The ground trembled.
It trembled for a short period, as if something deep beneath the village had moved its position. Ash slid from collapsed roofs.
The half-burnt beam fell with a dry crack. The burnt symbol under Li Yuan's leg warmed up.
Li Yuan pulled his leg back instinctively. The skin of his leg throbbed, veins darkened slightly, as if ink had been poured beneath them. He stared, then clenched his fist.
"What is happening?" he demanded.
Qin Mo did not answer immediately. He planted his staff firmly against the stone and closed his eyes, brow tightening.
For the first time since Li Yuan had seen him, the old man's posture changed—it looks like someone bracing against a storm.
"The gate has acknowledged you," Qin Mo said. "That is faster than I expected."
The symbol flared.
Lines that had once been dull and scorched now glowed a deep, smouldering crimson. The air above it warped, bending light, as if the space itself were being folded inward. A low hum filled the village, the vibration felt in bone and teeth.
Li Yuan staggered back a step. "Acknowledged me? I didn't do anything!"
"You touched it with blood and intent," Qin Mo replied sharply. "That is enough to acknowledge."
The hum deepened.
From the center of the symbol, a crack appeared. It widened slowly, like a wound being pulled open. Within it was darkness. It was layered and shifting.
Li Yuan's breath came faster. "That's… the gate?"
"This is only its mouth," Qin Mo said. "If it fully opens here, what remains of this village will be erased."
As if in response, the crack widened another finger's breadth. The pressure intensified. Li Yuan felt it, his thoughts, dredging up images unbidden—fire, screams, and falling bodies.
He grit his teeth. "Then close it."
Qin Mo opened his eyes and looked at him.
"I cannot," he said. "Not anymore."
Li Yuan stared. "You said you guarded one of these."
"I said once," Qin Mo replied. "But now everything changed, they got stronger."
The crack pulsed.
From within the darkness, something moved.
Li Yuan's hand flew to his blade. "Something's coming through."
"Yes," Qin Mo said. "A herald."
A humanoid shape emerged. He was too tall, limbs slightly elongated, and his looks very flexible, like bones don't matter to him. He can move his body to any angle he wants.
Its body looked as if it had been carved from charred iron, fissures running along its skin, glowing faintly from within. Where its face should have been was a smooth, featureless surface—except for a single vertical slit that slowly opened.
The creature stepped fully into the village, the ground cracking beneath its feet. The symbol dimmed slightly, as if exhausted.
Li Yuan's heart hammered. Every instinct screamed danger, but beneath the fear was something else—an urge, sharp and immediate, to move forward rather than back.
"What is that thing?" he asked, his voice low.
"A Gate Warden," Qin Mo said. "This is a test to pass before entering the gate."
The Warden tilted its head. The light within its slit-face brightened, and Li Yuan felt a sudden pressure on his mind, like fingers probing his thoughts.
Images flashed—his uncle laughing, Old Ma carving wood, the twins running by the river.
Li Yuan roared and charged.
He didn't think, didn't plan. His blade cleared its sheath in a single smooth motion, steel flashing as he closed the distance.
The Warden moved at the same time, impossibly fast, its arm sweeping down.
The impact threw Li Yuan sideways.
He hit the ground hard, rolling through ash and debris. Pain flared across his ribs. He barely had time to twist as the Warden's foot came down where his head had been a heartbeat earlier, shattering stone.
"Get up!" Qin Mo shouted.
Li Yuan forced himself to his feet, blood in his mouth. The Warden turned toward him; his movements were precise. It advanced, step by step, as if certain of the outcome.
Li Yuan lunged again, slashing low. His blade struck the Warden's leg—and bounced off with a jarring clang, sparks flying. The shock numbed his arm.
The Warden backhanded him.
Li Yuan flew, slamming into the cracked well. He slid down, gasping, vision swimming. The world rang.
"You cannot kill it like that!" Qin Mo shouted. "It is bound to the gate. You must reject it!"
"Reject how?" Li Yuan coughed.
The Warden raised its arm. Light gathered along its fissures, crawling toward its hand.
Qin Mo slammed his staff into the ground.
A ripple spread outward from the impact, invisible but forceful. The Warden faltered, its light flickering. It turned its faceless head toward Qin Mo.
"By will," Qin Mo said. "By declaring that you will not be claimed."
Li Yuan staggered to his feet. His whole body screamed in protest. He could feel the gate's pull now—a subtle tug at his chest, his thoughts, whispering promises he didn't fully hear.
The Warden took a step toward him.
Li Yuan straightened.
He thought of Qingshui as it had been that morning he left. Smoke from cooking fires. Children's laughter. Familiar voices calling his name.
"This path doesn't get to choose me," he said hoarsely. "I choose it."
He stepped forward.
The Warden struck.
Li Yuan did not dodge.
He met it head-on; he abandoned defense, abandoned technique. He drove his shoulder into the Warden's torso as its glowing hand pierced through his side. Pain exploded, white-hot, stealing his breath.
But Li Yuan wrapped his arms around the creature.
He held on.
The light surged, flooding his vision. He screamed in defiance.
"I reject you!" Li Yuan screamed.
Something snapped.
The symbol beneath them flared one final time, then shattered into dull stone. The crack in the air collapsed inward with a thunderous implosion, dragging the Warden with it.
The creature let out a sound—as it was pulled back into nothingness.
The force threw Li Yuan backwards. He hit the ground and did not move.
The village fell silent again.
Qin Mo hurried to his side, kneeling. Li Yuan's clothes were soaked with blood, breath shallow. The old man pressed two fingers against Li Yuan's wrist, then exhaled slowly.
"Alive," he murmured.
Li Yuan's eyes fluttered open. "Did… did it close?"
"For now," Qin Mo said. "But understand this—gates do not forget."
Li Yuan tried to laugh and failed. "Good."
Qin Mo looked down at him sharply. "Good?"
Li Yuan stared up at the darkening sky, jaw set despite the pain. "Now it knows my name. One day, the one who destroyed my village will also."
Qin Mo was silent for a long moment.
Then he said, quietly, "And now, Li Yuan… the world beyond Qingshui knows you exist."