He closed the distance with one jump; his chain wrapped around the follower's wrist, pulling him to the ground. The attack was not to cut, but to lock the joints.
Mo Jian roared in anger—he kicked his trumpet, commanding the remaining follower to attack. He advanced, his sword flashing cold. Lin Xuan realized: this was the most vulnerable moment. If Mo Jian turned and cut, many things could end badly.
He chose control again, not explosion. Yanlong remained in its scabbard; he released a subtle aura sweep that vibrated the air—not to kill, but to neutralize the enemy's balance. The sensation was like being pulled backward; Mo Jian stumbled.
While Mo Jian was distracted, Bai Suyin was already beside him—not attacking to kill, but closing his breath with a circle of thick mist around his neck. The effect was not deadly poison, but a spiritual sedative: it made the head feel heavy, the mind entangled in memories, the instinct to fight diminished. Mo Jian staggered, his eyes glazed over. He hit the tree trunk, his body sliding down like a puppet.
Lin Xuan executed one sharp and quick movement: a small chain wrapped around Mo Jian's waist, pulled tight so the horse was pulled back, completely removing his balance. In one more movement, both of Lin Xuan's hands held Mo Jian's wrists—not pressing arteries, but locking position. Bai Suyin's left hand rested on his nape, white mist flowing, calming yet temporarily subduing the soul.
Mo Jian stared at them, his eyes still burning with fire, but his body began to soften. For a moment, a bitter flash slipped across his face—the realization of being captured alive, the shame of an officer being thwarted by two foreign shadows.
"Don't kill," Bai Suyin said emotionlessly, her voice like a whisper of wind. She gently lifted Mo Jian's head, staring straight into his misty eyes. "You will live, but you will no longer be the man who viewed others' lives as fuel."
Mo Jian gritted his teeth. He struggled, but the chain and the mist suppressed the energy. His heart churned: fighting meant death, surrender meant capture, escaping meant an endless chase. The options piled up into a lump in his throat.
Lin Xuan lowered his weight and secured the final lock on Mo Jian's wrists—not creating a wound, just restraining movement.
Mo Jian finally surrendered with a small push: he closed his eyes and sighed. In stiff relief, he no longer resisted when Bai Suyin loosened the mist holding him. His body swayed, but he was still breathing—alive.
When they tied Mo Jian with a secure rope, Lin Xuan turned to look at the morning scene: the thinning fog, wet leaves glistening, two followers still tied up and whimpering, the horse nuzzling affectionately. There was a sense of tidiness in the work: capturing alive was not just conquering the sword, but subduing pride, taming revenge, bearing the burden of decision.
Bai Suyin wiped a bit of mist from her lips, then smiled faintly at Lin Xuan. "Young Master, we succeeded."
Lin Xuan only stared ahead, where Mo Jian's eyes now reflected a gray light—no longer the fire of an officer, but a man who knew he had lost and had to choose a different kind of life.
They led Mo Jian back towards the border post; the next task awaited: exchanging life for gold.
The midday sun slowly slipped towards dusk when the three figures re-entered the border post courtyard. The dusty path, the tracks of horses and feet, were still damp from the slowly disappearing morning mist. In the middle, Mo Jian walked with his hands tied, his steps heavy and his eyes, once full of fire, now dimmed by resignation.
In the office room, Lu Shan was tidying up record scrolls when the sound of footsteps knocked on the door. He turned, and his eyes widened when he saw the fugitive brought in alive. Two guards in the corner of the room also stiffly stepped forward, checking the ropes and the escort.
Lin Xuan placed a leather pouch containing evidence on the table; Bai Suyin stood behind, her hood slightly raised so her pair of yellow eyes looked calm yet vigilant. Mo Jian was led forward, still clenching his jaw.
Lu Shan almost choked when he read the documents Lin Xuan presented; he checked the marks and seals, then looked at the backs of the two people with respect that was not entirely hidden. "You actually brought him... alive?" he mumbled, his voice no more than a whisper.
"We captured him alive," Lin Xuan replied. His tone was flat, but every word felt like a decision that had been long considered. "Exchange according to the terms."
Lu Shan calculated for a moment, then moved his old hand; slowly he wrote, recorded, stamped the official seal. He took a thick pouch from the chest—an amount enough to fill several nights of comfort in the city. "Six hundred taels," he said, his voice filled with admiration and a little fear. "You really did a heavy job. Good work."
Mo Jian sat on the bamboo chair provided, his face bowed. In his eyes was the shame of an officer who had lost his name: not only because he was caught, but because his defeat was inflicted by two foreign shadows, not by the army he once led.
Bai Suyin stepped forward slightly, looking at Mo Jian for a few seconds. There was no word of pardon or mockery on her face—only a cold peace that made the room feel silent.
Lu Shan handed the gold pouch to Lin Xuan. "Take this. And—" he hesitated for a moment, "if you need official records of your reputation or protection during the journey to Longyuan, I can arrange the papers. The government will value your testimony."
Lin Xuan shook his head subtly. He did not reject the money, but the letter of honor still had no place in his life. He accepted the pouch, feeling the weight of the metal—the currency of a world that could never buy peace.
"Thank you," he said concisely. "We are not interested in official records of the capture or anything like that." He looked at Lu Shan for a moment, then added, "You keep the records yourself."
Lu Shan nodded quickly, cold sweat gleaming on his forehead. "Good! Good! I will keep them."
Outside, the evening wind blew dry leaves. Lin Xuan stood at the doorway, looking up for a moment. In his mind's eye were shadows: faces he had met in Tianmen, flashes of swords, the rumble of the night when thousands tried to tear down a fortress. The memories came uninvited, but he pushed them away like passing clouds.
He turned to Bai Suyin. "I need to go back to Longyuan," he said calmly. "I can't be away from Guangming Academy for too long. Too many people are asking questions—especially those who can cause trouble if I am absent for too long."
Bai Suyin nodded, her lips curving vaguely. "Do you want me to come?"
Lin Xuan shook his head slowly. "Not now. You rest. Return to your lair—I will call you when the next slaughter is needed. We will share the rewards we have earned so far. Use the money to buy food in the market. Don't eat people again. Be like a human." His tone was cold, yet behind it was a given appreciation.
Suyin looked at him for a few moments, then bowed deeply in respect—a gentle movement from a demon who knew her place in the human world. "Very well, thank you Lin Xuan. Until the next call."
They parted at the village gate—Lin Xuan turned to follow the road leading north, towards Longyuan, while Bai Suyin disappeared back into the outskirts of the forest, towards her hidden lair in Beitian village. Their paths were different, their goal the same: to live a little safer today, tomorrow was uncertain.
On the way home, Lin Xuan walked along the quiet road. His mind was spinning with thoughts about his fate at the academy.
Longyuan awaited—with the academy towers and the bustling Guangming courtyard full of young people. He knew that his return to the Academy meant two things: hiding his tracks more carefully and facing glances that would not be easily deceived. He had been missing without a trace for almost a week; now, the time to return and stand before those who thought he was merely a lazy disciple had arrived.
That afternoon, the shadows thinned. Beneath the long Longyuan sky, Lin Xuan walked quickly—returning to a routine that felt like another mask, while carrying a leather pouch filled with gold taels and the distance he had just traveled between the past and the choices he had made.
But on his lips, he smiled widely, looking at the large amount of gold taels. "I'm finally rich, hehe.... at least for the next month."
At the end of the road, the Longyuan towers waited. The next chapter would begin when he stepped through the gates—and at that moment, some secrets that were now hidden might begin to show cracks.