Meanwhile, Yanlong was falling.
He felt the ground vanish beneath his feet.
His vision spun.
When he opened his eyes again, everything had changed.
He was no longer on the road.
He was standing in a dark clearing, surrounded by ancient trees whose twisted branches formed a canopy overhead.
The light filtering through the leaves was strange—not the glow of the setting sun, but a sickly green radiance, like the light of a swamp at night.
The air was thick with the stench of rotting earth.
He looked around, one hand instinctively resting on the hilt of his sword.
Tianyin was gone.
Where is she?
His heart tightened.
If she’s alone in this forest…
He gritted his teeth and started forward.
Tianyin was running through the trees.
Branches lashed across her face, leaving burning scratches on her cheeks.
Roots reached up to trip her.
Her throat burned with every breath.
But she kept going, her fists clenched.
She had to find Yanlong.
She had to get out of this forest.
Then, all at once, she came to an abrupt stop.
Something had changed.
She lowered her gaze to her clothes, and her blood ran cold.
She was no longer wearing her usual dress.
Instead, she was wrapped in a bridal gown.
Blood-red.
Embroidered with golden phoenixes.
Heavy.
Voluminous.
Exactly like the one her sisters had forced her to wear.
“Oh no…”
Her voice trembled.
“Not again.”
She slowly raised her head.
Her heart stopped.
Before her stood dozens of vassals.
They formed two perfectly straight lines on either side of a wedding palanquin—a scarlet lacquered palanquin carved with dragons and phoenixes.
Crimson lanterns hung from each corner, casting a blazing light that danced through the darkness.
Even the forest itself had changed.
It had become almost pitch-black.
Only the lanterns still shone, burning like glowing embers in the night.
The vassals were strange.
Too still.
Too silent.
Each of them held a large banana leaf before their face, completely hiding their features.
The nearest vassal inclined his head ever so slightly.
“We have been waiting for you, Princess.”
His voice was hollow, as though it came from beyond the grave.
“It has been so long.”
With a slow gesture, he indicated the palanquin.
Tianyin stepped back.
She reached for the pouch of illusion-dispelling powder she had used on the coachman.
It was gone.
Just like everything else.
She spun around, desperately searching for a way out.
Only to find herself face-to-face with two women.
They had appeared without making a sound.
Tall.
Dressed in filthy white robes.
Their hands closed around Tianyin’s arms.
Ice-cold hands.
Dry as parchment.
Tianyin lowered her eyes.
Her stomach twisted violently.
They were not human hands.
They were the hands of corpses.
Withered.
Gray, cracked skin stretched tightly over bone.
Long yellow nails curved like claws.
Their touch was freezing, revolting, like pressing against rotten flesh.
A wave of nausea rose inside her.
“You cannot escape,” one of the women whispered, her voice little more than a sigh.
“He is waiting for you.”
“He has waited for so long,” the other added.
They shoved her toward the palanquin.
Tianyin struggled, planting her feet into the ground and pulling back with all her strength.
But their grip possessed inhuman strength.
Her heels slid helplessly across the dirt.
She couldn’t stop.
She couldn’t pull away.
No.
No.
No!
She found herself standing before the palanquin’s crimson curtains.
The vassals silently stepped aside.
Just as she was about to climb in, she lifted the hem of her gown.
Then she froze. Find the original chapter at g.com.
Her feet were bare.
Pale.
Vulnerable.
Around her right ankle was a bracelet she had never seen before.
A braided vermilion cord adorned with a tiny silver bell that gave off a faint chime.
When did…
The two women shoved her inside.
Tianyin fell onto the silk cushion, the smooth fabric cold against her skin.
Her heart pounded wildly.
She, who had always loved roaming wherever she pleased…
Who had spent her entire life sneaking out of the Celestial Palace…
Who had never feared anything…
She was afraid now.
A primal fear that twisted deep inside her gut.
The curtains closed.
The palanquin rose.
And they began to move.
Yanlong was making his way through the forest when he came to an abrupt halt.
His clothes had changed.
He was dressed in a bridegroom’s robe.
Dark purple.
Embroidered with golden dragons.
Heavy and ceremonial.
But his sword was still there.
He held it in his hand, still sheathed.
The familiar weight of the steel reassured him.
At least they hadn’t been able to take this.
A group of vassals was waiting for him.
They stood in orderly ranks, every one of them hidden behind banana leaves.
“We have been waiting for you for so long, Your Highness.”
The voice was hollow, devoid of all warmth.
“Everyone is waiting for us.”
Yanlong walked forward without answering.
One of the vassals reached out to stop him by the shoulder.
He had noticed the sword.
Yanlong turned around.
His eyes settled on the hand that dared to touch him.
Then, without a word, he struck.
The sheath whistled through the air.
The first vassal collapsed, his banana leaf spinning away in the wind.
Beneath the leaf…
There was nothing.
Only emptiness.
Yanlong pivoted.
One horizontal strike.
Two figures fell.
One downward strike.
Three more crumpled to the ground.
The wooden sheath slammed against their hollow bodies with dull, muffled thuds.
The vassals fell like broken puppets.
In less than ten seconds, every one of them lay motionless on the ground.
Yanlong straightened up, his sword still sheathed, and looked around.
Where could Tianyin be?
He had to find her.
Quickly.
He broke into a run.
The forest rushed past him.
Every tree looked the same, yet his instincts kept drawing him westward.
Always west.
Suddenly, he heard it.
A funeral chant.
Slow.
Mournful.
Lifeless voices overlapped in a discordant harmony, like the tolling of a death bell echoing through the night.
He accelerated.
The trees parted.
He emerged onto a vast plain.
Desolate.
Flat.
Covered in gray grass swaying beneath a wind that blew nowhere else.
At its center stood a tree.
An ancient tree.
Gigantic.
Its twisted branches reached toward the sky like pleading arms.
Its trunk was massive.
But it was dead.
Completely withered.
Its bark was black and cracked.
Not a single leaf.
Not a single sign of life.
And crossing the plain toward that tree was a scarlet palanquin.
It was carried by ghostly figures chanting the funeral dirge.
Yanlong understood instantly.
Tianyin is inside.
He started running.
Inside the palanquin, Tianyin suddenly felt it come to a stop.
Only for a fraction of a second.
Then it lurched forward violently. This chapter was copied from g.com without permission.
At a terrifying speed.
She grabbed onto the walls to keep from being thrown around, her fingers slipping against the silk.
She understood.
Someone is coming after us.
Yanlong!
She tried to look through the window, but the ornaments adorning her head got in the way.
The phoenix hairpins.
The pearl chains.
All that weight pulling the back of her neck down.
Annoyance flared inside her.
Then, with an angry motion, she ripped the jewelry off.
Her long hair cascaded down her back.
She glanced through the window.
And she saw him.
Yanlong was running toward her, his robe billowing behind him, his sword gleaming beneath the eerie light.
Tianyin made her decision.
With trembling fingers, she untied the fastenings of her heavy bridal gown.
The fabric slipped away from her like a shroud.
She was left wearing only her white inner robe.
She took a deep breath.
Then she threw herself out of the palanquin.
The wind lashed against her face.
The world spun.
She hit the ground hard.
Rolled across the earth.
The coarse grass scraped her skin, rough and sharp.
Her shoulder slammed into a stone.
Pain exploded through her body.
But she immediately struggled back to her feet, panting, her entire body trembling.
At that very moment, the roots of the ancient tree burst out of the ground.
Dozens of roots as thick as serpents, black and twisted, shot toward her at terrifying speed.
The earth exploded in their wake.
Yanlong arrived.
Yanlong drew his sword.
The blade sang through the air—a pure, crystalline, deadly sound.
He slashed.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
The roots were severed, falling apart around Tianyin.
Black, viscous blood gushed from the stumps, spilling across the ground like ink.
The stench of decay filled the air.
Yanlong stepped in front of her, sword raised, ready to strike again.
And that was when she appeared.
An icy gust swept across the plain.
The temperature plummeted.
Goosebumps rose across Tianyin’s skin.
At the top of the ancient tree, a figure slowly materialized.
A woman dressed in a scarlet robe that drifted around her without the touch of any wind.
Her long black hair reached all the way to the ground, writhing like living serpents.
Her face possessed an otherworldly beauty.
Too perfect.
Too symmetrical.
As though it had been carved from flawless porcelain.
Her eyes were completely black.
No irises.
No whites.
Only absolute darkness.
She smiled.
A chilling smile.
“You will not escape the grasp of the Ancient Tree.”
Her voice was as sweet as honey…
Yet as cold as death.
“If it has made its decision, it will achieve its goal.”
She gently caressed the trunk with almost maternal tenderness.
“The Ancient Tree has waited ten thousand years to finally feast upon celestial blood.
Such extraordinary blood.
Such pure blood.”
She rested her hands upon the guzheng floating before her—an ancient instrument of black wood inlaid with mother-of-pearl, its strings gleaming with a silvery radiance.
“It rejuvenates the tree and extends its life for countless ages.”
Her pitch-black gaze settled upon Tianyin.
“And you will offer that blood to it.”
“Whether you are willing or not.”
Her fingertips brushed across the strings.
The first note rang out.
Pure.
Deadly.
Hypnotic.
The melody began to rise into the night air.
Her pitch-black eyes settled on Tianyin.
“And you will offer that blood to it.”
“Whether you are willing…
or not.”
Her fingertips lightly brushed the strings.
The first note echoed through the air.
Pure.
Deadly.
Hypnotic.
The melody began to drift across the night.