By ArkGodZ | DaoVerse Studio
The morning mist refused to lift.
It was common during the seasons of spiritual haze, but something about the air felt different. Denser. Still. As if the world itself was breathing only halfway.
Jian Yu walked slowly through the gardens of the Cloud Sky Sect. Cherry blossoms drifted through the air like soft ashes, and his steps echoed louder than they should on the jade tiles.
No one greeted him. But he no longer expected that.
In recent days, the looks had changed. There was no longer mockery—only silence. A silence heavy with avoidance, tucked behind forced smiles and quiet retreats.
He passed three alchemy disciples. One of them whispered something that included the word "contaminated." Jian Yu didn't respond. But he heard. He felt it.
Yuan used to meet him here, near the jade fountain where spiritual fish swam among essence lilies. She would bring him tea, sometimes food. She smiled with her eyes even when she didn't speak. Now, all he saw was absence—the cruelest kind of presence.
Entering the Inner Essence Pavilion, a chill crawled across his skin. The hall was sacred—carved into the mountain rock itself, meant for those seeking balance and growth of inner qi. Here, the sect's ancestral matrix channeled pure energy, refining a cultivator's core through calm and essence.
But what should've been welcoming now felt like judgment.
The circular space was nearly empty. Only three disciples sat in meditation, each isolated like islands in a sea of stillness.
Jian Yu took his usual place by the eastern wall. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe deeply.
The qi, once warm and flowing, now recoiled. It was like trying to drink dew with open hands—everything slipped through his fingers. Even the sect's matrix seemed to pulse unevenly around him.
"You've come back to meditate here?" Yuan's voice was soft, yet distant.
Jian Yu slowly opened his eyes. She stood near the eastern pillar, light from the mist cutting across her face like the world itself refused to reveal her fully.
"This has always been my spot," he replied, his tone lightly melancholic.
"It was. But maybe it no longer is," she said, settling onto a mat a few steps away.
"And yours? Does this place still feel like home to you?" Jian Yu asked.
Yuan didn't answer immediately. She watched the fountain in the center, where a single petal spun slowly in the current.
"I'm still ignored," she said at last. "But you… you can no longer be."
"That wasn't my choice," Jian Yu replied, voice low.
"What awakens in us never is," Yuan murmured, turning her gaze away.
"Are you afraid of me?" he asked, more gently than he intended.
She inhaled slowly.
"I'm afraid… of not knowing who you are anymore. Of not knowing whether it's really you speaking to me… or whatever's growing inside you."
Jian Yu lowered his eyes.
Neither do I.
He remembered the first time she had called him Jian Yu. He could barely speak, barely understand the world around him. And still, she had handed him a warm rice ball and said:"You don't seem like someone who'd accept pills right away. This was handmade."
A few days later, she taught him how to hold a brush.
"Your name is in your eyes," she had said.
Now, she looked at him as if nothing remained.
When Yuan rose and left, she said nothing. Didn't even glance back.
Jian Yu stayed still, listening to the fountain's murmur like a distant whisper. Even the water seemed to hesitate in flowing.
If even she can no longer see me... then there's nothing left to keep me here.
And yet, something inside him hesitated.
One final memory surfaced like a breeze:
Yuan kneeling beside him, covering him with a mantle when he'd fallen asleep in the inner temple. He had never known warmth that human. That gentle.
Now, it was out of reach.
He stood slowly. No anger. No pain. Just the quiet certainty of someone who understands they've already been left behind.
The mission hall was just as quiet.
Floating wooden boards listed daily tasks: gathering herbs, patrolling unstable qi fields, escorting minor caravans.
But one scroll, isolated from the rest, caught his eye.
Mission: Investigation of the Twisted MistLocation: Forest of Seven VoicesRisk level: medium to highNotes: spiritual anomalies and disappearance of celestial beasts reported.
He read it three times. Something about that forest... resonated with him.
Why does this feel like it's calling to me...?
He stepped forward and touched the seal.
"You're taking that one?" asked a red-robed instructor, frowning.
"Yes," Jian Yu answered, without hesitation.
"No one's wanted it. Some say it's cursed," the man said, recording his name. "You going alone?"
"Did anyone offer to go with me?" Jian Yu asked coldly.
"Of course not," the instructor muttered, handing him the scroll.
Alone, then.As always.
Night fell slowly.
The candles flickered in his pavilion, casting dancing shadows across the walls. Jian Yu sat before his table, the mission scroll open in front of him. The inked words seemed to pulse faintly, as if echoing with something unseen.
Forest of Seven Voices.
A place where old voices were said to echo without form, where mist carried forgotten memories.
Maybe I'm searching for answers...Or maybe I'm just running.
And then, without warning—he felt it.
Not a vision. Not a sound.
A presence.
Something watched him from within the mist outside.
It wasn't hostile.It wasn't friendly.But it knew him.
And it whispered the name he didn't know he'd forgotten.
End of Chapter.
Next Chapter: Fangs Beneath Silk