“Enough of this rain,” Su Yao said. Her voice cut through the downpour with finality. “And enough of this crowded, tedious place. We're going somewhere else.”
Zhang Wei’s eyes narrowed. His body was still tense from the shock of exposure. “Where? Why?”
A slow, predatory smile touched Su Yao’s lips. “Somewhere empty where we won't be disturbed.” She took a step closer. The puddles at her feet steamed faintly. “Why? For a rematch, of course.”
She gestured to the glowing seal on his neck. “I placed that on you for a reason. To force you to grow and become a worthy opponent. You've been hiding, playing a role, suppressing your true strength. That ends now.”
She looked him up and down. Her gaze was assessing. “You claim your feelings are real. Fine. Then prove it. Prove you're more than just a spy, more than a stabilizer. Show me the strength you've been hiding all these years. Let’s finish what we started in that alley.”
Zhang Wei stared at her. The rain washed the last vestiges of his old identity away. The conflict in his eyes hardened into resolve. He gave a single, sharp nod.
“Alright,” he said. His voice was low and steady. “Let’s finish this.”
“Good,” Su Yao purred.
The air shimmered. The world fell silent. Sounds of the park, the children, and the rain disappeared together. They now stood on a barren, rocky plain under a bruised twilight sky. Instantaneous teleportation.
Zhang Wei stumbled for only a second. His assassin’s instincts took over. The stuffed panda was gone. In his hand now was a wickedly curved blade of condensed spiritual energy. Its edge hummed with lethal intent.
“Now,” Su Yao said. She stood perfectly still twenty paces away, her arms at her sides. “Show me. The truth this time. I want to see the weapon they sent for me.”
Zhang Wei’s face was a mask of grim determination. The boy she knew was gone. “You asked for this.”
He moved without a sound. In an instant, he stood before her. The energy blade cut a silent arc toward her throat. It was infinitely faster than anything he had shown in the alley.
Su Yao stayed still, then shifted her weight backward. The tip of the blade missed her skin by a millimeter. The displaced air hissed.
“Better,” she acknowledged. “But you are still holding back. You are afraid of actually hitting me.”
“I don’t want to kill you!” he snarled. He moved through a chain of attacks, thrusting toward her heart, sweeping low at her knees, then slashing upward in a sudden strike aimed for her eyes. Each move was flawless, a masterpiece of assassination arts designed to kill immortals.
Each time, Su Yao evaded with effortless, minimal movements. Her feet never left their spot on the rock. “I asked you to hurt me,” she corrected. Her voice was calm. “There is a difference. Stop trying to end the fight. Start trying to make me feel it.”
Frustration erupted from him. A wave of pure spiritual force shot from his free hand. It was visible as a distortion in the air. He aimed it at the ground beneath her feet.
The rock exploded upwards.
This time, Su Yao moved. She spun, avoiding the worst of the blast. But she let a shard of razor sharp stone graze her arm. A thin line of crimson welled up.
She looked at the blood, then at him. “Finally. A start.”
Enraged and empowered by her taunt, Zhang Wei unleashed his true power. The seal on his neck blazed. Dozens of replicas of his energy blade materialized in the air around him. They formed a constellation of deadly points.
“Pierce the Heavenly Firmament!” he roared.
The blades shot towards her from every direction. It was a storm of annihilation that left no room to dodge.
Su Yao stayed in place and lifted one hand. “Heavenly Law. Pacifying Mudra.”
The golden, intricate diagram from the movie appeared before her palm. The storm of blades broke apart on contact. Each impact sent visible shockwaves across the plain.
But one blade, the real one in Zhang Wei’s hand, pierced through the golden light. He poured everything into the thrust, driven by conflict, duty, and tangled emotion.
The golden diagram flickered before breaking apart. In the same instant, the energy blade surged forward and drove into her shoulder.
His blow landed cleanly, followed by a wet crack of bone and a spray of blood that carried an otherworldly sheen. Su Yao was thrown backwards. She skidded across the rough stone before coming to a stop on one knee.
Silence fell.
She slowly looked up at the wound and watched the spiritual energy sizzle against her flesh. A slow, genuine smile spread across her face. It was wide and terrifying.
“Yes,” she breathed. Her voice was full of a dark satisfaction. She pushed herself to her feet. The grievous wound was already knitting itself shut. The flesh re-knit at a visible, impossible rate. “That. That is what I wanted to see.”
She looked at Zhang Wei. He stood panting, his weapon still held ready. His eyes were wide with a horror that warred with triumph.
“You can hurt me,” she said. She took a step forward. Then another. Her aura began to boil around her. The very sky darkened in response. “Now, let us see if you can make it last.”
Zhang Wei watched her stand. He saw the dark joy in her eyes, the smile that was both a reward and a challenge.
In that moment, he finally understood.
For her, the battle was a dialogue of power. It was an ancient form of courtship wrapped in violence.
And the look on her face, the genuine, unfeigned pleasure, it ignited something in him he had suppressed for years. He wanted to see it again and be the one who put it there.
“Then I won't stop,” he said. His voice was low and resolute. The energy blade in his hand flared brighter, burning with a new, desperate intensity. It was meant to perform and please.
He vanished in a short-range teleport and reappeared behind her. His blade was already in motion. The strike aimed for her leg, a cut meant to cripple and slow her down.
Su Yao twisted, but not fast enough. The edge bit deep. She let out a sharp gasp that was closer to a laugh. “Good!”
He was already gone, reappearing above her. He drove a fist surrounded by crackling energy down toward her spine. She met it with an open palm. The impact hit like a thunderclap, splitting the earth beneath their feet.
Shockwaves rippled outward, hurling him through the air. He twisted mid-flight and came down in a crouch. Boots skidded across the fractured ground as he charged on foot, weaving a pattern of strikes so fast his form blurred at the edges.
He landed a kick to her ribs that sent her skidding back. A needle of condensed spiritual energy, fired from his fingertips, pierced her other shoulder. He created a localized gravity field that slammed her into the ground, creating a small crater.
Whenever he landed a blow, he looked for her face. Each time, he saw that same terrifying, brilliant smile. Her laughter echoed across the barren plain, a sound of pure, unadulterated delight.
This was the closest he had ever been to her. The closest he would ever be. He launched himself at her again. His blade was a silver arc in the darkening sky. “Is this what you want?” he shouted. His voice was raw.
Su Yao met his charge. Her own hands were now wreathed in destructive light. “More,” she commanded. Her eyes were blazing. “Give me more.”
The air shattered.
A lance of corrupted spiritual energy, black and streaked with vile green, shot from the darkened sky. It aimed for the space between them. It was a calculated strike to exploit what any observer would see: two combatants, bloodied, panting, their auras flickering from the exertion of their brutal dance.
A third party had been watching. And they had chosen their moment.
The lance exploded on impact, unleashing a wave of necrotic energy designed to rot flesh and devour spirit.
Zhang Wei reacted instantly. He abandoned his offensive stance. His blade dissolved into a shimmering shield of pure energy that he slammed into the ground before himself and Su Yao. The necrotic wave crashed against it, sizzling and spitting.
Su Yao stood, her chest rising and falling steadily. The wounds on her shoulder and leg were already sealed into faint silver scars. Her head tilted. Her expression shifted from dark joy to cold, analytical fury.
From the shadows of a jagged rock spire, a figure emerged. It was clad in tattered, ancient robes. Its face was hidden within a deep hood. Its voice was a dry rasp, like stones grinding together.
“The mighty Nine-Tails and the government’s hound. You exhaust yourselves on each other. How convenient. It saves me the trouble of fighting you one at a time.”
The figure raised a clawed hand. Dozens of similar black-green lances materialized in the air around it. “Your energy will be a fine addition to my master’s collection.”
Zhang Wei glanced at Su Yao. His body was tense. “A scavenger.”
Su Yao’s lips curled. “An interruption.”
She kept her gaze elsewhere. Still, her next words were meant for Zhang Wei. “The dance isn’t over. It’s a duet now.”
Understanding passed between them in that glance. The intimate, violent understanding forged in their clash.
The robed figure laughed. “Foolish words. You have nothing left!” It thrust its hands forward. The swarm of necrotic lances shot toward them.
Su Yao remained motionless. One finger rose, aimed at the incoming projectiles. “You misunderstand.”
Zhang Wei dropped the shield. His body flickered into motion. He moved parallel to the lances, matching their deadly trajectory.
“You see exhaustion,” Su Yao said. Her voice was flat. “We see a warm up.”
The lances were a breath away from impaling them. Then, they veered. Su Yao’s pointed finger became a conductor’s baton. A subtle, immense gravitational pull twisted the trajectory of every single lance, bending them into a spiraling stream that now followed Zhang Wei.
Who was now running directly at the robed figure.
The figure’s confidence vanished, replaced by shock. It tried to recall its attack, to redirect, but it was too late. Zhang Wei, a blur of motion, slid under the stream of corrupted energy, letting it slam into the ground where he had just been.
He appeared in front of the figure. His energy blade rematerialized in his hand.
The figure raised a desperate ward. “Impossible! You were spent!”
“You thought wrong,” Zhang Wei said. His blade, now burning with a pure, sharp light he hadn’t shown even against Su Yao, cut through the ward like it was paper. It sliced horizontally, clean through the figure’s midsection.
The figure froze. Its hooded head looked down at the glowing line across its robe. Then, its top half slid from its bottom half, dissolving into motes of black dust before it hit the ground.
The silence returned, deeper than before.
Zhang Wei stood over the dissipating remains. His blade faded. He turned back to look at Su Yao.
She was still standing in the same spot. Her finger was now lowered. She gave him a slow, approving nod. It was a greater reward than any praise from his superiors.
“The interruption has been dealt with,” he said.
“Who was that?” Su Yao asked. Her voice was calm but had an edge of sharp curiosity. She kept her eyes on the dissipating motes of dust.
Zhang Wei kept his stance. His senses were stretched to their limit. “An Agent of Yamato,” he replied. His voice was tight. “A rogue spiritual faction the government has been tracking. They are scavengers. Parasites. They leech power from major spiritual events and conflicts.”
He glanced at her. “They must have been drawn by the energy of our fight.”
A low, guttural chuckle echoed from the cloud of black dust. The motes stopped dissipating. They swirled, drawing together like iron filings to a magnet.
“Of course,” Su Yao said. Her lips twisted in a smirk. “It is never that easy.”
The dust coalesced, reforming the robed figure in the blink of an eye. It stood whole once more, but its aura was different now. It was darker, more volatile, and laced with a mocking fury.
“You cut well, hound,” the Yamato agent rasped. Its hood tilted. “But we aren’t so easily put down. We are the accumulation of grudges! We are eternal!”
It clapped its hands together. The ground beneath them turned black and viscous, like tar. Shadowy, skeletal hands erupted from the mire, grasping for their ankles with cold, draining intent.
Zhang Wei leapt upward, but a hand caught his boot. A numbing chill shot up his leg. He slashed down with his blade, severing the spectral limb.
Su Yao simply stood there, letting the hands claw at her. They withered and turned to ash upon contact with her skin. “Eternal?” she mused. “You are a persistent stain. There is a difference.”
The Yamato agent hissed in rage. It flung its arms wide. The very shadows of the rocky spires detached themselves, stretching and morphing into a swarm of winged, shrieking familiars made of pure darkness. They blotted out the bruised sky, diving toward the duo in a screeching avalanche.
“The dance continues,” Su Yao said. Her eyes locked with Zhang Wei's. “You take the sky. I will handle the earth.”
Zhang Wei gave a sharp nod. He kicked off from a rock, shooting upward to meet the swarm. His blade became a whirlwind of light. Each swing cleaved through multiple familiars, which dissolved into puffs of shadow.
Below, Su Yao finally moved. She took a single step forward, then stamped her foot.
A wave of pure golden force erupted from the point of impact. It radiated outwards in a perfect circle, washing over the blackened, hand-infested ground. The tar-like substance instantly hardened and cracked. Every single grasping hand shattered into nothingness.
The Yamato agent staggered back as the wave hit it. Its robes flapped violently.
“You can’t purify true malice!” it screamed, rallying its power. It began to weave a more complex spell. Its claws drew intricate, bloody symbols in the air.
Su Yao was already in front of it. She hadn’t run. She had simply arrived.
“Watch me,” she said.
Her hand shot out to grasp the bloody symbol it was drawing. The complex spell of malice and corruption sizzled in her palm. Instead of rejecting it, she closed her fist. Light flared between her fingers. When she opened her hand, the bloody symbol was gone, replaced by a single, pristine white lotus flower that floated gently in the air.
The Yamato agent stared. Its incomprehension was absolute.
Su Yao flicked the lotus flower towards it. “A trade.”
The lotus touched the agent’s chest. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, a light so pure and searing it hurt to look at erupted from within the creature’s robes. The agent let out a silent, agonized scream as its form began to unravel from the inside out, consumed by a purity it could not comprehend or withstand.
Above, Zhang Wei cut down the last of the shrieking familiars and landed softly beside her.
Su Yao turned to him. The heat of battle was still in her eyes. “Your government’s files,” she said. “You will give them to me.”
“I can’t give you access to those files,” Zhang Wei said. His voice was firm despite the lingering adrenaline. “They are classified. For our eyes only.”
Su Yao’s gaze was unwavering. “What if I were to start working for you?” she asked. Her tone was deceptively light. “What if I decided this ‘government’ of yours could use a consultant on matters they clearly misunderstand?”
Zhang Wei stared at her. The implications were staggering. “You would, join us? Then you would be one of us. Subject to the same rules. The same chain of command.”
“A consultant,” Su Yao corrected smoothly. “Not a subordinate. I advise. You listen. And in return, I get a look at the toys in your sandbox.”
The decision was far above his pay grade, but the potential value was incalculable. Zhang Wei made a choice. Reaching into a hidden compartment on his belt, he produced a small, flat data slate. He tapped a series of commands. A holographic display flickered to life between them.
“These are the unredacted files on the Yamato faction,” he said. His voice was low. “Their known operations, suspected cells…”
Su Yao’s eyes, sharp and ancient, scanned the flowing text and images at an impossible speed. She ignored the lists of atrocities and power hierarchies. Her focus zeroed in on a single, seemingly minor footnote in the financial tracing section. A shell corporation. A name.
Her finger stabbed through the hologram, pointing at it. “There.”
Zhang Wei leaned closer. The shell corporation was one of dozens used to funnel untraceable funds. Its name was “Azure Dragon Holdings.”
The name was a ghost from another investigation. Azure Dragon Orphanage.
“The orphanage,” Zhang Wei breathed. The connection slammed into place with horrifying clarity. “Luo family agents screened children for spiritual talent, and the Yamato funding transformed the operation into a farm, a source for whatever they were building.”
The pieces aligned. The Luo family thought they were running a clever operation. They never knew they were merely managing a farm for a far more sinister and ancient predator.
Su Yao looked from the hologram to Zhang Wei’s horrified face. A slow, cold smile touched her lips.
“It seems,” she said, “our interests have just officially aligned.”