The First Book of Hash Thomas

The biting cold of winter is keen, with the wind howling outside the Saint Castle Temple for Moon Goodness. The large doors of the Saint Castle Temple for Moon Goodness are open, with sparse individuals coming in and out. The rhythmic sound of a wooden mallet striking a wooden fish accompanies the chanting of scriptures. In front of the statue of Moon Goodness, a woman dressed in black robes kneels. She raises her chin slightly, her eyes lost in the statue of the Moon Goddess, bereft of its original color. The cold wind brushes over the black hairband loosely tying her waist-length hair, blowing it away. Her thick black hair falls like a waterfall, but the woman seems oblivious. An old woman, accompanied by a little girl, slowly walks into the temple from outside. Their robes are covered in snowflakes, leaving puddles and snowflakes on the ground they tread. The old woman's cloudy eyes sweep over the saints seated around, chanting, and she nods, before finally resting her gaze on the woman kneeling in the center. Approaching the woman, the old woman and the little girl bow slightly. The old woman asks, "Miss, are you here to make a blood oath to establish a covenant for cultivation?" Maxine, seemingly returning to her senses, turns her gaze towards the old woman, clasps her hands together and nods with a hint of a smile. The old woman returns the smile, takes the knife from the little girl's tray, dampens it with some water, and lightly flicks it three times. But before she begins, the old woman looks at Maxine, her old eyes seeming to confirm something, and asks again, "Miss, do you still have worldly attachments?" "The mundane world..." Maxine opens her lips lightly, a trembling note in her voice. There's fear in her eyes as her mind is filled with chilling images. In the images, it is a day much like the present, with heavy snow and wild wind howling outside the house, whistling through the doors and windows. Inside, the warm furnace is filled with incense, rising slowly through the perforated lid. In the dimly lit room, Maxine sits in front of the dressing table, holding a wooden comb, brushing her hand through her hair. Looking at her reflection, there's a fierce determination in her eyes. The blade of a dagger, cold and gleaming, is revealed beneath the moon-white inner garment on the dressing table. Maxine grips the hilt of the dagger and slowly walks towards the bed, where an elderly man lies, deeply asleep, his wrinkled face bearing a smile, as if he's dreaming of something pleasant. She feels nauseated. The dagger is aimed at the man's heart, but the hand gripping the dagger trembles uncontrollably. Never has Maxine taken a life in her years, nor has she ever wanted to kill someone so much. The force in her grip whitens her knuckles, yet she can't bring herself to drive the dagger down. A shadow falls over her, carrying a faint fragrance. A large hand envelops hers that grips the dagger, while another wraps around her waist. The warm touch penetrates her clothes, strikingly clear. The person leans close to her ear, and Maxine only has to turn her head to brush her lips against his face. It's Isidore! His face under the flickering candlelight, shows a wild, bloodthirsty danger. The force in his hand grows, and Maxine glances at the dagger, which is plunged directly into the old man's heart, leaving only the silver hilt exposed. The old man opened his eyes due to the pain, looking at the two people in front of him. His pale lips opened and closed, but other than the constant flow of blood spilling from his mouth, no other sounds could be heard. His hand, covered in wrinkles, shakily raised. Maxine was panicked, wanting to pull her hand back, but the large hand holding hers tightened even more, forcibly twisting the knife handle in a circle. With one hand over her mouth, tears streamed down due to fear, and she watched helplessly as the hand finally dropped. It wasn't until the old man closed his eyes that Maxine managed to gather her senses. All she heard was the husky voice of Isidore whispering in her ear, "Mommy Maxine, you have killed the king." "You killed the king."..."Miss? Miss?" The old woman saw the dazed look in Maxine's eyes and her trembling body and couldn't help but call out worriedly. "The worldly affairs are not yet settled." Maxine regained her senses, her eyes filled with urgency, "Please start the ceremony for me, for the contract ritual." The old woman asked again, "Miss, have you ever killed?" Maxine's eyes trembled slightly. She simply lowered her gaze, unseen by the old woman. Seeing Maxine silent, the old woman eyed her once more, thinking that such a fragile and beautiful girl wouldn't possibly have done anything as gruesome as killing. The very thought made her feel somewhat disrespectful. "I will start the ceremony for the miss now." With that said, the old woman slowly brought the dagger, wet with water, to Maxine's slender fingers, squinting her old eyes, and started... Maxine also lightly closed her eyes, waiting quietly. However, just as the blade was about to touch her finger, a voice shouting for a halt came from outside the temple. "Hold on!" The old woman paused, looking up at the person who entered. His black boots were covered with snow as he strode into the temple. His tall and straight figure stood against the light, and his black fur robe was full of snowflakes. His lean and chiseled face was intimidating. The hair tied high on his head was also covered in white snow, clearly indicating his urgency. From the moment he entered the temple, his gaze fell on Maxine, who was kneeling in front of the goddess statue. The old woman smiled knowingly and put the dagger back on the tray in the little girl's hand. "Miss, you still have unresolved worldly matters. I'm sorry, but I cannot establish a contract for you." With that said, the old woman led the little girl away. Maxine's body was trembling with every step of the deep footstep getting closer. Her body seemed out of control at this moment, she wanted to escape but could not move a step. All she could do was kneel on the cushion, watching as Isidore approached step by step. Isidore stopped in front of Maxine, knelt on one knee, and looked straight at her. His enchanting face showed a hint of a smile, "Mommy Maxine, you're burdened with a blood debt. How dare you aim to become a Saint?" "Isidore..." Maxine closed her eyes, feeling unwell. Her mind was filled with the bloodshed of that night, as well as Isidore's bloodthirsty face, just like it is now. "Mm, Isidore is here." "Isidore, take Mommy Maxine home." Isidore stretched out his hand to encircle Maxine's trembling waist, one hand passing under her knee, lifting her across his arms. Maxine's slender body seemed even more petite at this moment. His "Mommy Maxine" was so light that even holding her there was still a gap in his hand. It seemed that she had been too sad recently, not eating well. It was certain that she needed proper care after returning home. The mist in Maxine's eyes grew thicker as she looked at Isidore, she didn't understand why things had turned out like this. She couldn't understand the man before her, which side of him was the real Isidore?