The morning sun had barely brushed the rooftops when a cacophony of voices jolted Ruyan awake. She bolted upright, ears straining.
"Did you hear?! The entire Cloud-Soaring Feng branch… brought to the Execution Hall!"
"All dead!"
"Who would dare anger the Lord?"
Ruyan froze, a chill crawling up her spine.
Jinri materialized beside her, now in his small humanoid form—a white-haired boy with fox ears and golden eyes that glimmered with suspicion. "Ruyan," he said dryly, sniffing the air, "did they just say the Cloud-Soaring Feng branch?"
Her stomach dropped. "Isn't that… Feng Ningyun's family?"
Peeking through the inn window, she saw the culprits: Old Man Bai, the innkeeper, gesturing wildly to a young vegetable delivery boy who was nodding along.
"Old Man Bai! Who did you say was brought to the Execution Hall?"
"Feng Lao's Family," the old man chuckled, scratching his head.
Feng Lao? Feng Ningyun's father!
"Suits them right. They enslave mortals, dabble in deceit… finally got their due."
"They were executed? For a canceled engagement?" Ruyan's voice was sharp, disbelief making it crack.
Old Man Bai snorted. "Engagement? No, girl. They stole from Lord Yushen himself. The Execution Hall spares no one who crosses him."
Stealing from Lord Yushen? The words rang in her mind like a bell of doom.
The young man added, shaking his head. "So foolish, thinking they could get away with it."
Jinri's ears twitched, his golden eyes narrowing. "Lord Yushen… Head Master of the Execution Hall?"
Her feet moved before her mind caught up. She dressed, tied her robes with trembling fingers, and sprinted toward Moonlit Pavilion.
-----------------------------------------
When she arrived, her pulse hammered against her ribs. Black-armored men patrolled the entrance with disciplined precision. The hall's doors loomed wide, yet no laughter or chatter escaped—only an almost tangible aura of authority and lethal control.
Swallowing hard, she caught a passerby by the sleeve. "What's going on here?"
The man glanced around nervously. "Feng Ningyu stole from Lord Yushen and fled. Every servant of the Moonlit Pavilion is being interrogated. They're searching for any accomplices. No one leaves without scrutiny."
Ruyan's knees nearly gave out. Every instinct she'd honed from years scraping survival out of alleyways screamed the same thing:
Run. Hide. Disappear.
Yushen— Head Master of the Execution Hall.
Rogue immortals, tyrants, heavenly criminals… all reduced to corpses beneath his blade. After ascension, he became a living calamity—whispered about as someone even the Council of High Elders refused to provoke.
And she—
She had insulted him. Stolen from him.
Her own voice echoed back at her, sounding now like the chanting of her funeral rites:
"You may have ascended, but the stench of mortality clings."
"An immortal now, yes—but a dog remains a dog."
At the time, she thought she was mocking Feng Ningyun's fiancé.
But now—I was supposed to meet Li Mozhi, so how in the heavens did I end up insulting Lord Yushen instead?
The question didn't matter.
The damage was already catastrophic.
She had called Yushen—the Executioner of the Four Realms—
a mutt. To his face.
A cold wave crashed through her. Her soul wanted to abandon her body and flee.
Jinri clung to her leg, trembling. "We're dead. No—we're beyond dead. We're so dead we circled back to being alive just to die again."
Ruyan swallowed hard. "Dead? Not yet. Feng Ningyun's the one who vanished. He doesn't know us."
A small pause.
"...yet."
Jinri blinked rapidly. "Do you think he realized you weren't Ningyu?"
Ruyan scratched her head, face flat. "Jinri… I used spatial transfer to get out of his hall. Ningyun can't teleport a frog without killing it. So yes. Yes, he knew."
"Then why kill her family?" Jinri whispered.
Ruyan's shoulders sagged, voice dropping.
"Monsters don't need reasons to kill, Jinri. They just… do."
She buried her face in her hands with a pitiful groan.
"Why am I like this?! My mouth moves before my brain! My hands steal on instinct! I'm a walking calamity!"
Jinri gently placed a paw on her shoulder, solemn and tiny.
"You have me," he said softly. "I'll save you no matter what."
She hugged him tightly, clinging to his warmth. "I would've died ages ago without you."
Jinri puffed up proudly. "Of course. I'm also your moral compass—"
"Which is concerning," Ruyan muttered.
-------------------------------------------
They stumbled back to their inn, both still rattled.
Ruyan lifted the golden trinket she'd stolen, eyes glittering with dangerous optimism. "Well… good news. There's still time to sell this."
Jinri's eyes flew open. "You learned nothing."
"Ningyun can't pay us anymore, but this can!" Ruyan said, logic buzzing. "And think about it—no thief would be stupid enough to sell the stolen item immediately. They'd hide. Lay low."
Jinri stared. "Right. Which is exactly why YOU are selling it immediately."
"Exactly!" Ruyan beamed. "It's the perfect plan. They'll assume the thief fled far away! They'll never expect boldness!"
Jinri slapped his own face with a tiny paw. "Your logic is terrifyingly sound… and that terrifies me even more."
"Of course!" she said with a wicked grin. "And because of that—tonight… we feast!"
Jinri groaned into his paws. "We're going to die on a full stomach, aren't we?"
------------------------------------------------
Ruyan slid her hand across her face, and the illusion unraveled. The mooncake shop owner's kindly features melted away like early mist, leaving behind the visage of yet another stranger. The alley outside was narrow and lantern-lit, unusually quiet beneath the evening fog. The usual chatter of merchants faded to a hush, letting the scents of roasted chestnuts, incense, and distant spices drift softly through the air.
"I miss your real face," Jinri murmured from the counter, perched on all fours like a tiny fox spirit. His gold eyes shimmered as he stared up at her. "You don't wear it anymore. Sometimes even I forget what you truly look like."
Ruyan leaned down, fingers brushing the soft fur along his ears. A faint smile tugged at her lips. She, too, had nearly forgotten her own reflection—buried beneath layers of lies, names, and borrowed faces. But some truths had to remain hidden. Only Jinri and her master had ever seen the real her.
"I can't risk anyone recognizing me," she said softly, pinching his cheeks before giving his forehead a playful flick. Jinri hissed in exaggerated offense, tails puffing out as they caught the lantern light, turning gold into shimmering flame.
------------------------------------------------
At the Black Market
The shopkeeper—a wiry man with a crooked smile and a distracting mole perched dangerously close to his left eye—leaned over the counter. His bony fingers rotated the trinket with the hesitation of someone handling a venomous jewel. His gaze gleamed like lantern light on oily water: sharp, greedy, calculating.
"Well, well… Xian," he drawled, using the Ruyan's alias only trusted contacts knew.
"What treasure have you snatched this time?"
Ruyan crossed her arms, feigning boredom despite the quick flutter in her chest. The shopkeeper traced the trinket's carved runes, turning it slowly as though the secret of his lifetime were etched into its grooves.
"This…" He whistled, low and impressed.
"This is worth a fortune."
"How much?" she asked, trying—and failing—to hide her excitement.
His smile stretched. "Fifty thousand gold coins. Not one less." He winked. "Enough for you to lounge in comfort for decades… if not half a century."
Ruyan nearly levitated from joy. Fifty thousand gold—Ningyun could never have afforded this. She clasped her hands, already tasting luxury.
"You'll get your payment shortly," the shopkeeper said. "Wait here." He shuffled into the back room.
Ruyan exhaled, clapping her hands softly. "Fifty years of heaven," she whispered.
Then—
A voice as smooth as silk sliding over steel drifted across the shop.
"Immortals and their greed," it murmured. "Always predictable."
Ruyan's blood froze.
She turned.
Yushen stood in the doorway—black robes brushing the floor, spiritual pressure coiling lazily around him like a sleeping beast. His obsidian eyes cut straight through her.
The shopkeeper's betrayal hit her like a punch.
Ruyan moved on instinct, grabbing the closest sword—a humble iron blade, balanced poorly, but a weapon nonetheless.
"Oh?" Yushen tilted his head, voice almost amused. "You intend to resist?"
"I don't intend to die," she shot back.
She lunged.
Her movements were fast—street-born ferocity blended with short-blade shadow arts. She struck at his wrist, ribs, throat; footwork light, angled, unpredictable. Every step was calculated chaos, a dance created by desperation and survival.
Yushen's eyes glimmered. "You've had training."
She ignored him, pivoting behind him in a smooth sweep, blade whispering toward his neck.
He caught it. With two fingers.
Her heart plummeted.
She twisted back, landing lightly. Yushen's lips quirked.
"Efficient," he murmured. "No wasted motion."
His gaze sharpened. "Who taught you?"
"None of your business."
"Everything about you," he answered, "is becoming my business."
And then he vanished.
Void-Step.
Ruyan dropped immediately. His slicing hand grazed the air where her neck had been. She countered with a rising slash—steel met flesh—
Ding!
His bare knuckles glowed faintly.
Pain shot up her arms.
"That stance," Yushen observed calmly.
"Street-born. Refined through survival. Not bad."
He flicked his fingers. Her sword flew upward and impaled itself into the ceiling beams.
Ruyan cursed, flipping back and launching a sweeping kick. He caught her ankle mid-air. Using the momentum, she snapped her free foot into his shoulder.
He let her hit him. Barely flinched.
"Well executed."
"Stop complimenting me!" she snapped.
Dropping low, she whispered a wind incantation under her breath.
Storm Flash—!
Light burst outward. Wind exploded in the room, sending papers flying.
Yushen lifted one finger.
The wind split cleanly down the middle, obeying him like a trained beast. The explosion dissipated.
The shopkeeper screamed somewhere behind them.
Ruyan rushed him again. Her strikes came fast—three short jabs from different angles, all aimed at his solar plexus.
He brushed them aside like drifting leaves.
"You are fast," he said.
"Clever."
"Adaptable."
A soft tap landed on her wrist.
Her arm went numb.
She staggered.
Still, she fought. She leapt off a shelf, flipping midair, blade-less but lethal, hands forming a descending strike aimed at the side of his neck.
"You're good…" he said, stepping aside with almost tender grace. "But you have a fatal flaw."
He appeared behind her.
"You fight as though I'm only a regular immortal."
Her stomach twisted.
He drew his sword.
Spiritual force surged outward—an invisible wave that split the stone floor like lightning through glass.
"Oh, no," she whispered.
He swung.
The force crashed into her like a collapsing mountain. Ruyan was thrown across the room, smashing through a table and slamming against the wall. Pain roared through her body.
Her vision blurred, dark edges pulsing.
Yushen approached, every step quiet but carrying the cold weight of winter. He crouched before her, lifting her chin with one finger—gentle, precise, terrifying.
"Better than expected," he murmured, voice soft and razor-sharp. "Much better."
His breath brushed her ear.
"Now… what should I do with you?"
Darkness swallowed her.