Wang Zhu rose from the bed, brushing off the lingering weight of the conversation.
"What day is it today?" she asked, shifting the subject.
Zui exhaled sharply.
"Two days. When I woke up, I was already in that old demon's clutches." His fists clenched, irritation simmering beneath the surface.
"That demon…" Wang Zhu's eyes narrowed.
"Does it have a name?"
Zui met her gaze and nodded.
"Ruyu. He's a five-hundred-year-old demon." His voice dipped lower, laced with contempt.
"My elder sister told me stories about him; how countless cultivators tried to capture him for decades, but none succeeded." He paused, his expression darkening.
"None… except for one."
His gaze locked onto hers.
"The cultivator from the Mowei Sect, Fushui. He was deceived. Ruyu took the form of Fushui's lover, Culing; whom he had murdered and skinned. By the time Fushui uncovered the truth, it was too late. He captured Ruyu, but after years of mourning, he let go of his grief… and with it, the seal on Ruyu's confinement broke."
Zui's voice fell into a grim hush.
"And you know what happened next."
Wang Zhu's brows furrowed.
"Why did he capture you?"
Zui leaned back against the bed, eyes shadowed.
"Did you see the body he was using earlier?"
She gave a slight nod.
"It belonged to a well-known merchant in this city. He's involved in underground dealings, offering desperate cultivators a shortcut to power." His tone was flat, resigned.
"You've heard the rumors, haven't you? About low-ranking cultivators sacrificing lesser demons to gain strength, to claw their way to the top?" His expression twisted in distaste.
"It's all true."
Wang Zhu remained impassive, but Zui didn't miss the flicker of understanding in her eyes.
"And that fool! Ruyu, he's the one who started it all." Zui's fingers curled into the fabric of his robes.
"I was just exploring this city with my elder sister, minding our own business when-"
His breath hitched.
Suddenly, he shot up, his movements sharp with urgency.
"My elder sister!" His eyes widened in sudden panic.
"Hurry! To the Florist Brothel!" he shouted, his voice shaking with desperation.
Without waiting for a response, he became a gust of wind, coiling around Wang Zhu's waist.
In an instant, they were airborne, surging through the open window.
Thirty minutes later, they arrived. But the brothel Zui had mentioned was nowhere to be seen.
The once-lively streets were empty, abandoned. Only a lone bridge connected this forsaken place to the town beyond, where a few scattered figures drifted, shadows among the mist.
"No…" Zui's voice cracked.
"No, no, no! This can't be happening!" His frantic pacing kicked up dust, his breathing sharp and uneven.
Wang Zhu stood aside, arms crossed, watching his distress with unreadable eyes.
"What do I do…?" Zui whispered, face pale with helplessness. His fingers dug into his sleeves as he squeezed his eyes shut.
Then, the air shifted. Wind howled to life around him, spiraling violently. The ground trembled beneath its force, dust and leaves spiraling into the forming storm.
Wang Zhu stood unmoving, ten steps away, her gaze steady.
Three minutes passed before the winds calmed.
When Zui opened his eyes, a slow smile crept onto his lips, one of grim satisfaction.
He turned to Wang Zhu, only to find her unsheathing her sword, shifting into position to take flight.
In an instant, he summoned the wind, wrenching the weapon from her grip and teleporting to her side like a ghost. His expression hardened.
"Where are you going?" he demanded.
Wang Zhu's calm gaze flicked between him and her stolen sword.
"My sword." Her voice was quiet, but something in her tone sent a chill down his spine.
Zui gulped. As expected of a cultivator near the first level of high rank. Forcing a nervous smile, he quickly returned the sword without protest. Still, he pressed on.
"So, where were you planning to go?"
Sliding her blade back into its scabbard, Wang Zhu gave him a brief glance.
"It's been two days. You're healed. I need to return to my sect and report the demon you mentioned."
"You can't!" Zui blurted out, voice cracking.
Realizing his desperation, he took a step back, forcing himself to calm.
"I'm sorry." His gaze dropped. For a long moment, he stood still.
Then, in a quieter voice, one stripped of its usual confidence, he admitted,
"As you saw, Ruyu captured me without effort. That's because... I don't know how to fight."
Wang Zhu's eyes barely flickered.
"I can call the wind, but I can't turn it into weapons," Zui continued.
"And…" He swallowed, his voice barely above a whisper.
"I'm afraid."
Something in Wang Zhu shifted.
A demon. Admitting fear?
In all her 21 years, she had never heard such a thing. Demons were creatures of destruction, insatiable in their hunger. They did not cower. They did not plead.
"I've never killed anyone," Zui added.
"Not even humans. My elder sister raised me to avoid such acts." His hands curled into fists.
"So… before you leave, just this once, help me rescue her from Ruyu."
A slight twitch flickered through Wang Zhu's brow.
"Ruyu? He took your sister?"
Zui nodded.
"I promise, after this, I'll leave you alone. You'll never see me again." His voice grew softer.
"Just... help me."
She studied him, sharp eyes peeling back his words, searching for deception.
Finally, she spoke.
"You mentioned a brothel." Her tone was even.
"Where is it?"
Zui's expression darkened, a mix of frustration and sorrow crossing his face.
"It's not here anymore," he said, voice hollow.
"It's already heading northern region."