Thunder rumbled in the distance, bringing forth a downpour of rain that soaked my clothes and exhausted my strength.

Noticing my lack of focus, the two guards stepped closer, using the weather to increase the distance between us. The first guard, who inquired about Kazuo’s sword earlier, had an earring on his left ear that reminded me of Sagittarius. He carried a spear, gaze relentlessly focused, while the second guard was slightly shorter, not wielding a weapon. He also had a smaller stature, lingering in the shadow of his comrade.

While the rain pressed against my face, I considered my potential options. I need to choose my movements wisely since my body has gone under severe neglect for the past five years. Instead of using brute force, a more effective approach would be to use the environment to split them apart and engage in individual battles rather than confronting them at once. In case things get desperate, I still have one trick up my sleeve.

I cracked a smile, throwing them off guard enough that they froze, growing weary at what I was planning.

The first guard raised his hands and positioned the spear upright in a non-threatening fashion. “Listen, we don’t want to hurt you. We’re just looking for the Celestial Dragon Jade Saber from your friend.”

It was unexpected, but not entirely surprising, that he said that. However, the owner from the bathhouse, who was watching with anticipation on the sidelines, grew furious at the revelation. The sight almost made me laugh through the cold that settled into my bones.

No matter where I turn, people continue to hunt me down. I’m finding the idea quite entertaining after this long, almost excessively so. “Yes, I’m sure… Right now, you want my friend’s sword. Next, you’ll be after me for something else. Doesn’t it ever get tiring?”

“No, really… We don’t mean harm,” the second guard protested with earnest, almost enough to make me regret itching to fight them. “We…” he faltered, finding the first guard slowly raised his hand in a protective gesture.

They looked at me with extreme caution, as if I were the one chasing them instead. The scene abruptly shifts, replacing the dark, empty streets with a field set on fire under the stars. A sword dripping with blood glistened in my right hand, waning under my tight grip. There were bodies littered across the field, too many to count.

It was only after a passing moment of shock that I realized the detrimental truth from this scene. I was the sole survivor.

Below my feet was Kazuo, strewn across the ground covered in severe wounds, his eyes glazed over. The blade dropped from my hold and I fell to my knees in despair that I recognized him by another name.

“Ming Yi,” my voice cracked as I spoke his name, my throat too dry to say more. My hand shook as I reached out to touch his face, feeling his cold skin against my palm. Why? Why has this happened?

Wind swept around me, curling the flames closer to the edges of my sullied clothes. My hair whipped around me, revealing my white hair, different from my usual dark brown, but the details fell silent compared to the thought of losing Ming Yi.

He’s a god now, so he can’t die, right? This shouldn’t be possible!

I clung to his clothes, the rough texture of the fabric brushing against my shaking fingers as I delicately strengthened my grasp, torn between wanting to wake him and not wanting to cause additional harm. Did I really do this to him? “Ming Yi, say something,” I said, shaking him somewhat rougher now.

I swallowed hard when he said nothing.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen…” I pressed on his wounded stomach where the sword slid through previously. Despite knowing it was hopeless, I still tried to put him back together, even though he lost a significant amount of blood. “I can fix this. Maybe if we go to Aelius. Maybe…”

My mind whirled through different scenarios, reaching a dead end each time. I pulled away, my hands now stained with Ming Yi’s blood, and stared at them as though they belonged to someone else. There was a sense of detachment from the scene unfolding before me, as though wavering between dream and reality.

The scene shifted again, followed by an uncomfortable wave of vertigo that rendered my limbs useless. My body grew heavy, feeling the return of my drenched clothes. I ended up on the same street as before the dream-like sequence, but I couldn’t find the bathhouse owner or the two guards.

“Zhen Xue,” Ming Yi’s warm voice spoke near my ear as he hugged me from behind. “You weren’t moving for so long. I was worried you wouldn’t wake up.”

I watched him softly as he closed his good eye, his eyelashes brushing his cheek.

Somehow, against all odds, I found what I lost.

“Do you normally hug strangers like this?” I asked with a faint smile. “I’m going to worry about your safety.” I’d only meant to tease him a little into releasing me, but apparently, that ended up having the opposite effect.

“They won’t do anything to me,” he mumbled in a sleepy voice. “I’m the God of Water! I’ll drown them if I want to.” He snuggled closer into my neck, breathing in my scent.

“What nonsense,” I responded softly, watching him with a tender expression.

Ming Yi frowned against my shoulder, listening intently. “I shouldn’t have left you earlier.”

I found it amusing how Ming Yi never changed regarding my safety, even after all these years. “I’d hardly say you left me when I wondered off on my own.”

“Dianxia,” he said, eliciting a sense of familiarity I hadn’t felt in a long time, but the nostalgia followed with discomfort. “Why must you push away my feelings?”

Before I could respond, a woman pushed her way through the oncoming crowd with a look of distress on her face.

Ming Yi didn’t move so much an inch, almost daring her to come closer.

The woman dropped to her knees on the street. “Someone please help! My child is missing. My little girl…” her voice broke into several sobs.

“Quit whining, will you?!” an older man exclaimed. He heaved a sigh when she didn’t move, looking at her with displeasure. “You’re scaring away my customers. Go somewhere else, dammit!”

I broke away from Ming Yi, reaching out to help the woman stand. “Stay calm. Tell me what happened.”

Although she appeared startled, she leaned on my arm to steady herself, faltering on her feet. I gave her hand a light squeeze of reassurance. “Someone has been stealing our children,” she explained, wiping the snot from her nose. “Now my little girl is gone too!”

There was a crowd of onlookers, faces contorted with concern. The sight of them reminded me of the field of countless bodies and the rising flames. Not only that moment, but having experienced grief myself, I understood its impact and didn’t want others to go through the same pain. “Who has lost their child? Please come forward and tell me your concerns.”

As more people spoke, I listened to each story and noticed a discrepancy. Most of the victims were missing their spouses, or spoke of orphaned children they knew.

I met Ming Yi’s gaze out of curiosity, and to my surprise, he nodded in confirmation.

So we were thinking the same thing! This couldn’t be a coincidence.

When the crowd dispersed, I found Ming Yi deep in thought from where he was on the sideline. He caught my watchful gaze, head tilting slightly. “The sea has been quiet since the lockdown of Cassanova. Plus, as a country surrounded by the ocean, if they are being sold somewhere, then that means they never left.”

The more I thought about this matter, the more hope built inside my chest that I could save these children. I swiped the bridge of my nose, losing my smile. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling to know someone would go through an unwelcoming experience.

Ming Yi’s gaze seemed to shimmer like the star flecked sea that was somewhere beyond the horizon.

“What’s wrong?”

He shook his head solemnly. “I was just wishing that I remembered my past.”

I considered how to respond. “You’re not all that different, but that is just my guess,” I said with a faint smile. “I’ve been told I have a good sense of these things.”

Ming Yi chuckled with obvious disbelief. “And to think you were concerned for my safety when you’re trusting someone you just met. That’s contradictory, Zhen Xue.”

The sky suddenly darkened, turning a shade a pink.

Upon the sight, an ominous feeling rose within my gut. A chilly breeze swept through the air, dropping the temperature at an alarming rate.

Without warning, I ushered Ming Yi towards the nearest house.

We pushed through the lock, bursting open the door.

The wind had followed us inside, but dispersed as we forced the door closed. Our heavy breaths panted before us from the sudden development. The room inside was dark, but not enough to notice the furniture and empty fireplace.

The backroom door swung open, revealing an elderly man who carried a thinly lit candle. “What on earth is going on here?!”

“Not so loud,” I warned, coming over to calm him. “Look for yourself.”

His face contorted into confusion, turning a mixture of colors as he went around me to peek through the window where I pointed. “It’s been a long time since spirits have roamed these parts.”

He may not have noticed, but I’m certain that’s who has been stealing the children. The problem is that spirits aren’t selective about who they try to possess, but my suspicion tells me this spirit is different. “We’ll need salt,” I replied offhandedly, giving our situation more thought.

The elderly man set the candle down on the countertop, where he searched through the cupboards. He brought over the pack of salt. I thanked him and started pouring salt near the entrance, just enough to make a connecting line, and then I did the same with the windows around the home.

When I finished, I returned the pack of salt to him. “You’re going to be fine. I think we’ll try our luck and be on our way.”

Ming Yi seemed to be in a poor physical condition. I was about to assure him of our safety, but before I could speak, he urgently pulled me aside. “Zhen Xue, if something happens to me, go to my ship. There are enough provisions to last for months if necessary.”

My stomach twisted into knots, recalling the vision from earlier. Just as I was about to ask Ming Yi for clarification, the elderly man interrupted my train of thought by clearing his throat.

“You both should stay here for the night,” he said, seeming slightly more youthful than his appearance. “That’s the least I can offer for your help.”

My eyes widened at his proposal. “Nonsense. What I did was from a basic study on spirits. What we really need is toadstool mixed in liverwurst, but salt will do in a pinch.”

He took a careful step in my direction. “Why those ingredients specifically?”

I leaned in closer, whispering behind my hand, “Would you want to come near and smell that?”

He looked unable to respond.

“I thought so,” I said with a vague smile, swiping the bridge of my nose. After a moment, I asked, “Do you know of a ghost that steals children with a missing parent or both?”

Not to my surprise, he nodded. “Twenty-three years ago, a ghost appeared that disturbed many people,” he said, followed by a long pause before he continued. “To understand this story, you’ll need to know that Lady Rosalynn of the Autumn Court arranged a marriage for her handmaiden, Gwen. She envisioned a prosperous marriage, but never foresaw Gwen’s husband would murder his wife, who was with child.”

Although he had more to say, I thought the answer seemed clear. When he finished the story, I thanked the distinguished gentleman, whose name I learned was Hendery, and bid him farewell.

While weighing our next course of actions, the wind exposed a silver strand in my hair, but that thought seemed unimportant compared to how Ming Yi didn’t follow me outside. Dread coiled in my gut, momentarily gluing my feet to the ground. I spun around to fetch him, only to discover my fear had come true.

Ming Yi was gone.