Years began to blur, marked not by brutal assessments, but by the turning of the seasons.
They lived in their valley, a perfect, two-person world. Their cultivation inched forward with a
glacial, peaceful certainty. They reached the fifth stage, then the sixth. They were no longer
"average." They were, by the standards of the outside world, masters. But they had no one to be
masters over. There was only the work.
Ren Wei's "Head" found peace in study. He translated old manuals, practiced calligraphy, and
mapped the stars. Li Mei's "Hands" found peace in creation. Her garden was a lush, meticulous
paradise. Her "Silken Heart" art was now used to weave actual, beautiful silk, creating warm
blankets and new robes.
The "leash" that bound them was a constant, background comfort, a permanent hum of shared
presence. His darkness had accepted hers, and in their isolation, their "monstrous" natures had
simply... quieted. There was nothing to kill. Nothing to frame. No one to manipulate.
They were just Ren and Mei.
After five years in the valley, Li Mei became quiet. A different kind of quiet. A watchful, internal
stillness.
"Mei?" Ren Wei asked one morning, putting down his brush. "Are you alright? Is a ward-thread
broken?"
She turned from the window, her expression one he had never seen before. It was not adoration
or obsession. It was... terror. A deep, profound, and new terror.
"Ren Wei," she whispered, her hand going to her own stomach. "I... I think... the wards... need
to be... stronger."
Ren Wei's mind went blank. "Mei... are you...?"
"There's... another... heartbeat... inside me," she breathed, her eyes wide with a panic he hadn't
seen since the Jin Tao incident. "It's... it's small. And... weak. And... ours."
It was not a time of joy. It was a time of absolute, sheer panic.
A child.
A vulnerability. A new, precious, treasure... that the world could take.
Li Mei's yandere nature, which had been dormant, "gardening," exploded. She didn't sleep. For
months. She became a specter. Her "Hands" went into overdrive. The valley was no longer a
"home." It was a fortress.
She re-wove every ward. She didn't just make them to alert; she made them to kill. The
"peaceful" 'Silken Threads' were now laced with 'Ice-Vein' toxins. She planted 'Choking-Spore'
fungi along the riverbed. She turned her Toxin Compendium into a defensive manual.
She was terrifying. And pregnant.
Ren Wei, the "Head," was terrified for her. And for the child. He wasn't afraid of the world; he
was afraid of her.
"Mei," he said, holding her, trying to stop her from weaving a poisoned... baby blanket. "Mei.
Stop. It's... it's us. It's our... son. He's safe... here."
"He's not safe," she hissed, her eyes wild, her face pale and drawn. "He's soft. He's weak. The
world... smells... weakness. A beast... a person... will find us. They... they will try to take him."
This was a new psychosis. A pre-natal yandere crisis. He had to re-direct.
"You're right," he said, holding her face. "You're right. The world is dangerous. But... you can't
line his crib with needles. You have to make him strong. Like us."
That... that... broke through. Her obsession shifted. Not just fortification. Training.
Their son was born on the first day of spring. A small, healthy boy, with Ren Wei's thoughtful
eyes... and Li Mei's... perfectly still aura.
They named him Ren An. 'An' for peace.
Li Mei was paralyzed. She held him. She stared at him. This was it. The second thing in the world she loved. And she was terrified of her own 'Hands.'
"Ren Wei," she whispered, her voice shaking as she held the baby. "I... I love him so much I... I
want to hide him in the earth so nothing can see him. I want to lock him in a box."
Ren Wei sat down next to her. He put his arm around her. Around them both.
"I know," he said softly. "So... we won't lock him in a box. We will teach him to be the master of
the box. You will teach him how to make the key. And I... I will teach him why it's dangerous to
open the door."
Li Mei looked at him. At her "Head." Her anchor. She took a deep breath.
"A small family," she whispered.
"A small, dangerous family," he smiled.