The peak was quiet.
Moonlight spilled over wind-swept stone, catching in the frost-tipped grass like scattered shards of pearl. A small lacquered table stood at the center of the clearing, flanked by two seated figures. The only sound was the gentle clink of porcelain—Xie Yingying pouring tea with practiced ease, the delicate steam curling upward like incense smoke.
The tea's fragrance lingered in the air—light, grassy, with a subtle depth that hinted at spiritual nourishment. Su Min's eyes lowered, her gaze lingering on the familiar leaves steeping in her cup.
"You dried these yourself," she said quietly, breaking the silence.
Xie Yingying's lips curled faintly. "You recognized them?"
"Mhm." Su Min lifted the cup, letting the steam warm her face. "My plants, right?."
Xie Yingying replied, voice casual but honest. "I heard about a healer who raised them like pets. Said her tea could settle even the most restless meridians. I found that curious."
Su Min hummed, noncommittal, and took a sip. It tasted of memory.
Once, she'd tended those spirits herself, back when she still hiding behind her identity as healer, obscuring the Emperor's intel, and guarding the gourd to ripen. She didn't expect anyone to remember. Much less that the leaves would travel all the way back to her like this.
The silence that followed wasn't awkward—it was thoughtful. The kind that only formed between two people comfortable enough not to force conversation, yet aware of the space they shared.
Below them, clouds blanketed the valley, silver in the moonlight. Somewhere in the forest beneath that mist, something stirred—massive, ancient, incomplete. The demon beast they waited for had not yet fully matured. It was a rare pause in a world that offered few.
"I always thought tea was an overrated mortal affectation," Xie Yingying said, swirling her own cup with idle fingers. "But this… isn't bad."
Su Min gave a soft snort. "High praise."
"From me? It is."
Su Min looked up. Xie Yingying wasn't smiling, exactly, but her expression had softened. Her usual cool detachment had thinned, and beneath it, a flicker of warmth peeked through.
"You've changed," Su Min said before she could stop herself.
Xie Yingying lifted an eyebrow. "Have I?"
"From the first time we met."
Xie Yingying's gaze turned distant, but not cold. "I suppose I have. Or maybe I've just remembered how to act human."
That drew a quiet laugh from Su Min.
"I was never good at small talk," Xie Yingying continued. "Not as a Holy Maiden. Not in my sect. Everyone wanted something—either guidance or favor. And then I slept through a few centuries. Hardly conducive to good social graces."
Su Min didn't press her. She just poured them both another cup.
After a pause, Xie Yingying leaned forward, resting her arms on the low table. Her sleeves fluttered slightly in the mountain breeze.
"Have you ever heard of the Heavenly Yin Sect?"
Su Min frowned faintly. "No… I haven't. Doesn't sound familiar."
Xie Yingying let out a soft breath—not quite a sigh, more like resignation. "I'm not surprised. No one remembers it anymore."
Her gaze drifted to the moon, luminous and full above them. "It was once a great sect. Ancient. Older than most of the dynasties that ever ruled these lands. But that was long before the Heavenly Decay began to ravage the world."
"You've heard of the curse," Xie Yingying said, voice quiet. "Every cultivator above early Golden Core suffers from it. Their qi turns volatile. Their lifespan bleeds away faster the more power they command. It didn't used to be like that. Once, ascension was a path. Not a death sentence."
Su Min nodded slowly, silently.
"The curse struck slowly at first. But it was cruel. Unforgiving. The stronger you were, the sooner you were swallowed." Xie Yingying's voice darkened, shadowed by memory. "My sect tried everything. Medicines, formations, even sealing techniques to slow the decay. But in the end… it claimed everyone. Not by battle. Not by betrayal. Just time. And the heavens themselves."
Su Min said nothing. The wind shifted again, carrying the soft scent of bamboo and tea.
"I was supposed to awaken much later," Xie Yingying said, her gaze distant. "Near the opening of the Golden Core Avenue. That was the plan. The seals were designed to align with celestial shifts—when the curse might've weakened. When the world might've changed."
Her lips curved, thin and bitter. "But instead, I was dragged awake three centuries too early by a fool who thought I'd be grateful."
Su Min let out soft chuckle on that memories. "And then you suddenly strike at me."
A faint smirk tugged at Xie Yingying's mouth. "Clashing blades. Measuring strength. Not exactly the traditional start to an alliance."
"True." Su Min looked down at her tea again. "But somehow… here we are."
She left the rest unsaid.
For a moment, the wind shifted—bringing with it the faint, distant cry of a night bird. The mountain seemed to exhale.
Xie Yingying looked at Su Min again. "And you? You've yet to tell me anything true about yourself."
Su Min's eyes flicked upward, guarded. "Everything I've said has been true. Just not everything worth knowing."
"Clever dodge."
"It's a useful skill."
Another pause. But this time, Xie Yingying didn't let it stretch too far.
"I did some digging," she said, voice quiet. "Just to understand. I needed to know who I was fighting beside."
Su Min is not surprised, Xie Yingying already talk about her clan and her grudge few moments ago. She decide to humour her "And what did you find?"
"A ghost," Xie Yingying said simply. "A wandering alchemist in the southern frontier. Hidden deep in the mountains. Treated wounds, healed illnesses, asked for nothing but herbs and ores in exchange. Created tokens that became local currency."
Su Min said nothing.
"You saved people, Su Min. Quietly. Consistently. Without letting anyone name you saint or sinner. You just… did the work."
The words hung there, suspended in the chill night air.
Su Min's hands curled slightly in her lap. "You make it sound noble."
Then she set her cup down, leaning back. The wind shifted, rustling the leaves overhead.
"The Su Clan," Xie Yingying added after a pause. "They were noble once. And then they were gone. Wiped out."
"I was fourteen," Su Min said softly. "Too young to stop it. Too old to pretend it never happened."
Her voice was calm, but flat. Like someone reciting the lines of an old wound she no longer dared to feel.
"My clan was executed for a rebellion we never joined. Wrong place, wrong connections, wrong time. The Emperor wanted a scapegoat. We were convenient."
A breath of wind passed, cool and quiet. Xie Yingying said nothing. She didn't need to. She simply listened.
"The Yong Prince rebelled, and we were accused of backing him. We didn't at that time, my father already pledged allegiance to the Emperor. But we had ties—old friendships, kinship bonds. That was enough." Su Min continued, as if reciting something she'd once read in a history scroll.
"They came during the evening meal. My parents were dragged away. My uncles tried to reason, my elder cousin resisted—but it didn't matter. The decree had already been sealed. After weeks of torture masked as interrogation, they carried out the sentence. Execution, at dawn."
She paused, fingers tightening slightly on her teacup.
"My father... he bargained with his last breath. Begged them to spare me. Promised I'd be no threat. And in a way, they listened."
Xie Yingying's brows knit slightly. "You survived."
Su Min gave a humorless smile. "That depends on what you call survival. I buried my family. I still remember the smell of blood mixed with rain. But mercy," she said the word like it tasted bitter, "meant being sold."
She exhaled, voice low. "A fallen noble girl makes for excellent stock. Educated, well-bred, defanged. Chunhong Brothel took me in before the ashes of our ancestral hall were even cold."
The mountain wind stirred again, this time colder.
"I escaped," she said, and for the first time, there was steel under the surface. "Didn't know then that the brothel was more than just a pit of indulgence. Its mistress—she wasn't just a trafficker. She was a cultivator. Feeding on girls to restore her strength. And me—"
"You were exceptional," Xie Yingying said quietly.
"Yes," Su Min said, eyes reflecting starlight. "She could smell it on me. My talent. My qi. If she devoured me, she would've returned to her peak in one night."
A beat of silence.
"That old witch from the Hehuan Sect?" Xie Yingying asked, already knowing the answer.
Su Min nodded once.
"And the Emperor?"
"They were already allies," Su Min said. "He feared what I might become. So when she asked for me back, he agreed. Soldiers hunted me across three provinces."
Her voice was soft, but her gaze distant—backward, far from the mountaintop.
"In early autumn, they cornered me in the Minshan range. Hundreds of thousands. They burned the forests to the ground trying to flush me out."
A flash of memory crossed her eyes—smoke, screaming animals, the world painted in fire.
"I rode straight into the flames. They didn't expect that."
She leaned back slightly, eyes turned toward the moon.
"The Jishui River was just beyond. A massive thing—kilometers wide. I had one chance. So I pushed everything I had into my soles, and leapt."
She closed her eyes.
"I remember how the wind felt on my face. How the fire looked behind me. How the river opened up beneath."
A pause. Her hand moved slowly over her tea cup's rim, tracing the condensation.
"My boots kissed the water. I ran across it."
Xie Yingying blinked. "You ran across the Jishui?"
"I didn't stop to check if I could. I just ran."
She opened her eyes again. "And when I made it across, I collapsed. Half-dead. But free. That night, I stopped being the last daughter of the Su Clan. And started being Su Min."
The name landed with weight.
A silence stretched long between them, settled and heavy.
Xie Yingying finally said, "I'm sorry."
Su Min shook her head. "Save that. It doesn't change anything."
"No," Xie Yingying agreed. "But it explains something."
Su Min turned her head slightly, brows raised. "Explains what?"
"Why you're still kind."
That gave Su Min pause.
"I'm not," she said after a beat. "Not really. I just…" Her voice trailed off, breath escaping in a quiet sigh. "It's a transaction. I need herbs, ores. They bring them. I treat their wounds. That's all."
She stared down at the tea surface, moonlight rippling in its reflection. "I didn't want to be a hero. I just wanted to survive."
Xie Yingying's voice was gentle. "And yet, you did both."
Another hush settled. The frost-tipped grass stirred in the wind. Then—
"She wasn't always like that, you know," Xie Yingying murmured. "The Demon Queen."
Su Min glanced up, quietly surprised.
"The one who ran Chunhong Brothel," Xie Yingying continued. "The cultivator who marked you."
"…You knew her?"
"I read about her. Her real name's been erased, but her early records—those survived. Barely." Xie Yingying's voice was quiet, steady. "She was born with a Ghost Body. Rare. Coveted. A physique made for spiritual seduction, perfectly aligned with Hehuan arts. But no one cared about that at first."
A gust passed through, shaking dew from the pines.
"She was sold," Xie Yingying said. "By her own mother. To a place like Yihongyuan."
Su Min's fingers stilled against the cup.
"She lived as livestock until the physique awoke," Xie Yingying went on. "When it did, the men who came to her didn't leave the same. Some never left at all. She drained them—took their essence, their power, their will. That's how she obtained her cultivation method. And from there, she entered the Hehuan Sect."
A pause.
"But from that day on, she had a taboo. One word she'd never tolerate hearing."
Su Min spoke it softly. "Mother."
Xie Yingying nodded. "No matter how powerful she became, how high she climbed… that word was poison to her. It broke her more than the brothel ever did."
The fire in Su Min's gaze dimmed, then cooled.
"She was still a monster."
"She was," Xie Yingying agreed. "But sometimes, monsters are just what girls become when no one ever lets them be anything else."
Su Min said nothing at first. Then:
"I hate her."
"You should."
"I nearly became her."
Xie Yingying didn't interrupt. Didn't argue. Just listened.
"But I didn't," Su Min said, breath fogging faintly in the night air. "Because someone, somewhere, gave me the chance to choose otherwise."
Her hand curled around the teacup again.
"That's why you're still kind," Xie Yingying said again, quieter this time. "Even after all of it."
Su Min didn't answer.
They sat like that for a long time. Quiet. Still. Two ghosts beneath the moonlight, living anyway.
Companions, if not yet friends.
Beneath them, the beast stirred again. The ground trembled faintly—just a breath—but it was enough. A reminder of what waited.
A silvery moon rose above the horizon. And from the heart of the valley below them… a foul, deathly aura surged into the night sky.
"It's emerged."
In an instant, the tea was forgotten. Both women stood, faces grim, eyes fixed on the source. A pressure pulsed from below—stronger than either of them. A Corpse King at the Golden Core level had broken free of its cocoon.