Chapter 9: The Stranger Beneath the Veil
The mountain winds carried a strange chill that evening.
Luo Qingshen sat beneath the old spirit tree, quietly observing the silver-haired girl as she practiced her movements with a simple wooden sword. Though untrained, her instincts were sharp—each swing carried a raw grace, untouched by formal technique.
He watched in silence, folding a leaf between his fingers.
A divine ripple stirred.
Faint—almost imperceptible to mortal senses—but Luo's perception, honed beyond the gods themselves, caught it immediately. A disturbance in the Spirit Veins, like a whisper threading through the earth.
He rose to his feet, dusting off his simple robes.
"Stay close," he said softly to the girl.
She blinked at him, sensing the change in the air, and obediently moved to his side.
Far down the worn path leading into the village, a figure appeared—shrouded in heavy, dark robes. Even at this distance, Luo could feel it: the scent of divine branding. Whoever it was, they bore the mark of a higher realm.
Yet the figure hesitated, as if unsure whether to approach. Moments stretched painfully thin.
The silver-haired girl clutched his sleeve, her crystal-bright eyes full of silent fear.
Luo Qingshen's expression remained calm. Inwardly, he frowned.
Who sent you?Why now?
The stranger took one step closer... then another.
But before they could reach the village gate, a gust of shimmering, golden mist rose from the earth—the spirit guardians of the mountain, awakened by Luo's unseen will. They coiled around the stranger like translucent serpents, hissing warnings.
The robed figure froze.
In the next breath, they vanished into the twilight without a sound.
The villagers would remember nothing. To them, the evening would pass quietly, as it always had.
But Luo Qingshen knew better.
The gods—or their servants—were stirring.
He glanced down at the silver-haired girl, who still clung to him, unaware of the magnitude of the forces gathering beyond the mountains.
For a long moment, he said nothing.
Then, he gently patted her head and turned back toward the simple village lights.
Tomorrow, he thought, would not be so peaceful.