Ninth had gone out to kill again.
Chu'he didn’t know whether he truly believed her or if he intended to take her away from this wretched place. All she could do was wait in the stone cave as usual for his return.
But this time, the wait seemed longer than ever.
Chu'he paced near the cave entrance, peering out repeatedly, yet there was no sign of him.
Her heart pounded with anxiety. "Oh no, oh no… Did something happen to him?"
"Chu'he."
A familiar voice echoed from outside the cave—one she had grown accustomed to over their days together.
Her heart leaped with joy as she hurried to the entrance. "Ninth!"
"Chu'he."
Only those two words came from the darkness.
Chu'he froze mid-step.
The person outside, seemingly impatient, called again, "Chu'he, come out."
"Remember this, Chu'he. When I’m not here, you must not step outside the cave."
Ninth’s past warning echoed in her mind. Her feet remained rooted inside, refusing to cross the threshold.
"Ninth?"
"I am Ninth. Chu'he, come out."
Chu'he’s suspicion deepened. She took two cautious steps back, refusing to move forward.
A sharp whistling sound cut through the air. From the darkness, a slimy, elongated tongue shot out, coiling around Chu'he’s waist in an instant. With a swift yank, she was flung into the air.
"Ribbit!"
Blue fireflies swarmed around her, clustering at her side.
Dangling mid-air, Chu'he looked up—and her heart nearly stopped.
A yellow toad, as tall as a man, covered in revolting warts and mucus, held her aloft with its grotesquely long tongue.
Drool dripped incessantly from the toad’s mouth, its appetite for her evident. Yet it hesitated, restrained by its master’s command.
"The Gu Mother… is mine."
Seated atop the toad was a figure.
His blood-red robes were nearly crusted over, his disheveled snow-white hair obscuring his face, save for the faint glint of dangerous crimson eyes beneath.
Chu'he swayed in the air, nausea rising. "N-Ninth?"
"Seventh."
He corrected her coldly before ignoring her further. Patting the toad’s head, he ordered, "Little Yellow, take us back."
"Ribbit!"
The toad croaked cheerfully, bouncing through the dark tunnels with its master on its head and Chu'he dangling from its mouth.
Chu'he had a sinking feeling—being taken by Seventh would lead to no good end.
Jostled violently, she feared her waist might snap.
"Ninth—help me!"
Seventh remained unmoved atop the toad, his hair whipping wildly across his face. He cast a cold glance at her cries.
"Don’t bother. He’s locked in a fight to the death. He won’t return."
Chu'he’s voice faltered. In that moment, her first thought wasn’t for herself—but whether Ninth would truly never come back.
His wounds grew more severe each time, yet he never failed to bring her steamed buns.
She lifted her face. "What happened to Ninth?"
"Surrounded by them. By now, he’s probably been torn apart."
What did he mean by "torn apart"?
Seventh’s frame mirrored Ninth’s, but his demeanor was far colder. "That fool had the perfect material for refining a Gu Mother but refused to use it. Since he’s dying anyway, I might as well put her to better use."
"Who are you planning to refine into a Gu Mother?"
A sudden voice cut through the air, accompanied by a chilling, insect-laden wind.
The toad halted abruptly as a willow-leaf blade severed its tongue. As Chu'he plummeted, an arm caught her mid-fall.
Seventh stood atop the toad, his robes fluttering. With a wave of his hand, swarms of insects fell—but countless more lurked in the shadows, watching hungrily.
Cradled in someone’s arms, Chu'he looked up, elated. "Ninth!"
But her joy vanished instantly.
The white-haired youth reeked of blood. The dripping sound echoed like a funeral bell in the cavern.
Only the arm holding her remained intact—the other half of his body was a mangled, bloody mess.
Chu'he stared, stunned. "Ninth… where’s your arm?"
Ninth glanced indifferently at his wounds before releasing her and pulling out a bloodstained oil-paper bundle from his robes. "Today’s food."
Chu'he clutched it tightly. "You went to steal food in this state?!"
Ninth scowled. "Because you eat too much!"
She wanted to retort, but the sight of his bleeding body silenced her.
Seventh looked down, his aura icy from being ignored. "You’re gravely injured. You can’t defeat me."
Ninth stepped forward, shielding Chu'he. Even with half his body ravaged, he stood firm.
He smirked. "Killing you? Half my strength is enough."
"Arrogant."
They spoke in the Miao tongue, but Chu'he could sense the tension.
Staring at Ninth’s mutilated form, she realized—she was a burden.
Ninth turned to her, raising his intact arm. A small green snake coiled around his wrist, its crimson tongue flicking toward Chu'he.
She stumbled back in alarm.
The blood-drenched youth spoke. "Follow Little Green. Go now."
Chu'he hesitated.
"If… if Little Treasure comes…" Ninth’s lips pressed into a thin line. His gaze flicked to her abdomen before he looked away. "Never mind. Just leave."
She took a step forward. "Ninth."
He refused to meet her eyes. "Don’t hold me back."
Her feet rooted to the spot.
The little green snake slithered onto her shoulder, nuzzling her cheek.
Chu'he turned and ran, following the trail of blue fireflies.
Seventh sneered. "You can’t win."
"At least I’ll drag you down with me."
Seventh scoffed. "Fighting to the death for a mere Gu Mother? Foolish."
"She’s not a Gu Mother." Ninth strode forward, the wind tousling his bloodied hair, revealing eyes as red as rubies—or perhaps blood.
"She’s Little Treasure’s mother."
The two red-robed, white-haired youths locked eyes. From the shadows, swarms of Gu insects surged like a tidal wave, ready to devour one another.
Meanwhile, Chu'he ran endlessly. The red eyes that once lurked in the cave walls had vanished, as if signaling the end of the slaughter.
She asked the little green snake, "Will Ninth die?"
The snake nodded.
Chu'he still clutched the bag of misshapen steamed buns in her hands, the bloodstains on them now dried, cold and hard. In the past, she would never have glanced at such things—items that belonged in the trash.
But these days, she had relied on these blood-stained buns to fill her stomach.
All the lies she had spun were just to survive. Those deceptions weren’t flawless—they only worked because she took advantage of his naivety, fooling him into believing she was his betrothed.
And he even believed… believed the nonsense about them someday having a little one.
Chu'he’s footsteps grew slower and slower until, finally, she couldn’t move another step.
Blue fireflies fluttered around her, casting dim light, guiding her toward the path that might keep her alive.
The smart thing to do, of course, was to run toward the light.
But sometimes, she wasn’t all that smart.
The bundle in Chu'he’s hands fell to the ground. She turned around and took a step.
She sprinted through one pitch-black cavern after another, the faint blue glow barely illuminating her way, until she brushed past a pair of crimson eyes hidden in the shadows—unnoticed.
The figure blended seamlessly into the darkness.
A black-painted Nuo mask concealed his face, while thick, silken white hair cascaded down to his ankles. The breeze from the girl’s passing stirred a single strand, tangling it with the silver ornaments on his clothes.
A soft ding echoed—almost like an illusion.
