The morning of her departure arrived with unnatural stillness.
The entire Jiang compound seemed to hold its breath. Red banners fluttered in the breeze. Incense filled the air.
A thin mist had crept in from the lake, softening the edges of the world. It was the kind of fog used in plays, to hide pain behind ceremonial smiles.
Huolian stepped out in a vermillion wedding robe, the embroidery bright with phoenixes and flowing fire. Her hair was pinned up with golden peonies, each one carved with such care it almost felt like sin. Her face was plastered with makeup.
She looked radiant.
But it was not her joy.
The crowd gathered quietly. Friends. Neighbors. Distant cousins. Every face held the same strained expression, a forced smile, a trembling brow, eyes that couldn't meet hers for too long.
Jiang Wei stood at the front, red-eyed and composed. His voice quivered only once as he gave his blessing. Lan clutched her sleeve tightly before letting go with a sob muffled into her sleeve.
Only Huolian remained calm.
She bowed when expected. Smiled when required. Nodded when praised.
Her role was perfect.
But inside…
'None of this is real. None of this belongs to me.'
Shenxiu had chosen not to attend the ceremony. He would meet her at the outer city gate with the sect envoy. No witnesses. No questions.
Instead, a grand palanquin awaited her beyond the final steps of the Jiang estate.
As Huolian reached the bottom stair, Meilin ran to her, eyes filled with unshed tears.
"Sister," Meilin whispered. "Will you… remember us?"
Huolian froze.
Then she gently reached out and wiped the girl's cheek.
"I will always remember."
Her voice was soft. Almost too soft to hear. Her acting was top notch.
Because no matter how deep into the mountains she was taken, no matter how powerful her enemies or how vast the sect's domain, she would never forget the place where Boluo was reborn.
The place where she first tasted fear, and chose to live anyway.
She stepped into the palanquin. The silk curtains closed.
The world outside vanished.
Only silence remained.
They traveled quickly. Shenxiu had arranged for cloud-gliders, floating spirit-beasts that pulled the palanquin above the trees. The wind bit at the edges of her robe, but within the carriage, she remained untouched.
Shenxiu rode a short distance behind, on a long-bodied beast cloaked in violet mist. His gaze never strayed. Not once. Not even when they passed through cities or villages.
He was ensuring obedience.
She didn't mind.
He had already given her a gift more precious than any spell: instructions.
"Have them continue the talismans. Exactly as before."
Those words had sealed her victory. Shenxiu believed her to be useful.
That meant survival.
It meant power.
Each talisman carried a thread of belief. A sliver of offered hope. A whisper of soul essence. With hundreds in circulation, they fed her from afar, tethering her to life even while imprisoned.
Huolian smiled in the darkness.
'A cage it may be,' she thought, 'but it has golden bars and a soul-fed hearth.'
And that was enough.
Because Boluo… Boluo had never had a master. He had clawed his way up from nothing, killed sages for their secrets, devoured cults and legacies with bloody hands.
Now?
Now she was being given the chance to learn without killing.
That was almost exhilarating.
On the second evening, as the sun dipped behind the cloud-flecked peaks, they arrived.
And Huolian realized just how small her world had been.
The castle wasn't just grand, it was otherworldly.
Dark purple walls rose like a mountain's ribs. The gate alone was taller than her entire village.
Jade runes pulsed across the stone like veins, humming softly with sealed intent. Above the walls, massive towers coiled upward, each crowned with floating crystals that turned with the wind.
Guards stood in perfect silence, clad in silvery-white armor that glowed faintly under the twilight. Not mortals. Not even normal cultivators.
She could feel it.
They were protectors. Chosen by sect oaths. Bound by law and spirit.
Beyond the gate, the castle grounds unfolded like a world unto itself.
A grand avenue ran through the center, lined with pavilions, courtyards, and ceremonial halls. Water gardens glittered beneath moon-shaped bridges.
Disciples in flowing robes trained in quiet unison. Some wielded blades that split air, others moved boulders with silent palms.
And this… was only the main castle.
Around it, in the surrounding hills and lakes, stood dozens more: shrines, fortresses, libraries, and chambers of trial. The Violet Cloud Pavilion was a domain, not a sect hall.
Huolian stared in silence, her breath caught.
Shenxiu approached then, stepping down from his beast without a word.
She followed him into the main gate.
They walked in silence.
Shenxiu's footsteps led them across a marble courtyard into a hall lined with spirit lamps. Each lamp held a name, a title. These were not decorations.
They were oaths.
Names of past disciples, sealed with their souls inside. To enter here was to bind oneself to legacy.
Shenxiu gestured toward an empty pedestal.
"This is yours. If you choose to accept the rites."
She understood immediately.
Once her soul imprint was placed, she would become a recognized disciple of Violet Cloud. Protected. Sheltered. Watched.
Forever.
Huolian hesitated for the briefest of moments. This was more of a trap than protection.
Then she stepped forward and placed her palm on the stone. She could not say no.
A faint light shimmered beneath her skin. Threads of soul essence pulsed into the crystal.
Her name would not be carved here.
But her existence would be sealed.
When she pulled back, Shenxiu nodded once.
"From this moment forward, you are my inner disciple."
His tone was matter-of-fact. Like the branding of livestock.
Huolian bowed low.
"Your student obeys."
He studied her.
Then, for the first time, he smiled, not with cold amusement, but something close to warmth.
"You will do well here. If you do not disappoint me."
Then he turned and left her standing in the hall.
A young woman in lavender robes approached quietly from the side hall.
"I am Mei Hua. Disciple keeper of the Inner Hall," she said with practiced grace. "I will take you to your quarters."
Huolian followed.
They passed rows of silver doors, each marked with personal sigils. Finally, they reached a chamber carved into the mountainside, less a room, more a sanctum.
Inside: a meditation pool, a spirit array for alchemy, and a chamber for private cultivation.
The bed was simple, but warm.
The shelves were empty, but waiting.
And on the far table… sat the violet disciple token.
The same one Shenxiu had given her in that tea room two days ago.
Now glowing faintly, as if it had been waiting for her all along.
Mei Hua bowed. "All necessities are provided. If you require materials or jade, submit your requests through the disciple ledger. Meals are optional."
She started to leave, then paused.
"…You're the first personal disciple he's taken in seven years," she added softly. "That means something."
Then she was gone.
The door closed.
Huolian stood alone in the silence.
She walked to the token, picked it up, and felt the echo of Shenxiu's energy within.
'So this is how it begins,' she thought.
She stared at the token for a long time, then tucked it into her sleeve.
Not with reverence.
But with hunger.
The hunger of someone who had killed saints for scrolls.
Now offered scrolls with no blood required.
Huolian smiled faintly, her fingers brushing the spirit-gathering formation by the wall.
It responded.
Of course it did.
Because it knew her soul.