The sky, like an ink stain, hung low, as if crushed beneath the threatening weight of dark, leaden clouds. Even the sun's feeble rays dared not pierce this dense curtain, condemning the valley to a gloomy twilight. The wind, passing through the needle-like leaves of ancient pine trees, hummed an ominous song, accompanied by a faint, chilling wolf's howl carried from afar. These sounds further solidified the valley's eerie atmosphere, sending an indescribable shiver down the spine of anyone who listened.
This was the Whispering Serpent Valley. It had earned its name from the narrow passes that snaked between the rocks like coiling serpents and from its winding paths that produced sounds akin to hissing snakes when the wind blew. For centuries, this place, believed to be the abode of terrifying legends, the whispers of lost souls, and dark entities, was a geography that ordinary people feared to tread, more often the final destination for adventurers or the desperate. Two colossal rocks, shaped by the merciless blows of time and nature, marked the valley's entrance like two sentinels guarding the gates of hell. The moss and ivy clinging to them lent an even more ancient and frightening air.
In the midst of this bleak and uncanny atmosphere, three figures advanced with cautious and silent steps, as if carrying an invisible weight. The one walking in front was in his mid, perhaps late, twenties. He was tall and athletically built; every step was measured and resolute. His sharp, chiseled facial features were framed by an expression that rarely betrayed his emotions. His cold and distant gaze, reminiscent of a hawk surveying its prey, scanned every corner, every shadow of the valley, trying to perceive the slightest movement, the faintest sound. The sky-blue, almost ice-colored robe he wore fit him impeccably. This color, and the cloud and mountain peak motif on the chest of his robe, were the undisputed symbols of the Heavenly Summit Sect (天峰派 - Tian Feng Pai) to which he belonged. The sect, named after the Heavenly Summit Mountain whose peak was snow-capped year-round, was known for its inaccessibility and strict discipline. The ebony hilt of the sword at his waist possessed a smoothness and a matte sheen, clearly indicating it had been gripped countless times by an experienced warrior, and had flashed in innumerable clashes. The sword itself was masterfully forged from a mystical metal that seemed to absorb light, with fine veins running across its surface. This young man was Leng Chen (冷尘 - "Cold Dust"), one of his sect's most talented, most disciplined, and perhaps most feared disciples. Like his name, his spirit seemed coated with a thin layer of ice; he was devoid of emotion, or at least appeared to be. The expression on his face was like a mask carved from marble; it bore no sign of fear, excitement, or curiosity. There was only the composure of a hunter focused on his duty, locked onto his target.
A few steps behind Leng Chen walked Zhang Hao (张浩), who appeared a few years younger. Unlike Leng Chen, a suppressed energy, a kind of eagerness, could be sensed in Zhang Hao's movements and gaze. He drew attention with his broad shoulders and strong build, but the boyish expression on his face and the curious glint in his eyes showed that he had not yet fully matured. He tightly gripped the sword in his hand, which was more ornate than Leng Chen's, its hilt adorned with jade. He was on alert as if expecting to encounter danger at any moment, but this alertness seemed to stem more from excitement and a desire to prove himself. The valley's eerie atmosphere had affected him; he frequently looked around, searching for invisible threats, and sometimes glanced sideways at Leng Chen with an expression mixing admiration and envy for his calmness. He was not new to the Heavenly Summit Sect, but going on a mission with a Senior Brother like Leng Chen was both an honor and a great responsibility for him.
The last of the trio was Li Ming (李明). Although roughly the same age as Zhang Hao, he possessed a much calmer, more introverted, and observant temperament. He was of medium build and quite lean. He placed his steps carefully, almost as if listening to the whispers of the earth, examining the surrounding flora, the marks on tree barks, and the faint signs on the ground. His eyes were intelligent and inquisitive; his respect for Leng Chen was evident in his every demeanor, but this respect reflected an appreciation for his Senior Brother's abilities and knowledge rather than blind obedience. Within the sect, Li Ming was known more for his skills in strategy, tracking, and knowledge of nature than for his swordsmanship. His silence was a sign of his constantly working mind; he spoke more with his observations than with words.
They walked for a while longer, accompanied only by the rustle of dry leaves and thin branches crushed under their boots, the howl of the wind, and occasionally, that ominous wolf's cry from the distance. Silence was like a heavy, suffocating blanket draped over the valley.
"Senior Brother Leng," Zhang Hao finally whispered, unable to hide the impatience and nervousness in his voice. His voice came out higher pitched than usual. "This valley... it truly is as sinister as they say. I have a bad, indescribable feeling. It's as if... as if something is watching us." His eyes scanned the surroundings anxiously.
Leng Chen, without turning his head, replied in an icy voice. His voice was as sharp and devoid of emotion as the cold wind of the valley. "Trust your observations and your logic, Zhang Hao, not your feelings. We are here to find the source of that 'malevolent aura,' that 'ominous entity' the headman of the nearby village and other villagers have been talking about for weeks, and if necessary, to destroy it. Animals in the villages are disappearing one by one, crops are inexplicably wilting, and people are falling ill with strange, incomprehensible diseases. Some even claim to have nightmares, to see shadows following them. Our sect has been tasked with ending such disorders, with protecting the peace of the people. This is our responsibility."
Li Ming interjected with his usual calmness. His voice, unlike Zhang Hao's, was more measured and thoughtful. "Senior Brother Leng, when I spoke with the villagers, they said these events were not the work of an ordinary bandit gang or a wild animal, but rather the doing of a supernatural entity, a demon, or a malevolent spirit. Some elders even spoke of ancient legends mentioning a hidden passage in the deepest parts of the valley, leading to a small, sealed demon realm, its location long forgotten." Even as he spoke, Li Ming did not cease observing his surroundings.
Upon these words, Leng Chen slowed his pace and paused for a moment. He fixed his gaze on the eerie depths of the valley, which was growing darker, where mists had begun to descend. There, where the trees grew denser and the shadows deepened, it was as if a gateway to another world existed. "Rumors and legends," he said in a thoughtful voice, "are usually an exaggerated, distorted reflection of the truth, Li Ming. People's fears, their anxiety about the unknown, feed such stories. However, there might be a grain of truth beneath every rumor. Therefore, we will not let our guard down. If there is indeed demonic activity, it is our primary duty to find it and eradicate it. This is the very reason for the Heavenly Summit Sect's existence."
In Leng Chen's mind, the harsh and uncompromising words of Leng Tianjue (冷天绝 - "Cold Heavenly Absoluteness"), the Leader of the Heavenly Summit Sect and also his father, echoed. From a young age, his father had trained him to suppress his emotions, to act solely with logic and a sense of duty. "Remember, Leng Chen," his father would say, his voice as cold as ice, devoid of any warmth, "As xiulian practitioners, we are obligated to maintain the delicate balance of the world. Demons, ghosts, malevolent spirits, and other dark entities are nefarious elements that seek to disrupt this balance, to bring chaos and destruction. The slightest mercy, the slightest hesitation shown towards them is weakness. And weakness means endangering both yourself and the innocents you have sworn to protect." These words from his father had become an invisible but heavy burden on Leng Chen's shoulders. This burden had pushed him to bury his emotions deep, to build insurmountable walls between himself and others, to become merely a flawless warrior, an instrument that executed the sect's orders without question.
Yet sometimes, very rarely, especially in such eerie and solitary moments, he would feel something stir deep beneath that icy shell. Perhaps it was a warmth he once possessed but had long forgotten, suppressed. Perhaps it was a faint memory of his mother's compassionate smile, unlike his father's sternness. But these feelings were so weak, so fleeting, that Leng Chen would immediately push them back into the dark recesses of his mind. Emotions were merely a burden for a xiulian practitioner.
They walked on in absolute silence for a while longer. Only the sound of dry leaves crushed under their boots, the crackling of thin twigs breaking, and the ominous whisper of the wind in the treetops could be heard. The valley seemed to be holding its breath, watching them pass. Leng Chen instinctively checked the hilt of his sword. Years of brutal training had turned him into a weapon: emotionless, effective, and lethal. When his fingers touched the cold metal of the hilt, he felt a kind of relief, a sense of belonging. His sword was his only true friend, his only assurance.
Zhang Hao suddenly froze in place. He seemed to have lost his breath. "Senior Brother! Senior Brother Leng! Look... look over there!" His voice trembled with a mixture of fear and excitement. He pointed towards a faint, pale path, difficult to notice at first glance, amidst dense and thorny bushes. The entrance to the path was almost completely obscured by the leaves of a giant vine. But what was truly striking was a strange, dark, almost black stain on the damp earth right at the entrance of the path. The stain looked fresh and emitted a faint, metallic odor.
Leng Chen quickly approached the spot Zhang Hao indicated. He was not as excited as the others, but the attention in his eyes had intensified. He bent down and carefully examined the stain on the ground. He lightly touched the stain with his gloved fingertips. The spot he touched was sticky and warm. Then he brought his finger to his nose and sniffed. A rare expression appeared on his face; a kind of certainty mixed with disgust. "This... this is undoubtedly demon blood. And quite fresh. Perhaps a few hours old, maybe less." His gaze sharpened instantly, filled with the instinct of a hunter scanning the surroundings. "They are nearby. Or at least, one has passed through here recently."
Li Ming also looked around carefully. He too bent down and examined the bloodstain, even checking the consistency of the stain with a small twig. "Senior Brother Leng is right. The blood hasn't clotted yet. But... there's something strange." His brows furrowed slightly. "The aura is intensifying here, Senior Brother. That malevolent energy seems to be coming from within this path. But... strangely, it's not a pure evil energy. It's as if... as if there's a pain, a sorrow within it. Very faint, but I can feel it."
Leng Chen ignored Li Ming's intuitive comment, or at least appeared to. For him, a demon was a demon; whether it suffered or not did not change the nature of his mission. "A demon is a demon, Li Ming. We will not fall for their tricks, their emotional manipulations. Their appearing to suffer could be another of their ploys to lure us into a trap. Focus on our mission. Zhang Hao, you go first, clear the way, but watch every step, be alert for the slightest trap. Li Ming, you cover the rear, check our tracks, and be vigilant for any possible ambush points in the surroundings. I will be in the middle."
The trio began to advance along the narrow and dangerous path, following Leng Chen's orders. As the trees grew denser, their branches intertwined, almost completely blocking the sky and preventing sunlight from seeping through. The environment became even dimmer, the humidity increased, and the air was filled with the heavy scent of decaying leaves and earth. The feeling that danger could spring from the shadows, from among the dense leaves, at any moment, heightened the tension in their hearts. Zhang Hao, leading the way, held his sword in front of him, frequently stopping to listen to his surroundings. Li Ming, coming from behind, carefully examined every bush, every rock crevice, his steps almost silent. Leng Chen's heart beat rhythmically with its usual composure, but his fingers gripped the hilt of his sword tighter, more resolutely.
After about half an hour's walk, the path unexpectedly widened, confronting them with an entirely different face of the valley they had never seen before. This place was the complete opposite of the gloomy and eerie atmosphere outside; it was like a hidden corner of paradise. The sound of a clear stream, gurgling cheerfully, was like music playing the most beautiful melodies. Colorful, exotic flowers of a kind they had never seen before and rare medicinal herbs exuded a dizzying, sweet fragrance. Butterflies with a thousand colors on their wings danced above the flowers, and tiny, brightly feathered birds chirped joyfully, flitting from branch to branch. Sunlight had somehow managed to reach here, filtering through the leaves and creating golden speckles on the lush green grass below. In the middle of this small, hidden oasis, a charming, two-story bamboo hut, elegantly constructed, stood tall. The hut was surrounded by a small, obviously well-tended garden. Medicinal herbs, vegetables, and fruit trees grew together in harmony in the garden.
In the midst of this peaceful scene, in the shade of a broad-leaved plant in front of the hut, a young woman was bent over, tenderly and compassionately bandaging the bleeding leg of a small, wounded fox cub. Her light green, silky dress, reminiscent of the fresh shoots of spring, billowed gently in the breeze, adding a distinct grace to her movements. Her long, raven-black, glossy hair cascaded down to her waist, a few rebellious strands framing her face, falling onto her forehead and cheeks, further emphasizing her innocent beauty. This young woman was Mei Lin (媚琳 - "Charming Jade"). Her eyes were as large, innocent, and warm as a doe's; they held a deep compassion, understanding, and perhaps an indescribable sorrow. Despite being a demon – she hailed from an ancient and peaceful lineage of flower spirits, now on the brink of extinction – there wasn't the slightest trace of malice or destruction in her nature. On the contrary, she harbored an infinite love and compassion for even the smallest insect. Her very presence brought life and peace to this small oasis.
After carefully finishing the bandaging of the wounded fox cub, she gently lifted it from the ground, taking care not to hurt it, and laid it on a soft bed made of dry moss she had spread on the hut's veranda. "There you go, little friend," she whispered, her voice as soft and soothing as the murmur of a stream. "In a few days, you'll be completely healed and able to run freely in the forest again. But until then, you're safe here." The fox cub looked at her with grateful eyes before burying its head in the moss.
Just then, a tiny, colorful bird landed on her shoulder as lightly as a feather. This was Xiao Cui (小翠 - "Little Jade"), Mei Lin's loyal friend, confidante, and closest assistant, a talking, intelligent, and somewhat flustered young woodpecker spirit. Xiao Cui's feathers shone like jewels, and the sounds emanating from its tiny beak were like a cheerful melody.
"Lady Mei Lin," chirped Xiao Cui, but this time there was no trace of its usual cheerfulness in its voice; instead, there was a distinct anxiety and fear. It constantly turned its tiny head around, restlessly flapping its wings. "I sense auras coming from outside the valley, from that ominous pass. Three of them... They are very strong... and very cold. Just like... just like those self-proclaimed apostles of 'righteousness,' the sword-wielding warriors." The sarcasm and disdain in Xiao Cui's voice as it said "righteousness warriors" were almost palpable.
The peaceful smile on Mei Lin's face instantly faded at Xiao Cui's words. Her gaze instinctively turned towards the valley entrance, towards that dark and ominous path. An old wound, which had scabbed over years ago, throbbed painfully in her heart. Years ago, when she was just a tiny seedling, her family, her tribe, and all her loved ones had been brutally slaughtered by ruthless, frenzied xiulian practitioners fighting in the name of "righteousness," in the name of "cleansing the world of demons." She had been the sole survivor of that horrific massacre, thanks to a hollow where her mother had hidden her with a final effort. The images of that bloody day, the screams, the smell of their burning homes, were still vivid in her mind. Since that day, she had sworn to stay far, far away from humans and their selfish, cruel understanding of "righteousness." This valley, this hidden paradise, was a sanctuary for her, a sacred haven where she protected wounded and weak souls, offering them healing.
"Don't worry, Xiao Cui," Mei Lin said, trying to instill confidence and serenity into her voice, though her heart was pounding as if it would burst from her chest. "This is our home. I will not allow anyone to disturb the peace here, the safety of the innocent lives here."
But deep down, she could feel those cold, sharp, and threatening auras relentlessly approaching. And this feeling whispered to her, one by one, the bloody, painful memories of the past. Her trauma was hidden like a thorn rooted deep in her heart; whenever she sensed the presence of a xiulian practitioner, their arrogant and cold aura, that thorn would begin to bleed anew, to poison her soul.
Mei Lin quickly entered the bamboo hut. The interior of the hut was as peaceful and orderly as its exterior. The walls were covered with carefully dried medicinal herbs, enchanted plants, and rare flowers, hung in bunches. A soothing scent of lavender, chamomile, and sandalwood filled the air. On a low, round table in the center of the room lay an old book with worn edges, written in an ancient language, and several parchment scrolls. These were priceless writings inherited from her ancestors, containing the wisdom of ancient spirits, the arts of healing, the secrets of nature, and illusion techniques. Mei Lin was not only a powerful flower spirit but also a master healer and nature mage, self-taught through these writings. She used her demonic powers – controlling nature, animating plants, healing, and creating harmless illusions to protect herself when necessary – only and solely for good, to help those in need. For her, power meant protection, not domination.
Xiao Cui anxiously flew back and forth around Mei Lin, rapidly flapping its tiny wings. "Lady Mei Lin, what are we going to do? If they... if they find out who you really are... If they find out you're the last surviving flower spirit from that massacre... I don't even want to think about what they'll do to you!" Its voice trembled with fear.
Mei Lin took a deep breath. She closed her eyes and focused on the power within her, the life energy flowing through her veins. A faint, emerald-green light emanating from her fingertips softly illuminated the room. This light made the surrounding plants look more vibrant, and even a wilted flower on the table seemed to slightly revive. "Calm down, dear Xiao Cui," she said, her voice now more resolute and strong."First, we must understand their intentions. Perhaps they are just innocent travelers who have lost their way and need help." But she herself didn't believe this possibility in the slightest. Those cold, sharp, and purposeful auras resembled hungry wolves on the hunt. And the prey was likely her.
Just then, the voice of Old Willow Grandpa (柳公公 - Liǔ Gōnggōng), the spirit of the imposing and ancient willow tree next to the hut, who was a bit grumpy but kind-hearted at his core, echoed directly in Mei Lin's mind: "Little Mistress, be careful. The newcomers are not ordinary travelers. Their auras are very familiar... They are from the Heavenly Summit Sect. Their swords are sharp, their intentions dark, and their hearts colder than ice. Especially the young one in the lead... His aura is very strong and very... ruthless."
Mei Lin's face grew even more serious, the anxiety in her eyes deepening. The Heavenly Summit Sect... Even its name was enough to make her hair stand on end. Their ruthlessness, their deep-seated hatred for demons and other beings they labeled as "dark," was legendary throughout the realms. The ones who had taken the lives of her mother, her father, all her loved ones, were probably from that sect, or at least xiulian practitioners of the same mindset. That old wound in her heart was now bleeding even more severely.
"Thank you, Old Willow Grandpa," Mei Lin whispered gratefully. Old Willow Grandpa had been looking out for her for years, one of her biggest supporters in this valley. Then she turned to Xiao Cui. "Little friend, quickly inform the other spirits in the valley. Especially the small, defenseless ones. No one should be seen, everyone must hide. I will speak with the newcomers. I will try to stall them."
Xiao Cui hesitated, its tiny eyes filled with tears. "But Lady... This is too dangerous! What if they harm you? I can't leave you alone!"
"Don't worry," Mei Lin said, stroking Xiao Cui's head with a forced smile. "Remember, I'm not as delicate and defenseless as I look. The power of my ancestors flows in my veins." In her eyes, alongside compassion and sorrow, shone a steely determination, an unshakeable will. She was ready to give her all, even her own life if necessary, to protect this valley, this last sanctuary, and the innocent lives within it. "Now go, quickly!"
Xiao Cui, after hesitating for another moment, wiped its tears and flew swiftly out of the hut. Its task was heavy, but it trusted Lady Mei Lin.
When Mei Lin was alone, she took another deep breath. She wiped her hands on the hem of her dress. Her heart was still pounding wildly, but her mind was clear. She had to maintain her composure, no matter what. Maybe... maybe she could talk to them and explain that it was all a misunderstanding. Maybe not all of them were evil. This hope, however faint, gave her strength. With each step, invoking the courage and wisdom inherited from her ancestors, she walked towards the door of the hut.
Meanwhile, Leng Chen and his companions stood at the entrance of the hidden oasis, examining the surroundings with a mixture of astonishment and admiration. This lush, vibrant place, standing like a dream in the middle of the gloomy, eerie valley, had dumbfounded them. The murmur of the stream, the cheerful chirping of birds, and the fragrant flower scent wafting through the air had, for a moment, swept away all thoughts that this could be a demon's lair, the dwelling of a malevolent entity.
Zhang Hao whispered, his eyes wide with admiration. "This place... this is incredibly beautiful. Like a corner of paradise. I can't believe a demon could live in such a place, in such peace. Maybe... maybe we came to the wrong place, Senior Brother?"
Li Ming, as always, was more skeptical and cautious. He was not deceived by the beauty. "Don't be fooled by appearances, Zhang Hao. Remember, the most dangerous demons are those who can assume the most innocent and attractive guises. They can resort to any trick, any illusion to lure their victims into a trap. Senior Brother Leng, that strong demonic aura is definitely coming from here, from where that bamboo hut is. And it's very strong, almost palpable." Li Ming's gaze was locked on the hut.
Leng Chen carefully scanned the surroundings, committing every detail to memory. His eyes fell on the elegant bamboo hut, the well-tended garden surrounding it, and the colorful flowers by the stream. Everything looked so peaceful, so innocent, so... normal. However, the strong, ancient demonic aura he felt told him that something was hidden behind this deceptive innocence, that danger was lurking. This aura was unlike the auras of the crude demons he had encountered before, those seeking only destruction and chaos; it was more complex, deeper, like a mixture of ancient power, profound melancholy, and perhaps suppressed rage, rather than pure evil. This situation confused Leng Chen's analytical mind; it was a situation he had never encountered before. However, he had no intention of compromising his principles and the training he had received. He would do whatever his duty required.
"Spread out," Leng Chen commanded, his voice as cold and authoritative as ever. "Surround the hut from three sides. I will approach from the front. Whoever or whatever is inside, I will tell them to surrender without resistance. If they dare to resist... then we will do what is necessary."
Zhang Hao and Li Ming nodded in unquestioning obedience to their Senior Brother's command and silently moved in different directions. Zhang Hao, with his sword drawn and an expression mixing excitement and tension, headed towards the right side of the hut, while Li Ming, with more cautious steps, slipped into the trees on the left side. Leng Chen waited a moment longer, took a deep breath, and then slowly, with each step measured and resolute, began to walk towards the hut. His steps made almost no sound on the ground. He instinctively brought his hand to the hilt of his sword, his fingers gripping the cold metal. He was ready to draw his sword at the slightest sign of a threat.
As he approached the few steps leading to the hut's wooden veranda, just as he was about to call out, the bamboo door creaked open slowly, and Mei Lin stepped outside.
When Leng Chen saw the young woman standing before him, perhaps for the first time in his life, he hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do. This was not the terrifying, sharp-toothed, fire-breathing demon he had expected. On the contrary, she was a being as delicate as moonlight, as fresh and beautiful as spring flowers. Her light green, simple yet elegant dress billowed gently in the wind, vaguely revealing the lines of her slender body. The innocent, almost childlike expression on her face had a warming, disarming effect. However, Leng Chen knew that this captivating beauty could be a deadly trap, that the most dangerous weapon of demons was often the mask of innocence. Therefore, the icy cold expression in his eyes did not change in the slightest. He immediately suppressed the momentary irregularity in his heartbeat.
"Who are you?" Leng Chen asked, his voice emotionless, distant, and questioning. The words fell from his mouth like shards of ice. "What are you doing in this forbidden valley? What is the reason for your presence here?"
Mei Lin was inwardly terrified by the young man's icy gaze, the hostility in his voice, and the fact that he never once let his hand leave the hilt of his sword. Her heart pounded with fear, and her palms were sweating. However, she tried not to show her fear, her anxiety, to stand tall. These men were of the same kind as her family's murderers; showing them weakness meant signing her own death warrant. "I am Mei Lin," she said, making a great effort to keep her voice from trembling, taking care to make it sound calm and clear. "This is my home. Who are you, and why have you entered my land, my living space, without my permission, with such a hostile attitude?"
Leng Chen was inwardly surprised by Mei Lin's direct, accusatory question and her unexpectedly self-assured, even defiant, demeanor. Usually, demons or other dark entities, upon seeing the imposing members of the Heavenly Summit Sect, especially someone of his high rank, would either cower in fear, beg for mercy, or attack with senseless rage. This young woman, however, appeared neither frightened nor aggressive; on the contrary, she spoke with a righteous anger and a wounded pride. This situation upended Leng Chen's expectations, but he showed nothing outwardly.
"We are from the Heavenly Summit Sect," Leng Chen said, deliberately emphasizing the authority in his voice and the weight carried by his sect's name. "We are here to investigate the mysterious ailments, the disappearing animals, and the sickening people that have plagued the nearby villages for weeks. A strong, ominous demonic aura led us directly here, to this hidden oasis of yours. That aura... does that unsettling energy originate from you? Tell the truth." His gaze was locked on Mei Lin's eyes, searching for the slightest sign of a lie.
Upon hearing the name "Heavenly Summit Sect," Mei Lin's heart began to flutter like a bird in her chest. Her worst fears had come true. These men were not just ordinary xiulian practitioners, but the most ruthless, the most notorious of demon hunters. Even if they weren't the murderers of her parents, they carried the same mentality, the same hatred. But she would not back down. She swallowed her fear, her chin held high. "Yes," she said honestly, her voice trembling slightly but maintaining its determination. "This aura, this energy belongs to me. But I swear to you, I have absolutely nothing to do with those unfortunate events in the villages, those ailments. I am a peaceful being. I would never harm any living creature in this valley, any human. On the contrary, I try to help them."
Just then, Zhang Hao, who had emerged from the trees on the right side of the hut, interjected with an impatient and angry voice. His face was flushed with the excitement and hatred of confronting a demon. "She's lying, Senior Brother Leng! All demons are inherently liars and deceivers! The 'Charming Demon,' the 'Monster Who Seduces People with Her Beauty' that the villagers described must be her! She deceives people with her innocent and beautiful appearance and then takes their souls or lives!" Zhang Hao brandished his sword threateningly towards Mei Lin.
Mei Lin was deeply hurt by Zhang Hao's rude and unjust accusation. Her eyes welled up, but she forced herself not to cry. "That's not true! This is a terrible slander!" she protested, her voice now louder and more fragile. "I haven't deceived anyone, I haven't taken anyone's life or soul! On the contrary, this valley is a place where I provide sanctuary and healing to wounded and needy souls, abandoned animals, and even sometimes lost humans. Please believe me."
Leng Chen gestured sharply at Zhang Hao to be silent. Zhang Hao, though surprised by his Senior Brother's unexpected reaction, immediately fell silent and took a step back. Leng Chen's eyes were still on Mei Lin. The sincerity in this young woman's words, the pure and wounded expression in her eyes, had created a tiny crack in Leng Chen's rigid, prejudiced walls. But this crack was so small that even he himself was not aware of it. "If you are truly innocent, if your words are true, you must prove it," Leng Chen said, his voice somewhat softer, but still distant. "You must agree to come with us to the headquarters of the Heavenly Summit Sect and be interrogated there by our Leader and the Council of Elders. Only then can we believe in your innocence."
At Leng Chen's words, Mei Lin's face turned as white as a sheet, as if all the blood had drained from her. To go to the headquarters of the Heavenly Summit Sect... This meant preparing her own end, surrendering herself to her executioner. Their understanding of "justice" meant only torture and death for demons. No matter how much she proclaimed her innocence there, no one would believe her. The only thing that mattered to them was that she was a demon. "No," she said resolutely, trying to suppress the tremor in her voice. "I am innocent, and I have no intention of entering your terrifying dungeons, of enduring your tortures, to prove it. This is my home, my sanctuary, and I will not go anywhere from here. If you truly seek justice, you can question me here, on my own land."
Leng Chen's brows furrowed instantly. This was open disobedience, a rebellion against the authority of his sect. That tiny crack within him immediately closed, replaced again by that icy coldness. "Then," he said, his voice now even colder, more threatening than before, "you will force us to use power." He slowly, almost ceremonially, drew his hand from the hilt of his sword and slowly, smoothly, unsheathed his blade. The bright, sharp metal of the sword gleamed menacingly even in the dim light, casting a cold light around.
Mei Lin also assumed a defensive posture in the face of this open threat. She did not step back. She joined her hands in front of her, and a bright emerald-green light, fed by the life energy she drew from the surrounding plants and earth, began to emanate from her fingertips. This light was like a protective shield surrounding her. "I warn you for the last time," she said, the softness in her voice completely gone, replaced by a steely will, an unshakeable determination. "If you dare to harm me, this valley, or the innocent lives here, you will pay the price. I will resist with all my strength."
The tension was palpable. The wind had stopped, the cheerful chirping of the birds had ceased, and even the murmur of the stream had become inaudible. There were only the sharp, locked gazes of the two sides and the silent challenge hanging in the air. This hidden paradise of the Whispering Serpent Valley was preparing to be the silent witness of an inevitable and perhaps bloody conflict about to erupt.
(END OF CHAPTER ONE)