The tree pulsed with ancient breath, its vast interior alight with soft, pulsing sigils embedded in bark older than time itself. Within the sanctum of the giant mystical tree, where roots sang in forgotten tongues and lanterns burned with starlight, Li Yuzi moved with reverent precision. Her slender fingers, delicate as calligraphy brushes, danced over the puppet stretched before her like a patient in meditation.
The puppet's wooden frame shimmered faintly, carved not just from timber but from memory and spirit. Countless fine needles gleamed along its meridians, acupuncture points aligned with both body and soul. Every insertion was an incantation, every thread she pulled was a whisper of intent.
Hovering near her shoulder, darting like a curious firefly, was a tiny blue-haired spirit. It zipped through the air, carrying gleaming needles in its little hands, humming a tune too ancient for words. The air itself shimmered with enchantment; time slowed inside the tree house, as if honoring the sacred craft unfolding within.
Yuzi, the prime embodiment of oriental elegance, wore the stillness of moonlight in her expression. Her ink-black hair cascaded down her back, a waterfall of midnight. Her skin glowed with the luster of morning dew, and her eyes held the solemn wisdom of temple bells.
But then vibration.
The tree stirred.
The roots shuddered with an ominous resonance as if something foreign had entered its sacred perimeter.
The little spirit froze mid-air, wide-eyed, wings flickering.
Yuzi's gaze met the spirit's. Silent understanding passed between them. She stood gracefully, her robes rustling like falling petals, and stepped toward the living bark that opened at her will. Outside, the world glistened beneath a velvet twilight.
And there beneath her sacred tree, resting upon an ancient stone veined with mystic ore sat a man.
He was striking in a way that jarred the senses, his presence a collision of harmony and chaos. His shoulder flared with a corrupt aura, a black energy that hissed against the purity of the tree. Yet from his forehead, his third eye poured a golden light that pulsed with righteous power, valiantly resisting the dark.
A paradox made flesh.
His intrusion had agitated the protective formation woven through the tree's roots. Of course, it mistook him for a threat. Yuzi's breath caught in her throat. She stepped forward.
With a quiet sigh, Yuzi raised her hand. A soft green glow bloomed from her palm, brimming with life-giving qi. For a heartbeat, she hesitated, then pressed forward, her hand hovering above his injured shoulder.
The darkness bucked and twisted as if aware of Yuzi intent.
Aiyu eyes snapped open.
Golden-brown irises locked onto Yuzi cold, ancient, and impossibly alluring. Eyes like the desert before a storm. Aiyu studied Yuzi as if she were a riddle the world had failed to solve.
"Who are you?" Aiyu rasped, his voice low and frayed at the edges like an old poem.
"You're within a sacred formation," Yuzi replied calmly. "If you move, it will destroy you. Be still."
Aiyu did not answer. But he obeyed.
Again, Yuzi extended my hand. Her emerald aura met his wound. The dark energy resisted violently, more stubborn than any evil energy Yuzi had cleansed before. It wasn't just poison. It was alive.
Yuzi poured a sliver of my life force into Aiyu, weaving stabilizing threads into Aiyu energy network, bracing Aiyu against both the backlash of the formation and his reckless cultivation.
Aiyu breathing slowed. His jaw relaxed. The hardness in Aiyu eyes softened slightly.
"You should rest," he murmured. "Don't waste your strength on me."
"I won't let anyone die under this tree," Yuzi replied, more firmly than she intended.
Yuzi knelt beside him, retrieving her satchel of herbs. With precise grace, she began applying a balm of jadevine and celestial ginseng. The scent filled the air, bitter, grounding.
"You're not from Country M," Yuzi said quietly. "Why are you here?"
Silence stretched. Finally, Aiyu spoke: "Thank you. I dislike debts."
He lifted his hand. Between his fingers, an ornate token flickered into existence, red and gold, humming with sealed power. He held it toward Yuzi.
"If you ever need aid, call upon me. My name is Aiyu."
Aiyu…
The name reverberated through Yuzi's memory like a bell struck in fog. Familiar, though she couldn't say why.
Before she could ask, his figure blurred. In an instant, he vanished, leaving behind only the ghost of his energy, warm and strange.
she stared at the space where he had been.
Who was he? And how had he entered my formation without falling apart?