—
The forest was silent again.
Only the faint whistle of wind passed through the trees, weaving through the thick mist that curled around their roots like restless spirits.
Three men remained.
All pale.
All shaking.
They stood frozen, staring at the spot where his comrade — leader had fallen — blood still pooling beneath the body, the glint of the sword barely visible through the fog.
He swallowed hard. "What… what just happened?"
—
But before anyone could answer, a quiet sound echoed through the mist — soft, rhythmic steps.
The men turned sharply, swords raised.
And then they saw her.
—
Prince Ling Xi's breathing was shallow, every inhale slicing through his chest like a blade.
His robes were soaked in blood, and his fingers trembled when tried to even move them.
—
He frowned, his jaw tightening.
Who would dare approach now?
A faint glow shimmered through the pale mist.
At first, he thought it was mist reflecting off water—until that light took shape.
A girl?
—
Her hair fell like liquid silver down her back, catching the dim light in a soft gleam.
Her pale-blue eyes glowed faintly, cold yet endlessly deep, like the ocean before dawn.
She wore an orange dress that clung lightly to her form as the forest wind brushed past.
—
The three men who had surrounded him froze.
For a moment, none of them spoke.
Their gazes traveled down her body, their mouths parting in awe.
Was this… a goddess?
A celestial?
A spirit born of frost?
One of them swallowed hard, his lips twitching into a grin.
"Heh… looks like heaven sent us a little gift."
—
The others snickered, their blades lowering slightly as desire replaced caution.
—
Ling Xi lifted his head weakly, his vision blurred from blood loss.
He could barely make out her figure through the fog, but as she stepped closer, her outline became clear.
A girl — young, graceful, delicate — walking straight toward danger.
His brows furrowed.
—
Who was she?
Didn't she see the blades around him?
Didn't she feel the killing intent in the air?
She was either incredibly brave… or a fool.
—
Ling Xi clenched his jaw, trying to scare her off with a glare.
But she didn't even look at him.
Her gaze stayed fixed on the three men, cold and unflinching.
That calm…
That confidence…
It made even him pause.
—
The men, however, were smirking.
She was too beautiful — too tempting.
—
Ling Xi's gaze darkened.
He knew what they were thinking.
Too well— he knew—
"Stay back," he rasped, voice rough but commanding.
The girl's expression didn't change.
She didn't even glance his way.
Her eyes, cold and sharp as shards of crystal, were fixed entirely on the men before her.
—
They didn't even bother to hide the hunger in their eyes.
Mu Xuán's stomach twisted in disgust.
That look — she'd seen it too many times before.
The reason she'd always worn a mask whenever she walked outside.
She hated it.
That gaze that stripped her dignity, her very being — reducing her to a thing.
—
Her lips curled slightly.
Fine.
If they wanted to see what she truly was, then she'd show them.
—
One of the men, reached out a hand toward her flawless skin.
"Come here, beauty—"
—
Suddenly, the ground rumbled softly beneath her feet.
A faint quake — subtle at first, then stronger.
The men stumbled, glancing down in alarm.
"What's happening—?!"
A soft smirk tugged at Mu Xuán's lips.
The forest began to shift.
The mist thickened, turning from pale silver to shimmering white, swirling around her feet like a living thing.
Her hair fluttered as a strange, cold energy began to pulse through the air.
—
One man blinked, his breath catching.
"Her… her skin—"
The faint shimmer of frost began to spread across her arm — skin turning faintly glassy, pale blue veins of light glowing beneath the surface.
Then, a black glove appeared, weaving itself from thin smoke, wrapping around her hand up to her elbow.
The transformation was mesmerizing — and terrifying.
"Wha—what kind of creature…" one stammered, backing away.
—
The other, braver or more foolish, reached out — wanting to touch her again.
The moment his hand neared her skin, Mu Xuán's fingers moved.
Snap.
The sound cracked through the air like thunder.
The man's wrist bent at an unnatural angle.
His scream pierced the forest as he fell to his knees, clutching his broken arm.
"She—she's a monster! The forest monster pretending to be a girl!!" he cried out, voice hoarse with terror.
—
The others froze.
For the first time, true fear filled their eyes.
"Attack her!" one shouted. "Kill it! Kill the forest monster!"
Their swords raised in trembling hands.
Mu Xuán's expression didn't change.
—
In the same moment, Prince Ling Xi pushed himself up slightly, eyes wide.
"No! Run—!"
—
But before he could say more, she moved.
She crouched beside him, her hand reaching out — and suddenly, the entire forest trembled.
The ground cracked open in jagged lines, the quake so violent that even the trees groaned.
Air froze.
—
Cold.
So cold that even divine blood couldn't resist it.
So cold their breath turned white, their skin stung, and their swords grew a thin layer of frost before they could even strike.
Ling Xi's eyes widened as the mist thickened, curling around them like ghostly tendrils.
Then—crack!
—
The frost solidified into countless shards, glittering like stars.
Swords.
Arrows.
Spears.
Formed entirely from ice, hanging in the air around her like an army awaiting command.
—
The men stared in horror. "Wha—what is this—"
They staggered, glancing around in confusion as cracks formed under their boots.
"What—what's going on?!"
"What—what is this—?!"
—
"Run!" one shouted, stumbling backward.
However, the frost crept along the earth, up their boots, over their armor.
—
The woman's lips curved into a faint, humorless smile.
Then eyes opened — glowing bright blue now, burning through the mist.
Her hair lifted gently in the wind, and for a heartbeat, she looked like a deity of vengeance.
—
Then, the air erupted in a storm of white.
Ice shot forward like lightning, tearing through armor and flesh, freezing them, cutting their screams short as the cold devoured everything.
In seconds, silence returned.
Only the faint sound of falling frost remained.
—
Prince Ling Xi stared in stunned silence.
He'd seen power before — divine power, immortal techniques — but this… this wasn't divine.
It was something else.
Something—
—
His gaze trailed up to her face.
Her skin was impossibly smooth, luminous under the misty light.
Her lashes — long, silver, tipped with frost — fluttered like snowflakes against her cheeks.
She looked like a dream sculpted from moonlight and winter.
Too perfect.
Too unreal.
—
She then turned look at him—
—
Without thinking, her hand reached toward his shoulder.
"Don't—"
He hissed as her fingers brushed his wound.
The shock of her touch made him grab her wrist instinctively.
—
And then he froze.
Her skin was freezing.
Not just cold — lifelessly cold.
Cold.
So cold it burned.
—
His breath hitched, his voice strained— his pulse unsteady.
"Who… are you?"
Her eyes met his, and for a fleeting moment, he saw something beneath that frosty calm—confusion.
Maybe… worry?
—
"Who are you?" he whispered again, hoarsely.
She didn't answer.
—
Instead, she removed her hand from his grip— pressing her palm lightly against his chest, she let her energy sweep over him—just enough to feel.
Beneath the surface, faint but insistent, she sensed— felt it: blood pooling under his ribs.
—
Internal bleeding.
Not fatal yet… but fast.
He's been hit in his energy center.
—
"You're hurt," she murmured, voice low, almost intimate. "your energy center… it's been hit… stay still."
"I—I'm fine," Ling Xi said, but his teeth were clenched.
—
He blinked, momentarily caught off guard, his breath hitching.
—
He hadn't been ready—the punch had come faster than he could react, the man's power striking straight into his energy center.
Pain flared inside him, spreading like fire, but he clenched his teeth.
The hit had pierced his energy center, sending a hidden wound through his Qi.
—
She frowned, sensing the faint tremor still lingering under his ribs.
"Don't move," she warned softly, pressing her hand a little firmer. "It's fast… if you push yourself now, it could get worse."
—
Ling Xi swallowed, nodding ever so slightly, fighting the urge to show weakness. "I… understand," he said.
—
However, something crossed his mind—
He looked at Mù Xuán in shock.
"You— how did you know?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly. "My energy center is—"
—
She said nothing.
Just as he's about to ask again—
—
Behind her, one of the men's eyes flicked toward her.
They were frozen—half-conscious—but not willing to die.
Not yet.
Not like this.
—
He then closed his eyes, lips moving silently, focusing on the sword lying on the ground.
The blade lifted.
Slowly, unnaturally, sliding forward through the mist, passing toward Mù Xuán kneeling before the Prince.
The mist curled around it, wrapping the sword in a ghostly haze.
—
He lifted his head only to see—
—
"Caref—" Ling Xi shouted.
—
She didn't give him a chance.
Head snapping back, eyes ice-cold, she locked onto the man manipulating the blade.
—
"You want to kill me?" she said, voice low, razor-sharp.
—
She closed her eyes.
Fingers curling, twisting in a precise gesture, tracing invisible threads in the air.
The temperature dropped violently.
Mist thickened, coiling around the frozen men.
Pain shot through them.
Muscles twitched.
Bones strained.
Their eyes widened.
—
They struggled.
They pushed, twisting their energy, trying to resist her freezing grip.
Sparks of power crackled in the air around their fingertips as they fought—desperate, chaotic.
—
"Ah… ah…" one of them tried to speak, trapped in agony, but no sound came out.
Her eyes snapped open.
She smirked, cold. "Not yet."
—
Their muscles twitched, bones cracking with tension—they were trapped halfway between life and death, completely frozen, but unwilling to give in.
The sword wavered in midair, shaking as if resisting her force.
—
"Ah… stop... please…" another whispered, frozen, eyes wide, lips trembling.
Seconds stretched like hours.
Their bodies shook, caught in agony, frozen, struggling.
Their wills clawed at her, fighting death, desperate not to give in—but the more they resisted, the tighter her grip became.
The mist thickened.
Cold bit like knives.
—
They screamed silently in their minds, pumping every ounce of strength into their attacks, but the frost bit deeper, tighter, crushing their will.
Muscles convulsed.
Bones groaned.
They clawed at the air, energy flaring around them—but it only made the cold tighten.
Seconds stretched like hours.
Finally, one by one, their bodies stiffened completely.
Dead.
The sword clattered to the ground.
—
She let the cold fade as she turned back to the man, placing her hand on his shoulder.
Only the two of them remained — surrounded by frozen corpses glimmering like glass statues.
—
His gaze, however was at the three men—now statues of frozen horror.
Their eyes were wide, their mouths parted mid-scream, their bodies turned to glittering frost.
—
Ling Xi followed her gaze, shock etching every line of his face.
"You… killed them."
"They would have killed you too," she murmured, her voice soft but cold, echoing faintly in the mist.
He opened his mouth, then stopped.
There was no arguing with that.
Still, something about her...
—
Suddenly, his body swayed—
—
"Hey," she whispered — uncertain, almost hesitant.
But he didn't answer.
His head tilted slightly, his breathing shallow, the color draining from his face.
"Hey!" she said again, louder this time, panic rising.
She leaned closer, her hand trembling as she reached for him again.
But before she could touch him —
—
His obsidian sword slipped from his grasp, clattering softly onto the frozen ground.
Then —
Thud.
He collapsed, falling backward into her arms.
Mu Xuán froze.
Her wide blue eyes stared down at his bloodstained robes, the warmth of his body slowly fading against her cold skin.
Her lips parted — but no sound came out.
—