—
From the heavens came a roar so powerful the trees bent and the ground quaked.
The wind thickened, heavy with the taste of ozone.
The dragon.
It was coming.
"THE DRAGON!" someone screamed.
Panic erupted among the soldiers.
Mù Qiantang's voice cracked with panic he didn't expect. "Kill them! Kill them all before the beast arrives!"
The soldiers fumbled with their bows, arrows notched, rain dripping from their helmets.
Lightning flashed again—white, merciless.
Even Mù Qiāntáng's eyes narrowed as he moved to the side.
Fear?
—
On the ground, Mù Jiāngyuè clung to the two lights of his life like a man who had promised the world he would not let them slip away.
His back burned where arrows and barbs had torn him; his breath came ragged, and every muscle screamed.
Níng Xuě's body nestled against his chest, limp and unmoving; their daughter — Xuán'er — sat between them like a bird whose wings had been clipped, eyes wide and silent.
—
The soldiers hesitated for only a heartbeat before drawing their swords, their trembling hands gripping the hilts.
Arrows were nocked.
The sound of the bows tightening filled the tense air.
—
Then—
Níng Xuě'er's lashes trembled.
Blood still dripped from the corner of her lips as her eyes opened.
A gasp tore through the silence.
They were no longer the soft, tender eyes.
Two blazing orbs of celestial blue, deep as the northern glaciers, alive with the shimmer of lightning veiled in sorrow.
The air itself seemed to bend around that gaze, trembling under the weight of something ancient, divine, and broken.
Tears streamed down her cheeks, glowing faintly as if the heavens themselves mourned through her.
Within those eyes swirled grief so profound it could fracture worlds — and power so fierce it could silence and freeze an army.
Mù Qiantang froze momentarily.
His jaw clenched.
The hairs on his neck rose.
What is this?
—
She tried to stand, clutching their daughter to her chest.
Mù Jiangyue reached for her, voice breaking. "Xue'er, no—don't move—"
But she only smiled faintly, her lips pale as frost. "Our daughter… must live."
Her voice cracked into a soft, haunting cry—so sharp and sorrowful that the very air froze.
Then the world fell silent.
And then — she screamed.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!????!!!!"
It wasn't a cry of pain.
It was a sound so raw, so heart-wrenching, that even the heavens seemed to break.
The sky split open.
Bolts of lightning tore across the clouds, streaking gold and blue, burning through the darkness.
The earth trembled beneath their feet as if the gods themselves wept for her.
Men fell to their knees, clutching their heads, their weapons shaking.
Horses neighed and reared, terrified.
The air turned heavy — suffocating — as a golden mist began to rise from her bleeding body, swirling around her like the breath of divinity.
"Aaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh!!!!"
The second scream followed, deeper, trembling with divine rage.
The very clouds swirled, turning gold and blue, thunder crashing in rhythm with her grief.
The ground trembled violently; the forest bent low as if bowing before her pain.
Even Mù Qiāntáng felt it — a cold tingle crawling through his chest.
And then, slowly… her body began to tremble.
She turned, eyes softening as she looked at her daughter — little Mù Xuán, whose cheeks were soaked with tears.
"Xuán'er…" she whispered, her voice barely more than breath.
She then lifted her slowly with her very last strength and staggered to a corner of the slope, gently setting her daughter down.
"Xuán'er… close your eyes," she whispered.
"M-Mother!" the little girl sobbed, reaching out, "I'm scared—"
Níng Xuě brushed her cheek, smiling through her tears. "Go… call Zhú Yuān. Go now."
She smiled faintly through the blood on her lips.
Then she bent down, pressed a trembling kiss on her daughter's forehead.
"Go," she whispered. "Find Zhú Yuān."
The child's eyes widened. She shook her head, sobbing. "M-Mother… no…"
But Níng Xuě only smiled again, her tears falling softly onto her daughter's cheeks.
She then turned back to her husband walking towards him, dragging one foot through the mud weakly.
Suddenly, her knees gave out; Mù Jiāngyuè caught her before she hit the ground.
His arms tightened around her fragile body. "Xuě'er… no, stay with me…"
She coughed blood into his shoulder, fingers gripping his sleeve as if to anchor herself to him one last time.
"Promise me," she whispered, the gold light flickering around her. "Protect her…"
"I will," he choked. "Always."
But how?!
—
Then—
The sky roared.
A sound like thunder cracking open the heavens rolled through the valley.
The ground convulsed; men screamed and fell.
The clouds above churned gold and white and crimson.
The earth split beneath them.
Trees bent and broke.
Mù Jiangyue's lips shaped a weak smile. "He's here…"
—
Mù Qiāntáng stumbled, his eyes wide.
What trickery is this? His throat tightened, a shiver crawling down his spine he would never admit.
"It's here," he hissed. "The beast—!"
But before he could finish, he screamed,
"Kill them! NOW!"
The soldiers snapped from their trance.
Arrows hissed through the storm.
Mù Jiangyue turned, wrapping his body around Ning Xue.
The first arrow struck his already injured shoulder making him groan so loudly like an injured beast.
Although he really was injured.
—
"Kill them!" Mù Qiantang screamed again — a ragged attempt to restore his small authority. "What are you waiting for? Are you waiting for the beast to kill you?"
Inside, though, his teeth were clenched, and his heart darkened with jealousy, fury, and fear.
That beast.
—
Mù Xuán's scream caught in her throat as she watched — her father shielding her mother with his body.
One arrow struck.
Then another.
And another.
Ten.
—
The tenth arrow hit Mù Jiāngyuè and the world took a ragged step into darkness.
He vomited — a hot spray of blood and salt.
—
"JIĀNGYUÈ!!!"
Níng Xuě'er's voice tore through the storm, raw and shaking, echoing like the cry of a dying heaven.
Her husband's body shuddered violently — arrows protruded from his back like cruel thorns.
He was lying on her, still shielding her with the last of his strength.
The rain drenched them both, but the warmth of his blood spread faster, pooling beneath them, washing away into the mud.
"Jiāngyuè!" she screamed again, her voice cracking as she reached for him.
His eyes fluttered open.
For a heartbeat, he smiled — faint, almost peaceful.
The world dimmed, and a strange stillness settled over him.
Then, from the center of his chest, a faint white glow began to bloom.
It started small — a flicker beneath the fabric — then spread, brighter and purer, spilling light across his body.
The soldiers paused, frozen, their weapons trembling in their hands as the glow grew stronger, pulsing with each fading beat of his heart.
Níng Xuě'er's tears mingled with rain.
She tried to touch him, her fingers soaked by the earth, but before she could—
Thwip.
An arrow from her so-called 'brother-in-law' struck her chest.
Her body jerked violently, the sound of impact echoing sharp and final.
Her eyes widened — wide enough to hold disbelief, pain, and love all at once.
For a moment, she didn't breathe.
Her lips parted slightly, as if to call his name one last time.
Then silence.
Her body went still against the roaring rain.
—
As the golden mist spiraled wildly, entwining with the white glow of Mù Jiāngyuè's body, Mù Qiāntáng took a step back as if the sight might burn him.
His voice left him, then came back smaller, trembling with a new, soporific terror.
"What sorcery is this?" he breathed.
For the first time, he felt the thinness of his plans, the brittle scaffolding of his jealousy.