The Tranquility Before The Chaos

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Wei Ying POV

Rage ignites a fire in Wei Ying's veins as he lays eyes on the ruby choker draped over the young girl's shoulders. Fear trails down his spine like icy fingers clawing their way into his paralyzed body when he realizes there are more jewels on it than when he was forced to wear it. They dangle from the black silk web crisscrossing her pale chest like bloody tears. Hysteria triggers the resentful energy in his black core to surge the moment he sees Wen Zhuliu holding the artifact that can both rob him of his power or turn it against everyone on the field.

His emotions buzz inside his head. It's so difficult to focus on their plan. Images of the Nightless City arena bear down on him like a massive weight trying to crush him. The memories of terrified screams and taunting cheers drown out everything else fighting for his attention.

When the girl opens her eyes, Wei Ying can't find his next breath. It's as if he's looking into the eyes of a living ghost. Her youth is shadowed by the pain on her face, the pinch of her eyes, the deep furrow of her brow.

Out of the corner of his eye, Wei Ying sees Lan Zhan take a step back. Reality gives him a hard slap in the face and he quickly reaches out to take his husband's hand. Golden eyes wide with shock look over at him and Wei Ying threads their fingers together for courage.

"A-Qing, why don't you say hello to our hosts?" Wen Zhuliu says with a dangerous smirk.

Even though his words are meant for everyone, his gaze specifically targets Wei Ying. It's unrelenting and cold, filled with vengeance.

"It is an honor to meet the Yiling Laozu." A-Qing says quietly, her head bowed low.

Wen Zhuliu nods as well. "And I am honored to be in the presence of the legendary Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan."

The two older cultivators step forward, their swords already drawn.

"We have heard much about you, as well, Core-Melting Hand." Song Lan says with bitterness.

Wei Ying tries pulling Lan Zhan behind him but his jade remains protectively by his side.

The young girl on the black mare shifts uncomfortably in her saddle. Her left hand reaches up to touch the necklace around her thin neck, her fingertips brushing lightly over the large stone hanging from the center of the leather choker.

Wei Ying's heart breaks for her. He can still feel the teeth of that cursed adornment sinking into his skin, feel its cold, dead weight draped over his shoulders.

How many lives has he forced you to take? How many times has the darkness claimed your soul and forced you to draw blood? How many times have you cried out for it to stop only to be possessed with a hunger to kill?

Through ghastly eyes, the young woman silently pleads with Wei Ying.

A plea he cannot and will not refuse.

"Surrender now and your lives will be spared." Xiao Xingchen declares.

"Funny, I was just about to say the same thing to you." Wen Zhuliu replies casually. "In fact, all I really want is the young Wei heir. The rest of you are free to leave, if you so choose."

His eyes settle on Wei Ying with a calculating confidence.

Lan Zhan steps defiantly in front of Wei Ying. "He is not yours."

The deep threatening voice rumbling out of Lan Zhan is a warning wrapped in a promise. White robes flutter slowly with the frosty early morning breeze, curling around Wei Ying as if they, too, want to protect him. Silky sandalwood scented hair twists gracefully in the wind, blocking his dancer's view of the man who wants to take him away again. Bichen rattles in its scabbard, a snake ready to strike down any who dare touch Lan Zhan's soulmate.

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