The storm had passed by morning, but the forest still felt uneasy. Mist rolled along the ground like something alive, curling around the roots of ancient trees and swallowing the winding path ahead. The air was thick, dense with the scent of wet earth and decaying leaves, and the breeze, when it moved, seemed to hesitate, as though unsure of itself.
Li Hua, with his usual nonchalance, walked at a relaxed pace, hands clasped behind his head, his sword swaying gently against his back. He looked like a man enjoying a morning stroll, but Mei knew better. There was something behind that serene face—something just beneath the surface, a darkness he carefully kept hidden. His light, effortless strides kicked up small pebbles from the dirt path, the sounds echoing through the still forest. He whistled a lazy tune, a melody that was both off-key and cheerful, as though the man was completely indifferent to the mysteries that loomed around them.
Mei followed behind, her steps careful, her eyes sharp. The forest was quiet, too quiet. The birds, usually the first to break the silence of dawn, had fallen silent. Every now and then, she could hear the faint rustle of something unseen skirting through the underbrush. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching them, waiting. Still, she was hesitant to show any sign of unease in front of Li Hua. She needed him, for now, but she wasn't sure she could fully trust him. Not yet.
They had made camp the night before in a small, abandoned farmhouse just beyond the ridge. It had been more of a shelter than a home—four walls, a leaky roof, and the remnants of old hay scattered on the floor. But it was dry, and it kept the worst of the night's cold out. Mei had managed to light a fire, the flickering flames casting long shadows across the walls as she brewed tea from the dried leaves she carried in a small cloth pouch. The tea was bitter and earthy, but it warmed her hands as she wrapped them around the mug.
Li Hua had thanked her with a lopsided grin before sprawling on the floor, snoring within moments. Mei had stayed awake, her mind racing with thoughts of the Huang Dao Yin and the dangers that lay ahead. The storm had raged outside, the wind howling through the cracks in the walls, but the house had provided some comfort.
Now, with the storm gone, they walked towards the village of Yaojin. Mei's senses were on high alert, her eyes darting from shadow to shadow, as though waiting for something to emerge from the mist. The faint trace of the Huang Dao Yin still lingered in the air, but it was barely noticeable, like a faint, sickly whisper on the wind. She hoped that this village held more answers than the last, though a part of her feared that whatever they sought might be lost forever.
Li Hua broke the silence, his voice casual but carrying an edge of curiosity. "You really think this seal's piece is just lying around in some backwater village?"
Mei's eyes narrowed as she considered his words. "Not lying around. Hidden. Protected. Maybe cursed."
Li Hua snorted, amused by her bluntness. "Of course it's cursed. Nothing worth chasing is ever easy, is it?"
They continued along the path until they reached the entrance of Yaojin Village. A crooked wooden gate stood before them, its faded characters carved into the beam above. The words read: "Yaojin Village."
But there was something wrong with the place.
The village was eerily quiet. No dogs barked at their approach, no children played in the streets, and no old men sat gossiping on benches. The only sound was the soft whisper of wind through brittle leaves and the occasional creak of wooden shutters opening and closing.
"Where is everyone?" Mei asked, her voice tinged with suspicion.
Li Hua simply shrugged. "Hiding, maybe. Or worse."
They moved further into the village, passing homes with cracked clay walls and sunken roofs. Some houses had smoke curling from their chimneys, but there was no sign of life. The village felt abandoned, the silence hanging heavily around them. It was as though the air itself had grown tired and weary.
At the far end of the village stood a single house, the only one that seemed to be in anything resembling good condition. A red lantern swayed gently outside, its light flickering in the breeze. The house seemed to be waiting for them, a silent invitation.
Mei hesitated before knocking gently on the door. After a long moment, it creaked open, revealing an old woman standing in the doorway. Her eyes were sharp, scanning both Mei and Li Hua with a mixture of suspicion and weariness.
"Who are you?" the woman asked, her voice hoarse but firm.
"Travelers," Mei replied. "We're looking for someone."
The woman's gaze shifted to Li Hua's sword, then back to Mei. "Taoists?" she asked, her tone laced with disbelief.
Li Hua flashed her a roguish smile. "Something like that."
The woman didn't smile back. Her eyes darkened. "You shouldn't be here. The dead don't rest in Yaojin."
The warning was enough to send a chill down Mei's spine, but the woman stepped aside and allowed them to enter. Her movement was slow, deliberate, as though she expected the floor to collapse beneath her at any moment.
Inside, the house was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of incense. Dried herbs hung from the ceiling, their faint, musty fragrance mingling with the sweetness of the burning sticks. A small kettle of tea was already boiling on the stove, and the woman poured them each a cup with trembling hands, though she did not sit down.
"Three nights ago," she began, her voice trembling with a mixture of fear and sorrow, "we heard it. A scream from the forest. My neighbor's son, Yao Feng, ran out into the dark, babbling about blue fire. No one's seen him since."
"Did you look for him?" Mei asked, her voice soft but insistent.
"We did. But the woods... they twist," the woman replied, her voice growing faint as though the memories were too painful to relive. "No matter how far we walked, we ended up back at the gate. It's like they don't want us to leave."
Li Hua's eyes glinted with understanding. "Sounds like a boundary spell. A strong one."
The woman nodded grimly. "Then the old well started bubbling. No one goes near it now. Not since… well, not since the last priest sealed it years ago."
"The well," Li Hua repeated, his voice serious. "Where is it?"
"End of the village," the woman said. "But take this. It may help."
She handed Li Hua a small talisman, the red ink still faintly glowing. Mei studied it closely.
"A soul anchor," Mei murmured. "It wards off possession."
Li Hua tucked it into his robe. "Better than nothing."
They thanked the woman and left the house, the door creaking softly behind them. The village felt like it was holding its breath, like it knew that something was about to happen. The fog, too, seemed to cling closer, wrapping around them like a shroud. The air grew colder as they made their way toward the well at the end of the village.
A low hum filled the air as they approached. It wasn't loud, but it was there, a deep, unsettling vibration that seemed to rattle their bones. The fog, which had been thick and ever-present, began to recede as they neared the well. It almost seemed like the mist was afraid to touch it.
The well itself was ancient. Its stone walls were covered in moss, and wooden planks were thrown haphazardly across the top. The ropes that held them were frayed, as if something below had been clawing at them, trying to break free.
Mei stepped closer, her brow furrowing as she crouched to get a better look. "There's something down there. Something old."
Li Hua knelt beside her, pressing his palm to the stone. The moment he touched it, his body tensed, and he pulled back, his face tightening with the strain of something unseen pressing against him.
"It's not just old," he said, his voice low. "It's angry. And hungry."
Before they could react further, a voice cut through the stillness.
"Step away from the well."
A man stood at the edge of the clearing, his clothes worn but strangely decorated with strange geometric markings. His face was calm, but his presence filled the air with a weight that made the hair on Mei's neck stand up. He looked like someone who hadn't slept in days but whose eyes burned with a clear, unsettling intensity.
"Who are you?" Li Hua asked, his hand instinctively gripping the hilt of his sword.
"Someone who's been watching," the man replied, his voice calm but carrying an undeniable edge. "And someone who doesn't want that seal disturbed."
"Why?" Li Hua pressed, his tone turning sharp.
"Because it keeps worse things below."
Li Hua's eyes narrowed. "You're not a villager."
"Neither are you."
Without warning, the stranger threw a talisman into the air. It ignited in a burst of bright flame, and the ground beneath them shuddered. The well moaned in response, the sound low and resonating, as though something deep below was waking up.
"Move, and I will bind you both," the stranger threatened, his hand glowing with ethereal energy.
Li Hua grinned, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "You can try."
With a swift motion, he drew his sword, its edge glinting in the faint light. The blade shimmered with a soft, ethereal glow, the same energy Mei had witnessed the night before. The stranger reacted instantly, throwing another talisman, which exploded into a cloud of smoke. Figures began to take shape within the mist—shadowy, half-real beings with glowing eyes and claws that seemed to flicker in and out of existence.
Mei's voice was sharp as she threw up a protective ward. "We don't need to fight."
The stranger's gaze hardened. "You're too late. The seal's already weakening. You broke the boundary when you entered."
Li Hua launched himself forward, his blade a blur of silver. It met the talismans and flames in a flash, cutting through the air with precision. The stranger fought back with equal skill, his every move measured and quick. Their battle was a dance, each strike and counter strike a carefully choreographed sequence, but it was clear that the stranger wasn't just trying to stop them—he was trying to keep them from what lay below.
The ground shook violently as the well groaned again, louder this time, as though it was on the verge of cracking open. A deep, guttural growl rose from the depths, followed by a chorus of whispers—screams, cries, and laughter from voices long silenced.
Mei's eyes widened. "It's breaking loose!"
The stranger's focus wavered. That was all Li Hua needed. With a flick of his wrist, he disarmed the man and pressed the flat of his sword to his throat.
"Now," Li Hua demanded, his voice cold, "you're going to tell me exactly what's down there."
The stranger met his gaze, eyes unblinking. Slowly, he spoke. "It was sealed by the last true priest of Guangyuan Temple. A spirit too strong to kill. It feeds on memory. On regret. If it gets out... it won't just haunt this village."
Mei stepped forward, her face pale. "Why didn't you tell anyone? The temples in the city could help."
The stranger shook his head. "Because they don't care. And because the spirit is tied to the Huang Dao Yin. That's what feeds it. That's what you came for, isn't it?"
Li Hua's sword lowered slightly. His voice softened. "How do we keep it sealed?"
The stranger looked at Mei. "You have the bloodline. You're the anchor. You can reinforce it."
Mei froze. "What do you mean?"
Before he could answer, the ground beneath them trembled violently. The stones around the well cracked, and the well's wooden cover splintered. A thick, black smoke poured from the broken surface, rising into the air like a dark cloud.
A massive, formless shadow slowly emerged from the wreckage, its eyes glowing with an eerie light. It was towering and dark, a writhing mass of shadow and malice.
Li Hua stepped forward, his sword gleaming. "We're out of time."
Mei joined him, talisman in hand, the other glowing with the script light. Together, they stepped into the darkness.
"Let's finish this."
And with that, they charged forward, ready to face the terror lurking beneath.