[Yao South Hidden Manor · Quiet Chamber]
Lamplight trembled. The soft rustle of turning pages sounded unusually clear in the still night.
Youqing bent over the desk, reading with fierce focus. Every brittle page of the ancient texts recorded the lost arts of Black Yao.
Her gaze fixed on two characters, "Soul-Transference".
Yet the longer she stared, the more confusion tightened around her thoughts.
Why did the sigils in the formula lean so heavily on the words "guide" and "return"?
If this was truly a body-snatching technique, why were its phrases so… gentle?
She flipped through a fragmented scroll and froze.
A small note had been added along the worn edge:
"When the soul is startled and scatters, use Black Yao as the guide, gather it, and bring it home."
Youqing's breath quivered.
Memories from her former world rose like folk smoke in the mind:
A child frightened too badly might "lose their soul."
A person struck by disaster might seem "spiritless."
And in those moments, someone would call a shaman to "call the soul back," to settle what had scattered.
Understanding hit her like a bell struck in the chest.
The Soul-Transference art had originally been a returning.
Not possession, but restoration. A way to help someone find the soul that fear had shaken loose.
But Ye Yi had twisted it.
He had turned "welcoming back" into "driving out," warped "guiding the soul home" into "forcing the soul aside."
A method meant to save lives had been hammered, coldly, into a method of theft.
Youqing closed the book. Her fingers trembled, and a thin edge of frost slid into her eyes.
"…So that's what it is."
In her heart, resolve rose like a blade drawn clean.
If she could reverse the altered sigils…
perhaps the stolen could still return to their rightful body.
Under the lamplight, her gaze sharpened, colder and clearer by the breath.
The hour grew late. The oil flame thinned, fluttering as if it might collapse into darkness at any moment.
Youqing hunched over the desk, the paper before her covered in feverish calculations, arrays upon arrays: some pulling inward in tight spirals, some spreading outward in layered dispersal. Ink overlapped ink until it looked nearly wild.
Her eyes stayed on two words, "cross" and "return." Her brow knitted.
"If I cast a direct returning… Ling Shuo's soul won't come back cleanly. It will collide with Ye Yi's within one body. Two souls fighting for one vessel…"
Her whisper trailed off. Her fingertip dragged across the tabletop, then stopped dead.
A small pop sounded as the wick sparked.
On the paper, the character she'd written again and again, "expel," glared blackly in the shaking light.
Youqing's heart jolted.
"…Right."
She straightened abruptly, her eyes flaring bright as flame.
To return, you must first cross.
Ye Yi's perversion of the art had opened a soul-road.
If a soul could be driven out, then it could also be drawn.
If she used a reversed array to pull Ye Yi's soul out of the body, Ling Shuo's soul would finally have room to reclaim its place.
"Guide… then return."
Her whisper was steady, but her grip was not.
The brush snapped with a sharp crack. Ink splattered, staining half the page in a dark bloom.
Youqing stared at the spilled blackness, chest rising and falling too fast.
The method was reckless. Dangerous. One misstep and Ye Yi could turn the opened road onto her, seize her body, or scatter Ling Shuo's soul beyond recall.
Yet the light in her eyes only hardened.
"Even if it's perilous… I'll do it. Ling Shuo can't be taken like this and simply… vanish."
Lamplight swayed. Her shadow stretched long on the wall, solitary and unbending.
Youqing sat back down and stacked the torn bamboo slips and loose pages with care, but the thoughts in her head refused to settle.
"To guide a soul… I need a medium."
She closed her eyes, recalling what the texts had said:
Black Yao could anchor the spirit, calm the soul, and open the soul-road.
And bloodline was the soul's only true lock and key.
She opened her eyes slowly, a weight sinking into her chest.
"Black Yao as the guide. Blood as the medium… If I use Ling Shuo's blood to open the array, I can lock onto his soul and prevent it from blending with Ye Yi."
She took a vermilion brush and sketched rapidly:
An outer ring of black-obsidian stones, arranged to draw inward and gather.
A middle ring, marked by blood, to map the path of return.
And at the very core: a thread of "welcoming breath," a tether to pull the rightful soul home.
Her brush trembled.
"If this succeeds… Ye Yi will be forced to show himself."
Her fingers tightened until her knuckles whitened.
The array might fail. The backlash might be catastrophic.
But her eyes did not waver.
"If I don't try… Ling Shuo will never return."
Wind slipped through the window cracks. Candlelight made the inked sigils flash and fade.
Those overlapping drafts, messy and relentless, were the only hope she could hold.
[Side Courtyard · Night]
The stone tiles had been cleaned and redrawn. A small array lay on the ground, newly traced by Youqing's hand.
She placed obsidian stones by the diagram, ring by ring, each fitting into the next, each giving off a faint, cold sheen.
At the center lay a small bird, freshly dead. Its feathers still held warmth. Its eyes were clouded.
Youqing crouched, staring. Her heart tightened until it almost hurt.
"If this truly works… it proves my theory."
She bit her fingertip. Blood welled. She let a drop fall on the bird's chest.
Then she raised her hands, swift and precise, and murmured:
"Blood as medium. Yao as guide. Open the soul-road… Guide the soul!"
The stone array trembled. From the gaps between the black stones, a ring of bluish light lit like a restrained breath.
Youqing's heart clenched. She continued:
"A soul has a home. Hear my call… Return!"
The bird's stiff body shuddered.
Its wings twitched.
For a heartbeat, the clouded eyes cleared as if a spark had passed through them. Its beak parted, as though it might sing.
Youqing held her breath, joy flaring sharp in her eyes.
"It worked…!"
But the light died in an instant. The bird sagged again, lifeless.
Youqing stood frozen, fingers trembling.
That moment had been real. A soul had been drawn back, if only briefly.
It was enough to prove it:
Guide, then return could work.
She gripped her brush until her hand ached, her gaze turning absolute.
"If I adjust the sigils… if I pull Ye Yi out of Ling Shuo's body… Ling Shuo's soul can come back."
Wind howled. Candlelight shook. Her shadow remained solitary, yet unshaken, as though she meant to fight the dark itself.
But the night did not allow her triumph to linger.
The array flared, then snapped back like a jaw.
A cold force surged from the stone tiles straight toward her brow.
Youqing's mind slammed white. Her vision blackened.
A foreign pulling power seized her, trying to tear her own soul out of her body.
She staggered. Cold sweat drenched her back. Her awareness blurred, and she saw, for a terrifying instant, her shadow lifting half an inch away from her flesh.
"No… I can't…!"
She bit her tongue hard and spat a mist of blood, forcing her spirit back into place.
The array's light collapsed. Silence swallowed everything.
The bird lay still.
Youqing braced one hand against the stone, breathing violently. Sweat streamed down her forehead.
Her fingers shook, but they still clamped around her brush like iron.
"So close… I almost got carried across myself."
Her voice was hoarse, and yet a cold smile crept in, thin and dangerous.
"If it can pull at me… it means the soul-road is truly open."
Her eyes sharpened again.
"This method works. I only need to steady the array… and Ling Shuo will return."
The wind battered her fragile silhouette, but it could not extinguish the frost-bright light in her gaze.
The wick burned low again. Youqing sat before the desk, holding a talisman paper still wet with blood.
Her brow was tightly drawn, but her eyes glittered with something strange.
"A small beast can be drawn back… but only for a breath. Not enough to sustain the full returning."
She tapped the bamboo slip lightly, thinking.
"To truly verify it… I need a method closer to a human soul."
A thought rose in her mind, sharp and mad:
Half a soul stepping out.
Her heart pounded.
Use a living body as the test. Anchor the main soul with a calming talisman, then draw out a thread of spirit through the guiding array, and try to summon it back.
Only then could she confirm whether "guide, then return" could be made stable.
"…But if I fail," she whispered, voice so low it was almost a warning to herself, "the soul-road will collapse. The test subject's soul will scatter forever."
Youqing closed the ancient book slowly.
"This path is mine alone. If anyone must risk it… it should be me."
Her palm pressed to her chest, feeling the frantic weight of her own heartbeat.
Better her own life than another's.
Lamplight swayed. Her shadow looked like a sword about to slide into its sheath, quietly deciding it would cut open a road that should not exist.
[Quiet Chamber · Deep Night]
Only a final thread of flame remained in the lamp.
Youqing took a clean sheet and wrote rapidly, each stroke heavy.
"If I… do not return, do not abandon this art.
Ye Yi's possession is a corrupted reversal of soul-transference.
I propose: guide first, then return, to break his method.
May those who come after inherit these fragments and complete the art, so the true souls may be saved."
Her hand trembled, but she didn't stop. After a pause, she added in smaller lines:
"Ling Shuo's soul remains. It only waits for the road to open again.
…Tell him I never gave up."
The ink was still wet when she folded the paper and slid it into the most unremarkable, battered scroll. Then she pushed it to the deepest part of the shelf and stared at it for a long time.
"If I come back, I'll burn it with my own hands.
If I don't… at least someone will know I tried."
Her whisper was as light as wind, but the decision inside it was immovable.
The flame finally died.
Darkness filled the room.
Youqing rose. Her back was straight, solitary, and unyielding. Only that hidden page remained, guarding her unfinished wish.
[Quiet Chamber · Later That Night]
The window lattice creaked faintly in the wind.
Garo pushed the door open for a routine check.
His eyes swept the room and caught a battered scroll placed just slightly out of place. He reached for it. A folded page slipped free and fell.
He picked it up without thinking and read.
His breath stopped.
"If I… do not return…"
As he read on, his gaze turned heavy, then darker.
"Ling Shuo's soul remains… Tell him I never gave up…"
Garo's fingers shook from how tightly he gripped the paper.
If she succeeded, it wouldn't only be Ling Shuo.
Even… his sister might have a path back from her broken state.
It was the deepest thing he'd wanted for so long.
But if she failed…
Garo's chest tightened as though a boulder had been dropped inside it.
You Emperor.
The Underworld Emperor was not only the sovereign Garo had followed all his life, but also a friend and benefactor.
If Youqing's soul scattered because of this experiment… how could he face You Emperor?
How could You Emperor bear the pain of losing a daughter?
Garo closed his eyes, drew in one long breath, and slipped the page back into the scroll as if he had never seen it.
But his fingers stayed white with strain, unable to hide the turmoil in his heart.
"Imperial Daughter… if you truly take this step," he murmured soundlessly, "then do not fail."
"Otherwise, I cannot save my sister… and I will have no face left to stand before You Emperor."
In the night, his silhouette was cold and sharp, yet weighted, as though carrying chains from two worlds.
[Side Corridor]
Moonlight flowed along the silent corridor.
Garo stood with hands behind his back, eyes on the half-closed door of the quiet chamber.
He knew she was inside again, drawing sigils under lamplight.
The words on that hidden page pricked him like needles. He could not sleep.
He understood: this road was so perilous it barely had a return.
He also understood: if she succeeded, Ling Shuo could come home, and perhaps… his sister too could be drawn back from scattering.
The conflict churned in his chest until breathing felt heavy.
In the end, he did not knock. Did not speak.
He only stood guard in silence.
[Outside the Quiet Chamber]
The night was deep.
A single lamp burned in the study, its warm light leaking through the window cracks.
Inside, Youqing bent over her work, brush racing through sigils.
Outside, in the shadow, Garo stood still.
He knew what he was doing: guarding her, supporting her from the dark.
Yet if this ever reached You Emperor's ears, he could not explain it. He would be accused of selfishness. Of private intent.
The conflict surged, and still he did not retreat.
His gaze crossed the dim courtyard and settled on that lone lamp.
"If you must walk this road," he murmured, voice rough as gravel, "I won't stop you."
"The only thing I can do… is make sure you can walk the final step without fear."
Wind brushed the corridor. Lamplight swayed.
He turned and disappeared into the shadows again, cold and solitary, carrying a wordless resolve.
[Quiet Chamber · Night]
Lamplight trembled. Sigils spread across the desk. Youqing drew them again and again, sweat beading at her brow.
Her scarlet eyes flickered with a red sheen.
Black Yao energy circled her, thickening into mist, as if it meant to swallow her whole.
Then, deep within the fog, a thread of light appeared.
A flower.
A white spider lily, petals thin as snow, its heart holding a faint, quiet glow.
For a moment, it felt as though an underworld river rolled past, the far shore blurred, and only that solitary white bloom stood clear, cold, and absolute in the dark.
Youqing froze.
Moisture gathered in her eyes.
"So that's it…"
Soul-transference was never meant to steal.
When a soul scattered in fright, it needed a crossing to find the way back.
Like this flower, born in the realm of the dead, yet existing to light a path home for the lost.
Her chest rose sharply.
At last, she lifted her brush and added the final stroke at the center of the array.
The black mist shuddered.
The white spider lily's phantom bloom flared, pressing the nether energy down in a single breath.
The light vanished as quickly as it came, but it burned itself into her heart.
Youqing whispered, voice steady now, eyes colder than before:
"Transference… Returning…"
"The true crossing was never theft."
"It was a guiding."