Chapter 64

Chapter 64: Title

Before turning ten, Ye Qingshang hadn’t lived in Frostbite Sect. Back then, she hadn’t even stepped onto the path of cultivation. She’d only heard cultivators possessed great power—casually casting spells or conjuring objects, truly remarkable.

She’d also heard cultivators drank floral dew instead of earthly fare, slept in wilderness instead of ordinary inns. To her, “cultivator” felt distant, unreachable. She held no such hopes, being just an ordinary girl from Fengyuan’s borderlands—utterly unremarkable.

Life there lacked city luxuries. Though not harsh, resources were scarce, demanding thrift in all things. Thankfully, she had a capable mother and a devoted father who cherished each other deeply.

Nurtured thus, she lived contentedly. At least until ten, nothing troubled her. She’d thought this life would last till old age, or at least until her coming-of-age ceremony. Little did she know misfortune had already coiled tight, striking fully the year she turned ten.

Then, she was studying under Tutor Wan.

This tutor, surnamed Wan, was rumored an imperial scholar who’d forfeited a city post to settle in this remote borderland.

Fengyuan’s edges were isolated, lacking proper schools. The city academy lay too far, so poorer families delayed schooling their children, often missing their best learning years.

This problem lingered until Tutor Wan arrived. Caring deeply, he vowed to teach in any home that asked—rain or shine, without pay.

It seemed ideal. Ye Qingshang’s parents hired him hoping to tame her wildness: to stop their pretty-faced daughter climbing trees and hunting snakes like some feral boy.

But ingrained habits die hard. On her first lesson, parental warnings kept her obedient. By day two, she barely lasted till day three before bolting while the tutor sipped tea.

“Ye Qingshang!!” Her parents’ furious shouts faded behind her as she vaulted a railing with agile grace.

“Hey, Qingshang!” called a childhood friend beside her. Though custom frowned on boy-girl closeness, Ye Qingshang ignored such rules—common in their borderland’s open culture. “Running off like this? Aren’t you scared of a beating?”

“Scared? They won’t eat me. I know my limits.” She scratched her head, struggling to recall. “What did Tutor say… ‘Day after day after day, how many days can there be’?”

The boy snorted. “It’s ‘day after day.’ He taught you twice already—where’d all that learning go? They say ignorance is a woman’s virtue, but your virtue…” He clicked his tongue like an adult. “…is unmatched.”

“You!” She feigned a strike, making him dodge. His pompous words grated her ears like tedious chants.

“Enough! Heard there’s fun stuff near the woods. Wanna go?”

She narrowed her eyes. “What fun stuff? Where’d you hear that?”

He lowered her hand, whispering mysteriously, “Last night, someone passed by and heard strange noises. Said it might be city-released snakes slithering here.”

“Really?” Her eyes sparkled. Unlike other children, she’d always been stronger and tougher—fascinated by oddities, especially… snake hunting.

Roasted snake meat sounded…

“Then why wait? Let’s go!”

“Just us two? Shouldn’t we get hel—” His words cut off as she dragged him away. Three helpers couldn’t match Ye Qingshang alone.

They jogged a long while before reaching the woods. Two kids chasing rumors of snakes seemed absurd—so no one noticed or stopped them.

Only after wandering deep into the forest, finding a cave entrance, did unease strike. They’d… gone too far. This was the woods’ outermost edge.

The boy gulped. “Qingshang… keep going? No snakes anywhere. This cave…” He shuddered dramatically. “…looks pitch-black. Maybe quit? Don’t risk going in?”

But Ye Qingshang hadn’t heard any of it; returning would invite a scolding regardless. She decided to play her fill. "Why be afraid? I’m here! Let’s go in!"

Children’s enthusiasm burns fierce and long. As dusk deepened, they lost all sense of time within the cave, straying deeper from their original purpose.

The farther they ventured, the colder and damper it grew—perfect for snakes. Finding none here meant failure elsewhere, rendering the trip pointless. This was an outcome Ye Qingshang refused to accept.

The boy searched more desperately. His eyes caught a soft shape clinging to the wall, but darkness obscured details. Boldly, he poked it. The thing shrank back.

Thrilled, he cried, "Qingshang! There’s something here!"

"What?" Ye Qingshang leaned closer. Before she could see clearly, a violent tremor threw them down. A rasping voice echoed from the cave’s end as the boy screamed: "Persistence pays off! To think I’d find that person’s aura here. Fascinating!"

The voice hung hollow in the cavern, distant as a soul-hungry specter. A mere ten-year-old had never faced such terror. Even fearless Ye Qingshang trembled, her choked sobs grating on the entity.

A translucent, shapeless shadow materialized mid-air. It halted before them and roared, "Quiet! Defiant brats seeking death?!"

Then it chuckled, shifting to an old man’s tone. "Now, child—why carry that person’s scent? You met him recently. Didn’t you?"

The shadow loomed terrifyingly close. Ye Qingshang stammered through tears, "Th-that person… Who? I d-don’t know…"

"Don’t know?" The voice feigned disappointment, circling them. Before Ye Qingshang, a spectral hand coalesced from the gloom.

Wild laughter filled the cave as the hand seized the boy’s throat. "Hah! ‘Don’t know’? Then he dies for your ignorance!"

The boy choked, face purpling. He managed a weak gesture toward the cave entrance—a clear message: *Qingshang, run!*

Noticing this, the shadow tightened its grip. The boy’s hand fell limp. "Memory fails you? Then choose: run back where you came from. The farther you flee, the longer he lives."

Ye Qingshang muffled her whimpers, frozen.

"Won’t run?" The shadow snapped the boy’s wrist.

A guttural moan escaped him as his hand hung broken. Ye Qingshang stared, petrified—what next?

Terrified but compelled, she mustered every ounce of strength and sprinted toward the village.

Night stretched endlessly.

The dark path seemed unending as Ye Qingshang ran and ran…

She didn’t understand the shadow’s goal—only that running might save her friend. She wouldn’t look back. Wouldn’t listen.

Tiny sparks ignited under her feet, flaring on leaves and deadwood before vanishing. Had she glanced back, she’d have seen not just the shadow trailing her, but thousands of creeping vines.

Only when disaster unfolded did she realize: the shadow sought Tutor Wan, whom she’d met that day. That "Tutor" was no scholar—merely a cultivator hiding from monsters after betraying his sect!

Her encounter had unlocked the village’s doom.

Her flight sealed their fate.

No escape.

That night, wails filled the village. Homes crumbled. Vines impaled familiar faces. Screams pierced her ears; blood painted everything a terrifying red.

She tried fleeing home, but splintered railings blocked her path. Falling backward, she scrambled until her back hit a wall.

Cowering in a corner, she smothered sobs, breathing shallowly. *Hide, and no one finds you,* her mother had said.

*Mother…*

Tears fell. She knew her wrongs now—no more mischief, only obedience. She’d study, become proper, well-mannered… She’d do anything…

But could Mother take her away? She wanted to go home…

She was truly terrified…

"Mother…"

Heaven seemed to have heard her plea; her parents, fearing for her safety, braved the danger and came searching nearby.