Chapter 2

The wind howled, a mournful dirge through the skeletal remains of the temple. Shen Mingyue, huddled over the unmoving form of Jiang Feng, felt a shiver that had nothing to do with the biting cold. That sound. It wasn’t just the wind.

She looked at Jiang Feng who had just opened his pain-clouded eyes.  He managed a barely perceptible nod, a flicker of something in their depths, and a brief, jumbled mental image flashed in her mind: a swirling vortex of stars, ink-black robes, a desperate fight, and a face contorted in agony—Jiang Feng’s face. Then, a voice, ancient and strained, echoing in her thoughts: “…void rift… tracking… danger…”

Mingyue gasped. His escape wasn’t clean. The void rift had left a signature, a trail for his pursuers. And he wasn’t just injured; he was a walking beacon for trouble.

A low growl, too deep for any beast she knew, rumbled from the shattered archway. Twin pinpricks of emerald light materialized in the gloom.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Mingyue muttered, her voice tight. “Did you seriously escape through a void rift just to lead… whatever that is… to our doorstep? Some ‘immortal lord’ you are.”

Her words were met with stony silence, not because Jiang Feng was ignoring her, but because he had lapsed back into unconscious. Or perhaps was just wisely choosing not to dignify her sarcasm with a response. Either way, she was on her own.

The emerald eyes narrowed, and a hulking shadow detached itself from the ruins, moving with predatory grace. Its fur bristled with malevolent energy, and a faint, acrid smell of ozone and decay wafted from it. It was clearly no ordinary animal, likely a creature drawn by the residual spatial fluctuations from Jiang Feng’s chaotic arrival. A magical mutated canine.

Mingyue’s heart hammered a frantic rhythm against her ribs. Her instincts screamed at her to run, but the logical part of her brain, the one trained to assess and react, was already working overtime. She couldn’t leave Jiang Feng. Not when he was still leaking dark, corrosive enegy that would likely attract even more trouble. And she certainly couldn’t fight something that looked like it had swallowed a small tractor.

“Alright, playtime’s over, Fido,” she whispered, her gaze darting around the ruined space. Her eyes landed on a y-shaped branch in the path. An idea, half-formed and utterly insane, sparked.

She fumbled at her waist, her fingers closing around the now-familiar warmth of the mysterious pouch. “Access: Emergency Field Trauma Kit – Class IV,” she muttered under her breath, pulling out a compact diagnostic pad. It wasn’t exactly a weapon, but it had a surprisingly bright LED display.

As the creature coiled, ready to spring, Mingyue grabbed the branch and flung herself behind a fallen column, dragging Jiang Feng’s arm with surprising strength. The beast lunged, its claws tearing through the air where they’d been moments before.

“Okay, here goes nothing!” she yelled, activating the pad’s brightest setting and lobbing it with surprising accuracy towards a jagged piece of mirrored stone. The sudden, intense flash of light, magnified by the reflective surface, disoriented the creature. It snarled, shaking its massive head.

With desperate ingenuity, she swiftly rigged a makeshift slingshot using the tourniquet band. Her ammunition: a pre-filled sedative auto-injector, its plastic casing cracked just enough to expose the needle. “Never thought I’d be weaponizing a tranquilizer dart, but here we are,” she muttered.

The creature, recovering from the flash, let out another guttural growl, its eyes now fixed on her hiding spot. It took a hesitant step forward. Mingyue steadied her trembling hands, pulled back the makeshift slingshot, and aimed for the beast’s flank. Please work, please work.

The sedative injector flew, striking the creature with a soft thwack. A low yelp of surprise, then a confused whine. The beast staggered, its powerful legs wobbling. Its emerald eyes glazed over, and with a final, bewildered howl, it crumpled to the ground, twitching once before its heavy breathing evened out into a loud, rumbling snore.

Mingyue sagged against the cold stone, a hysterical giggle bubbling up her throat. “Who needs magic when you have modern pharmaceuticals?” she gasped, her body trembling with exhaustion and relief. “That was… surprisingly effective.”

She cautiously crept over to the enormous, slumbering beast. It was truly massive. “Right,” she said, looking at Jiang Feng. “Your turn for an explanation, once you’re not actively dying.” She carefully probed his wound again. The medgel was working surprisingly effectively, the black edges receding, but he was still dangerously weak.

She needed to get them both to safety. And food. Oh, god, food. Her stomach rumbled loudly, a rude interruption to the tense silence.

While searching for anything that might offer shelter or sustenance beyond the immediate ruins, her fingers brushed against something cold and smooth wedged between two fallen stones. A jade slip. It hummed faintly, almost vibrating with a gentle energy. As she touched it, a rush of foreign sensations and concepts flooded her mind – not words, but understanding. Diagrams of invisible lines within the body, flowing energy, and points that, when stimulated, could influence that flow. Basic principles of something called ‘qi’ and ‘meridians.’ And then, specific patterns for “lightness skills and acupuncture techniques”. It was like suddenly being given a highly specialized medical textbook written in an alien language, but somehow, she could intuitively grasp the concepts.

She continued to search, and her foot nudged something small and smooth beneath a tangle of thorny vines. Curious, she knelt, brushing away the debris.

There, nestled in a small, surprisingly warm depression in the earth, lay an egg.

It wasn’t large, no bigger than her fist, but it pulsed with a faint, internal light, shifting between shades of soft crimson and gold. It was incredibly beautiful, unlike anything she had ever seen. She picked it up, marveling at its delicate warmth.

“Well, hello there,” she murmured, a strange sense of comfort washing over her as she cradled it. It wasn’t food, but it felt… important. A tiny spark of something precious in this desolate, dangerous world. She used a clean, albeit ragged, cloth from her kit to gently wipe it clean before tucking it carefully inside her shirt, against her skin, hoping her meager body heat might help whatever life was held within.

A distant commotion reached her ears. Voices. Footsteps. And a distinct, almost frantic cough. Mingyue instantly became rigid, pulling Jiang Feng closer into the deepest shadow of the crumbling wall. “They might be enemies,” she muttered, “but they don’t sound like experts given how much noise they are making.”

A small procession of cultivators emerged from the tree line, their robes bearing the distinctive emblem of a cloud and mist. She realized, as if unlocking a forgotten memory from the previous occupant of her body, that these were disciples of the Mist Valley Sect, a mid-sized cultivation sect she’d vaguely heard whispers about.

One of them, an older man with a wispy beard and an air of severe dignity, swayed slightly, clutching his chest. His face was pale, and his breathing shallow. “The spiritual aura here… it’s too chaotic,” he wheezed, his voice laced with discomfort. “My qi… it’s restless. This residual spatial energy…”

Mingyue, still hidden, watched him with a physician’s keen eye, now armed with the basic understanding from the jade slip. His symptoms were classic: minor qi deviation, likely exacerbated by the unstable spiritual energy left by the void rift. Her medical instincts flared, momentarily overriding her survival instincts.

“Honestly, walking into a residual spatial tear with a weak spiritual core,” she muttered under her breath. “Amateur hour.”

She exchanged a quick, silent glance with Jiang Feng. She needed to find him a better place to heal him.

Taking a deep breath, Mingyue carefully emerged from the shadows, her tattered clothes and disheveled appearance doing little to inspire confidence. The sect disciples immediately tensed, reaching for their swords.

“Hold!” the elder rasped, his eyes fixed on Mingyue. “There is… an anomaly.” He seemed to sense something, perhaps the lingering spiritual aura from her medical kit, or even the faint warmth of the egg tucked against her.

Mingyue held up her hands, palms open. “I think I can help,” she said, her voice hoarse but clear. “Your elder… he’s suffering from qi deviation. I know how to stabilize him.”

A ripple of skeptical murmurs went through the disciples. “A beggar girl? Stabilize Elder Ling?”

“He needs immediate care, or it will worsen. His meridians are agitated, his spiritual energy is fluctuating. Give him to me.” She pulled out a small, intricately carved jade needle from her pouch – the one from the jade slip.

Hesitantly, the disciples allowed her closer, only allowing it because their healer had gone missing. Mingyue’s fingers flew, pressing key acupoints on Elder Ling’s wrist and neck, guided by the sudden, intuitive knowledge from the jade slip. Then, with a practiced precision that belied her ragged appearance, she inserted the jade needle into a specific point on his chest. It glowed faintly, a pure, stabilizing light.

“There,” she said, stepping back. “His qi should calm now. He needs rest and spiritual supplements, but the immediate crisis is averted.” She refrained from adding, “and for god’s sake, don’t walk into any more interdimensional tears.”

Elder Ling let out a long, shaky breath. The pallor began to recede from his face, and the tremor in his hands lessened. He stared at Mingyue with wide, astonished eyes. “Impossible,” he whispered. “Your technique… it is of the highest subtlety. Unseen by this old one for centuries.” He looked at her tattered clothes, then back at her steady, confident gaze. “Child, what is your name?”

“Shen Mingyue,” she replied, then added, almost as an afterthought, “and this is my… brother.” She gestured vaguely towards Jiang Feng, still hidden in the shadows, hoping they wouldn’t pry too much.

Elder Ling’s gaze lingered on her, a mixture of profound intrigue and disbelief. He took a deep, steadying breath. “Shen Mingyue,” he repeated, a thoughtful hum in his voice. “Your skills are… extraordinary. The Mist Valley Sect conducts its entrance trials tomorrow. If you possess such a unique talent, you should present yourself in the plaza in the morning. I will ensure you are given a fair assessment, and… we can perhaps provide some healing for your brother, under the sect’s care.” He eyed the shadows where Jiang Feng lay with a wary look. “We shall send a retrieval team back for him, once you are registered.”

Mingyue blinked. An entrance exam? It wasn’t the immediate, warm bed she’d hoped for, but it was a concrete path forward. And a chance to get Jiang Feng proper, safe care.

“An entrance exam,” she said, a small, tired smile touching her lips. “Haven’t I had enough schooling in my life? Well, at least there might be decent lodging. And maybe, just maybe, some actual food.”

She gently adjusted the egg, still warm against her skin. The sect members, despite their initial awe, gave her and the shadowed figure of Jiang Feng a wide berth, a mixture of curiosity and apprehension in their eyes. The path forward was uncertain, but for the first time in what felt like lifetimes, Shen Mingyue had a direction. And a very, very heavy companion to worry about.