Chapter 101: Snow and Blood [Interlude]

~~~

10 years ago…

“You will come back safe, right, Mom?”

Elder Chen Ziyu looked down at her daughter and smiled.

“My dearest Lianshi, no harm will come to me,” the woman whispered as she stroked her daughter’s hair. “I am simply attending a funeral. There’s no need to fret.”

“It’s grandma’s funeral,” Lianshi pouted as she leaned into her mother’s touch. “Shouldn’t I be there too?”

Another person came and sat beside the pair — a male, broad-shouldered with powerful muscles and a skin shaped like unyielding marble.

“The deceased Matriarch will forgive your lack of attendance, Lianshi,” he said, voice deep and stuck in a half-growl. “It is not safe. Your Aunts will be there too. All six of them.”

Lianshi shuddered. Chen Ziyu patted her head. 

“Listen to your father,” the woman instructed. “And stay here with him until I come back, okay? It is not safe for you to return to the monastery yet.”

A week ago, the present Matriarch of the Split-headed Carnivores Sect had died.

Soon, the Blood Trials would begin to determine which of the Matriarch’s seven daughters would inherit the title of Sect Leader. Chen Ziyu — Lianshi’s mother — was one of those daughters, and a contender for the vaulted seat.

The Elder was well familiar with the ruthlessness of her sisters. Her family was not safe, and so on the very night of the Matriarch’s death, she had them escape from the monastery grounds.

High and hidden upon the icy peaks of the Fang Mountain, the three of them sat within a glacial tunnel.

“Neither is it safe for you, Ziyu,” the man growled. His marbled form bristled with phantom faces. “Do you have to go? I can sustain the Labyrinth Ways for some time. We may be able to wait out the inevitable bloodshed over the rights of succession.”

Chen Ziyu shook her head. “I must attend the funeral. My absence is no doubt noted already, and my sisters will find us eventually if I hide. But have no fear. I have no ambitions for the title of Matriarch. I will publicly renounce my rights and return to you. Then… I suspect we must leave the Fang Mountains.”

Leave the mountains. Lianshi’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “Really? We can finally go see the rest of the world?”

The Elder smiled. “Yes, my little fang. Just the three of us. Whichever of my Sisters ascends to the mantle of leadership, they will likely never feel safe for as long as I remain, even if I renounce my claim. We will leave instead and put their mind at ease. I long to see the world beyond the 103rd Outer Province, anyhow. But I must still announce my intent to them first. And secure a few treasures for our journey, if I can.”

“Prioritise your safety above all else,” Ziyu’s husband grunted. “The riches we can secure elsewhere.”

“I know. You did not marry a foolish woman, Gaowei.” Chen Ziyu kissed her husband’s marbled cheeks before passing him a jewelled bracelet. 

To call it a bracelet would be generous, in truth. The thing was an abomination; its band a twisted braid of black, unidentifiable hair and a series of strange gemstones. The central eye refracted light in ways that it hurt to look at, while the lesser gems flickered with hues of bruise-purples and ichor green.

Carved into each uneven facet of those strange gems were glyphs; letters unlike any Lianshi had ever seen — each character looping into the next like a fractal, never quite repeating. 

The man’s eyes hardened, and his steady fingers shivered slightly when the woman tied the bangle on his wrist. She looked into his stony eyes meaningfully. “Keep our daughter safe.”

“With my life,” the man stoically replied. His eyes softened as he watched his wife leave the entrance to the marbled bunker he manifested.

Lianshi looked at the bracelet her mother passed to her father. “What’s that?”

“... An artefact of great power, supposedly. Your mother calls it a Frostblood Bracelet,” Gaowei murmured, voice gravelly as he activated his Divine Art and sealed the entrance to the bunker with a marble slab. “The late Chen Matriarch created it. She made them for her daughters as symbols of power, or so the tales go. Seven in total, one for each child.”

“It looks… ugly. Why doesn’t Mum throw it away?” Lianshi pouted. “Not pretty at all. Mum is pretty. She shouldn’t wear it.”

Gaowei chuckled. “I agree that it spoils your mother’s beauty, though throwing it is a step too far. Putting aside that it is a gift from the late Matriarch, the rumours tell that the bracelet was made from the corpse of a God — one that is foreign to the 103rd Outer Province, or even that of Qiangyu entirely.”

Lianshi’s eyes widened. Gaowei, satisfied that his daughter was now distracted from their present woes, continued.

“Long ago, even before the War Against Heaven, a great battle took place in this province. The details of what exactly happened are scarce, but… It is said that a monster of unrivalled power had invaded these lands from beyond the Abyssal Ridge. The armies of the old Celestial Kingdom had moved to repel the invasion, but were defeated. The corpses of our four Gods were the result — The four Dead Gods of the 103rd Outer Province.”

“But… You said this wasn’t made from our corpse god,” Lianshi said uncertainly.

“No, it isn’t.” Gaowei stroked her hair soothingly. “When the monster arrived… It brought with it Gods of its own. Deities born under foreign skies; their names found only in forbidden tomes…”

The man continued slowly, speaking each word with care: “They were called Demons. Foreign Gods. Though the battle concluded in their favour, some of them had fallen alongside the Gods of Mount Tai. One lies right here, beneath this mountain, next to the body of the Split-headed Carnivore. Your venerable Grandmother discovered the corpse during her time. With her skills, she harvested their eyes and hair to create these seven Frostblood Bracelets as gifts for her daughters.”

Another God? Here in the Fang Mountain?

“I never heard anyone tell me this before,” Lianshi said, eyes wide.

“It is a well-hidden secret. I suspect the Matriarch was the only one permitted to know for a time. Not even her daughters originally knew of the bracelets’ origin. But the artefacts have a way of speaking. The secret eventually became known among the wearers — your mother included — once the Demon’s corpse was distributed.”

Lianshi looked uneasily at the bracelet. “It… Talks?” 

Gaowei hummed. “It gave your mother strange dreams. Memories of a different life. Not all of it was bad — dreams of long-forgotten wars have their worth in wisdom. For more practical use… The bracelets also allow the wearers to better drain qi from multiple spouses simultaneously.”

“But… Mom never married anyone else…”

“No, she did not. Your mother is… peculiar that way. ” The man was quiet for a moment. “If a Young Miss chooses to give it to their spouse, it symbolises a type of trust. It is not a thing to be lightly given.”

“Then why did she give it to you?”

Gaowei hesitated. Eventually, he answered: “To tell me she loves me. And… So that you can inherit it, in case she does not come back.”

Lianshi’s heart spiked. Gaowei sighed and gently patted her head. 

“Calm down, little fang. Your mother is strong,” he chuckled, his rumbles deep and hoarse. “She was just being dramatic. Have faith that she will return. We will soon leave the mountain, and you can see the wider world you have always wanted. Let me tell you a few other stories in the meantime.”

“Okay!” Lianshi cheered, her worries forgotten.

Her mother was strong. There was no need to worry. Soon, she would embark on an adventure with the people she loved — just the three of them together. No more scary nights where the whole monastery screamed and cried, no more freezing cold and days spent stuck in the Ice Palaces, and no more eerie aunts looking at her or her father with murderous glares.

A new life with her family was coming. Lianshi could not wait.

~~~

One week later…

“Lian…shi… Run…”

Those were the final words of Gaowei as his marbled body was split in half.

Lianshi watched numbly as her father’s blood ran upon the marbled walls. His bisected body shuddered as the faces of animals and people distended from the corpse’s collapsing skin. 

At the entrance of the bunker were the malformed corpses of half a dozen transformed female disciples. Some were ripped apart. Others transmuted into screaming marble. All had died fighting the roaring male cultivator.

In the end, it was not enough.

The marbled walls of the manifest Labyrinth faded, revealing a hidden cave bored into a giant glacier atop the Fang Mountain, now exposed to the sniffing predators of the Split-Headed Carnivores.

Not that it mattered. Their new Matriarch had already found them.

Chen Zijing flicked her giant claws, tossing Gaowei’s corpse aside. The thick ichor on them flaked off. She brought them up to her mouth and licked a single drop from it.

“Your father was unexpectedly strong. He killed twelve of my Core Disciples and another Elder before perishing,” the Matriarch idly commented as she looked down upon the corpse. “I can see why the fool Ziyu married him. In respect for my late sister and her husband’s abilities, I shall have him entombed here. The cave will soon freeze up and seal on its own; a fitting grave for one who once escaped the trappings of the Inverted Monk Sect.”

Lianshi did not say a thing. Her eyes were fixed on her father. He had always been so strong, so unyielding. He couldn’t lose. It was impossible.

Get up. Please. Dad…

His corpse remained unmoved.

“And so, it is finished,” Chen Zijing spoke aloud. “All six of my sisters are dead. Their spouses are dead. Their children… Only two remained, by fortune of being too young to resist.”

The Matriarch’s dark eyes landed on Lianshi, who could only stare at the ground. “Rejoice, my newest daughter. Today is not the day I kill you.”

~~~

1 year later…

Lianshi’s new childhood was not easy.

Where before her mother and father sought to shelter her from the Sect’s harsh treatments with love and care, they were now no longer such safety nets as she struggled to earn her place as Young Miss of the Split-Headed Carnivores.

Her new Matriarch — the woman she was forced to call ‘Mother’ in public — gave her no reprieve from endless training and hardships. Weeks were spent outside the monastery’s walls, where the blizzards and Spirit Beast threatened to overwhelm her.

Even with her awakening to the Foundation Realm at nine years old, it was not always enough to guarantee her safety. 

The inside of the monastery was hardly safer on most occasions. The Nights of Famine continued, harsh and deadly. Screams and laughter haunted Lianshi almost every night, especially as the winter darkness reached its fourth month — an unprecedented duration in the last century.

The chaos of the Matriarch succession, combined with the unexpectedly long winters, made the Split-Headed Carnivores Sect weaker than ever. Lianshi, in turn, was then expected to perform under increasing pressure from the Elders and her Matriarch.

She bore them stoically. Under snow, pain, and blood, she endured.

Waiting for the day she would grow strong enough to avenge her true family.

~~~

Lingyu was strange.

She should hate her, Lianshi thought. She represented a potential rival in the future, a threat to her position as the primary Young Miss. Matriarch Zijing probably expected Lianshi to kill her, or at least seek to inconvenience her.

Lianshi could never do that. The very thought felt inconceivable. 

Lingyu was like her, but even worse. Younger than her by four years, the six-year-old barely spoke, her eyes deadened by grief. 

Some nights, when the Elders had retreated into their frozen coffins and the Core Disciples were too busy eating each other to notice, Lianshi would sneak into Lingyu’s room, occasionally helped by an Inner Disciple named Jin, who was the girl’s handmaiden. 

Most of the time, Lianshi would do nothing but hug the younger girl until they fell asleep together. On the few occasions when the pain was not so bad, Lianshi would talk to her a little, whispering about her old life with her mother and father as Lingyu listened unresponsively. 

And in rare moments, when the burden of memory was too much, Lianshi would seek her out, holding the little girl for comfort as she cried.

Lingyu would often cry with her, too.

It took a very long time before they were able to properly talk to one another.

~~~

Another year later…

His name was Feng.

The boy hid behind his Father’s legs shyly. Mother told her beforehand who he was, what he represented.

Lianshi’s Husband-to-be. Her future Fiancé, once they came of age, in another eight years.

When she first heard the news, her gorge had risen to her chest. Even her marriage was decided by that detestable woman. Lianshi held no control over her choices. 

Looking at the boy now… She hated him. He had no right looking that soft and vulnerable, hiding behind his Father’s legs — his living father — like a child. He was weak. He should not be allowed to be weak!

Why couldn’t she have someone protecting her like he did?

It was a stupid thought. Her father was dead. Her real mother was dead. There was no one else. She had to be strong. For Lingyu. For herself. And for her revenge.

The Patriarch of the Beheaded Phoenix Sect suggested they get together to know each other. Lianshi — speaking out of turn — requested a spar against the boy, stating she wished to know his worth.

Everyone in that room held a position of power. Elders of both her Sects and those of the foreign delegation. The Patriarch. Her Matriarch. 

Lianshi’s words were disrespectful. They courted death. Part of her didn’t care. Somehow, the boy hurriedly agreed before things escalated.

She did not think much of him. He was half a year older than her, but she started cultivating at an earlier age than he did. He looked so weak. She was sure she could take him out and reassert some control in her life.

Things did not work out the way she thought they would.

But looking back at the memories now… Lianshi could not say she regretted them.