Chapter 15 – Binding Ink

Lin Yue clicked the iron lock shut and pressed her ear against the wooden door. The familiar sounds of the inn—drunken laughter, clinking dishes, and shuffling feet—filtered through. No shouts about murderers or cultivators. No city guards pounding up the stairs.

She stepped back and examined her new black silk robes in the bronze mirror. Not a single crimson drop marred the fabric. The speed of cultivation had protected her from the usual mess of murder.

So that’s why the law wants cultivators to stay separate from mortals. The power imbalance turned any conflict into a slaughter. Especially for those who encountered those who walked the demonic path.

The ease of tonight’s kills puzzled her, though. No one had noticed her killing spree—no spiritual alarms, no cultivator response team. Maybe because she’d waited for prey to come to her instead of clearing entire streets like a proper demon?

Shadow bobbed near the ceiling, drunk on fresh souls. His serpentine form twisted in lazy loops as he muttered about finding more victims. Lin Yue ignored his ravings. The difference between tonight and the Tiger Gang massacre eluded her, but Shadow’s current state made him useless for answers.

The red ink mark on her arm sent sharp tingles through her skin. Master Ruixian’s command echoed through her thoughts with the same cold precision he’d delivered it.

Come back after you open your meridians. If you fail to do so in ten days, kill yourself.

The mark pulsed again. Her newly opened meridians buzzed with spiritual energy—perhaps triggering the reaction. A cold sweat broke across her skin as the implications sank in.

But wait.

Lin Yue traced the mark with her fingertip. The old bastard hadn’t specified how many meridians needed opening. She’d cleared the five major ones, the main channels, and quite a few minor ones.

Technically speaking, she hadn’t broken his command. Plenty of smaller meridians remained blocked throughout her body.

Ten days. Some of those were already gone.

Lin Yue stared at Xue’s sleeping form. The girl curled into a tight ball under the thin blanket, breaths steady and peaceful.

She grabbed the Sable Script manual from beneath her pillow and settled at the desk. The lamp light cast dancing shadows across the detailed diagrams of meridians and soul bindings. Each page revealed secrets and demonic wisdom.

When Shadow finally sobered up, he occasionally pointed out details she missed. The nights blurred together as she studied, practiced the brush strokes, and memorized the intricate patterns needed for the soul binding tattoo.

Their silver dwindled. Inn fees and meals ate through their funds until copper scraps remained. But Lin Yue’s newfound powers solved that problem. Her enhanced speed and strength made picking marks child’s play. They never saw her coming—just felt their purses vanish as she passed.

Five days of study and practice later, Lin Yue felt she could attempt the binding. The market yielded everything she needed—grinding stone, essence powders, special inks, hollow needles. The tools of a demonic tattooist filled her bag.

Back in their room, Shadow retched up a fresh soul into the mixing bowl. She ground the components together, adding drops of spiritual essence until the ink turned midnight black. Without a proper qi-sealed container, it would only last a few days, but that would suffice.

After their usual dinner of noodles and vegetables, Xue trudged up the stairs toward their room. Lin Yue corked the bottle of soul-ink. Time to begin.

Xue splashed water on her face from the washbasin, droplets scattering across the worn wooden counter. She patted her skin dry with the threadbare towel and turned toward their bed.

“It’s time,” Lin Yue said.

“Oh, okay.” Xue’s small fingers twisted in her robe.

“Strip and lay down on the bed.”

Xue pulled off her clothes and climbed onto the mattress. She grabbed a pillow, hugging it tight against her chest as she settled onto her stomach.

Lin Yue sat beside her and arranged the tools on a clean cloth—needles, ink, and cloths lined up with precise spacing. The flame licked at the needles as she sterilized each one.

“This will hurt a bit.” Lin Yue tested the first needle’s point and drew her own blood and added it to the ink. “Stay still and hold onto that pillow as tight as you need to.”

Xue nodded, eyes fixed on the gleaming metal. Her knuckles whitened around the pillow’s edges.

“See how the ink sits inside?” Lin Yue held up a needle, turning it to catch the light. “I’ll push it through your skin, and the ink will stay underneath. It’ll sting, but it won’t kill you. This is how we’ll complete the binding.”

Xue nodded. “Okay.”

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Shadow coiled near the ceiling. “Won’t kill her—if you get it right. And since this is your first time...” He chuckled darkly. “That’s quite the if.”

Lin Yue ignored him, but her stomach twisted. The needle trembled slightly between her fingers as she dipped it into the midnight-black ink.

She traced the first line across Xue’s pale skin. The needle pushed deep, depositing ink beneath the surface. Dark characters bloomed like poisonous flowers, each stab precise and deliberate. The manual lay open beside her, its diagrams guiding her movement.

The fractal pattern spiraled outward from a perfect circle at the center of Xue’s back. Each line connected to form an intricate web of power. The soul-infused ink spread through the channels Lin Yue created, following ancient paths of binding.

Xue remained motionless throughout the process. Not a single twitch or whimper escaped as the needles pierced her flesh again and again. The pillow remained clutched tight against her chest, but her breathing stayed steady and calm.

Lin Yue released a slow breath as she completed the final jab. The pattern matched the manual’s illustration perfectly—every curve and angle aligned with cultivator precision.

One step remained.

Lin Yue picked up her knife and sliced across her thumb. Blood welled up dark and thick. She pressed the wound into the circle at the center of the design.

Blue light erupted from the markings. The characters blazed across Xue’s skin like burning stars.

“Looks like you did it!” Shadow cackled from above.

Heat radiated from the inscription as power surged through the binding. The markings pulsed.

Xue sucked in a sharp breath. A long, peaceful sigh escaped her lips. Then silence fell as her breathing stopped completely.

A blue orb rose from Xue’s lifeless body, pulsing with spirit light. The soul floated upward, casting soft azure reflections across the room’s wooden walls.

Shadow circled the glowing sphere, his serpentine form twisting in excitement. “Such a pure little soul. Maybe we could share? Just a tiny taste?”

“Touch it and I’ll find every exorcist manual in existence until one works.” Lin Yue bared her teeth.

Shadow puffed up like an offended cat. “Fine. Be that way.” He slithered to a dark corner, muttering about ungrateful hosts.

The soul drifted in place, its light already dimming. Xue’s chest remained still—no breath, no movement.

No time to waste.

Lin Yue inhaled sharply, drawing the soul toward her. The orb phased through her skin, sliding into her spiritual network like ice water.

Panic erupted inside her meridians. Xue’s soul bounced frantically through the channels, a trapped bird fighting invisible cage bars. The desperate energy threatened to tear the newly opened pathways apart.

Lin Yue wrapped her spiritual essence around the terrified soul, enveloping it in warmth. I’ve got you. You’re safe. She poured comfort through their connection, a gentle embrace of energy.

The chaotic movements slowed. Xue’s soul settled, nestling into the protective cocoon.

Lin Yue pressed her palm against Xue’s cold skin. Spiritual energy threaded through the girl’s empty shell, seeking the vital core. The qi probe discovered Xue’s dantian—a solid, dead mass like granite beneath her navel.

A quick jab of concentrated energy pierced the crystallized spiritual center. The rigid surface cracked and collapsed, leaving an empty vessel. Lin Yue traced her qi back through Xue’s network, weaving a gossamer thread between soul and flesh.

Energy flowed through the connection. Xue’s body convulsed. The girl bolted upright, coughing and choking as air rushed into her lungs. Crimson light blazed in her eyes as she gasped for breath.

“Everything feels... strange.” Xue panted between words. “Like… I’m in two places at once?”

Lin Yue pulled her into a tight embrace. “It worked.”

“Pity.” Shadow drifted closer. “I rather hoped you’d botch it. Would’ve made a tasty snack.”

Xue jumped at the voice and stared up at the serpentine form. “He’s even uglier than you described.”

“I am not ugly!” Shadow puffed up again. “I am a magnificent shadow dragon god!”

Xue squinted at him. “For a god, you’re awfully small.”

“All the more reason to gather souls!” Shadow spun in agitated loops. “I must restore my former glory!”

Lin Yue snorted at Shadow’s declaration. The “god” part seemed questionable—more like a parasite with delusions of grandeur.

Xue leaned against her shoulder, warm and alive. The soul binding had worked perfectly, though Lin Yue couldn’t shake the image of Xue’s lifeless body from her mind.

Technically, she was dead. If Xue’s body was destroyed, her soul would remain inside her spiritual network and she could be deposited into another vessel. The manual had described the process clinically, but experiencing it firsthand twisted her stomach into knots.

Tomorrow loomed and created even more anxiety. The demonic market’s eternal twilight waited, filled with creatures that would devour them both, given half a chance. And beyond that...

Lin Yue rubbed her arm where Master Yan’s mark burned.

Blackspire Pavilion. The name alone sent chills through her newly opened meridians. What twisted trials awaited? What horrors would the old bastard demand?

The mark pulsed again, a constant reminder of her bound status. She possessed no reference point for what a proper master expected from disciples. The stories she barely remembered from Earth painted cultivator sects as places of enlightenment and wisdom.

But this was different. The Sable Script manual spoke of defying nature’s laws and re-writing reality with ink and will, of power gained through others’ suffering.

Master Yan had proven himself a manipulator who collected souls like others gathered coins.

The only path she saw was to become a better merchant of the dark.