Chapter 23: Standard Antagonist Confrontation

Xiulan rushed forward, dropping to her knees beside Mei Chen’s crumpled form. Relief flooded through her as she counted fingers, toes, limbs—all intact. The momentary comfort evaporated when she pulled Mei Chen into her lap.

Blood saturated the once-pristine servant’s robes, now reduced to filthy tatters. Mei Chen’s face bore the worst—swollen beyond recognition, crusted blood sealed her eyes shut. Raw, torn flesh marked systematic torture across her features.

“Mei Chen?” Xiulan pressed trembling fingers against Mei Chen’s neck. The pulse flickered weakly beneath her touch, each beat separated by terrifying pauses. “Please wake up. Please.”

Ice gripped Xiulan’s spine. They’d meant for Mei Chen to die here, abandoned in this putrid cell. The thought sent rage coursing through her core.

Xiulan fumbled through her robes, fingers closing around Jin Wei’s emergency pills. The small item nearly slipped from her blood-slicked hands.

“Mei Chen, you need to take this.” Xiulan tapped Mei Chen’s shoulder. “Please wake up enough to swallow.”

A pained groan escaped Mei Chen’s split lips—the only response to increasingly desperate attempts to rouse her.

Xiulan lifted the pill to Mei Chen’s mouth, sliding it beneath her tongue. It wasn’t meant to work that way, but maybe it could help somehow?

She needed something else. She set Mei Chen down gently and exited, bounding up stone steps two at a time. A clean water urn presented itself. She snatched it, along with a wooden bowl.

Back in the cell, Mei Chen remained motionless on the filthy floor. The unchanged pill still sat uselessly under her tongue. Xiulan pulled the second emergency pill from her robe. Drawing upon her qi, she channeled the energy into her palm and then squeezed with all her might. The fragments sparkled as they fell into the wooden bowl.

“Stupid.” Xiulan muttered while removing the intact pill from Mei Chen’s mouth. Her servants had already proven how resilient the pills were—they’d survived being covered in gunk and smacked around with sticks without a scratch.

Of course it wouldn’t dissolve naturally in the mouth.

She cradled Mei Chen against her chest, positioning her head with a slight tilt. Xiulan dipped her finger into the medicine-infused water and carefully dripped the solution between Mei Chen’s cracked lips.

Drop by drop, she fed the healing mixture to her friend. Each precious bead carried hope for recovery.

Xiulan’s hands shook as she dripped more medicine between Mei Chen’s lips.

Each drop rolled down without response.

The shallow rise and fall of Mei Chen’s chest grew weaker. The erratic pulse beneath Xiulan’s fingertips skipped and faltered.

A wet gurgle broke the dungeon’s silence. Mei Chen’s body shifted against the stone floor. Xiulan’s breath caught.

“Mei Chen? Mei Chen!”

Trembling fingers clutched at Xiulan’s black robes. The fabric bunched in Mei Chen’s weak grip.

“Can you understand me?” Xiulan leaned closer, searching the battered face for signs of consciousness.

The slightest nod answered—barely perceptible in the dim light.

“Listen carefully. You need to swallow this healing pill.” Xiulan pulled out the remaining emergency medicine pill. “Here, open your mouth.” She pressed the pill past Mei Chen’s split lips and lifted the wooden bowl. “Small sips. Please.”

Mei Chen choked violently on the water. Her body convulsed, desperate wheezes echoing off stone walls. Xiulan’s stomach lurched as Mei Chen struggled for air.

The coughing subsided, but no healing glow spread through Mei Chen’s body. No color returned to her grey-tinged skin. Instead, her breathing grew more labored, each inhale a painful rasp.

“Please.” Xiulan clutched Mei Chen’s hand. “Please get better. Don’t leave me here alone.” The words tumbled out in desperate whispers. “I need you. Please.”

The rasping breaths stopped.

Xiulan counted the seconds of silence. One. Three. Ten. Too many.

“No!” She pinched Mei Chen’s nose closed, sealed their mouths together, and exhaled hard.

Mei Chen’s chest rose with the forced breath. She convulsed, coughing weakly, then drew a shallow breath on her own.

But a few moments later Mei Chen’s chest stilled again. The silence screamed louder than any torture could.

Xiulan pressed their mouths together again, forcing air into unresponsive lungs. One breath. Two breaths. Three.

A weak cough rewarded her efforts. Mei Chen drew shallow, rattling breaths—each one a desperate fight against inevitability.

Xiulan fumbled through her robes, fingers closing around the golden meridian opening pill. The sphere gleamed dully in the dim light, too large for Mei Chen to swallow in her current state. But Xiulan remembered the sensation—how it had dissolved almost immediately, spreading warmth through her body.

Tears blurred her vision as she tilted Mei Chen’s head back. The pill slid past broken lips, and Xiulan guided it down as far as she could. Massaging the other girl’s throat, she willed the medicine to work.

Nothing changed. The shallow breaths stopped.

Xiulan’s fingers probed Mei Chen’s mouth, searching for the pill—but it had vanished. She sealed their lips together once more, desperately trying to force life back into her friend’s body. One breath. Two breaths. Three.

No response.

Xiulan sagged against the cold stone wall. The reality crashed over her like arctic water—Mei Chen lay dead in her arms. The bright, loyal girl who had stood by her side through everything… gone.

The tears dried on Xiulan’s face as rage crystallized in her chest. They hadn’t just killed a servant. They’d murdered her closest friend.

Xiulan gathered Mei Chen’s broken body into her arms. The girl weighed almost nothing as Xiulan stood, turning toward the dungeon stairs.

She strode through the dim corridors. Blood dripped from Mei Chen’s robes, marking their path across polished wooden floors.

A guard rounded the corner, spear leveled. “Halt! Identify yourself!”

Xiulan channeled qi into her leg. The wooden floor splintered beneath her boot heel, sending a wave of deadly fragments forward. The guard’s eyes widened a moment before hundreds of wooden shards impaled him. His body flew backward, pinned to the far wall like a grotesque decoration.

A familiar scream pierced the night air from across the compound. “Help! Assassin! Save me!”

“Protect Young Master Lin!” Guards shouted from every direction.

Tears welled in Xiulan’s eyes at Zhang Wei’s perfect distraction. The sound of armored footsteps thundered through adjacent corridors as guards rushed toward his voice. Several ran past without sparing her a glance, their attention fixed on reaching their young master.

Xiulan pressed forward, each step leaving bloody footprints on the previously immaculate floors. The main gate loomed. She pushed through, emerging into the cool night air. Lantern light spilled across the square from her father’s ongoing banquet.

The crowd gathered outside the hall only noticed her approach when she was on top of them. Gasps rippled through the gathered servants. They scrambled backward, creating a path toward the stairs. Golden light from overhead lanterns cast dancing shadows across Mei Chen’s battered face.

Xiulan ascended, her enhanced muscles making the burden of her precious cargo feel weightless. The warm glow of the banquet hall beckoned.

She stepped into the banquet hall. Soldiers filled half the seats, their armor gleaming beneath paper lanterns.

The celebrations died as she advanced. Whispers faded to silence. The scent of spilled wine and rich food mixed with the metallic tang of blood dripping from Mei Chen’s lifeless form.

Noble faces turned ashen. Several guests stumbled back from their seats. Xiulan’s gaze fixed on the high table where her family sat in resplendent silks. Lord Lin’s stern disapproval. Madam Zhang’s smug satisfaction. Lin Jin’s barely concealed hatred. Qian and Fei’s matching sneers. Only Suyin showed genuine horror at the sight before them.

Xiulan shoved the nearest guests aside. Their chairs clattered across the polished floor. Dishes crashed as she swept a table clear with one arm, laying Mei Chen’s broken body across the lacquered surface. Blood pooled beneath her, staining elaborate carvings of phoenixes and dragons.

“What is the meaning of this?” Lord Lin’s shout echoed through the hall.

“You tortured and murdered her!” The words tore from Xiulan’s throat.

Madam Zhang’s lips curved into a cruel smile. “See how belligerent she has become? This is because you coddle her and that woman.”

Lord Lin shot to his feet, jabbing a finger at Xiulan. “You are no longer the second daughter—you are a concubine’s brat! You’ve shamed this family!”

Ice crystallized in Xiulan’s chest. “It would have been fine if you had just let things be.” Her voice dropped to a deadly whisper that somehow still carried across the entire hall. “But, YOU KILLED HER!”

“You dare?” Lord Lin’s face purpled with rage.

“I... dare?” The words hissed through Xiulan’s clenched teeth. Her hand flexed, missing the familiar weight of her spear.

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A guard stood frozen nearby, weapon loose in his grip. Xiulan crossed the distance in a single qi-enhanced step. The spear tore free as she backhanded him. His body crumpled.

Xiulan spun toward the high table, weapon raised. The spear left her hand like lightning.

Wood splintered. Steel flashed. Sister Qian’s head separated from her shoulders in a spray of crimson. Her body slumped forward as arterial blood painted elaborate robes and delicate dishes. The headless corpse twitched, heart still pumping frantically.

Screams erupted through the hall. Guests scrambled over each other in panic.

“GUARDS! KILL HER!” Lord Lin’s command thundered above the chaos.

Xiulan kicked the ornate banquet table. It spun through the air, scattering dishes and wine as it crashed into the approaching guards. Their armored bodies tumbled like scattered pins. She snatched a fallen spear from the chaos, testing its familiar weight.

The remaining guards moved with practiced efficiency—Lord Lin spared no expense on their equipment or training. Their polished armor gleamed beneath the paper lanterns as they formed a coordinated attack pattern.

Each face showed grim determination, having witnessed her earlier display of lethal force. They surged forward as one unit.

Instructor Han’s training took over. Xiulan’s enhanced muscles responded with fluid grace. Her heart maintained a steady rhythm as she regulated her breathing. The world slowed to a crystalline focus.

Steel flashed through the air. Xiulan weaved between thrusting spears like water flowing around stones. The shaft of her weapon bent with a resounding crack as it connected with a guard’s temple. His unconscious form catapulted into two others, sending them sprawling.

Three more guards lunged forward. Xiulan side-stepped their coordinated attack. Her boot swept the lead attacker’s leg, toppling him forward. In the same motion, her spear pierced through the second and third guards’ breastplates. Hot blood sprayed across her black robes.

The spear stuck fast in cooling flesh. Xiulan released it, grabbing another guard’s weapon mid-thrust. She spun, using his own momentum to launch him through the air. He crashed into a pillar with a sickening crunch.

Her gaze locked onto the high table. Madam Zhang’s smug expression faltered as understanding dawned—these guards couldn’t stop what was coming. Raw fear replaced her step-mother’s usual contempt.

Xiulan sprinted forward. Guards moved to intercept, weapons raised. She leaped, muscles coiling with qi-enhanced power. Her fingers caught the overhead beam. She flexed, kicked off the wooden support, and soared through the air.

Her boots slammed into the high table. Expensive wood splintered beneath the impact, splitting the elaborate furniture in two. Dishes shattered. Wine splashed across silk robes.

Madam Zhang grabbed Fei’s arm with desperate strength. Both women turned to flee.

Xiulan surged forward. Her spear hummed through the air, finding its mark between Sister Fei’s shoulder blades with surgical precision. Steel parted flesh and bone, severing her spine.

Fei dropped like a puppet with cut strings, dragging Madam Zhang down. Zhang tugged at her daughter’s limp form.

“Get up! Keep moving!” Zhang’s shrill commands echoed through the hall.

Xiulan advanced. Blood dripped from her spear’s tip, each crimson drop marking her approach. Madam Zhang pulled Fei’s motionless body into an embrace, tears streaming down her painted face as she stared up at Xiulan.

“Feels terrible, doesn’t it?” Xiulan’s words cut like ice.

The spear whistled through the air toward Zhang’s throat. Steel rang against steel as a sword intercepted the strike. Another slash forced Xiulan to redirect her weapon.

Brother Lin Jin pressed forward, his blade weaving an intricate dance of death. Each strike flowed with practiced precision, testing her defenses from multiple angles. Xiulan backpedaled, recognizing the gulf between his mastery and her basic training.

Her enhanced muscles strained to match his speed. While she relied on raw power and reflexes, Jin’s attacks demonstrated years of refined technique. His sword found gaps in her defense she hadn’t known existed.

But he still couldn’t touch her.

He committed to an overhead strike, putting his full weight behind the blow. Xiulan recognized the opening and countered with everything she had. Their weapons met with devastating force. Jin’s sword spiraled away into the darkness.

“No!” Lord Lin’s desperate shout pierced the air.

Xiulan’s concealed dagger slid into her palm. She drove the blade up under Jin’s chin before tossing his body aside like discarded waste.

A metallic glint caught her eye. Madam Zhang’s arm swept outward. Pain erupted across Xiulan’s chest and arm as hidden needles found their mark.

She plucked the needles from her flesh with methodical precision, letting each one clatter against the wooden floor. Blood trickled from the tiny wounds.

“At least we’ll all die here together!” Madam Zhang spat the words through clenched teeth.

A cold smile spread across Xiulan’s face as she leaned close enough to smell the expensive perfume on Zhang’s neck. “That poison can’t touch me anymore. I’ve taken the first step on the path to immortality.”

Zhang’s eyes widened in recognition. The implication hit home a moment before Xiulan’s blade opened her throat. Blood sprayed in a crimson arc as Zhang collapsed.

A choked sob drew Xiulan’s attention. Suyin huddled in the corner, shoulders shaking as she pressed herself against the wall. Her elaborate robes spread around her like fallen petals.

Xiulan’s spear tip carved a meandering line through polished floorboards as she approached. She squatted before her sister, studying the tear-streaked face she’d once trusted.

“Why did you have to be like them, Sister Suyin?” The words dripped with acid. “Ming Hua fell over herself telling everything. Did you know your little game with the scroll would get Mei Chen arrested? Killed?”

The sharp scent of urine filled the air as Suyin dissolved into fresh sobs.

Xiulan stood, adjusting her grip on the spear. The weapon pierced through silk and flesh with equal ease, pinning Suyin to the wall like a butterfly in a collection. Her sister’s eyes went wide, then vacant.

A shuffle of armored boots drew her attention. Lord Lin stood rigid behind the ruins of the high table, surrounded by a protective ring of guards. Their weapons gleamed in the lantern light as they advanced.

Xiulan gripped the edge of a nearby table. The polished wood creaked under her fingers before she launched it through the air. Guards scattered like leaves, their formation breaking as they dove to avoid the projectile. Several tangled in their own spears, armor clanking against the floor.

She turned to Suyin’s corpse, yanking the blood-slicked spear from flesh and wood. The weapon came free with a wet sound that echoed through the hall.

The remaining guards regrouped, falling into a practiced spear formation. Steel tips gleamed in the lantern light as they advanced in lockstep. Xiulan dropped into a low stance, angling her spear parallel to the ground. The guards thrust as one—just as she’d anticipated.

Her weapon caught their spears from below. She twisted, channeling qi through her arms. The guards’ weapons flew upward, leaving them exposed. Xiulan struck like lightning. The spear blurred as she pierced throats and joints, finding gaps between armor plates. Each thrust met flesh with surgical precision.

Armored bodies thudded against the wooden dais.

A bead of sweat rolled down Xiulan’s temple. The needle wounds across her chest burned with increasing intensity. The poison was actually doing something, even if it was not much.

Lord Lin took a step back, his elaborate robes rustling against the floor. Fear replaced his usual stern countenance.

Xiulan raised her chin, meeting his gaze. Blood dripped from her spear onto polished wood as she planted it firmly. “I guess I dare, father.”

“How could you murder your family?” Lord Lin’s words echoed through the blood-soaked hall.

Xiulan barked out a harsh laugh. “Family? The same family that wanted me dead? Tried to poison me? The same family that murdered my maid?” Her spear traced idle patterns in the pooling blood. “Seems fair to me.”

Lord Lin’s teeth ground audibly. He thrust a finger toward the carnage. “That woman was a commoner! You slaughter your own blood over a servant?”

“That commoner meant more to me than all your pathetic lives combined.” Xiulan spat blood onto the polished floor. “Maybe you should have considered that before handing her to a sadist for torture and murder.”

Steel sang through the air as Lord Lin drew his sword. The blade caught lantern light, reflecting crimson from the bloodstained floors. He lunged forward with devastating speed.

Xiulan thrust her spear outward, maintaining critical distance. The difference between Jin’s sword work and her father’s mastery struck her immediately. Each of his attacks flowed with lethal precision, forcing her into a desperate retreat.

Raw power emanated from Lord Lin’s form as he pressed forward. His sword became a silver arc of death. Xiulan deflected a thrust aimed at her throat, then barely parried a slash that would have opened her belly. She countered with a desperate thrust that drove him back half a step.

The railing beckoned behind her. Xiulan leaped onto the narrow wooden beam, twisting over Lord Lin’s horizontal slash. She somersaulted through the air, striking at his exposed back—but his blade was already there, steel ringing against steel.

Their weapons clashed in a deadly dance. An invisible force pulsed through Lord Lin’s movements, lending supernatural speed and power to each strike. His sword technique spoke of decades of refinement.

Xiulan caught Lord Lin’s next thrust. Her enhanced muscles tensed as she twisted the spear shaft. Steel flashed. Blood sprayed across polished floors as his severed hand dropped with a wet thud, still clutching the ornate sword.

The difference crystallized in that moment. He fought with mortal strength against her cultivator’s might. His decades of martial mastery meant nothing against the fundamental gap between their existences.

Even as the youngest sapling on the mountain, she towered above the earthbound trees below.

Lord Lin snatched a concealed knife from his robes with his remaining hand. Xiulan’s boot connected with his wrist. The blade clattered across bloodstained wood. She planted her foot against his chest and shoved. His body crashed to the floor.

He pushed up to his knees, blood pooling beneath his maimed arm.

She pressed her boot against Lord Lin’s leg. The crunch of bone beneath her heel brought a primal shriek from his throat.

“Rejoice, father.” Xiulan twisted her foot. Another crack punctuated his scream. “Your daughter walks the path to immortality now. The Lin Family name will echo through the ages.”

Lord Lin writhed beneath her boot. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he fought against the pain.

“And Zhang Wei—” A genuine smile touched Xiulan’s lips. “That precious boy somehow grew up pure despite the rot surrounding him. He’ll make an excellent young master and heir with my help.”

Lord Lin snarled. His maimed arm swept upward in a desperate arc. Hot blood splashed across Xiulan’s face, metallic droplets stinging her eyes.

“Ungrateful wretch! After everything this family gave you—”

“It’s a two-way street, dad.”

The spear plunged down. Steel parted flesh and bone as the blade drove through his mouth and out the back of his neck. His eyes widened, then dimmed as life drained away.

The thundering in Xiulan’s ears settled to silence. She wiped her face with her sleeve, but there was so much blood that all it did was smear and prevent the drips from entering her eyes.

The cold emptiness that had filled her since finding Mei Chen’s broken body remained unchanged.

Sorrow crashed over her like a wave. All the death, all the blood—none of it would bring Mei Chen back. Rage burned out, leaving only ashes and grief.

Xiulan turned toward the entrance. Bodies littered the hall like fallen leaves. The guards who had chosen not to flee lay cooling in expanding pools of crimson.

Her boots left crimson footprints across polished wood as she trudged toward the entrance.

The lacquered table where she’d placed Mei Chen’s body came into view.

Xiulan’s steps faltered.

Dark liquid roiled off her body and cascaded off the wood’s edge, pooling on the floor below.

“Mei Chen?” The name escaped as barely a whisper.