CHP 22 Into the Mist
Wang San caught up to her before she disappeared into the fog.
"How can it be rebuilt?" he demanded, breath quickening.
Wang Xiao's hood shifted slightly, but she didn't look back. "I know the way."
"Tell me now."
She paused, her fingers brushing the edge of her cloak. "Some truths can't be spoken in the open. Follow me."
San hesitated. Her voice was calm, but it held an edge — the kind that could cut through lies. Against every ounce of common sense, he followed.
They left the town behind, walking along a narrow path that wound higher and higher into the mountains. The air grew colder, the mist thicker, until the moonlight was little more than a pale blur overhead.
At last, they reached a ridge where the world seemed to fall away on all sides. A small shrine stood there, ancient and cracked, its surface carved with symbols San didn't recognize.
"This is it?" he asked.
"This is where you rest," she said softly.
Before he could react, she stepped closer — her hand brushing lightly against his arm. A strange warmth spread from her touch, rushing through his veins. His vision blurred, his knees buckled.
"What… did you…" His words slurred, the world tilting beneath him.
Her voice, distant now, murmured, "You'll understand when you wake up."
The last thing he saw before darkness took him was her turning toward the shrine, the mist curling around her like living threads, and for a split second — the faint glow of a phoenix feather at her waist.