Chapter 8 – The Rule of Two

The shelves of books pressed closer, their spines glowing with otherworldly symbols that pulsed like warning beacons.

There were times to bluff. Times to fight. Times to talk.

And times to run.

Lin Yue spun and bolted for the door, her feet pounding against the worn floorboards. Her bag slapped against her hip as spirit stones clinked inside.

A gust of wind slammed the door shut. The impact echoed through the shop like a death knell.

She whirled around, fingers already reaching for her knife. The shopkeeper remained motionless behind his counter, still focused on his book as if nothing had happened. His stillness only proved more terrifying.

Blood rushed through her ears as her heart hammered against her ribs. Shadow stretched lazily at the edge of his invisible tether, rolling through the air like smoke from an opium den.

“Getting interesting now, isn’t it?” Shadow’s words dripped with amusement.

The shopkeeper raised his palm toward Shadow. “Silence.”

Shadow convulsed mid-air. His serpentine form twisted as a dozen glowing orbs erupted from his maw. The souls streamed through the air like pearls on an invisible string, each one disappearing into an intricate tattoo etched across the shopkeeper’s palm.

Shadow spun in frantic circles, wheezing and choking.

Lin Yue’s stomach dropped. The pieces clicked together—the soul gathering, Shadow’s insistence on more kills, the convenient explanation about cultivation requirements. A scam. Every bit of it designed to feed this shopkeeper’s collection.

“You lying piece of shit.” Lin Yue clenched her fists. “Was any of it real? The spirit stones? The cultivation?”

Shadow’s laughter echoed through the shop. “Oh, you’d still die without collecting enough soul power to sustain me. Though I admit...” He twisted around her arm like smoke. “You might have gone a tad overboard with the body count.”

She wanted to wring his neck again, but she ignored Shadow’s taunting and focused on the shopkeeper. The old bastard still hadn’t looked up from his book. “What do you want?”

The shopkeeper turned a page. “If I desired your death or merely your soul, you’d already be another decoration in my collection.”

“Sure. Because that’s not ominous at all.” Lin Yue kept her hand on her knife.

“What I seek is far more useful.” The shopkeeper closed his book with a snap. “A disciple to serve.”

Lin Yue’s muscles tensed at the word ‘serve.’ Old memories surfaced—rough hands, dark alleys, desperate choices. The tension melted away as quickly as it came. It wouldn’t be the first time spreading her legs meant survival. She could manipulate—

A disgusted snort erupted from the shopkeeper. “Why do mortals invariably reduce everything to reproductive functions?”

“Wait.” Lin Yue blinked. “Did you just—”

“Read your thoughts? You broadcast them with the subtlety of a temple gong.” The shopkeeper tapped his fingers against the book’s leather cover. “I have no interest in such base desires. You should put them out of mind.”

“You’re in my head?”

“Unfortunately.”

Shadow unwound himself from his coiled position and flew around. “Speaking of heads, this one’s special. Double soul. Pure transmigration specimen.” He preened in the air. “Surely that deserves some reward for my excellent hunting?”

The book slammed onto the counter with a crack that shook dust from the shelves. The shopkeeper’s annoyance radiated across the room like a physical wave.

Shadows peeled away from the walls. They took shape—foxes, tigers, hounds—all formed of the same ethereal darkness as Shadow. Their eyes gleamed with hungry light as they circled through the air.

“Can we eat him?” The spirits spoke in overlapping whispers that scraped against Lin Yue’s skull. “Master, please? Just a taste?”

Shadow shot back to Lin Yue faster than an arrow, wrapping himself around her middle in trembling coils. His usual bravado evaporated.

A cultivator master meant power, knowledge, and resources. It also meant obligations, expectations, and probably a metric ton of rules about proper behavior and respect. The kind of stuff that made her want to stab someone just thinking about it.

And there’s no way this creepy soul-collecting book merchant doesn’t have ulterior motives . The question is whether those motives are worse than being stuck with a parasite dragon that apparently can’t even keep the souls it steals.

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“I’ve wasted my time attempting to reassure you.” The shopkeeper stood, robes rippling with hidden symbols. “You misunderstand. This isn’t a negotiation.”

What fucking reassurance? Lin Yue tensed. He hadn’t offered any—just jumped straight to threats.

A flash of crimson streaked through the air. Lin Yue snapped her arm up, blocking the splash of red ink from hitting her face. The liquid passed through her robe like it didn’t exist and burned against her skin like acid. She yanked her sleeve up, staring at the mark etched into her flesh.

“What the fuck?” The symbol pulsed with an inner light, similar to Shadow’s markings, but more... deliberate. Organized.

Lin Yue clawed at it, trying to scrape it off with her fingernails. It was just as bad as the shadow ink. The shopkeeper’s laughter echoed through the cramped shop, bouncing off walls of forbidden knowledge.

“Come to me.” His voice dripped honey and promises, wrapping around her mind like silk bonds.

Lin Yue’s muscles locked. Panic surged through her veins as she fought against the sudden seductive pull of his words. It reeked of mind control bullshit.

But nothing happened.

She remained rooted in place, the mark on her arm burning while her feet stayed firmly planted on the wooden floor.

“Don’t fret.” The shopkeeper’s words floated across the room. “You retain your free will and precious agency.”

Lin Yue snorted. Right. Because he was so into respecting people’s personal boundaries?

“Our organization differs from those self-righteous sects.” He traced a symbol in the air. “Your choices remain your own.”

The red mark blazed against Lin Yue’s skin like molten metal. Each pulse sent needles of agony through her flesh.

“Come here.” His command slithered through the air.

The burning intensified. Lin Yue gritted her teeth as understanding crashed over her. Agency meant choice—the choice between obeying or suffering. The mark burrowed deeper, setting her veins on fire. The pain crawled through her blood like acid eating through metal.

Fuck you and your agency. Lin Yue stepped forward, drilling holes into his smug face with her glare.

“Excellent.” The shopkeeper smiled. “Such raw emotion. Such defiance even in compliance.” He drummed his fingers against the counter. “You’ll grow quite powerful.”

The shopkeeper’s fingers danced across the manual’s blank pages. Black ink bloomed beneath his touch, spreading like spilled blood across previously pristine paper. The symbols twisted and writhed into readable text.

“These teachings will guide your path.” He pushed the manual toward Lin Yue. “Once mastered, you’ll join the Blackspire Sect as an outer disciple of Ink House.”

Shadow unwound himself from Lin Yue’s shoulders. “Boss, she’s got an attachment. A small pet.”

“Is that so?” Master Yan’s fingers traced another page, ink flowing beneath his touch. “Then your first task becomes more... interesting. Complete your initial binding before joining the sect—if you wish to keep your little companion.”

The manual pressed cold against Lin Yue’s palms. Her eyes fixed on the cover text: ‘The Sable Script Manual: Lin Yue.’

Ice spread through her veins. She hadn’t given her name. Neither had Shadow. The bastard claimed he didn’t read minds, yet—

“Return once you’ve opened your meridians.” Master Yan’s words cut through her thoughts. “If you fail to do so within ten days, kill yourself. Shadow will guide you to the correct location once you are ready. Tell no one of our arrangement.”

The red mark burned deeper into Lin Yue’s flesh. She clutched the manual tighter, muscles tensing against the searing pain. The whole ‘kill yourself’ bit was distressingly clear.

She hated this. Was that the point?

“Your name?” The question slipped through gritted teeth.

His lips curved upward. “Master Yan Ruixian. Consider this small reward for your... resilience.”

“Boss!” Shadow spun in frantic circles. “You’re leaving me with her? What about finding more souls? I don’t like her!”

“You will guide her for now,” Ruixian ordered.

“But why? Boss, why? I am so good at gathering for you!” Shadow said.

“Because she despises you.” Master Yan turned away.

Shadow deflated like a punctured waterskin, anxiety radiating from his smoke wisps.

Lin Yue backed toward the door, thoughts spinning between the manual, her new “master,” and Xue waiting at the inn.

At the door, she turned and fled. The manual pressed cold against her chest as she stalked through the market’s twisted paths. One thing Shadow had got right—she needed power. Real power.

The red ink’s burn dulled to a slowly fading throb against her skin. Each pulse sparked another idea for revenge. She’d start with Shadow. The parasite needed souls? She’d find a way to starve him until he begged.

The cultivation manual held secrets. Knowledge. Power. Yan Ruixian thought he could control her with pain? With threats? She allowed a bitter laugh to escape. Sheng Bo had thought the same thing. Now his corpse rotted in an alley, stripped of everything valuable.

Everyone who hurt her ended up dead. Some took longer than others. Some required patience. Poison in a drink. A whispered rumor to the right ears. A well-placed bounty. But they all died.

This “master” stood taller than street thugs and gang leaders. But height just meant further to fall.

Lin Yue traced the turns she had memorized toward the market’s exit. If Yan spoke truth about agency, about choice... then she chose death. His death.

When she grew strong enough, she’d strike. And then, she’d be the one making demands.

If something doesn’t kill me first.