By the time she finished eating, the sky outside had deepened to indigo. The window panes had gone dark, showing only candlelight and her faint outline.
Rui had told her to rest—firmly, like someone trying to herd a storm into a box—but sleep felt impossible. The day's trial still clung to her skin, every word and look from the Spirit King looping through her head.
She didn't know if she'd passed or failed. He hadn't said. He never said.
So when Rui turned away to clear the dishes, she rose quietly from her chair.
"Yao Yao," he said, not even looking up, "don't even think about it."
She froze.
"He told me to bring you to the lower chamber when you've rested," Rui went on, voice calm. "He didn't say when—so you'll rest for the night."
"I have rested," she said quickly.
"You were unconscious for three days."
"That's still resting."
He turned then, one brow lifting.
"If I wait till morning," she said quietly, "he'll change his mind again."
Rui studied her for a long moment, then sighed. "You're really going, aren't you?"
Yao Yao nodded once.
"…Fine. But if you faint there, I'm not carrying you back."
A small smile flickered across her face. "Deal."
***
The castle stayed quiet as they walked. Their footsteps echoed across marble and disappeared into the long halls.
The place was grand but empty—polished stone, gold-lined walls, tall ceilings that swallowed sound.
The further they went, the more it felt abandoned. Not another soul in sight, only the faint breath of wind slipping through some distant window.
It made Yao Yao wonder if this place had always been so empty—or if that was just how things turned out when there weren't many ancients left.
From what she understood, contracting one wasn't impossible, just painfully difficult.
Then again, it didn't seem that way for the Shang family.
Maybe it was a supply-and-demand problem after all.
The thought lingered as they kept walking, turning corner after corner through hallways that all looked the same.
After a while, every hallway looked the same, and Yao Yao stopped trying to remember the way. The air grew cooler as they went, the last traces of night sound fading until there was nothing left.
At last, Rui stopped before a wide door set deep into the wall. Runes traced across its stone surface, faintly glowing when he pressed his palm against it. The hinges gave a low creak.
A narrow stairway stretched beyond, spiraling down into the dark.
"Don't worry," he said, glancing at her.
She swallowed and nodded.
He swept his hand through the air, and light followed—thin lines running along the walls until the passage came into view. It wasn't firelight. Vines clung to the walls, their tips blooming with tiny yellow flowers that glowed softly in the dark.
"Come on."
He went first, slowing his pace so she could keep up. The air cooled but stayed easy to breathe, faintly sweet like the garden above. When she brushed a petal, it pulsed lightly under her touch.
"Spirit veins," Rui said over his shoulder. "They grow where magic runs strongest."
Yao Yao glanced up at the long curve above them, then down at the stairs still winding endlessly below. "It doesn't even feel like we're going underground," she murmured.
"That's because you're not," he said with a small smile. "Not exactly."
They walked in silence for a long while. Each turn of the stair felt longer, the light ahead growing clearer until a soft spill across the last few steps.
She stepped off the final one—and stopped.
The chamber opened wide before her, so vast the ceiling vanished into shadow. Light ran through the walls in pale veins, like roots glowing beneath skin.
And then she saw it.
A beast lay in the center of the chamber, wings folded close, its body half in shadow.
What she'd thought was metal turned out to be feather—each edged in dull silver, smooth and hard as steel.
When its eyes opened, they glowed a muted blue, sharp enough to stop her breath.
Across from it stood the Spirit King, one hand resting against the creature's shoulder. He turned at her sound.
"You're late," he said.
Rui crossed his arms. "We were going to come tomorrow. Who knew you'd be standing here waiting?"
The Spirit King glanced at him and let out a quiet laugh. He didn't bother replying, only looked faintly amused, as if Rui's words had been a private joke.
He rested a hand along the beast's neck, fingers brushing the edge of its feathers. The creature made a low sound and shifted once before settling again.
"Now that you're here," he said, turning toward the far end of the chamber.
The door ahead rose twice his height—silver and gold intertwined, carved with roots and blossoms. Real vines threaded through the grooves, their tendrils faintly moving as if alive. He stopped there and looked back.
Yao Yao hadn't moved. Her eyes kept flicking between him and the beast. The wings looked less like feathers now, more like blades. One swing could cut her in two.
Still, the creature sat perfectly still—watching the King the way a loyal pet might watch its master.
"So what exactly is this?" Rui asked. "Why here?" His gaze flicked toward the beast. "Are you not done with your—"
"I'll contract you," the Spirit King said, cutting him off.
Yao Yao blinked. "What?"
"If you pass one final trial."
Her heart gave a quick jump. Hope lit her face before she could hide it, though still unsure what he really meant.
"You only need to get past him," he said, nodding toward the beast. "By sunrise."
"Then you enter this." His hand brushed the door behind him, vines glowing under his touch as if they could feel it. "If you can do that I'll make the contract. If not, you'll return to the human realm tomorrow morning."
Rui stared at him. "You're serious?"
"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"
He placed his palm on the door. The carvings flared silver, then gold, the light rippling like sunlight under water, and the door opened just enough for him to step through.
Before stepping in, he looked back at her. "That is—if you can even get past the beast."
Then he was gone. The door closed with a low sound, and the light faded.
Yao Yao stood frozen, the echo of his words still hanging in the room.
Rui blinked, disbelief catching up. "He's serious," he muttered under his breath. "He's actually serious."
She looked at him, but he was already shaking his head. "Stay put. Don't move, don't talk, don't try anything. I'm going to speak to him."
Before she could reply, he was already crossing the room.
Over my dead body, he thought. No way is he letting that man bind a mortal. What the hell is he thinking?
The beast didn't move as Rui passed. Its eyes tracked him until he stepped through the door and disappeared.
Then the chamber went quiet.
Slowly, the silver beast turned its head toward Yao Yao.
"Um… hi?" She gave a small, nervous laugh.
No response.
And she waited. The silence stretched until even her own breathing sounded loud. The door was far—too far to hear anything behind it.
After a while, she glanced at the floor where Rui had walked. His footprints cut a faint trail through the dust. He'd gotten through fine. Maybe she could too.
She took a small step forward, careful not to make a sound, then another.
The air changed before she even reached the midpoint.
A silver claw dropped in front of her, cracking the stone with a heavy thud. Dust flared up around her feet and she stumbled back with a sharp gasp.
The claw stayed where it was, blocking the path completely.
Slowly, she looked up. The beast's eyes glowed a cooler blue now, unblinking.
"I just want you to know," she said carefully, "I'm not doing anything bad. I just want to go through that door. Rui went in a while ago and, you know, maybe he needs help."
No reaction.
Goosebumps prickled across her arms. Even without it moving, she could feel what it was—the power raging beneath the surface. When its claws had struck the ground earlier, the air itself had changed, heavy with magic. She could still feel it pressing against her chest, her heartbeat stumbling out of rhythm.
"Right," she whispered. "So… maybe I'll just go this way."
She edged sideways, slow and cautious, watching its face. The claw didn't move, so she took another step, then one more.
"See?" she said softly. "No problem. I'm just passing by."
She lifted her foot to step past—
The beast moved.
Its wings opened with a single sweep. The air cracked. A gust hit her square in the chest before she even realized what happened.
She hit the ground hard, slid a few steps, and coughed as dust filled her nose. For a second she just lay there, staring up at the ceiling.
Then she sat up, brushing hair from her face. "…Ow."
The scrape on her elbow stung, but not much. She looked down at her skirt. The blue dress was dusted brown, bits of dirt clinging to the hem. With a small frown, she started brushing it off carefully, patting the fabric smooth again like it was something precious.
"Unbelievable," she muttered. "I just healed this morning." Yet the fall hadn't hurt the way it should've—soft, springy, like the ground had bounced her back instead of breaking her.
"Guess you're really an armor," she said under her breath, giving the skirt a final swipe before standing.
She looked up at the beast again. Its wings were folded now, tail curled back in place, eyes fixed on her with that same cold calm.
"Okay," she said under her breath. "I get it. You're just doing your job."
Her voice softened. "Your boss probably told you not to let me pass. Probably said all kinds of bad things about me too. But honestly, I'm harmless."
Nothing.
She hesitated, then brightened a little. "How about we make a deal? You let me through, and I'll owe you a favor. You can cash it now or later—future favor, maybe?"
Still nothing.
Yao Yao straightened, warming to her own logic. "Think about it. I might not look like much now, but I'm technically noble back home. Soon-to-be magic prodigy, the kind the King will definitely favor. So if you take a favor from me now… before I become famous, you'd be investing early."
She nodded at herself, smiling as if the idea made perfect sense.
The beast's blue eyes followed her with an unimpressed calm. Then one wing lifted—not sharply, just a lazy sweep that sent a roll of dust drifting across the floor.
The wave hit her a second later. She inhaled at the wrong time and sneezed so hard her eyes watered.
Sniffling, she rubbed her nose and glared up at it through the blur. "Was that necessary?"
The beast snorted once and lowered its wing, settling back into place as if nothing had happened.
Yao Yao exhaled softly, rolling her shoulders. "Fine," she muttered. "We'll do this the hard way then."