9 Breath Studio – Shadow Lotus Peak, Huangshan
Late afternoon—the hour when the mountain swallows the sun.
The car lurched to a stop on a narrow stone ledge. Pines towered above like silent guardians; mist drifted between their trunks in slow, ghostly ribbons. The air was so crisp it tasted like iron and pine needles.
Cheng Zhiyu climbed out, breath turning to fog. "What… is this place?"
Mei Zhu killed the engine and leaned against the warm hood. "Private sanctuary. Only disciples may enter. The guards know my face because Xiao once dragged me up here, crying over a boy. They took pity." She dangled a small jade token from her keys. "Now I come and go as her shadow."
Cheng Zhiyu's eyes followed the unseen peak. "So Senior Yu trains here? Like… actual martial arts?"
Mei Zhu's smile turned slow and sharp. "Rule one: military secrecy. Inside these walls you'll see things that don't belong in the outside world. When you leave, you bury them here. Xiao despises gossip. If you truly respect her, you'll guard her secrets with your life. Clear?"
Zhiyu's knees nearly buckled. He swallowed, loud in the mountain silence. "Crystal clear, Senior."
The gate guard was built like a temple statue—bald, gray-robed, face carved from old battles. He took Zhu's ID without blinking, then blocked Zhiyu with one thick arm.
"New face. Outsiders forbidden."
"He's with Ms. Yu," Zhu said smoothly.
The guard studied Zhiyu's trembling production ID, grunted, and stepped aside. "The little phoenix's new chick. Don't die."
Inside, stone paths wound beneath iron lanterns burning with real fire. Murals of coiling dragons glared down from the walls.
Cheng Zhiyu whispered, "He looked ready to snap me like a chopstick."
"Shh. They hear heartbeats."
They walked until the corridor opened onto the vast martial courtyard. Dozens of disciples flowed through forms so slow they looked frozen in time, yet every shift of weight promised death.
At the center of the empty field sat Yu Xiao.
Cross-legged on bare stone.
Black training robes, black belt knotted tight, black bandana binding her hair. Palms resting upward on her knees, fingers in perfect lotus mudra. Chin tucked, spine straight as a spear, eyes closed. She breathed so shallowly she might have been carved from jade.
Zhiyu's question died in his throat.
Master Long stood at the edge, white beard fluttering like a battle standard. He raised a finger to his lips as Zhu and Zhiyu approached.
"Thirty minutes is enough for an apprentice," he murmured, eyes never leaving Yu Xiao. "For her? A warm-up."
Mei Zhu watched, awed. "She's always been… more."
Only Master Long saw the truth: threads of crimson-gold qi spiraling into her body like rivers of molten lava. For a moment, she glowed from within—fierce, beautiful.
Then the threads twisted into burning chains.
Sweat poured down her face in silver rivers. Veins stood out beneath translucent skin. The stone beneath her began to spiderweb with hairline cracks.
"Master Long—" Zhu's voice broke.
"Her true qi awakens," he said, voice low. "Ancient. Furious. She must ride the fire or be consumed."
Cheng Zhiyu lunged forward. "She's hurting—"
Master Long seized his collar, yanking him back. "Fool! Break her focus and the qi will devour her meridians!"
Inside Yu Xiao's mind, hell reigned.
Heat like molten iron flooded every vein. Then came the vision:
A woman's voice, adult, speaking a language Yu Xiao had never learned, yet understood perfectly:
"Little blade… you promised you would return…"
The vision struck her without mercy.
Rain lashed an ancient courtyard of black stone. Torches guttered in the storm. A woman in blood-soaked crimson robes knelt, hands clutching the blade buried in her stomach.
The hand on the hilt was Yu Xiao's own—older, scarred, wearing a jade ring carved with a lotus.
The woman's face lifted. Eyes the color of molten amber locked onto hers.
Recognition. Betrayal. Love so fierce it burned colder than hate.
Blood spilled from the woman's lips as she whispered a name Yu Xiao could not hear over the roar in her skull.
The blade twisted.
The woman smiled—small, broken, forgiving—and died.
Yu Xiao's real body convulsed. A single tear carved a path through sweat and dust, hissing on the stone like water on hot iron.
Inside her chest, the awakened qi coiled into the shape of a crimson lotus—nine petals, each one a lifetime of blood and oaths.
It bloomed.
She wrenched her eyes open, gasping, palms slamming the ground hard enough to send a shockwave of dust outward.
Master Long took an involuntary step back, beard trembling. Nine-petaled Crimson Lotus… impossible. She is only twenty-two, he thought.
"Yu Xiao!" Zhu screamed.
Yu Xiao rose like a storm, legs shaking but spine unbowed. She saw them—Zhu's terror, Zhiyu's horror—and fury rose to shield the fear.
"I told you to wait at the dorm." Her voice was raw iron. "Why are you here?"
Mei Zhu reached for her. "You're burning up—"
"I'm fine." She jerked away, wiping her face with a shaking sleeve. "We start the read-through tonight. No delays."
She strode past them, every step leaving faint scorch marks on the stone.
Cheng Zhiyu whispered, "Is Senior Yu always this terrifying?"
Mei Zhu exhaled shakily. "Only when something inside her is trying to claw its way out."
The Next Day – Fading Lantern Press Studio
Ms. Wang's office smelled of coffee grounds and cigarette ghosts. Morning light sliced through half-closed blinds in white knives.
"You came alone," she said, not looking up.
"They pulled an all-nighter and a half. I gave them the morning off."
Yu Xiao dropped a thick folder on the desk. Glossy photographs spilled out: mist-wreathed temples, crumbling watchtowers perched on knife-edge ridges, moonlit gorges that swallowed sound.
Ms. Wang flipped through them, lips pursed. "Oracle's Perch," she tapped one image: a solitary peak shrouded in perpetual cloud, stone steps carved into its side like the spine of an ancient beast.
Yu Xiao's stomach dipped. Even in daylight, the photograph looked hungry.
"Tomorrow, at 8 a.m. You, Mei Zhu, Cheng Zhiyu—everyone will be there. We're setting up base camp. Pack for a week. It's remote."
Yu Xiao nodded, the mountain already calling to whatever had just woken in her veins.
Ninth Heaven Sunrise Apartment – Night
The night came, quiet as a calm ocean.
The phone barely rang.
"What's up, Xiao?"
"Tomorrow. Eight sharp. Oracle's Perch. Ms. Wang chose it."
Silence. Then Zhu's voice dropped to a whisper. "That place? Where compasses fail and people hear voices in the wind?"
"Decision's final. Hesitate and we break her trust."
Mei Zhu rubbed her temple, leaving red crescents. "Fine. But if something drags us into the mist, I'm haunting you first."
"Call Zhiyu. Make sure he's ready. And Zhu…" Yu Xiao's voice softened, almost pleading. "Bring the heavy first aid kit. The one with sutures."
She hung up before Mei Zhu could ask why.
In the dark bedroom, Yu Xiao stood at the window. Far beyond the city lights, lightning flickered over distant peaks—silent, white, ravenous.
Oracle's Perch was waiting.
She hoped everything would end up fine.
Maybe this was the opportunity that had always slipped away.
After a long day, and with unusual things appearing so suddenly…
Nothing serious—or is it something deadly serious?
This is why I hate visions.