The gold tassels produce a faint sound as Yu Shun moves slightly, tilting his head in my owner’s direction. His emotionless expression makes it difficult to read his mind, and his mannerisms also do not give me any significant clues.

There is a feminine beauty about Yu Shun — a clear sign of his deep cultivation base. The rumor that he was on the verge of advancing to the Nascent Soul realm was not exaggerated. To me, his dantian appears to be full, nearly bursting. I can sense a Gold Core within his dantian that is also of a pristine grade.

“You are still alive,” he says with a quiet, monotone voice.

Wu Yulan is equally as transfixed as Lan Xiaohui is; she is both frozen in fear but also unable to look away from this extravagant individual. Even in stillness, his bloodied sword exudes an extreme air of tyranny and domination, and most of all, certain death. I can almost taste every death that sword has inflicted, and the number must be in the hundreds now.

If Yu Shun were my owner instead of Lan Xiaohui, where would we be now?

“I heard that these lowlifes have been harassing Yun Fei,” Yu Shun says, turning his head to nod at the door and the person behind it. “Since we will be in the same sect and of equal rank, I thought I would solve her little problem for her. You don’t mind that I stepped in?”

Little problem. To Yu Shun, slaughtering half a dozen people — going by the number of body parts in the corridor and the amount of blood — must be exactly that. Just a little problem. I find this a rather admirable outlook.

But to Yu Shun, this does not constitute an act of evil; there is no lack of righteousness in his words and heart; taking life is merely an act of accelerating nature. In this case, the nature that Yu Shun paints with his sword is a jungle in which cultivators exist to fight and die until one supreme being emerges.

After a moment, Yu Shun shows his first emotion — anger — as he narrows his eyes at my owner. “Xiaohui,” he says. “I asked you a question.”

My owner blinks, gulping in a breath when she is addressed, and then shakes her head. “I don’t mind…” is all she can say. They are not even the words she wants to say, but I can feel the warping in her heart and the dominion that fear has over her.

Here, he stands before her, the object of her vengeance, hatred, passion, and obsession, yet she is unable to move of her own will or speak her true mind.

Is it because this meeting was unexpected and she was unprepared? Would she, under different circumstances, have the freedom to act differently?

Yu Shun’s gaze falls on my vessel briefly, and as my owner consciously moves me to hide my form behind hers, he speaks. “It is different now, but I recognize that sword.” His gaze rises to meet Lan Xiaohui’s. “There was a time when I was obsessed with it — like I have been obsessed with you. It seems like a lifetime ago that I possessed both of you.”

It is those words that remind my owner what she has come to this city for — the reason why she dragged her corpse out of that forest, and set down on a path of destruction. Lan Xiaohui’s killing intent rises from the deepest, frozen pit in her heart and sheds its brilliance into her being — its blinding, bloodthirsty brilliance.

Yu Shun smiles, suddenly, perhaps sensing this killing intent.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Isn’t it a comical coincidence,” he says, tossing away the severed head toward my owner; it rolls, before coming to a stop at Lan Xiaohui's feet. “Both the things I discarded and no longer want have come together in the same place?”

Lan Xiaohui’s hand trembles as Yu Shun speaks those words. Her fear is now entirely replaced by cold rage, but even so, the reality of the situation is now clear to her. As she is now, she cannot win against Yu Shun. So she desperately tries to calm herself — to withstand this humiliation. And this is not only for her sake. It is for Yun Fei’s sake as well. And Wu Yulan’s. If she were to throw herself against Yu Shun now — discarding her life for nothing — would Wu Yulan simply stand there and watch this happen? Of course she wouldn’t.

Slowly, Yu Shun sheathes his sword and smiles politely. “Congratulations on joining the Galaxy Sword sect, Xiaohui,” he says and then turns away. “Give my regards to Yun Fei.”

Calmly, Yu Shun passes by Lan Xiaohui and Wu Yulan, not even looking at them, and then descends down the stairs. The shadow lags behind him, but it also eventually departs, leaving my owner and her companion in the corridor.

Lan Xiaohui’s nostrils flare, a mix of rage and the stinging of the coppery taste of blood in the heavy air.

“That was… the Black Tiger?” Wu Yulan whispers.

Without replying to her companion, or paying any heed to the devastation other than being careful enough not to slip in the blood or trip on the dismembered bodies, Lan Xiaohui rushes to the door and swings it wide open.

I clatter to the floor as Lan Xiaohui drops me when she sees the scene beyond the door and falls to her knees.

Impaled on the wall by a spear, Yun Fei’s limp body hangs, pinned to a strange diagram drawn in blood, with both her hands also nailed to the wall in such a way that her body remains upright through tension.

Lan Xiaohui’s mouth opens, and her lips move, forming the shapes to call out Yun Fei’s name but no sound comes out.

Tears break free and run down her cheeks as my owner doubles over and produces the only sound she is capable of: a howling groan of sorrow and fury.

Her heart breaks; it bursts. To me, it appears as though her Dao Heart, the center of all her emotions, explodes with scintillating colors that glimmer like stars in the void of her spiritual being, turning darker and redder.

The second sound she makes is a bone-shaking roar, and I can barely make out the name she shouts: “Yu Shun!!!”

She reaches over, grabbing my sheath as she tries to climb to her feet and run after the man that once more took something precious from my owner, but slips on the blood and falls flat on the ground.

Before she can manage to stand up once more, Wu Yulan throws herself at Lan Xiaohui and wraps both arms around my owner, restraining her.

“Don’t!” Wu Yulan yells. “Don’t die for nothing!”

“Let me go!” Lan Xiaohui screams in a tone that is something between a moan and a roar. “I must kill him!”

“You can’t!” Wu Yulan exclaims, holding on even tighter to Lan Xiaohui, even as my owner’s flailing arms result in Wu Yulan taking an elbow to her face. This does not dissuade her from holding on to my owner.

“Not now,” Wu Yulan whispers. “Not yet. You will avenge her, I promise you. Please, Xuelian. You can’t.”

Now, my owner’s tears and the sorrow in her heart overwhelm her and she grows limp in Wu Yulan’s arms.

There is nothing but sorrow in her heart now. The taste of the same powerlessness she felt a year ago when her cultivation was broken — or even before that, when Yu Shun made her his concubine instead of his wife — now once more taints the colorlessness of her broken heart.

She whimpers, burying her face in Wu Yulan’s bosom and tries the best she can not to cry — not to admit defeat here and now — but as the seconds pass, it turns out to be a losing battle.

“Yu… Shun…” a voice comes from behind the two and they both freeze.

“Yu… Shun…” once more, the voice calls out faintly.

“Yun Fei…?” Lan Xiaohui asks as she looks over her shoulder to the impaled girl.

Yun Fei smiles weakly, her eyes closed. “Yu Shun… please…”

Lan Xiaohui slips from Wu Yulan’s grasp and crawls on her knees toward Yun Fei. “It’s me, Yun Fei. It’s Xiaohui. Yu Shun is gone.” There is a tone of rising hope in my owner’s voice.

“Yu Shun… I can’t take it anymore… please… please… kill me.”

Lan Xiaohui freezes when she hears those words, her mind finally enduring too much shock to remain functional.

Yun Fei laughs weakly, the motion enough to aggravate her wound and produce pouring blood from the point in her stomach where the spear impales her to the wall. “Please… release me... let me… die…”