Ninth loved killing.
To be precise, he should go by the name Chi Yan. Ninth was him, Seventh—whom Ninth had killed—was also him, and so were all those puppets representing the seven emotions and six desires slaughtered in past battles. They were all him.
Every generation of the Gu Sect's leaders had to undergo this ritual. As children, they were thrown into the Forest of Slaughter to fight their own kin.
If they failed to emerge, the current leader would simply sire another heir.
If they succeeded, the next step was to strip away their emotions and desires, transforming them into the legendary Gu King—a being whose heart knew nothing but the expansion of the Gu Sect.
Chu'he's appearance was an accident, one that prevented Chi Yan's desires from vanishing. Instead, they surged back into his body, becoming an even stronger "hunger."
The hunger to kill, to lust, to covet.
The hunger to possess, to destroy, to annihilate.
Years of suppressed darkness now flooded his veins.
Yet, because Chu'he liked calling him Ninth, he became only Ninth in her presence.
Because Chu'he disliked his methods of killing, he refrained from slaughter before her eyes.
But this never meant he was a good man. On the contrary, years of growing up in Miaojiang's ruthless, survival-of-the-fittest environment had long forged his bloodthirsty nature.
Now, these men had drawn their blades first. If he killed them all, surely even Chu'he wouldn’t blame him, right?
After all, he was so frail and helpless—merely acting in self-defense.
The stench of blood thickened as the twilight glow twisted into a dark, crimson hue.
The sword-wielding men looked up and realized the sky hadn’t turned red. Instead, a swirling mass of scarlet insects had blotted out the light, dyeing the world in an eerie scarlet.
The wind howled, fluttering the red robes of the youth who stood with one hand covering his face. Through his fingers, a pair of blood-red eyes gleamed with ravenous delight, his laughter laced with madness—a demon incarnate.
"My blood insects haven’t feasted in so long. Let’s spare the trouble of burying your corpses and leave no bones behind. How does that sound?"
The killing intent was overwhelming. The droning of the insects alone was enough to make one’s scalp crawl.
Impossible.
They could never defeat this Miaojiang monster!
As the swarm descended, the scar-faced man roared, "Hold your blades steady! Fight to the death, and we might yet live!"
Terror-stricken, his men steeled themselves, gripping their swords for a desperate last stand.
"Ninth, my hair’s tangled!"
The carriage door swung open, and a girl’s voice cut through the blood-soaked air like a discordant note.
The insects froze mid-flight.
The men halted, weapons raised in wary confusion.
A girl in green robes half-climbed out of the carriage, clutching a tangled lock of hair, her pretty face scrunched in frustration.
Vibrant and delicate, she was utterly out of place in this nightmare.
Chu'he glanced up at the wind-swept youth covering his face and blurted, "Amaterasu?"
Ninth didn’t understand her words but sensed she found him ridiculous. Lowering his hand, he muttered, "I thought you were sleeping."
"I woke up!"
Ninth bent down, pressing a hand to her head to shove her back inside. "Go back to sleep."
Chu'he toppled backward, her skull knocking against the doorframe. A small green snake tumbled from her sleeve. Enraged, she kicked at his face without restraint.
"Are you insane? I don’t want to sleep now!"
The onlookers gasped.
If mere words had provoked this Miaojiang fiend, how could this seemingly defenseless girl dare kick him in the face?
Ninth clutched his cheek, expression blank.
Chu'he scrambled up, glaring back just as impassively.
After a long pause, Ninth turned away with a disgruntled "Tch"—half-annoyed, half-sulky.
That was it? Just a click of his tongue after being kicked?
The men exchanged glances, suddenly believing the Miaojiang man’s earlier claim—that the girl in the carriage was his betrothed—might actually be true.
From the crimson swarm, a larger king insect buzzed forward. "Bzzzt!"
—Do we still kill them?
The little green snake raised its head. "Hsss!"
—The boss didn’t even fight back! What’s the point?
The king insect screeched, and the blood-red cloud dispersed instantly, vanishing as if it had never been.
Dusk reclaimed the land, golden light replacing the grim hues.
Chu'he turned to the men. "I heard your questions earlier. We haven’t seen the person you’re looking for, and there’s no one else in the carriage. If you don’t believe me—"
"We take your word for it!" The scar-faced man clasped his hands in apology. "Our apologies. We have duties to attend to. Farewell."
A quick study, he’d grasped the dynamic between Ninth and Chu'he in moments.
If Ninth was an unsheathed blade, Chu'he was the scabbard that restrained him. Without her, none of them would have left alive.
Once their horses had galloped far enough, the men shuddered in lingering dread.
"So that’s the power of a Miaojiang warrior. No wonder the Central Plains shuns them," muttered one, wiping sweat from his brow. Then, grudgingly, "How does a monster like him have a fiancée, while I don’t?"
The scar-faced man smacked him. "Shut your mouth!"
The sun dipped lower, nearing the horizon.
Perched atop the horse’s head, the little green snake swayed side to side, directing the beast at a leisurely pace.
What else could it do? Its master and mistress were too busy flirting. Truly, without it, this household would have fallen apart long ago!
"Wait—be gentle! It hurts!"
Ninth lowered his gaze, carefully reaching for the fussing girl’s hair again.
While sleeping, a strand had tangled in the dangling ornaments of her hairpin. Unable to free it herself without tearing it out, she’d turned to him.
Soon, the lock was freed, and Chu'he exhaled in relief.
When she looked up, Ninth had already turned away, fiddling with the hair accessories he’d bought for her, pretending to ignore her.
"Ninth?"
She leaned in, calling softly. He didn’t even blink.
Poking his cheek, she tried again. "Ninth, are you ignoring me?"
Silence. He traced the pearls on one hairpin, then the gemstones on another.
"Ninth."
"Dear Ninth."
"My beloved Ninth."
After several failed attempts, Chu'he's eyes sparkled with mischief as she suddenly pounced toward him, exclaiming, "My dearest, darling Chi Yan!"
Finally, he reacted—lifting his eyelids lazily, his gaze still clouded with lingering drowsiness. "What do you want?" he drawled, his youthful voice languid yet teasing, the playful lilt at the end sending a tantalizing shiver down one's spine.
