Yang Zhai sat quietly, chewing slowly on a piece of roasted meat that he had cooked with his own hands. In front of him, flames crackled and swayed, a fire burning with steady brilliance—a campfire to be exact, its glow flickering against the night, painting shadows across his composed face. Faded sounds of crickets came from afar, giving rise to a fleeting melody.
"Master, you were right. There's a mortal village just ahead, around four miles from here." Yah Yan came flying through the darkness of the night sky, his body cutting through the air before landing firmly on Yang Zhai's right shoulder, coiling himself neatly as he spoke with certainty.
As I suspected. There truly is a mortal village here. An island stranded in the middle of this endless ocean, forgotten by the world.
While the thought was still lingering in his mind, another presence descended. Ina Ya drifted silently from above and alighted on his left shoulder, her movements quiet yet purposeful.
"Master, I have already checked the surroundings. There is no one nearby. However… I noticed something strange." Her tone was low, carrying a shadow of unease.
"Oh? And what would that be?"
"Master, I sensed many kas spread across this entire island. In addition, I detected two ires, and even one that seemed like an amalgamation."
"Kas, ires… and even an amalgamation? Don't tell me it's…"
"Yes, master. I believe it is a formation, one stretching across the whole island, covering everything within it."
Yang Zhai grew silent. He did not speak, his eyes narrowing slightly as his thoughts deepened.
"Tell me, what do you make of this formation? Does it have the power to harm me, or cause any threat to me here?"
"Hmm… from what I observed, I don't believe it holds such power. Still, you should remain cautious. Yet there is something else—something about it that feels strange."
Yang Zhai waited calmly, not interrupting, giving Ina Ya the silence and time she needed to gather her thoughts.
"The pattern of the formation…it is peculiar. It doesn't resemble any orthodox formation I've studied. Something…" Her voice faltered, the words unfinished, left hanging in the air.
Yang Zhai's gaze, calm yet piercing, turned toward her.
"Why did you stop? Speak clearly. Tell me what it is you wish to say. Or is it that you do not want to?"
"It's not that, master," she answered softly, her expression clouded with uncertainty. "It's just… even though the pattern feels familiar, I cannot remember from where. No matter how much I think, I cannot recall it."
Yang Zhai looked at her, then finally spoke, his tone unshaken.
"Very well. You two may return."
Formation… but for what purpose would one exist here? And on an island adrift in the middle of the ocean, an island even I have never heard of. I must be vigilant, careful while I remain here. I cannot depend on Ina Ya's words.
I cannot leave yet. Who knows when the next island will appear before me in this vast, merciless sea? I need to secure enough food before I depart again. For now, I will go to the village.
The thought had barely settled when his eyes caught movement across the fire. The boy moved, shifting faintly before his eyelids slowly lifted. His gaze wandered, disoriented, until it finally landed upon Yang Zhai.
"So, you're awake," Yang Zhai said, his tone calm and measured.
"Wh… who are you?" the boy asked, his voice trembling with fear.
"Forget about who I am. Instead, tell me—what happened to you, and why are you alone in the depths of this forest?" Yang Zhai's words came forth with deliberate weight.
The boy's lips trembled, his eyes wavering, but fear sealed his voice shut.
"How about this," Yang Zhai continued, his voice steady yet firm, "tell me what happened to you, and I might consider helping you. After all, it was I who healed your wound."
"Uh… really?" The boy quickly pulled his robe aside, hands shaking as he looked down. His eyes widened when he saw his torso bare of any wound, as though nothing had ever happened.
"Yes. You see? Now speak. Tell me everything. I might be able to help you. Besides—" Yang Zhai's lips curved ever so slightly, "—I am a good man. I even healed you, didn't I?"
The boy hesitated, his eyes flickering with a mix of fear and faint hope. "I've never seen you around here before. Did you come from across the ocean? My sister always says there's a beautiful world beyond it, filled with powerful people. Will you… will you take me and my sister with you when you leave?"
He is merely a child. Though frightened, he cannot restrain himself, and already let his heart spill whatever it desired, speaking his wishes. Best to strike while the iron is hot.
"So then, tell me—how did you lose your lung? Perhaps I can help you with that."
"My lung…? Do you mean the wound on my body?" The boy's voice wavered as he spoke. "My father said he was going to help me become a cultivator, so he took me with him. But I don't remember what happened. I suddenly blacked out, and when I woke, the wound was there. My sister told me… that if I ever found such a wound on myself, I must run away. So, I ran the moment I saw it."
Not only a missing lung… there is also a faint cut on his abdomen, right where the right kidney lies. Whoever carved him open was preparing to take more. Something must have interrupted them, forcing them to stop midway.
For now, I should head to the village. Collecting food there would be quicker, and at the same time, I could learn what is unfolding on this island and about that formation.
"Kid, take me to the village. Who knows? I might be able to help you." Yang Zhai rose, his words spoken with calm certainty.
The boy stiffened, his face paling as he shook his head violently. "No! I cannot! The villagers hate me. And my sister forbade me from going there ever again." Fear overtook his face, his eyes wide, sweat beginning to roll down his skin.
Such an intense reaction, simply from asking him to guide me to the village? Clearly, there is more behind this. My excuse of using him as a shield inside the village will not work. I need to change my direction.
"Very well then. Instead, take me to your house. I will protect you along the way—after all, the forest is dangerous." Yang Zhai spoke with a calm smile, his tone carrying subtle reassurance.
"About that… could I not? My sister gets angry whenever I do that…" The boy lowered his head, hesitating.
"That won't do. What if something happens to you here? Would you allow your sister to weep for you? Can you bear her tears?"
The boy trembled at the words. "…No. I cannot."
"Then lead the way."
The boy lingered in hesitation for a moment longer, but in the end, he stood up and began to walk, guiding the way forward.
"By the way," Yang Zhai asked with feigned casualness, "who else lives with you and your sister?"
"Just us. My father, my sister, and me. No one else."
"I see. And tell me, are they cultivators as well?"
"Yes. Both of them are."
"What ranks do they hold?"
"My sister is at rank five, and my father… at rank four," the boy replied truthfully, without the slightest hesitation.
Rank five… and rank four? If they are truly natives, then they might have acquired some sort of inheritance.
"Have you always lived here?"
"Yes. My father and my sister were both born here. None of us have ever crossed the ocean. The villagers once loved us, but everything changed when that cultivator appeared. After he came, they began to hate us. We had no choice but to leave the village and live on the mountain."
Natives indeed. And if the village is a mortal one, then this family must have come into possession of some form of inheritance. As for that cultivator… if he had aided them, they would not have been cast aside so suddenly upon his arrival.
"There! That's my house!" the boy exclaimed suddenly, pointing ahead.
Yang Zhai's gaze followed his finger.
A house stood there, constructed of wood. Not the crude hut he had expected, but a sturdy, two-storey structure. Around it stood a concrete wall, nearly seven feet high, and along its crest thorny vines were woven thick, placed there with clear intent.
The vines thrived, vibrant and healthy, too deliberate to be wild. The gap between the house and the enclosing wall spanned nearly seven meters, and on one side stood a massive concrete gate, heavy and shut.
From the windows of the house, light emerged into the night, faint yet steady.
Built in the heart of the forest, resting against the side of the mountain, the house spoke of solitude—fortified, deliberate, and watchful against the world.
!|!*****!*****!|!