The morning arrived quietly.
Mist lay low across the village like a thin veil of breath, drifting between crooked rooftops and damp earth paths. The fog had not completely vanished yet, but it was thinning slowly under the pale touch of the rising sun. Above, the sky stretched wide and clearer than the day before—soft blue with faint streaks of silver cloud.
Inside the small cottage, Xing Yue stirred.
She had awakened unusually early, though she had no real desire to move. Her body lay sprawled lazily across the wooden bed as if weighed down by the heaviness of unfinished thoughts. One arm draped over her eyes while the other rested on her stomach.
The events of the previous night replayed in fragments.
The strange half-told tale. The unsettling idol. And the quiet, stubborn unease that had settled in her chest ever since.
Because of that, she had lost any real interest in the group of orange-clothed wanderers—the so-called Weeping Ballad—who had paraded through the village the day before, crying songs of the dead.
If anything, the memory only irritated her.
Still… She had already decided.
The mountain the village girl had pointed out yesterday supposedly offered a clear view of the statue erected for the Third High Prince of the Radiant Veil—Prince Yu Shaochen.
A statue grand enough to be seen from a distance.
A temple grand enough to host… sacrifices.
Xing Yue clicked her tongue quietly.
The thought alone left a sour taste in her mouth.
A beam of sunlight slipped through the narrow window and spilled across the floor of the cottage, warming the wooden planks and crawling slowly toward the bed like a curious cat.
Xing Yue groaned softly.
"Fine, fine…" she muttered under her breath.
With clear reluctance, she finally pushed herself upright.
She stretched her arms above her head until her joints cracked lightly, then rolled her neck from side to side before stepping out into the small main room.
The village girl was already awake.
She moved about the cottage with the quiet familiarity of someone who had repeated the same routine every day for years. A small fire burned in the clay stove, its faint smoke curling lazily toward the ceiling.
Soon, the simple scent of food filled the room. Breakfast was modest—flatbread warmed over the fire and several soft buns steamed in a bamboo basket.
Ordinary food. Yet strangely comforting.
Without much ceremony, the girl placed the food on the table and gestured for them to eat.
Despite the humble portions, she shared generously. "Eat well," she said lightly. "I will go hunting soon."
Just as she had mentioned the day before.
Xing Yue sat at the table, holding one piece of flatbread in her hands.
Strangely, her appetite was absent.
She stared at the bread for a moment before folding it carefully and slipping it into the inner lapel of her clothing.
For later. Just in case.
Then she forced herself to bite into one of the buns. It was warm, soft, and faintly sweet. She chewed slowly.
By the time she swallowed the last bite, the village girl had already slung a simple hunting bow over her shoulder and stepped toward the door. "Don't wait for me," she said casually.
Then she left.
The cottage fell quiet again. Xing Yue brushed the crumbs from her fingers and stood. "Well," she murmured to herself. "Temple it is."
She pushed open the door and stepped outside— Only to stop immediately.
Because someone was already standing there. Just a few paces away from the cottage entrance.
Hong Tian Luo.
He stood straight and still beneath the morning light, dressed as neatly as ever, his posture calm and composed as though he had been carved from stone. His dark hair stirred faintly in the gentle breeze.
Xing Yue raised an eyebrow.
Well, well.
She crossed her arms behind her back and approached him with a small, teasing smirk.
"Mr. Hong," she greeted casually. "Are you also going to the temple?"
Hong Tian Luo turned his gaze toward her.
His face was perfectly neutral.
One could not detect even the slightest hint of what thoughts were passing through his mind.
Xing Yue studied him for a second.
But she had never been particularly skilled at reading people through their expressions.
So she simply shrugged inwardly and waited.
After a moment, Hong Tian Luo nodded.
"I want to see for myself what kind of sacrifices were held there."
His tone was calm. Matter-of-fact.
Xing Yue resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
That's right, she thought. You should at least investigate the bizarre things happening in your own territory.
But outwardly, she only smiled. "Then we are heading to the same place."
And so the two of them began walking.
The temple stood behind a low mountain ridge on the eastern side of the village.
At first, the journey seemed peaceful.
The path wound between tall grasses that swayed gently under the sunlight. Wildflowers dotted the ground in clusters of yellow and pale violet. Occasionally, the distant sound of birds echoed across the hills.
But as they traveled farther, the atmosphere gradually changed. The cool freshness of the village slowly disappeared. The air grew warmer. Then hotter.
The ground became dry and cracked in places, and the wind carried a strange, dusty scent.
Even the birds had grown silent. Neither Xing Yue nor Hong Tian Luo spoke much during the journey.
Four long hours passed before the temple finally appeared. And the moment Xing Yue saw it— She stopped walking.
Even from outside the outer gates, the place radiated an unmistakable aura. Dark energy drifted around the structure like slow-moving smoke. It was subtle. But unmistakable.
The temple itself was enormous.
Black stone walls rose high against the barren hillside, their surfaces worn by time and weather. Tall pillars flanked the main entrance, carved with ancient patterns that had long since faded. But something about the carvings felt… wrong. As if the sacred symbols had been corrupted. Twisted.
Xing Yue exhaled slowly.
A sigh.
"As expected," she said quietly. "I knew there was more to this than the Weeping Ballad claim."
Hong Tian Luo remained silent as he observed the temple carefully.
His gaze sharpened slightly as he studied the swirling darkness around the structure.
Without hesitation, he began walking toward the entrance.
But before he could step inside— A hand caught his wrist. Hong Tian Luo paused.
He turned his head slowly.
Xing Yue immediately felt the weight of his gaze. Only then did she realize something.
'Ah. This Hong fellow doesn't seem to like being touched'. She thought.
Her intuition screamed that she had crossed some invisible line.
So she quickly withdrew her hand. She gave him a light smile, as though nothing had happened. "With the situation outside…" she said casually, gesturing toward the temple. "Don't you think it might be dangerous?"
Hong Tian Luo frowned faintly. "Dangerous?" he repeated. Now he looked again at the surroundings more carefully.
The silence. The oppressive heat.
The faint scent of something metallic lingering in the air.
"Yes," Xing Yue said.
She folded her arms and tilted her head toward the towering temple doors.
"I mean, you heard the young girl yesterday."
"They make living sacrifices here." Her voice lowered slightly. "In Prince Yu's temple."
The name lingered in the air like an accusation. She continued softly.
"Considering this was supposed to be a holy place… yet it's soaked with the blood of innocent people."
She paused. Then added quietly: "You know… the kind that cries."
For the first time, Hong Tian Luo's expression shifted ever so slightly. He exhaled. A slow breath almost invisible. Then he nodded.
As much as he disliked admitting it… She was right. Something about this place was deeply wrong. So the two of them remained standing just outside the temple gates. Waiting. Watching.
The wind brushed past the stone pillars with a hollow whisper. And somewhere deep within the temple's dark interior— Something moved.
___
The silence outside the temple did not last long. A sudden bang echoed from within the dark halls—sharp, violent, and unnatural. It sounded like heavy wood crashing against stone, followed by something that scraped along the ground. Both Xing Yue and Hong Tian Luo stiffened immediately.
Their eyes met.
For a brief moment neither of them spoke, but the unspoken question passed clearly between them. Did you hear that?
Another faint thud sounded from deeper inside the temple. That was enough.
Whatever patience they had earlier—waiting outside to observe—vanished instantly.
Without another word, they pushed open the temple doors.
The wooden gates groaned loudly as they swung inward, their hinges screaming in protest after years of neglect. And the moment they stepped inside— Both of them regretted it.
A suffocating stench rushed out to greet them. It was thick and heavy.
A nauseating mixture of fresh blood, rotting flesh, and something far worse—something ancient and damp that had soaked into the stone itself.
Xing Yue instinctively covered her nose.
Even Hong Tian Luo, who had seen many strange things in his life, visibly stiffened.
The temple before them was… ruined.
Yet even through the horror, it was still possible to glimpse what this place once had been.
Once upon a time, this had been a temple worthy of a prince. The villagers had clearly understood the reputation of the Third High Prince of the Radiant Veil—Prince Yu Shaochen. The decorations still clung stubbornly to the architecture.
Rich red silk banners hung from the high ceiling beams, though most of them were now torn and stained. Gold ornaments decorated the walls, their surfaces dimmed by grime and dark splatters.
The pillars stood tall on both sides of the hall—painted with intricate patterns of dragons and clouds. Even beneath the layers of filth, the craftsmanship was exquisite.
Near the front of the temple stood a statue of a golden turtle. It was not large. Nor particularly grand. But it was elegant.
The metal had been polished so finely that it once must have glowed beneath candlelight. The turtle's head was raised slightly, its carved eyes gentle and wise.
Ordinary. Yet beautiful.
But now… That beauty had been destroyed.
The floor of the temple was covered in flesh.
Not bodies. Not skeletons. But pieces.
Fragments.
Unrecognizable lumps of human remains piled grotesquely across the stone floor. Some had already begun to rot, their surfaces dark and swollen. Others were still disturbingly fresh. Flies buzzed loudly in the thick air.
The walls— The walls were worse.
Blood had been smeared across them in wide strokes. Not splattered. Not spilled.
Painted.
As if someone had deliberately used the blood of the sacrificed to repaint the entire temple interior. The once golden patterns were barely visible beneath the crimson layers.
Xing Yue felt her stomach twist.
Even she—who had witnessed many cruel things across the heavens and the mortal world—felt a cold anger rising within her chest. But the most disturbing thing stood in the center of the hall.
A tree.
A cross-shaped tree had been planted directly into the stone floor. Its bark was blackened and twisted, its trunk warped like a tortured spine. The branches stretched outward in crooked angles, thin and claw-like.
It was not a normal tree.
Anyone who had even the smallest knowledge of forbidden practices would recognize it immediately. Wherever such a tree grew… It meant doom. The branches seemed to stretch toward them as if reaching for prey.
The leaves were dry and brittle, rustling faintly even though there was no wind inside the temple. And somehow… One could almost feel it. The tree was smiling.
Carved into the bark were several names.
The characters were scratched deep into the wood, as though the person who wrote them had pressed the blade with intense satisfaction.
Zinglong. Lingjin. Fengdo.
Hong Tian Luo had been holding himself with rigid composure since entering.
But now—
His expression darkened immediately. He had always prided himself on cleanliness. He disliked disorder and filth more than most things. Yet he stood completely still. His eyes locked onto the names carved into the bark. His jaw tightened.
Then he spoke through clenched teeth.
"Those three rascals…" His voice carried unmistakable anger.
Xing Yue turned toward him, raising an eyebrow. "You know them?" she asked.
Although the sight before her was horrifying, Xing Yue was not some fragile girl who needed someone else to act for her.
After all—
She was the Star Goddess.
Blood and death were not unfamiliar to her.
Hong Tian Luo folded his arms slowly, his gaze still fixed on the tree. "I knew them," he said coldly. "They were magistrates in Yanli."
He paused, his voice growing darker.
"They have long since died… yet they continue roaming the human world like greedy peasants who refuse to leave the marketplace."
Xing Yue frowned slightly.
"Judging from your words," she said slowly, "they sound like bad news."
Hong Tian Luo let out a quiet scoff. "Bad news? That is a mild description."
He pointed toward the carved names one by one.
"Zinglong. A rapist who preyed on young girls."
His finger moved.
"Lingjin. A cannibal who devoured the flesh of the young to preserve his youth."
Then the last name.
"Fengdo. A cult murderer who used human sacrifices to cultivate spiritual power."
The temple seemed colder as his words settled in the air. "They were executed ten years ago," Hong Tian Luo finished.
"And yet…"
His gaze swept across the horrific scene inside the temple. "They refuse to leave the human world."
Xing Yue stared at the grotesque surroundings again. Cannibalism. Rape. Murder. None of these things were within her field of expertise. Still, something about this situation bothered her deeply.
Why here?
Why would they choose this temple of all places?
She slowly walked around the hall, stepping carefully to avoid the scattered remains. Her eyes moved across every corner of the temple, examining the decorations, the blood patterns, the strange tree.
But she found nothing.
No artifact. No ritual array.
Nothing that explained the purpose of this madness. After a while she stopped and turned back toward Hong Tian Luo.
"You are the leader of the Yanli Continent," she said thoughtfully. "The direct descendant of the founder, Hong Yanli." Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Surely there must be something about this place that they want. "She gestured toward the carved names. "Since they were magistrates here."
Hong Tian Luo looked at her.
For several seconds he said nothing.
Then, slowly, he smiled. But it was not a warm smile.
"I never told you who I was," he said calmly.
"Nor did I give you my name." His gaze sharpened slightly.
"How did you know me?"
The moment the words left his mouth—
Xing Yue froze.
Inside her mind, a small voice screamed.
Ah! That slipped out.
She had been so focused on the problem that she had completely forgotten to hide what she knew.
Her expression shifted into an awkward smile.
She rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly.
Hong Tian Luo's eyes did not leave her face.
The air between them grew very quiet.
Finally, he asked the question that now hung heavily in the temple.
"You…"
His voice was calm. But probing.
"Who are you?"