The girl stepped forward, stopping at the bedside.
“You’ve drained the vital essence of sixteen men already.”
Her voice was cool, unwavering.
“Now that you’ve fallen into my hands, you can only blame yourself.”
The fox spirit clenched her teeth, eyes flashing with murderous intent.
“Meddling Daoist! This has nothing to do with you!”
The girl remained unfazed.
Her sword gleamed as she leveled its tip against the fox’s throat.
“Still so defiant, even with death at your doorstep? If I were to shatter your soul, it would only be justice, wouldn’t it?”
Terror flickered across the fox spirit’s face. She softened her tone at once.
“Mercy, Immortal Lady… please, spare me.”
“I am no immortal,” the girl replied coolly, retracting her sword as if she had expected this all along.
“I could let you go… but I want something in return.”
The fox spirit exhaled in relief.
“As long as you spare my life, name your price.”
“You agreed so quickly without even asking what I want?”
The girl in blue leaned down, lifting the fox spirit’s chin with a smirk.
“I want your inner core.”
The inner core was a demon’s most prized possession—the very essence of their cultivation. It was proof of their progress, painstakingly refined over years of practice. Without it, their power would be crippled, their decades—if not centuries—of effort destroyed. No one would willingly part with it.
The fox spirit’s expression changed drastically. She pleaded,
“The inner core only enhances magic; it does not contribute to cultivation. It would be of no use to you…”
“That’s exactly why I want it—to increase my magic.”
The girl in blue released her chin and once again pressed her sword to the fox’s throat.
“You’ve harmed so many people. Sparing your life is already a mercy. Your choice—your core or your life.”
Her tone was calm, but there was no doubt in her words. She was the type to say what she meant—and follow through without hesitation.
A demon could always refine a new core, but once the soul was destroyed, there would be no second chance.
The fox spirit glared at her hatefully for a long moment, then finally lowered her head. A small, fire-red pearl slipped from her lips.
The girl in blue picked it up and tucked it into her robes. With a flick of her wrist, she dispelled the demon-revealing spell.
Now powerless without her core, the fox spirit reverted to her original form. With one swift leap, she darted out the window and vanished into the night.
The girl turned and headed for the door.
“Please wait, Sister!”
The young man, now properly dressed and still flushed with embarrassment, hurried after her.
“Thank you for saving my life.”
“I was just doing a job.”
She paused for a brief moment, smiling faintly.
“She won’t be back. But if those men hadn’t been so blinded by beauty, they wouldn’t have lost their lives in the first place. That’s why I spared her.”
She glanced at him briefly, her expression unreadable.
“As long as one’s heart is upright, evil spirits can never truly get close. I’ve saved you this once—but only this once. Be mindful of yourself.”
With that, she disappeared into the darkness.
* * *
Strictly speaking, this place could not be considered a desolate wilderness. It was simply quiet—too quiet.
A dozen or so homes lay scattered nearby, their rooftops bathed in the golden light of the setting sun. A wide, well-trodden official road stretched along the foot of the mountain, winding into the distance. Occasionally, a villager carrying a hoe would pass by.
Beside the road stood a dense forest, its thick canopy partially concealing glimpses of gray-tiled rooftops, barely visible through the trees. Clearly, a prosperous estate lay hidden within.
The courtyard was built against the mountain, its grand double doors left half-open. Time had worn them down—rusted iron rings hung loosely, and the name plaque above was so weathered that the characters were no longer legible.
Peering through the gap, one could see an overgrown yard, weeds sprouting unchecked.
The place had been abandoned for a long time.
The girl in blue adjusted the bag on her back and pushed the door open.
The sprawling courtyard stretched before her—lofty pillars, a stone well, rows of tiled houses arranged in careful symmetry. Inside, tables and chairs were still in place. Some rooms even had old, tattered beds, seemingly left behind in haste, hinting that the previous owner had once been a person of some standing—perhaps a local gentry or scholar.
But now, the estate had fallen into utter ruin.
Cobwebs clung to the beams.
Dust coated the windowsills.
Even the wooden doors bore the telltale marks of burrowing insects.
And there was only one reason for it.
It was said that this house was haunted.
In just two short years, of the twenty or so members of the household, only half remained. Several Daoist priests and Buddhist monks had been invited to perform exorcisms—many of them ended up dead.
Eventually, the family had no choice but to abandon the house.
Some bold villagers, skeptical of the rumors, tried staying overnight, only to be found dead without explanation the next morning.
0 Comments