For a moment, Mei Ying stared at Jian Yu, who stood to the side without a word. His hands were pristine, free of blood, but his black boots were dotted with red. The young man was expressionless, with bangs covering one eye.

Books were all scattered around Mei Ying and her friend, with pages opened or folded. Behind the young Third Official and the First Judge was the soaring-high desk, overturned like a bowl, and the gigantic chair swept aside. The towering bookshelf that spanned from side to side of the entire room was completely cluttered as though a windstorm had ripped through the area, leaving nothing tidy behind.

Well, it seemed that the split cracks of the tiled floor never had the time to recover.

“Jian Jian...” Earlier, the huntress could not articulate her thoughts in the dining room. Still, she felt that something should be said about the mess that Jian Yu made.

A light shimmered over the other’s red eyes as he raised his head.

“I’m alright.” The huntress raised her broad sleeves into the air. “See?” She gradually twirled around for further assurance. “This one is completely unharmed.”

Mei Ying cannot force anyone to change themselves, but she needs to address the issue if no one is going to.

Jian Yu has been the Netherworld’s current Demon King for many centuries, a position that was said to have been disputed and dueled over a hundred times. Like a wolf, he had to bear his fangs and claws more than he had probably liked. Habits are difficult to break in the environment that is attributed to the result that laid before the huntress: a room of chaos and severed fingers twitching in its dark puddle of blood.

However, her friend likes to look after the useless, cursed Song Mei Ying. When she does not make trouble, he creates it. What she does not have, he gives it. Where she can rest, he’s already prepared it.

What a strange person...

“Hurting others will not answer our questions.” Mei Ying scratched the back of her head and laughed awkwardly, “We do not have a lot of time. Let us make the best of this, alright?”

Upon hearing this, Jian Yu’s pupils contracted. He appeared as though he wanted to speak; yet, the young man only tightened his jaw.

The Spring God, Qing Di, had stated that Song Mei Ying was the cursed seventh incarnation of a Heaven Immortal. She would not live past twenty years unless she fulfills her chosen role in the prophesied war between the two strongest realms.

That means...in less than a year, the war will inevitably erupt.

A thought bloomed in Mei Ying’s mind: So, taking what the young Shao Qing had said about the Dragon Hero sword and her being the Child of Red Omen, that would make Mei Ying the wild card of the game. Whoever has her in their hand is presumed to have the best advantage. Whatever she chooses to do...will affect either the Heaven realm or the Netherworld. Ultimately, she may decide the final outcome.

“Why don’t we look at the contract together?” When Mei Ying mentioned it, the elongated, golden scroll emerged in front of her, opening up the starting set of terms and agreements. The rest unfurled to the floor up to the pair of heavy doors, creaked ajar. “Yes, First Judge forced me to sign the Soul Bargain contract, but look here…”

She leaned toward the scroll and pointed at the specific line of inked characters. Still, the young man did not move. Is the wolf afraid of the rabbit’s bite?

Mei Ying waved him over. “Can Jian Jian come over and help me see if I have interpreted this correctly? What if First Judge really did cheat me, ah?”

At once, Jian Yu silently approached the huntress and looked over her shoulder, reading the golden contract that glistened.

“Why don’t you ask this elder?!” inquired First Judge, with his arm still swung over Shao Qing’s neck and shoulder. “I was the one who wrote it, child!”

“Right now, you are the one whom I trust the least in this room.” Mei Ying clucked her tongue in the same way that Jian Yu and Xiao Li did when they were irritated. “If I had not arrived, who knows how long you would have been pinned to the floor, bleeding out like that?”

Jian Yu exchanged glances with the teenage Third Official as Mei Ying scanned over the scroll, unrolling it for more information.

“You…!” First Judge’s face flushed hotly. “Your mouth! My gods, that mouth of yours is the one that gets you in trouble all the ti--”

With a simple turn of Shao Qing’s head, a glowing scroll slapped across the person’s mouth as if to seal his lips off forever. Muffled screaming was all that could be heard.

“First Judge...” Without straying her sight from the glowing contract, the huntress said, “Since you like to talk so much, why don’t you tell this ignorant mortal everything about the Flower Immortals?”

The young Third Official tilted his head. Instantly, the magical talisman peeled off halfway for First Judge to speak. Except the man shook his head, turning paler and paler by the passing second.

“That lantern you have on the floor there…” Mei Ying carried on, “...has a painting of a woman in all-red, with crimson chrysanthemums in her arm. According to my shifu’s teachings on the main cultivation world, a chrysanthemum is the flower of the ninth lunar month, right?”

“Answer her.” Without looking up from the scroll, Jian Yu ordered, “First Judge.”

“Y-Yes, Mei Ying is right… That woman in the painting...is the Ninth Flower Immortal.”

“Are there still Twelve Flower Immortals under both the Flower Goddess and Spring God’s leadership?” The huntress was even more curious now that First Judge had confirmed her guess to be correct. “I keep hearing about this Ninth Flower Immortal…”

“She is dead.”

“Huh?” Mei Ying glanced over at the person. “What do you mean?”

Nevermind that. How?!

The huntress immediately recalled that it was said that, yes, gods and Immortals are those who have attained Immortality, but it is far more difficult to retain Immortality itself. For without it in their continuous grip, they would be no different from the lowly, weak mortals.

“Ninth Flower Immortal is dead.” First Judge lowered his eyes. “For nearly eight hundred years, the Ninth position has been vacant. That is why the chrysanthemums of the Mortal realm are so small and poor in quality. Barely gold. White like in mourning. It takes a hundred-fold more for a person to produce a decent tea of that sort now. It’s hard to believe...that once, there were various playful and vibrant colors like their creator.”

He slowly removed his arm from Shao Qing’s neck and shoulder, plopping himself down to the floor. The stubby places on the Judge’s right hand, where a few fingers used to be, had scabbed over. Quickly, the small stumps of flesh were re-growing like tree branches.

Not bad… After eating the crimson flower, this old man’s pain sensors were numbed like cool ice. He was regenerating faster than he had anticipated. Not bad at all.

So, what Shifu told me...about his old friend was true. She is dead. Mei Ying observed First Judge crossing his legs.

She went on, “The Flower Goddess operates under the Spring God, Qing Di…”

“Prince Qing Di, mind you…” The Judge massaged the area between his brows with his left hand. “No, she did not replace the Ninth Flower Immortal because that dragon was adamant on keeping that position vacant!” He paused, noticing Mei Ying’s gaze. “But...that’s another story for some other time.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s no good even if I told you why!” Though he was aware of the young woman’s shifty brows, First Judge evaded her stare and lowered his hand. “A-About this Flower of Healing that you fed me, what else have you meddled with?”

Then, since the dragon prince keeps stalking her, maybe Mei Ying should ask him about it next time. Keeping mental note of this, the huntress did not press on the matter anymore.

“Before her untimely demise, my Shaman Hua pushed me to master the Flower of Longevity…” By mentioning this, Mei Ying saw the First Judge’s eyes widened. “...but no matter how they turned out, she was always dissatisfied with the results.” Scratching her head, the huntress added, “Somehow, those flowers do not look right to me as well.”

“What is the purpose of this...Flower of Longevity?” Without looking at the mortal, the man continued, “If the Flower of Healing numbs pain and speeds up the recovery process, what is this advanced cultivation art form supposed to do?”

Mei Ying stilled herself. She did not answer.

Suddenly, everyone else stopped what they were doing.

“You say that as a result of your incredible, innate healing ability, you cannot heal yourself well.” The man went on, “Which means that you are passing on spiritual energy from your own body to heal others. But you are poorly skilled in absorbing spiritual energy from elsewhere to heal your own body while in motion unless it is directed at you.”

What a self-destructive gift.

First Judge kept going, “Furthermore, your late Shaman Hua, a woman with the ability to see into the past, future, and Netherworld...was the one who brought upon this idea of the Flower of Longevity to you. You mentioned your shifu, but they did not bring this cultivation art to your attention.” It was odd. “Sounds like despite two people directing your path, they also had conflicting interests over you.”

Again, Mei Ying did not respond.

“That’s enough.” Jian Yu tossed the lengthy scroll to the floor. “Everything in these terms and agreements checks out with me.” He glowered at First Judge. “How coincidental that six months is the approximate time length for Song Mei Ying to serve the Netherworld...”

“Am I...going to be converted?” The huntress asked her friend, going with the new flow of topics.

“No.” Jian Yu showed off his gleaming storage ring. “Yours was specifically designed to actively balance the yin and yang levels of your body. With your current cultivation rank to withstand the effects of breathing demonic aura and the ring included--acting as a filter--you will not be converted into a demon or any other form of Netherworld inhabitant.” Not under his watch.

“Is that so?” Bringing her matching white jade ring to light, the young woman fiddled with it. The other nodded, and she beamed. “Thank you, Jian Jian. I won’t forget your kindness!”

In the meantime, Shao Qing could not help but gawk at the matching rings...

❁❁❁

Starting tomorrow, Mei Ying was tasked to meditate in the Netherworld for short intervals at a time. It was Jian Yu’s idea for the young woman to adjust herself to the realm’s field of spiritual energy. Definitely not an easy task to pull clean spiritual energy from the surrounding thick demonic aura, otherwise known as ‘resentment.’

Afterward, Mei Ying could begin her new training.

To be truthful, the little disciple has been out of formal practice for so long. As for who her new ‘shifu’ will be, Jian Yu said it would be someone whom he entrusts to be of outstanding principles, martial abilities, cultivation experiences, and many more feats. While the huntress agreed with her friend, she was a bit intimidated.

Where the Hell is Jian Yu going to find such...a demon?

“Is there something wrong?”

On either side of the red carpet were high walls that hung extensive tapestries from the lofty ceiling to about a finger off the ground.

“Xiao Li…” Mei Ying asked, “Why...is Jian Jian so strong?”

“Hah?” Looking back over his shoulder, the servant continued to walk in front of her, “Well...why do you want to be strong? You were not content with being a reclusive cultivator and took on the sub-class, hunter.”

Xiao Li turned away and strolled on. For a moment, he was quiet, with his long braided-ponytail swaying from side to side against the black robe.

“I want to be strong enough to help everyone.” Mei Ying replied.

The servant slowed his steps and looked at one of the upcoming tapestries. “I believe...that too is why he wants to be strong.”

There was a brief period of silence. Xiao Li came to a complete stop in his tracks. “To do that, no matter how much the other two realms try to paint him as a villain, it was an intelligent move on His Highness’ part on the immediate severance of the Netherworld from the Heaven realm’s control and power as well as his construction of the Flaming Forest that surrounds Feng Cheng.”

The huntress did not need to ask why, for the teenager continued, “That is what makes Jian Yu different. He alone took up a sword against the Heaven realm to change his fate.”

“Because...fate is predetermined by Heaven…” Mei Ying murmured. “And to change one’s fate means to confront...no...challenge the gods.”

Without turning around, Xiao Li went on, “So...please, wait a bit longer, Mei Ying.” His voice was slightly heavy, with grievance. The servant’s shoulders shook a bit. “You won’t die, and your letters can be delivered to your father and brother by you alone. No one else!”

It had not occurred to the young woman that such a matter had weighed so much on Xiao Li’s mind. Why, when they first met, the adolescent would roll his eyes at her and snap back like a feral puppy! Now, look at him, running around the huntress and barking at anyone who dared to wrong her… Mei Ying’s heart tugged slightly at it. Though she tried to restrain herself, she was moved by the other’s words and efforts.

Her eyes were warm.

“You too can change your fate!” Xiao Li cried out. “You’re not alone! Your father, your brother, His Highness, me, and even your shifu, wherever they are, are all thinking of you!”

Mei Ying nodded. “Thank you, Xiao Li.”

It was then she noticed that every red tapestry that lined up alongside the walls held the same image: a large gold-stitched outline of one chrysanthemum and one broad maple leaf.

Another curiosity came to her mind as the huntress examined the familiar artwork.

❁❁❁

With the large double doors closed behind her, Mei Ying sighed as she listened for Xiao Li’s receding footsteps. When she looked at her assigned room, the poor maiden was unsure if she should laugh or cry.

At first glance, the bed was quite spacious for Mei Ying, covered by a cream-colored silk blanket and soft pillow of red embroidery. The furniture was also fixed with such wide solid board railings, topped with a matching ceiling and long, flowing translucent curtains and golden trimmings. The bed itself stood on four stubby legs, elevating the soft mattress off from the gold flooring. Each board side was carved with intricate and beautiful wood patterned designs, completed with tall red wooden beams.

Beyond that was a large window of white silk that could open up to the tiled rooftop.

The huntress sighed. She turned at the heel, ready to push the doors open but froze.

Mei Ying.

It was a deep voice, one that sung of sweet green mountains but also those of frozen peaks and ruthless thunderstorms. The typical sternness was still there no matter how far apart or how long the master and student had last seen each other.

Mei Ying’s eyes sprung out hot tears. Her heart tightened. Her red lips trembled.

Song Mei Ying!

The huntress spun around--only to see a peerless man, dressed in a similarly white outer robe, in front of her.

With long, straight copper-red hair and sharp, bright eyes, it was none other than En Lai the Wandering Immortal. The same Heaven Immortal who was granted permission to permanently reside in the Mortal realm and who chose to train the useless mortal girl named Song Mei Ying of the Song clan, the cultivation world’s number one laughingstock.

Mei Ying flicked her white outer robe’s front part aside and dropped down to her knees.

The little disciple’s appearance had changed little, with the same robe, pants, boots, and even the way she wore her accessories.

Quietly, she knelt on the floor before the person, who had disguised himself to meet her and to train her in the cultivation art of the Heaven realm’s path. The person who had to endure countless hardships due to Mei Ying’s bad luck. The person who was like a second father to her, thought to be dead by some.

Shifu… Mei Ying did not think she could ever call someone with that same emotion again.

Despite all her errors though, the shifu’s expression was not one born of anger--but rather of sorrow, with his brows tightly knitted together and the watering eyes. The man clenched his teeth and pursed his lips. It appeared that there was much that he wanted to say.

Why are you crying? The voice was stubbornly cool in the spiritual communication channel, proving that it was never destroyed by the Heaven Immortal.

The young woman sniffled. She was not crying.

Little did Mei Ying know--her cheeks were already streaming with clear rivulets of tears.