Soulbound Destiny

Chapter 3: Shadows of Suspicion

The two young women struggled to stifle their sobs, bowing deeply in gratitude.

When Jien returned from the woods, Haolan introduced them formally. The elder sister, Zhilan, was about seventeen, her round face and large, luminous eyes marked by both beauty and sorrow. The younger, Ronna, perhaps fifteen, had slender brows and almond-shaped eyes, giving her a quiet grace distinct from her sister’s charm. Though shaken by tragedy, both still remembered their manners, offering Jien a solemn salute.

Jien acknowledged them with a perfunctory nod, though his gaze lingered a little too long. He could not help but compare their features—the softness of Zhilan’s countenance against the sharper, livelier spirit that seemed to flicker in Ronna’s eyes.

Since Yunyang City lay far from this mountain pass, there was no chance to bring back the bodies of the slain couple. They chose instead to bury them beneath the shadow of the pines. Naturally, the labor fell to Jien. With nothing but his battered cooking spade, he dug for two full hours, the blisters rising on his palms a testament to the toil.

By the time the graves were filled and the sisters had wept their farewells, the sun was already sinking, painting the ridges in blood-red light. Dusk descended swiftly, cloaking the mountains in shadows.

Traveling by night was slow and dangerous, especially with two grieving women in their care. They pressed on, but only by the next day at mid-morning did the four of them finally emerge from the forest’s grip. Pushing hard, they reached Yunyang City by mid-afternoon.

The sight before them was dazzling. Yunyang stood proud and prosperous, its wide streets alive with carts and carriages, its markets brimming with merchants and hawkers. Towering walls and red-tiled roofs spoke of centuries of strength and wealth. Zhilan could not contain her awe.

“Master Haolan,” she breathed, eyes wide, “is it possible such splendor exists in this world?”

Haolan’s chest swelled with pride. With a knowing smile, he replied, “It is said that in ages past, the Yellow Emperor himself held a great military review here in Yunyang. What you see today is the fruit of those ancient roots. Such is the legacy of our land…”

He was just beginning one of his long-winded lectures when Jien coughed loudly into his fist.

“Uncle,” he said quickly, “we’re nearly home. But these young ladies—where will they stay?”

Haolan blinked, caught off guard. After a moment’s thought he said, “You go ahead to the manor first and see how things stand. I’ll take the ladies to an inn so they can refresh themselves. Once they are presentable, I will bring them to pay respects to my father.”

Jien accepted the task and made for the great crimson gates of the City Lord’s residence. Within the sprawling courtyard stood row upon row of Yunyang’s brightest youths—hundreds of them—gathered in solemn expectation. Their faces were proud, their postures disciplined, and yet their eyes carried the same question: why had they been summoned?

Several recognized Jien, greeting him warmly as he hurried past. He returned their salutations briefly but kept his pace, weaving through halls and courtyards until he reached the eastern wing, where the study of the City Lord Dongyue stood. The door was shut, but voices carried from within.

Glancing around and finding no one watching, Jien’s curiosity overcame him. He crept to the side of the window, pressing his ear close to the wooden frame.

“…Blessings of the Boundless Immortal,” came the voice of a middle-aged man, heavy with authority. “The scourge of Tianzhu has returned. A calamity not seen in ages approaches. We three come by order of the Soul-Guard Alliance to Yunyang, to select worthy talents. Nine other Daoist comrades have been dispatched to Mingzhu, Liuguang, and Luohan cities to do the same.”

The deep voice of City Lord Dongyue followed: “And how many shall be chosen from each of the three cities?”

A colder, more sinister tone interjected: “Tell us, Lord Dongyue—when is your son expected back?”

“My son has received my summons,” Dongyue replied steadily. “He is already on his way.”

Then a woman’s voice, clear and musical as the ringing of jade: “This matter cannot be delayed. Time is too precious.”

Jien rose slightly on his toes, trying to catch a glimpse of the speakers through the narrow gap in the shutters. At that moment, the middle-aged man’s voice spoke again, now with a subtle edge:

“Restrain your impulses. Do not pry into what is not yours to hear.”

The words struck like a hammer. A sharp sting pricked Jien’s forehead. He gasped, reaching up to find a single drop of cold water clinging to his skin.

“Jien, is that you outside?” came the stern voice of Dongyue from within.

Jien froze, his heart hammering. “Yes, my lord—it is I,” he stammered.

“Where is Haolan? Fetch him at once. The three venerable immortals await!”

“Yes!” Jien answered quickly, bowing though they could not see him. He turned and fled.

At the inn, he found Haolan sipping tea with the sisters. Bursting in, Jien cried, “Uncle! You must return at once! The Soul-Guard Alliance’s immortals are already here—Lord Dongyue commands your presence immediately!”

Haolan nearly dropped his cup. He stood, hesitated, and cast a reluctant glance at Zhilan and Ronna.

“Attend to your duty, young master,” Zhilan said softly. “We will be fine.”

Haolan’s eyes flickered with conflict. Then, with a nod, he told Jien, “I’ll go ahead. You escort the ladies to the manor. Place them in the guest loft beside my quarters. Once matters are settled, I will speak with them again.”

Jien gaped. “What? Into the manor? But—”

“Enough.” Haolan cut him off with a wave. “This summons is no trivial matter. The Alliance elders are not to be kept waiting. Do as I say.” He turned to the sisters with a formal bow. “Forgive me. Duty calls. Trust Jien, and I shall return shortly.” Gathering his robes, he strode quickly out the door.

Left alone with the sisters, Jien frowned deeply. They were pitiable, yes, but strangers nonetheless. To bring them into the City Lord’s heavily guarded household—was that wise? His instincts warned of trouble. And yet, Haolan’s command left him no choice.

After a long moment, he sighed. “Very well. Come with me.”

The sisters thanked him quietly, and together they entered the gates of the great manor.

By evening, after settling them in the guest loft, Jien returned to his own modest quarters on the eastern side of the compound. He had just finished washing the dust from his face when a maidservant’s voice came from outside the door.

“Master Jien, the Lord requests your presence. The selection is about to begin.”

Jien stiffened, stunned. “Me? He wants me?”

“Yes, young master. Please hurry.”

His heart pounded with questions. Wiping his face with his sleeve, Jien followed the maid into the depths of the City Lord’s mansion—toward a fate he could neither guess nor refuse.