"Ninth, this place gives me a very bad feeling. I don’t like it here—let’s leave quickly."
Suddenly, Ninth’s gaze sharpened. He shielded Chu'he behind him as the short flute in his hand shot out, shattering paper effigies one after another before returning to his grasp.
"Impressive. The Witchcraft and Gu Sorcery Sect’s century-spanning masterpiece of venomous arts can sense my presence before I even speak."
Amid the fluttering scraps of paper, a paper frog leaped out.
It crouched on the floor, its vermilion-dotted eyes gleaming crimson, as though alive yet eerily lifeless.
Chu'he peeked out from behind Ninth, studying the frog’s scarlet eyes before lifting her gaze to his. Though Ninth’s crimson irises were far more vivid, there was an unsettling resemblance between the two.
Ninth ran his fingers along the cool surface of the flute, a faint smirk in his eyes, though his voice dripped with mockery. "Paper puppets nourished by living blood—crude compared to the Witchcraft and Gu Sorcery Sect’s puppet arts, but still somewhat clever."
"I’m merely an amateur, self-taught. To devise paper puppets on my own is proof of extraordinary talent and brilliance."
The frog’s body emitted a man’s voice—gentle as a breeze through bamboo, calm and unhurried, laced with composed laughter.
The next instant, a small green snake opened its jaws and chomped—the frog was shredded to bits.
"Hey! I wasn’t finished speaking!"
Another paper frog hopped out, only to dissolve instantly under the acidic venom spat by a spider dangling from silken threads above.
"Could you at least let me—"
A scorpion’s stinger pierced through, impaling the frog and dragging it into the shadows.
Yet another frog emerged. "Do you even know what manners—"
A wet squelch followed as a long tongue lashed out from the darkness, slurping the soggy frog away.
"I—I—" This frog’s voice came out breathless, as if exhausted. "How many gu insects did you even bring—?"
A centipede darted across the wall, skewering the frog before scurrying back into the dark, its "corpse" still pinned on its back.
Chu'he shuddered, goosebumps rising on her skin.
Ninth patted her head. "Chu'he, what’s wrong?"
She grabbed his hair to cover her eyes again. "Those creatures with too many legs… they creep me out."
His gaze softened, and he nuzzled her cheek with a chuckle. "Don’t be afraid. I won’t let you see them again."
Another frog appeared—this one hastily folded, barely holding shape. Clearly, its maker was struggling to keep up with the destruction, yet stubbornly persisted.
"Truly… uncivilized barbarians… can’t even let a man finish—"
Ninth flicked his wrist. A surge of force blasted the frog apart before it could complete its sentence.
"Paper will always remain paper. No matter how much filth soaks into it, it’ll never become a true fiend."
The red-robed, white-haired youth brushed imaginary dust from his fingers, crimson eyes aloof with disdain.
Chu'he popped out from behind him. "Ninth, you’re so cool!"
Pleased by her praise, Ninth stood taller, exuding the composed aura of a seasoned master as he advanced—now the one exuding relentless pressure.
"Puppetry techniques? I outgrew those as a child. Only half-baked amateurs would cling to them."
His voice was quiet yet dripping with arrogance, each word laced with contempt for the world.
With every step he took, the air grew heavier. Hidden in the shadows, a man glanced at the frost creeping toward his feet, gritted his teeth, and swept his sleeve to repel the icy advance.
As Ninth drew nearer, the hidden figure steadied himself and laughed.
"That person wasn’t wrong. You are a rare genius—nearly flawless. But only nearly."
Gears clanked. Bricks in the walls recessed, revealing holes that gushed icy water, flooding the chamber in moments.
"Of course, this corpse-tainted water won’t kill you."
"But you will be terrified."
"Absolutely terrified."
A droplet splashed onto Ninth’s cheek, cracking the skin instantly. Flesh and blood seethed beneath, straining to break free.
He clapped a hand over the wound, instinctively turning to Chu'he.
Unaware of his distress, she clung to him. "There’s so much water, Ninth! What do we do?"
The hidden voice chuckled. "I’ll leave you to enjoy the rest. How thrilling—will she still choose you so firmly once your true form is revealed?"
The figure vanished as the water surged, soon reaching their knees.
Chu'he felt Ninth’s body tense. Remembering his imprisonment in the medicinal dungeon, she assumed he couldn’t swim. Gripping his hand, she said, "Ninth, don’t panic! I can swim—I’ll take us out through the water channels!"
As she looked up, an icy palm covered her eyes.
"Don’t look at me!"
The water kept rising. Blind, Chu'he’s other senses sharpened. Something soft and slimy brushed against her—countless, writhing things, swarming like fish yet far more numerous, tangling around her limbs.
She screamed. "Ninth! There’s something in the water—so many things touching me!"
She tugged at his arm, but his grip was ironclad.
"Don’t be afraid, Chu'he. Don’t be afraid."
His voice had changed—rasping, layered, as if countless voices merged into one, reminding her of Seventh from the dungeon.
"I’ll… protect you…"
The voices multiplied, discordant, buzzing like insects, hissing like snakes, a grotesque chorus mimicking her beloved, closing in from all sides.
The arm she clung to shifted, its surface undulating as more things wriggled free, slithering up her wrist to her neck, grazing her throat, caressing her cheeks.
The chamber filled completely. Suspended in frigid water, Chu'he tried to call for Ninth, but only bubbles escaped. Sightless, she felt no cold—only the press of countless strange entities cocooning her.
She drifted into a familiar embrace. Someone kissed her, sharing breath—yet another’s lips brushed her cheek.
There were more kisses—countless more.
Her neck, collarbone, wrists, ankles… every inch of exposed skin was relentlessly caressed.
Trembling, she curled into herself, the bell on her ankle chiming softly before cold tendrils coiled around it, rubbing insistently between the red string and her delicate skin.
In that moment, robbed of sight, a question surfaced in her mind for the first time.
The first person she had met in the Medicine Men’s Den was Ninth.
Later, she encountered Seventh.
But before Seventh…
Between Ninth and Seventh…
And after Ninth…
Were there… were there many, many more crimson-robed, white-haired youths she had never seen?
