Under that intoxicating crimson moon, crimson blossoms kept bursting open, like sparks leaping from a brazier. So vivid, so bewitching, a sea of red made the world look even stranger.

“Other Shore blossoms—one thousand years to bloom, one thousand years to fall…” Xi’s pupils deepened into night-violet. Her lips parted in a breath of prayer, a hush like wind between reeds. The little girl who embodied the night wore a storm-dark face and kept stepping back like a tide retreating from rock.

Xi bent at the waist and plucked a single scarlet flower, light as lifting a butterfly’s wing.

Only then did the little girl truly see it—the slopes awash in bloom. This place was under her hand like a net on water, yet these flowers slipped free like fish. The path of fate had slid out of her grip, and the river rushed toward unknown banks.

Cradling the blossom, Xi looked straight through the little girl, as if the world had gone translucent. Her gaze clung to the petals, like someone mourning at a quiet grave.

“Who are you?”

The girl stopped retreating. No shelter lay behind her, only the cold. What gnawed at her most was Xi’s existence itself. She’d planned every piece, yet at the final drumbeat, an untamed note broke loose.

“Me?” Xi’s half-smile curled like mist, unreadable. “Who am I?” She shook her head and closed her eyes. Pale-violet light spiraled up around her like a slow cyclone, and behind her, a pair of wings condensing from violet radiance stirred the air like a moth against twilight.

“You’re…” The girl’s pupils pinpricked, as if dawn had revealed something she dared not believe. “You… you didn’t leave…”

Crimson kept blooming. In the heart of the red sea, pale-violet light wrapped the figure at its center like a halo on deep water.

“Time’s almost up. Another epoch lets the curtain fall.”

At Xi’s whisper, the sky let down violet rain, each drop like a lantern bead. Under a crimson moon, violet rain—everything felt dream-strange. Ripples of purple spread from Xi like rings on a lake, pulse after pulse.

Where the purple touched, space shattered pane by pane, glass on stone. In the end, everything drowned in violet radiance like a shoreline swallowed by tide.

At the fire, Ouyang skewered a chunk of meat with a branch and held it over the flames. Sizzle-sizzle—the fat melted and fell, flaring like fireflies as it hit the coals. A thick, meaty fragrance flowed out across the wilds like warm smoke.

“Mmm. This ‘Bull Demon King’ meat smells insane. Absolute top-shelf.” The roast in his hand came from Koer. Without his spirit bracing him, Koer’s body had slipped back to true form and lay sprawled on the ground. Ouyang looked at Xi’s condition and could only stare, hands tied, heart a stone in a stream.

Boredom came like a yawn in the wind, so he put on a one-man barbecue show.

While Ouyang gnawed without ceremony, a light-sphere at his side kept ramming the barrier like a moth banging a window, desperate to escape. That glowing ball was Koer’s soul. He could only watch Ouyang roast his corpse and eat it, a storm bottled where no thunder could be heard.

He howled, but Ouyang didn’t so much as blink. The barrier kept sound out like snow on moss.

“Ah! Bastard, stop…” If he’d had a body, Koer would have wept like rain. He’d rather Ouyang blast his remains to ash than watch his own flesh get chewed.

Ouyang wiped the grease from his mouth, then grabbed the ox tail. Smack, smack—he swung it like a whip, leather singing. “Nice. A god-tier tail makes a handy weapon.”

Then he eyed the pair of horns, snow-white and wicked as scythes.

“Also good. Craft it into a war horn. Blow it, and most horned beasts will bow to it like grass to wind. Or use ’em as daggers. God-tier quality. Rock solid.”

By now, Koer’s corpse didn’t look like anything at all. Horns gone, tail taken, even the hide stripped—a butcher’s river of cuts and edges.

Who could grasp what it is to watch your own body dismantled and eaten? Koer’s soul paced the barrier in a helpless loop, a caged beast. He’d roamed far, crossed blades with countless foes. Most warriors honored equals; after victory, they buried the fallen and gave them sky and earth.

Ouyang? He broke his enemy down like scrap and threw the pieces on the fire.

By the Supreme Law, Koer had never met a bastard like Ouyang.

Maybe Koer’s deep resentment pricked him, because Ouyang glanced at the bouncing light-ball. “Kid, my ghost-and-god-tier cooking got you awestruck? Come on, don’t be shy, it’s on me.” He tossed a bone into the barrier like flipping a coin. “Gnaw it clean. If you’re not full, there’s plenty more.”

Koer: “………………”

Gnaw his own bones? Rage flared red-hot. He dashed around the barrier like a comet in a jar, an angry protest etched in light. Bastard. Utter bastard. Ouyang watched the soul pinballing and smirked. “Huh, you happy now? Figures. My cooking shakes heaven and makes ghosts weep. Eat my stuff and look at you—”

In Ouyang’s mind, he’d tossed a bone, Koer had gnawed with gusto, then rubbed against Ouyang’s leg with a wagging tail… Wait, that’s a dog.

In a flash, Koer boiled over again. Ouyang obviously took him for a mutt.

“Kid, I’ll kill you!” Koer slammed the barrier with all he had, like surf against a seawall. Not a crack.

They wrestled with the night until the sky paled like silk, and the newborn sun climbed slow and steady.

“Dawn already? Sigh…” Ouyang still had no answer for Xi’s problem. A whole night fell away like embers, and he didn’t know if he sighed for her or for something nameless.

He sat on a split log and watched the sun bloom like a gold flower. A hand tapped his shoulder, light as a leaf.

“Sunset’s gorgeous, but sunrise has its charm too. Feels so alive.” The familiar voice came from behind like a warm breeze, but Ouyang felt no joy. His neck turned slow and stiff, a rusted hinge. A bright, laughing face hovered inches away, close enough for a stolen kiss.

On any other day, he’d lean forward like a thief in moonlight and take advantage. Now he sat rigid, unnatural, a single thought ringing cold: saw a ghost.

Xi… yes, the person was Xi. But how had she broken free of ‘Sin’?

Her face drifted closer like a flower on water. His heart thumped, thump-thump, drumming against his ribs. Wrong. This was wrong. He’d never felt that with Xi, not even when they first met and he’d seen everything. Back then, no drumbeat, not even a ripple. Now, her face neared, and his heart pounded like a startled deer.

Wrong.

Tension climbed his spine. Sweat beaded on his brow like dew. Maybe she saw the color drain from his face, because Xi finally stopped. She reached out to wipe his sweat, touch light as rain. The instant her fingers would have brushed him, he jerked back like a bowstring snapping.

“What demon are you?”

Xi stared at his wary face. Her expression shifted like a sky of fast clouds.

“With a guy like you, you’ll be a bachelor for life.” Deep-violet eyes held a mystery like dusk over water. She turned with a huff, woke Xian, and let him drift like a leaf in her wake.

When his pulse settled, Ouyang found Xi was still Xi. What had that been? Why had he moved like a fool? Why had his heart sprinted?

Heartbeat… heart moved? Did he just fall for her?

Doubts stacked like stones in his head.

“What are you dazing out for? Let’s go. Cross Emerald Mountain, and ahead is the village with Demon World creatures.” While he stared at the air, Xi rapped him on the head, a clean, practiced hit. She took her sister’s hand with her left, the map in her right, and led like a stream finding its course. He didn’t resist. Still, that punch felt too smooth, like she’d drilled it a thousand times.

“Big brother, hurry up!” Xian waved from ahead, bright as a lark. Ouyang had knocked her out, so she knew nothing of last night’s battle.

“Sis, what happened yesterday? You had black qi all around you. It was scary. You’re okay now, right?” From behind, Ouyang heard Xian’s soft worry float back like a flute note.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry.” Xi stroked Xian’s head, an elder’s palm smoothing a child’s hair. For a heartbeat, Ouyang felt Xi had ripened overnight, like fruit catching sun.

Before, he’d seen Xi as a kid. Now she felt like an adult—steadier in her steps, fuller in her air. In dealing with people and in presence, she’d grown.

“Strange. So strange…” Questions crowded his skull like birds on a line. Each time he asked, Xi only smiled like a fox and never gave him a straight thread.

“I swear… did you OD on pills?” With what he saw, it was the only rope he could throw. “Pills? Ouyang, don’t think I don’t get what that means.” Her fist clenched like a stone. He edged back a few steps, hands raised.

“Misunderstanding. Total misunderstanding. I wasn’t talking about you.”

“You think I’ll buy that?”

Seeing the two about to flare up again, Xian should’ve been worried, but time had washed the fear out of it. There’s a saying: hitting shows closeness, scolding hides love. She thought of that and looked at the two of them, then nodded like someone who’d just glimpsed the future.

“Sis, they say only couples fight like you two. So you’re a couple now, right? When’s the wedding?” One line cracked like thunder over clear water. Xi and Ouyang froze. Xi glared at Ouyang, teeth grinding like flint. He shot her a glance and shuffled back, ready for the storm.

It didn’t break. She only snorted and let the wind take it.

“Strange. So strange…” Ouyang couldn’t make sense of it. He kept repeating himself like a spell that wouldn’t catch.