BOUND BY A MORTAL FLAME

Unexpected Encounter

Chapter 9: 🥂✍️Unexpected Encounters✍️🥂

{Mortal Realm – Binghe Village}

The morning light slipped through the carved wooden screens, pale and quiet. Dust hung in the air like ash that had forgotten how to fall.

Fue opened his eyes to silk bedding and the faint tang of a blood-dark aura clinging to his skin. For a breath, the world tilted. This was not the Devil Realm. No scorched wind, no distant wails carried on the heat, no sky the color of old iron. Here, the air was clean. Too clean. The silence pressed against his ears.

“Brother! You’re awake!”

A girl of twelve burst through the doors, her robes still half-askew from running. She threw herself onto the edge of his bed and seized his sleeve.

“Stop lazing! Mother said we go to Yilan River today. I want to pick river stones. They say the blue ones bring luck in marriage.”

Fue stared at her. For a heartbeat, his face did not move. Then it changed—eyes narrowing, mouth pulling back just enough to show teeth, a flicker of the Demon Lord he was in the Demon Realm. Demonic, cold, assessing, like she was prey that had wandered too close. It lasted only a second. He caught himself. This was the Mortal Realm. He was here for tribulation.

He forced it away, replacing it with something dull and human.

“Tell Mother I cannot go,” he said, turning his face away. “I am unwell.”

Her smile faltered. “...Brother?”

Fue looked past her, toward the other bed. Mao lay there, limbs loose, breathing deep and even. Sleep did not suit a man who had once commanded legions.

“Hey, Mao. Stand up,” Fue said, voice low but sharp enough to cut through sleep.

The girl frowned. “Brother, when did you start calling Fing ‘Mao’?”

Fue caught himself. The words slipped out like a habit from another life. This was the Mortal Realm. Names changed here. Roles changed. He could not afford to slip.

He forced a smile, small and tired, and reached out to ruffle her hair. “I did not sleep well. My mind is slow.”

Mao sat up in one motion, back straight, eyes clear. A soldier called before dawn.

“My L—”

“Fing, you are awake,” Fue interrupted, giving him a look that said _hold your tongue_. His sister was watching.

“Oh, Master,” Mao said quickly, bowing his head. “Sleep makes a man forget.”

The girl watched them both, suspicion fading into something softer. She reached out and touched Fue’s sleeve.

“Brother, did you fight someone yesterday?” she asked, searching his face for cuts, for bruises.

Does he not remember me?_ she thought. _Did he fall and strike his head?_

“No,” Fue said. He did not have the memories of the boy whose body he now wore. But he understood mortals well enough. Their lives were built on lies, on small betrayals, on faces worn like masks. Worse than devils in that way. Devils did not pretend.

“Then what is my name?” she asked. Her voice was quiet now. Afraid of the answer.

Fue opened his mouth. Nothing came. His heart beat once, hard.

“Your name… your name is…”

“My Lady!!”

The door slammed open. A maid rushed in, breath catching, robes in disarray. She dropped to her knees the moment she saw the girl.

“Fiefie!!” the girl called back, turning with relief.

“I have been looking for you everywhere, My Lady,” the maid said, crawling forward and gripping her skirts.

“What is it, Fiefie?” the girl asked, steadying her with both hands.

“Lady Yue, Madam has finally given leave,” Fiefie said, words tumbling out. “You may go out today.”

“Yue.” Fue said it under his breath. So that was her name. It fit the way she moved, light and quick.

“Really?!” Yue’s eyes went wide. She seized Fiefie’s hands and jumped where she stood. “I am free! I can finally leave the compound!”

“It is not so simple, My Lady,” Fiefie said, pulling back and turning to Fue. She bowed low.

“Young Master Cheng, Madam instructs that you escort Lady Yue to Yilan River. But you must not let her approach the Bamboo Forest. The old servants say the place is ill-omened.”

She hesitated, then added, “And Fing is to remain within the household.”

Yue’s face fell, then brightened again.

“What?!” she said, then grinned. “Still, it is better than nothing. As long as it is you escorting me, Brother, I do not care.”

She turned back to Fue, already planning.

“I must look proper. I will wear the pink robe you gave me for my birthday. It has been kept in the chest for two months.”

Fue nodded once.

“Yes, My Lady, that robe will suit you well,” Mao said, speaking up to give Fue time to think.

“Right, Fing,” Yue said, tapping his shoulder and laughing. She ran out as quickly as she had come, shouting for water and a comb.

The door closed behind her.

“Not bad,” Mao said quietly, bowing low from where he stood. “You almost let it show.”

Fue sat up slowly, pressing his fingers to his temple.

“We must be careful,” he said. “The eyes of the Immortal Realm are on this place. They watch every steps and fault, for breaking the Almighty Law. One mistake, and they will know what walks among mortals.”

“My flame does not show,” he added. “The Beast Bead hides it.”

Mao nodded. “Then we play the part. I am your servant. No qi, no display. A shadow should not cast its own light.”

***{Binghe Village Market Square}***

The market was loud in a way Fue had forgotten mortals could be. Voices overlapped, bargaining and gossip tangled together. The smell of steamed buns, oil, and wet earth hung heavy.

Yue darted through the crowd, her pink robe catching the light. Fiefie ran behind her, clutching a small basket.

“My Lady, you cannot run like this,” Fiefie panted. “People will talk.”

“Let them talk,” Yue said without looking back. “I have been inside for a month.”

She stopped abruptly and grabbed Fue’s sleeve, dragging him toward a stall.

“Brother, buy me fish cake!”

“Welcome, Young Lady,” the seller said at once, bowing. “What will you have?”

“One pack of fish cake,” Yue said brightly.

“Here, My Lady. Thirty wen.”

Yue took the paper-wrapped cake and skipped away, already unwrapping it. Fue gave Mao a look. Mao paid without a word.

“Brother, let us go to Yilan River,” Yue said, licking oil from her fingers. “They say the water is so still you can see the moon at noon.” Without waiting for an answer, she turned and hurried down the road that led out of the market.

---

***{Yilan Riverbank}***

The river lay quiet beneath the sky, clear as glass. No ripples. No sound but the wind through the reeds.

It was not always like this. The elders said that three hundred years ago, Yilan had been a battlefield. Two warring clans had met here, and the water had run red for seven days. The dead were never pulled out. They sank, and their memories sank with them. Since then, the river had been silent. As if it remembered too much to speak.

Yue stood at the bank, mouth open.

“Wow,” she whispered.

“Do not stand too close, My Lady,” Fiefie said nervously.

“They say the river takes those who are careless,” Fiefie whispered back. “It is why the water never moves.”

Before Yue could answer, the air changed. A cold scent passed through the wind, sharp as frost on metal.

Fue’s eyes narrowed. "Vega."

Vega. One of the Seven Stars of the Immortal Realm, whose light burned blue across the heavens . His duty was to guide the Yilan Water. His flame was ice made manifest, blue as a winter dawn. In the cold months, his breath could seal a river in glass.

Fue did not speak. He gave Mao a single glance. Mao understood.

The moment he felt Vega presence near, Mao stepped forward, smiling pleasantly.

“Young Miss, the water here is troubled today. Let me show you a calmer stretch downstream.” He moved to draw Yue and Fiefie away from the bank.

Vega stepped out from behind the willows. He did not descend from the sky. He walked, boots silent on the grass, moving too fast for a mortal but never leaving the ground.

“Took you long enough, Demon Lord,” he said, voice flat. His blue flame licked at his fingertips without burning.

“I am not here to fight, Lord of Ice,” Fue replied calmly, red-black flame coiling around his wrist, restrained.

Vega’s eyes narrowed.

“You trespass in the Mortal Realm,” he said. “Demons were banished from here after the Great war of the Stadragon stone. Your presence breaks the Almighty Law. Speak. Why are you here?”

Fue did not answer at once. He let the red-black flame rise, then fall.

“I am not here for war.”

“Lies,” Vega said. The blue flame flared, and the air dropped ten degrees. “Every demon who enters the Mortal Realm claims that. Yet the balance shifts when you breathe.”

The two flames met without touching. Where red-black brushed against blue, frost hissed and cracked. The reeds at the bank curled and died.

“Your duty is the Yilan Water,” Fue said. “Mine is not yours.”

“And yet you stand where you should not,” Vega replied. “Leave, or I will enforce the banishment myself.”

The ground between them split with a sharp crack. Neither moved from their spot. Their flames spoke where words failed—blue ice against restrained hellfire, cold calculation against old fury.

“Stop.”

The word cut through the air like a knife.

Tian Lian stood between them, arms crossed, mud on her boots, as if she had not just walked into the middle of a battle between two beings that could level a village. She looked from Fue to Vega and sighed.

“You two are making a mess. Do you know how long it takes to wash mud out of hemp?”

She did not know what they were. She never did at first. She only saw two men fighting and a ruined riverbank.

******"Flashback*******

Earlier that morning, Tian Lian had been on the road from Yangcun Village to Binghe, talking to herself as she walked. The sun was high, but the road cut through a stretch of thin woods, and the shadows made her uneasy.

She remembered her discuss yesterday evening of Buddha’s birthday in Yangcun Village market with Mei and Chen. when Chen leaned close and whispered.

“There’s… something in Binghe.” Chen Hao lowered his voice even more. “People are calling it a demon. It comes at night, drinks from wells, and… takes heads and drinks human blood.” He made a quick cutting motion at his neck. “Three men found dead last week. No heads. The village head’s locked everyone inside after dark. No lanterns, no fires, nothing.”

Tian Lian had laughed then, but walking alone now, with the wind stirring the grass and no one else on the road, the memory came back sharp and cold. Her steps slowed.

“Maybe I should not have taken this path,” she muttered.

A streak of colored flame drifted past her, moving against the wind. Her eyes lit up despite herself.

“Ooooh, what’s that?”

Curiosity overcame fear, and she followed it forward.

*******End Flashback*******

Now she stood between them, oblivious, and the area around her told the story. The riverbank was usually quiet, but now the reeds were blackened, the grass frozen in patches, the air smelling of burnt earth and winter frost. She glanced at the damage and paled.

“The demon of Binghe…” she whispered, the word catching in her throat. She turned to Fue and then Vega.

“You heard it too, right? My friend Chen told me in Yangcun Village market, on Buddha’s birthday evening. He said it comes out of the mist and takes people Head. Leaves nothing but bones.” Her voice rose, high and fast, the fear spilling out now that she had someone to say it to.

Vega studied her for a long moment, then smiled faintly.

“Not worth it today,” he said. “We will meet again, Demon Lord.”

He turned and walked into the trees. Not running, not flying. Just walking, step by step, until the trees swallowed him. Too fast for a mortal eye to follow, but still walking. As if he refused to remind the mortals around him what he was.

Tian Lian watched him go, then turned on Fue immediately.

“And you! You’re still here! Why didn’t you leave with him? Are you friends? You fight like friends!”

“Not friends,” Fue said flatly, walking away.

“Then why does he call you Demon Lord? Do you have a title too? Lord of Something? Lord of Being Annoying?”

Fue’s jaw tightened.

She followed, not stopping.

“Do all demons walk like that? Like you’re mad at the ground? Are you a Demon? Did you have fire? Was it ugly? Mine’s not ugly, I think. I don’t have fire. But if I did, it would be pink. Pink fire. Wouldn’t that be terrifying?”

“Stop talking,” Fue said.

“Can’t. If I stop talking, I’ll think about the demon of Binghe. And then I’ll run. And if I run, my shoe will fall off again. So I talk.”

He walked faster. She matched his pace.

“You’re annoying,” he said.

“I know,” she said cheerfully. “But if I weren’t here, you’d still be fighting him. And then the river would be angry. And then I’d have to explain to my grandmother why I’m late. So really, you should thank me.”

Fue did not answer. His jaw worked once, twice. The sound of her voice—nonstop, loud, unreasonable—cut at him more than any blade.

“Hey! Do not ignore me!” Tian Lian called, chasing after him down the path, still talking, still not stopping.