Pain seared across Ruyan's wrist like molten steel poured straight into bone. She hissed through clenched teeth as red‑black sigils spiraled out of her skin, hovering for a breath like burning moths before sinking into her flesh. A cold numbness crawled up her arm as the symbols fused into a tattoo—beautiful in shape, lethal in meaning.
Yushen watched without blinking, the faint curl of his lips neither kind nor cruel—simply entertained.
"This is the Chainless Oath," he said lightly, as if discussing weather. "From now on, I will know where you are."
The sigils pulsed, a heartbeat of cold fire.
"And if you attempt to escape—space transfer or otherwise…" He flicked a finger.
A phantom rupture tore through her chest. For a moment she felt her spiritual core rattle, splinter, threaten to implode.
"—your core will shatter."
Ruyan toppled forward with a yelp— and Yushen stepped neatly aside.
Her face met cold stone with a resounding thud.
"Mm." His tone was thoughtful. "Graceful."
A soft, delighted chuckle followed, and Ruyan lifted her head, nose throbbing, pride bleeding onto the floor alongside her dignity.
Heat surged to her ears. "I'm… perfectly fine," she muttered, nasally.
"I can see that." Too much amusement. Far too much.
When he turned away, she threw a tiny punch at his back—
and froze as he halted mid‑step. Ruyan instantly transformed the motion into an exaggerated gesture of adjusting her hair.
Silence followed, and she could almost hear his disbelief pressing down like winter frost.
Without acknowledging the embarrassment, Yushen flicked his fingers.
WHOOSH.
A section of the stone wall slid open, revealing a narrow passageway.
"Well," he said dryly, "if you'd rather stay there, I won't stop you."
Ruyan limped after him, breath uneven. "My lord… which section of the Execution Hall is this? I don't recognize—"
His head snapped sharply toward her, one eyebrow arched.
Oh no. Oh no, oh no. She realized she'd just admitted, casually, that she had been sneaking in perhaps the most restricted part of the Solaris Realm.
"I—I had errands, my lord," she stammered, her voice trembling under the weight of a hundred lies.
"Mm. Such as?"
Errands like delivering contraband for wealthy immortals… slipping bribes to guards… smuggling desserts to prisoners… — nothing she could safely confess.
"Delivery, my lord," she squeaked. "Package delivery. Simple. Boring."
Yushen didn't move. He merely observed her, his gaze so sharp and unwavering it felt capable of peeling her thoughts apart, layer by layer.
Then he walked forward. Another sweep of his hand—
WHOOSH.
A second wall opened.
Ruyan's breath hitched. Beyond stretched an endless silver ocean, mists curling like sleeping dragons beneath a pale, clouded sky. No land, no cities. The air hummed with ancient spiritual energy, thick and alive, pressing against her like a tide of invisible hands.
This wasn't the Execution Hall. This wasn't anywhere she had ever seen on the maps of the Solaris Realm.
"Where… are we?" she whispered.
A man materialized from the mist, bowing. His presence was impossible to ignore—ancient, immense, and did not feel human.
Yushen didn't glance back.
"Zhao Yun," he said. "Send her back."
The man nodded, his aura swelling, wind tightening around them like a living barrier.
Yushen finally turned to her. "I'll see you very soon, Little Thief."
"Wait—I—"
Before she could speak again, the man's presence struck her neck. Pain shot through her with a burning whip of shadow, and darkness swallowed her whole.
--------------------------------------------
She woke upside down, head throbbing, vision swinging violently as if the world itself were a lantern in a storm. She was being carried over someone's shoulder like a sack of rice.
"H—HEY—PUT ME—DOWN—"
The man dropped her. Ruyan shrieked as she hit the dirt with a thud that left her winded and clutching her lower back.
"Owwwww!"
He crouched, face blank, eyes so cold they seemed to drink warmth from the world. "I will kill you," he said calmly. "Sooner or later."
Ruyan blinked. "…Why?"
Before she could form other words, he straightened and vanished into the shadows, leaving her trembling in disbelief.
"What is wrong with that man?!" she whispered to herself, panic threading her words.
Then recognition struck. She was at the entrance of Blossoming Gardens. Lanterns glowed a soft, comforting pink; petals drifted lazily across the courtyard; the familiar scent of lotus pastries hung in the air. Relief surged in her chest.
She formed a hand seal. Jinri answered instantly. White flames erupted beside her, and her companion appeared—a pale-haired child in a moonlit robe, trembling with worry.
"RYU!" he cried, throwing himself into her arms. "I—I didn't know what to do—I thought… I thought you'd die!"
She hugged him tightly, stroking his soft hair. "I'm here. I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry."
Then he saw the sigils. His expression hardened, fox‑fire flaring.
"That's a Chainless Oath Seal," he whispered. "Ryu… I can burn it. My fox fire can destroy it. "
She stared at the red-black sigils, her throat tightening.
"I want to fulfill my promise," she whispered, voice small but firm. "If I run now… he'll hunt me forever. And he's too strong to be an enemy. It's safer to finish the task and be done with him."
Jinri bit his lip, trembling with frustration.
"But—"
"Finishing the task," she repeated, "is the safest path for us."
"Fine.." He hesitated, then rummaged through his sleeve. "…Have a mooncake," he said softly, holding it out with trembling hands and eyes wet with worry.
Ruyan laughed—a small, broken laugh—and ruffled his hair. "Thank you, Jinri."
Together, under the soft lantern light, she ate the mooncake. But the red-black sigils pulsing on her wrist were a cruel reminder: her life now belonged to Yushen, and she would face him soon—powerful, merciless, and always watching.