"…It's nothing," Mo Lian muttered, clutching her bleeding hand. But the tremble in her voice betrayed her.
Mo Yeyan's head tilted, lips curling into a crooked grin. "Nothing? Does it hurt, little flower? Oh, I bet it does…"
Mo Lian's fists clenched at his mocking tone, jaw tightening but suddenly, Mo Yeyan stopped. He sniffed the air like a hound, eyes narrowing sharply at her.
"…You."
He leaned forward, sniffing again.
"You—woman! You're my descendant!"
"WHAT?"
"What?"
"…What?" Astra added softly, her brow furrowing.
Mo Yeyan cackled, throwing his head back. "Unbelievable! I never thought my lineage would survive a thousand years! I assumed the worms took care of that."
"You're talking nonsense, you filthy spirit," Mo Lian growled.
"Is that how you speak to your ancestor?" Mo Yeyan spat. "Tch. My bloodline may have endured, but clearly, its grace died generations ago. Look at you—producing foul-mouthed brutes with no respect for their elders!"
"You lunatic!" she shouted. "Who are you calling your descendant? I am not related to you!"
Mo Yeyan smirked. "You carry my blood. I can feel it. You think I wouldn't recognize my own lineage? Even after they exiled me, even after they tried to erase my name… I still didn't feast on their corpses when they were slaughtered. Out of mercy."
The room went eerily still.
Wei Zhenyu turned slowly to Mo Lian. "Didn't you once mention a story…?" he asked. "A bedtime tale your clan tells children about a mad spirit who wiped out half his own clan in a rage and still wanders, cursing bloodlines?"
Mo Lian blinked, then rubbed a hand down her face in frustration. "I thought it was just folklore. A way to scare kids into staying inside after dark. My grandfather used to say it especially to me. 'Stay close after sundown or the Bastard of Blood will come for you and drink your soul.'"
Mo Yeyan beamed. "Ahhh, see? They still remember me! How touching!"
"You're insane," Mo Lian snapped. "I don't care what blood you claim. You're no ancestor of mine."
Mo Yeyan sneered. "Say what you want, but blood remembers. You are my descendant."
Mo Lian stood stiff, the blood still dripping from her palm, eyes narrowed as if she were staring into something far older than the room around her.
"Descendant…?" she muttered under her breath again, as if saying it aloud might disprove it. "You can't be serious."
Wei Zhenyu, meanwhile, had gone quiet his brow furrowed deeply, lost in thought. His eyes shifted from Mo Lian to Mo Yeyan, the still-bound Guo Ping, whose body trembled as the spirit within wore his skin like a cracked mask.
Mo Lian suddenly stepped forward, voice sharp. "Get out of him. Now."
Mo Yeyan chuckled darkly. "No."
"I said—"
"I said no," the spirit snapped, the humor vanishing from its tone. "I like it in here. It's familiar. And warm. And besides… who else would feed me peach wine and dumplings every other night?"
"You little—!" Mo Lian's fists trembled at her sides. "I should cut you out. I should've done that the moment I realized who you were."
"Go ahead." Mo Yeyan said mockingly, the red charm still dangling around his neck. "Let's see you can kill your beloved junior and your dear ancestor in one slash. Make it poetic."
Wei Zhenyu finally stepped between them. "Lian. Stop."
"You heard him. He won't come out. And now I know who he is—I should kill him."
"And kill Guo Ping with him?" Wei Zhenyu asked calmly. "You'll spill innocent blood to punish a thousand-year-old spirit for a sin he already paid for in death?"
Mo Lian scoffed. "You say that like Guo Ping hasn't been possessed every other week. Spirits love his scent—like bees to flowers. Every damn time it's him. Do you know how long I've been handling this? A whole year."
Her voice cracked with exhaustion. "I've exorcised more wandering spirits from his body than I've killed in missions. And now… now this cursed ancestor of mine decides he's the next tenant?! I'm done, Zhenyu."
Wei Zhenyu looked torn, gesturing with restraint. "There are still other ways. Soul-purging incense from Mount Yeling. Reversed invocation spells. If we reinforce the boundary lines and suppress the spirit with—"
"Oh, shut up with your methods!" Mo Lian snapped, whirling toward Wei Zhenyu. "Next you'll suggest singing lullabies and praying over him with moon water! I've tried everything."
"Lian, that's not what I meant," Wei Zhenyu said, keeping his voice calm despite her frustration. "We can still try other ways—"
"We don't have time for that," she cut in sharply. "We need to return to the sect as soon as possible. Master Zhang may be kind, but his patience has limits—and we've already delayed longer than we should have. We have to find a solution now. Force him out. Seal him. I don't care how."
Wei Zhenyu pressed his lips into a line and began working through every technique he could recall—chanting, incantation sigils, suppression charms—but none had any effect. He even tried to extract the spirit into a reinforced spirit-binding vase, only to watch it crack from within, shattering with a mocking cackle from Mo Yeyan.
Mo Lian folded her arms, her expression hard. "See? You couldn't force him out, and you couldn't seal him. Maybe it's fate."
Her fingers twitched toward the hilt of her sword.
"If my damned ancestor's final wish is to be slain by his own bloodline, then so be it. I'll take both revenges at once—his and Guo Ping's."
"Mo Lian—" Wei Zhenyu stepped forward urgently. "This isn't the time to think about revenge. Give me one more chance. One more try to drive him away without bloodshed."
But before he could move again, a quiet voice broke through the tension.
"…What if you don't drive him out?"
They both turned.
Astra stepped forward, brows knitted in thought. "What if… we seal it instead? Inside him."
Mo Lian blinked. "…Seal it? You mean leave it in Guo Ping?"
"If it refuses to leave, and can't be exorcised," Astra said, her voice low, "then binding it might be the only option left. There are containment seals—some powerful enough to suppress ancient spirits. If it's sealed within him, he won't be harmed, and it won't be able to escape or hurt anyone again. And Guo Ping… he could live."
Mo Yeyan tilted his head, his gaze slithering toward Astra with unsettling curiosity and fear. "…Huh?"
Mo Lian's eyes stayed on him for a moment before flicking to Wei Zhenyu. Her voice came low, thoughtful—laced with something darker.
"…A prison inside the body," she said. "Cruel. I like it." But then her brows knit. "Still… a seal like that would require immense spiritual power—layered sigils, reinforced spirit threads, precise convergence. And in more severe cases…" Her voice dipped lower. "A sacrifice."
Wei Zhenyu nodded slowly. "If we inscribe the inner binding array directly into Guo Ping's spiritual thread and layer it with a triple incantation seal, reinforced from both inside and out." He looked at Astra, then back at Mo Lian. "If done right, it might hold."
"And it would keep him alive," Astra added quietly. "Both of them."
Mo Lian exhaled, eyes narrowing slightly. "Zhenyu… can we do it? You know the risks. If we fail, everyone involved, the caster and the vessel could… die."
Wei Zhenyu went silent, calculating the risk in his head. Then he nodded, firm. "We couldn't risk it if the spirit were at full strength. But right now, he's weakened—unstable. This is the only window."
He turned to her fully.
"Lian, you have to be the one to perform the seal. Your spiritual power is higher than mine—your bloodline's deeper. And more importantly, you've performed multiple exorcisms on Guo Ping before. You know the timing of his spiritual thread. You've mapped it better than anyone else. That precision is the only reason this could work."
Mo Lian stiffened, but didn't look away. A muscle in her jaw twitched.
Before she could respond, Mo Yeyan let out a raspy snicker.
"Well, well… the children think they can cage the storm," he crooned. "How charming."
His voice turned mocking, eyes glittering. "You want to chain the great Mo Yeyan with brittle symbols and glowing scribbles? How quaint! And the little girl with the cursed blood will lead the ritual? Delightful! Let's see how long before your hands tremble and you slice that precious boy's soul in half!"
Mo Lian's eyes flared, but Wei Zhenyu held out a hand to steady her.
"Ignore him. Spirits like this thrive on fear and distraction. He knows we're close, and that terrifies him."
"I'm not scared!" Mo Yeyan barked, eyes flicking toward Astra again briefly, sharply. "But I'll say this… if you try it and fail, I'll make sure to wear Guo Ping's face when I kill you all."
A tense silence followed.
Then Mo Lian muttered, "Chained in this boy's body for a hundred more years sounds like a fine punishment for you."