A week later, Shen Mei found herself trudging through deep snow, her breath misting in the frigid air.
"My lady, you are not doing well and your body is still not well enough to handle the cold," Ya Er said from behind her, her voice taking on that nagging tone Shen Mei had grown oddly fond of. "So my lady, besides, it is dangerous out here—"
The forest around them was thick with ancient trees, their bare branches heavy with snow. The deeper they walked, the thicker the snowfall became. They were nearing the Northern Territories, where winter reigned for ten months of the year.
"Are you sure it's around here?" Shen Mei interrupted, scanning their surroundings.
Ya Er huffed, adjusting the bundle on her back. "Yes, my lady. I used the painting you gave me to ask around the village, even if your painting is—"
"Is what?"
It had been a week since Shen Mei's rebirth—or whatever this was. A week since she'd opened her eyes to find herself seventeen again, alive and whole. In that time, she'd arranged her thoughts carefully, piecing together a plan from the fragmented memories of her future.
For now, she needed the Blood Flower.
So she'd painted it, as best she could remember, and sent Ya Er to the village to gather information.
"Even if your painted is a bit…" Ya Er trailed off carefully.
"Are you mocking my way of expressing myself?" Shen Mei asked, though her lips twitched with amusement.
She was well aware that she had no skills in the arts. No talent for painting or music or calligraphy. She'd spent her childhood hidden away in this mountain shed, treated as an outsider by her own family. She'd never learned the accomplishments that were said to entice a man, the refined skills expected of a noble lady.
When she'd returned to the main estate in her past life, she'd tried to learn. But Shen Mei had never succeeded. Some things simply weren't meant to be.
"No, my lady!" Ya Er said quickly. "But really, if I hadn't seen that plant before, I would never recognize it from that painting."
Shen Mei's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Ya Er…"
"I apologize, my lady. I didn't mean to insult your special way of expressing yourself."
Shen Mei's lips thinned. She turned away and pretended to ignore the maid, though she couldn't quite suppress her smile.
Since coming back, she'd started treating Ya Er more like a friend than a servant. And Ya Er, bless her, had reciprocated—which apparently meant she now felt comfortable criticizing Shen Mei's artistic abilities.
"My lady, from what the villagers said, it is a poisonous flower. Only demonic beasts eat it." Ya Er's voice grew serious. "So why would you want it?"
Shen Mei kept walking, her smile widening slightly. "I know it's poisonous. That's why I need it."
"My lady, what are you thinking—"
"It's not what you think," Shen Mei cut her off. "I just need it for something."
She didn't elaborate further, and Ya Er fell silent behind her.
The truth was that the Blood Flower, while considered deadly poison to ordinary humans, held special properties for those with divine gifts. It could stimulate dormant spiritual roots, accelerate the awakening of one's divine function.
But most people—even the divinely gifted—weren't aware of this. The knowledge had been lost to time, buried in ancient texts that few bothered to read.
Shen Mei only knew about it because, in her past life, she'd spent years desperately searching for ways to restore her lost powers. She'd read everything she could find, consulted every scholar, pursued every rumor.
The Blood Flower had been mentioned in an old cultivation manual she'd found in the imperial library. By then, it had been too late—her meridians were too damaged, her foundation too unstable. But now…
Now she could use it properly.
"My lady…" Ya Er's voice was soft, hesitant. "It has been five years since we were sent to the mountains. They claimed to the world it was for fresh air, but in truth…"
Shen Mei knew what Ya Er was thinking. The maid believed her lady was planning something drastic. After all, a poisonous flower, a reclusive life, a family that had abandoned her—it painted a grim picture.
Ya Er thought she was planning to kill herself.
Before Shen Mei could address this, she suddenly grabbed Ya Er's mouth and pulled her down into the bushes beside the path.
Ya Er's eyes went wide with shock and confusion, but Shen Mei held a finger to her lips, signaling silence.
As someone who had spent years studying divine cultivation in her past life, Shen Mei was intimately familiar with the fluctuations of spiritual energy. She could sense when someone wielded divine power, when cultivation energy disturbed the natural flow of the world.
And right now, she felt it.
A battle. Multiple combatants, moving this way.
She frowned, trying to think of a way out of this situation. If she still had her powers, she could easily mask their presence, slip away unnoticed. But she hadn't awakened her divine gift yet, hadn't even begun cultivating.
A divine gift typically awakened on someone's eighteenth birthday. But Shen Mei's had been different. In her past life, she'd received the immortal function while attempting to take her own life.
Absurd, wasn't it?
That was why she'd come here, to this dangerous place. She wanted to awaken her gift as soon as possible, to change the course of her fate before it was too late.
Who would have thought they'd stumble into someone else's fight?
They crouched in the bushes for several minutes, the sounds of combat growing closer—clashing steel, shouts, the crackle of spiritual energy tearing through the air.
Shen Mei glanced at Ya Er, whose hands gripped her hunting knife so tightly her knuckles had gone white. She signaled her to stay quiet.
If they were lucky, they could hide until—
Steel pressed against Shen Mei's throat.
She froze, her breath catching.
A man stood over them, materializing as if from nowhere. Blood dripped from his robes, and a cloth mask covered the lower half of his face. But his eyes—vivid green, like jade or spring leaves—stared down at her with cold assessment.
The knife at her throat didn't waver.
Shen Mei felt Ya Er shaking beside her, but she forced herself to stay calm, to meet those green eyes without flinching.
She held her breath, silently cursing her situation. She'd just come back from the dead. One week later, and her life was already in danger again.
Why was she so unlucky?
The sounds of pursuit faded in the distance. The man's eyes flickered, tracking the movement, but he didn't lower his blade.
Then, suddenly, his body swayed.
The knife fell from his hand, and he collapsed forward.
Shen Mei barely managed to roll aside as he hit the ground. Blood pooled beneath him, staining the snow crimson.
"We need to leave!" she hissed, crawling out of the bushes. Ya Er scrambled after her. "Those people will come back."
"What about the man?" Ya Er asked, looking back at the collapsed figure.
Shen Mei paused, glancing over her shoulder. "It's not really my place to interfere. Besides, if we help him, what's to stop him from killing us? Let's just leave him."
"But he's bleeding. He may not make it."
"And so?" Shen Mei's voice was harder than she intended. "It has nothing to do with me."
She grabbed Ya Er's arm and pulled her away, moving quickly through the trees.
After they'd put some distance between themselves and the fallen man, Shen Mei stopped to listen. No sounds of pursuit. No fluctuations of spiritual energy.
She exhaled slowly.
"Go back to the shed," she told Ya Er.
"My lady—"
"That's an order." Shen Mei's tone left no room for argument. "I'll find the Blood Flower and return soon."
Ya Er looked like she wanted to protest, but something in Shen Mei's stance must have convinced her. With a reluctant nod, the maid turned back the way they'd come.
Shen Mei waited until Ya Er disappeared from view, then continued deeper into the forest.
The Blood Flower grew in places of extreme cold and spiritual density. According to the texts she'd read, it thrived near the lairs of demonic beasts, absorbing the chaotic energy they emanated.
She pushed through the undergrowth, her eyes scanning for the telltale crimson petals.
And then she saw it.
A cluster of flowers growing at the base of an ancient tree, their petals the deep red of fresh blood against the white snow. Even from here, she could feel the faint pulse of energy they gave off.
Relief flooded through her.
But it died just as quickly.
At the edge of the clearing, partially hidden by shadow, a massive shape stirred.
A demonic bear.
Its eyes glowing faintly with unnatural light fixed on Shen Mei.
And it began to move toward her.
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